FREDERICK. And my mother—— BARON. She shall live in peace and affluence. Do you think I would leave your mother unprovided, unprotected? No! About a mile from this castle I have an estate called Weldendorf—there she shall live, and call her own whatever it produces. There she shall reign, and be sole mistress of the little paradise. There her past sufferings shall be changed to peace and tranquility. On a summer’s morning, we, my son, will ride to visit her; pass a day, a week with her; and in this social intercourse time will glide pleasantly. FREDERICK. And, pray, my Lord—under what name is my mother to live then? BARON. [_confused_]. How? FREDERICK. In what capacity?—As your domestic—or as—— BARON. That we will settle afterwards. FREDERICK. Will you allow me, Sir, to leave the room a little while, that you may have leisure to consider _now_? BARON. I do not know how to explain myself in respect to your mother more than I have done already. FREDERICK. My fate, whatever it may be, shall never part me from her. This is my firm resolution, upon which I call Heaven to witness! My Lord, it must be Frederick of Wildenhaim, and Agatha of Wildenhaim—or Agatha Friburg, and Frederick Friburg. [_Exit_. BARON. Young man! Frederick!—[_calling after him_.] Hasty indeed! would make conditions with his father. No, no, that must not be. I just now thought how well I had arranged my plans—had relieved my heart of every burden, when, a second time, he throws a mountain upon it. Stop, friend conscience, why do you take his part?—For twenty years thus you have used me, and been my torture. _Enter Mr_. ANHALT. Ah! Anhalt, I am glad you are come. My conscience and myself are at variance. MR. ANHALT. Your conscience is in the right. BARON. You don’t know yet what the quarrel is. MR. ANHALT. Conscience is always right—because it never speaks unless it _is_ so. BARON. Ay, a man of your order can more easily attend to its whispers, than an old warrior. The sound of cannon has made him hard of hearing.—I have found my son again, Mr. Anhalt, a fine, brave young man—I mean to make him my heir—Am I in the right? MR. ANHALT. Perfectly. BARON. And his mother shall live in happiness—My estate, Weldendorf, shall be hers—I’ll give it to her, and she shall make it her residence. Don’t I do right? MR. ANHALT. No. BARON. [_surprized_]. No? And what else should I do? MR. ANHALT. [_forcibly_]. Marry her. BARON. [_starting_]. I marry her! MR. ANHALT. Baron Wildenhaim is a man who will not act inconsistently.—As this is my opinion, I expect your reasons, if you do not. BARON. Would you have me marry a beggar? MR. ANHALT. [_after a pause_]. Is that your only objection? BARON. [_confused_]. I have more—many more. MR. ANHALT. May I beg to know them likewise? BARON. My birth! MR. ANHALT. Go on. BARON. My relations would despise me. MR. ANHALT. Go on. BARON. [_in anger_]. ’Sdeath! are not these reasons enough?—I know no other.