What tongue is capable of describing the reunion of two lovers long separated; it is a fore-taste of that reunion, which we expect to enjoy with the objects of our affection beyond the grave, in another world better and happier. The one saw her belief in the untimely death of her beloved dissolved like a painful dream; the other saw those stains removed, which had sullied her purity on whom his soul doated; both felt, that the turbulent raptures of their early love were less sweet, than this renewal of their long-tried affection! Forgive me, Urania; a cloistered Nun ought not to describe such emotions, though she cannot help feeling them: doubtless, you understand such things better than we do, who have been confined from our earliest years within the walls of a convent, and shut out from the most precious rights of human nature. From this moment began the most fortunate part of our friend’s life. Adelaide found her husband improved by years and corrected by adversity; absence and misfortune had made him still dearer to her; and she now first felt towards him the whole excess of love, of which her affectionate heart was capable. She now had no other wish, than to enjoy her happiness in quiet and retirement. The Lords of Eschenbach had new-built the fortress of Ravenstein, and proffered it to her husband (who had long been united with them in amity) as a fit residence, should it be no longer agreeable for him to remain at the Court of the offended Emperor. Gladly would Adelaide have hastened thither; but Rodolpho had contracted obligations, which at that time prevented him from immediately quitting the Court. He was indebted for life, for freedom, for opulence, to the favour of a princely youth, whom it was only necessary to see in order to admire; and whose situation it was only necessary to know, in order to feel interested for him, even had Rodolpho not been so closely bound to him by the ties of gratitude. This man was the cause, why Adelaide’s husband found it impossible to comply with her request. Need I name to you this noble, this dangerous youth? Alas! who has not heard of the unfortunate John of Swabia; who does not pity and detest in him at once the injured Prince, and the lawless avenger of those injuries?—Wretched youth! what have you gained by that rash and detestable action, to which you were guided by evil counsellors? In what climate do you wander accursed like the first murderer, without being able to fly from your own conscience, and what will be at last the goal to which your painful wanderings lead?