AMELIA. Yes; and then he feels another gratitude towards me. What’s that? BARON. Has he told you so? AMELIA. Yes. BARON. That was not right of him. AMELIA. Oh! if you did but know how I surprized him! BARON. Surprized him? AMELIA. He came to me by your command, to examine my heart respecting Count Cassel. I told him that I would never marry the Count. BARON. But him? AMELIA. Yes, him. BARON. Very fine indeed! And what was his answer? AMELIA. He talked of my rank in life; of my aunts and cousins; of my grandfather, and great-grandfather; of his duty to you; and endeavoured to persuade me to think no more of him. BARON. He acted honestly. AMELIA. But not politely. BARON. No matter. AMELIA. Dear father! I shall never be able to love another—Never be happy with any one else. [_Throwing herself on her knees_.] BARON. Rise, I command you. [_As she rises, enter_ ANHALT.] MR. ANHALT. My Lord, forgive me! I have ventured, on the privilege of my office, as a minister of holy charity, to bring the poor soldier, whom your justice has arrested, into the adjoining room; and I presume to entreat you will admit him to your presence, and hear his apology, or his supplication. BARON. Anhalt, you have done wrong. I pity the unhappy boy; but you know I cannot, must not forgive him. MR. ANHALT. I beseech you then, my Lord, to tell him so yourself. From your lips he may receive his doom with resignation. AMELIA. Oh father! See him and take pity on him; his sorrows have made him frantic. BARON. Leave the room, Amelia. [_on her attempting to speak, he raises his voice_.] Instantly.—[_Exit_ Amelia. MR. ANHALT. He asked for a private audience: perhaps he has some confession to make that may relieve his mind, and may be requisite for you to hear. BARON. Well, bring him in, and do you wait in the adjoining room, till our conference is over. I must then, Sir, have a conference with you. MR. ANHALT. I shall obey your commands. [_He goes to door, and re-enters with_ Frederick. Anhalt _then retires at the same door_.] BARON. [_haughtily to_ Frederick]. I know, young man, you plead your mother’s wants in excuse for an act of desperation: but powerful as this plea might be in palliation of a fault, it cannot extenuate a crime like yours. FREDERICK. I have a plea for my conduct even more powerful than a mother’s wants. BARON. What’s that? FREDERICK. My father’s cruelty. BARON. You have a father then? FREDERICK. I have, and a rich one—Nay, one that’s reputed virtuous, and honourable. A great man, possessing estates and patronage in abundance; much esteemed at court, and beloved by his tenants; kind, benevolent, honest, generous— BARON. And with all those great qualities, abandons you? FREDERICK. He does, with all the qualities I mention. BARON. Your father may do right; a dissipated, desperate youth, whom kindness cannot draw from vicious habits, severity may.