_Soph._ Well my friend, my dear, my beloved friend! I give credit to all you say, and feel unspeakably happy; even your failings lie on the road to rare perfections, and I vow to heaven that I hope those failings will soon vanish. _P. Coun._ You open to me the prospect of paridisic futurity. I shall be active in the promoting the benefit of my country, and rise superior to dirty, narrow, selfish views! recompensed by your approbation, your joys, and sometimes by your tears. Your gentle hand shall reach me the petitions of the wretched, the widow, and the orphan,--and my abilities shall be called forth in their behalf. O Sophia! our wedding day shall long be remembered by the cottagers; every face shall beam with smiles. _Soph._ May it be so! may we, hand in hand, conduct our vows pure to the altar, that we may become securities to each other for our future happiness. In virtue of your solemn promise, and as your bride, I lay down two conditions previous to our union; if you assent, I will be your wife, not otherwise. _P. Coun._ Speak, that I may have an opportunity to thank you; to promise and perform. _Soph._ The first is, that my father, convinced by you, shall instantly? resign the legacy into the hands that ought to receive it.--O Clarenbach! here the daughter must remain silent, and your conviction must finish what would rend my heart! (Privy Counsellor claps his hand together.--Sophia continues after a pause.) The second condition is, that, as I feel I demand much, though convinced I could demand no less,--you shall shorten that state of uncertainty, and by three o'clock this afternoon bring me an answer on that subject. You are not to bring it here; but to the place which this paper (taking out of her pocket a sealed paper) points out. You must not open it till five minutes before three. Pledge me your hand. _P. Coun._ (pressing her hand.) My word of honour! _Soph._ (after a pause, during which she has been gazing on him with tenderness, utters in a steady tone,) Adieu, (going,) my friend! _P. Coun._ (without parting with her hand.) O Sophia, Sophia! what have you demanded! _Soph._ (having gently disengaged her hand.) The Chief Judge of my country cannot wish to give me the hand which signed the deed that robs orphans of their right! And, if he thinks he has performed his duty as a judge, let him blush as a man, if he means to conduct me and the spoil at one and the same time to his house. If the man, whom I and the people honour, cannot feel so, the sentiment of my own worth will teach me how to forget him. [Exit.