FREDERICK. Then I must—[_Apart, coming forward_]—Yes, I will go, and beg.—But should I be refused—I will then—I leave my mother in your care, good people—Do all you can for her, I beseech you! I shall soon be with you again. [_Goes off in haste and confusion._] COTTAGER. If he should go to our parson, I am sure he would give him something. [Agatha _having revived by degrees during the scene, rises._] AGATHA. Is that good old man still living, who was minister here some time ago? WIFE. No—It pleased Providence to take that worthy man to heaven two years ago.—We have lost in him both a friend and a father. We shall never get such another. COTTAGER. Wife, wife, our present rector is likewise a very good man. WIFE. Yes! But he is so very young. COTTAGER. Our late parson was once young too. WIFE. [_to_ Agatha.] This young man being tutor in our Baron’s family, he was very much beloved by them all; and so the Baron gave him this living in consequence. COTTAGER. And well he deserved it, for his pious instructions to our young lady: who is, in consequence, good, and friendly to every body. AGATHA. What young lady do you mean? COTTAGER. Our Baron’s daughter. AGATHA. Is she here? WIFE. Dear me! Don’t you know that? I thought every body had known that. It is almost five weeks since the Baron and all his family arrived at the castle. AGATHA. Baron Wildenhaim? WIFE. Yes, Baron Wildenhaim. AGATHA. And his lady? COTTAGER. His lady died in France many miles from hence, and her death, I suppose, was the cause of his coming to this estate—For the Baron has not been here till within these five weeks ever since he was married. We regretted his absence much, and his arrival has caused great joy. WIFE. [_addressing her discourse to_ Agatha.] By all accounts the Baroness was very haughty; and very whimsical. COTTAGER. Wife, wife, never speak ill of the dead. Say what you please against the living, but not a word against the dead. WIFE. And yet, husband, I believe the dead care the least what is said against them—And so, if you please, I’ll tell my story. The late Baroness was, they say, haughty and proud; and they do say, the Baron was not so happy as he might have been; but he, bless him, our good Baron is still the same as when a boy. Soon after Madam had closed her eyes, he left France, and came to Waldenhaim, his native country. COTTAGER. Many times has he joined in our village dances. Afterwards, when he became an officer, he was rather wild, as most young men are. WIFE. Yes, I remember when he fell in love with poor Agatha, Friburg’s daughter: what a piece of work that was—It did not do him much credit. That was a wicked thing. COTTAGER. Have done—no more of this—It is not well to stir up old grievances. WIFE. Why, you said I might speak ill of the living. ’Tis very hard indeed, if one must not speak ill of one’s neighbours, dead, nor alive. COTTAGER. Who knows whether he was the father of Agatha’s child? She never said he was.