CEC. I had long been looking out for a congenial spirit!—my heart was withered—but the beams of yours have rekindled it. MAT. A sudden thought strikes me—Let us swear an eternal friendship. CEC. Let us agree to live together! MAT. Willingly. [_With rapidity and earnestness._ CEC. Let us embrace. [_They embrace._ MAT. Yes; I too have loved!—you, too, like me, have been forsaken. [_Doubtingly, and as if with a desire to be informed._ CEC. Too true! BOTH. Ah these men! these men! LANDLADY _enters, and places a leg of mutton on the table, with sour krout and prune sauce; then a small dish of black puddings_—CECILIA _and_ MATILDA _appear to take no notice of her._ MAT. Oh, Casimere! CEC. [_Aside._] Casimere! that name!—Oh, my heart, how it is distracted with anxiety. MAT. Heavens! Madam, you turn pale. CEC. Nothing—a slight megrim—with your leave, I will retire— MAT. I will attend you. [_Exeunt_ MATILDA _and_ CECILIA; _Manent_ LANDLADY _and_ WAITER, _with the dinner on the table._ LAND. Have you carried the dinner to the prisoner in the vaults of the abbey? WAITER. Yes—Pease soup, as usual—with the scrag end of a neck of mutton. The emissary of the Count was here again this morning, and offered me a large sum of money if I would consent to poison him. LAND. Which you refused? [_With hesitation and anxiety._ WAITER. Can you doubt it? [_With indignation._ LAND. [_Recovering herself, and drawing up with an expression of dignity._] The conscience of a poor man is as valuable to him as that of a prince.... WAITER. It ought to be still more so, in proportion as it is generally more pure. LAND. Thou say’st truly, Job. WAITER. [_With enthusiasm._] He who can spurn at wealth when proffered as the price of crime, is greater than a prince. _Post-horn blows.—Enter_ CASIMERE _(in a travelling dress, a light blue great coat with large metal buttons, his hair in a long queue, but twisted at the end; a large Kevenhuller hat; a cane in his hand)._ CAS. Here, Waiter, pull off my boots, and bring me a pair of slippers. [_Exit Waiter._] And hark’ye, my lad, a basin of water [_rubbing his hands_] and a bit of soap. I have not washed since I began my journey. WAITER. [_Answering from behind the door._] Yes, Sir. CAS. Well, Landlady, what company are we to have? LAND. Only two gentlewomen, Sir.—They are just stept into the next room—they will be back again in a minute. CAS. Where do they come from? [_All this while the_ WAITER _re-enters with the basin and water;_ CASIMERE _pulls off his boots, takes a napkin from the table, and washes his face and hands._ LAND. There is one of them, I think, comes from Nuremburgh. CAS. [_Aside._] From Nuremburgh! [_with eagerness_] her name! LAND. Matilda.