FREDERICK. [_all agitation_]. My _father_! Eternal judge! tho do’st slumber! The man, against whom I drew my sword this day was my father! One moment longer, and provoked, I might have been the murderer of my father! my hair stands on end! my eyes are clouded! I cannot see any thing before me. [_Sinks down on chair_]. If Providence had ordained that I should give the fatal blow, who, would have been most in fault?—I dare not pronounce—[_after a pause_] That benevolent young female who left me just now, is, then, my sister—and I suppose that fop, who accompanied my father—— _Enter_ MR. ANHALT. Welcome, Sir! By your dress you are of the church, and consequently a messenger of comfort. You are most welcome, Sir. MR. ANHALT. I wish to bring comfort and avoid upbraidings: for your own conscience will reproach you more than the voice of a preacher. From the sensibility of your countenance, together with a language, and address superior to the vulgar, it appears, young man, you have had an education, which should have preserved you from a state like this. FREDERICK. My education I owe to my mother. Filial love, in return, has plunged me into the state you see. A civil magistrate will condemn according to the law—A priest, in judgment, is not to consider the act itself, but the impulse which led to the act. MR. ANHALT. I shall judge with all the lenity my religion dictates: and you are the prisoner of a nobleman, who compassionates you for the affection which you bear towards your mother; for he has sent to the village where you directed him, and has found the account you gave relating to her true.—With this impression in your favour, it is my advice, that you endeavour to see and supplicate the Baron for your release from prison, and all the peril of his justice. FREDERICK. [_starting_]. I—I see the Baron! I!—I supplicate for my deliverance.—Will you favour me with his name?—Is it not Baron—— MR. ANHALT. Baron Wildenhaim. FREDERICK. Baron Wildenhaim! He lived formerly in Alsace. MR. ANHALT. The same.—About a year after the death of his wife, he left Alsace; and arrived here a few weeks ago to take possession of his paternal estate. FREDERICK. So! his wife is dead;—and that generous young lady who came to my prison just now is his daughter? MR. ANHALT. Miss Wildenhaim, his daughter. FREDERICK. And that young gentleman, I saw with him this morning, is his son? MR. ANHALT. He has no son. FREDERICK. [_hastily_]. Oh, yes, he has—[_recollecting himself_]—I mean him that was out shooting to-day. MR. ANHALT. He is not his son. FREDERICK. [_to himself_]. Thank Heaven! MR. ANHALT. He is only a visitor. FREDERICK. I thank you for this information; and if you will undertake to procure me a private interview with Baron Wildenhaim——