Those who freedom inherit, Bow not to Tyranny's throne; Then, friends, in a kind spirit, Judge of my love by your own. Home, home, home, home!-- The land of the heart is our home! (They all waltz with great spirit until the scene closes.) Scene II. A Street in Berlin. Enter FREDERICK in a cloak--KARL following. KING. Those who have the command of motives, and know their power, have also the command of all that the arts, or what is called a genius for the arts, can produce. The human mind and human ingenuity are much the same in Italy, England, and Prussia. Then why should not we have a Prussian as well as a Wedgewood or a Barbarini vase? We shall see. I do not understand mon metier de roi, if I can not call forth talents where I know them to exist. (To KARL.) And so the count denounced me for a tyrant, did he, Karl? KARL. He did, Your Majesty. KING. He's a mere stripling; and I permit boys and fools to speak of me as they list. But I am no tyrant, Karl! He might have spared me that. (Musingly.) Tyrant!-- KARL (aside.) It rankles deeply. KING (recovering from his meditation.) Youth and inexperience--to say nothing of love--pshaw!--which is the root of all folly--shall be his apology this time: but let him beware how he offends again-- KARL (aside.) It moves him as I intended. KING. No, I am no tyrant. I should not be branded with such a title! KARL (startled.) Branded, Your Majesty? KING. What has happened, Karl? You are as pale as ashes! What mystery is here? I am to be trusted. KARL. Your Majesty was ever kind; and if I might-- KING. Might! You may. Speak freely to your sovereign--your friend--and tell me what it is that weighs upon your mind. SONG--KARL Dared these lips my sad story impart, What relief it would give to my heart! Though the scenes of past years as they rise, Bring the dews of remorse to my eyes, Yet, oh hear me, and ever conceal What in agony now I reveal!-- KING. Speak freely, Karl-- KARL. And behold, while I throw off the mask! Ah, no, no, no, no, no-- I shrink in despair from the task! In the page of my life there appears A sad passage that's written in tears! Could but that be erased, I would give All the remnant of days I may live: yet the cause of the cloud on my brow I have never disclosed until now-- KING. Say on, Karl-- KARL. Here behold!--It is branded in flame! Ah, no, no, no, no, no-- I shrink in despair from my shame! [KARL rushes out. KING. There's a mystery about that fellow that I can not understand.--Whom have we here? Oh, the English traveller who is in such a good humor with my manufactory, and who has such strange notions respecting me. Good--good! [Draws his cloak about him and retires. (Enter WEDGEWOOD.)