_Ulrica._ There! You think I'm to exterminate the whole German nobility, whilst I think there are even doubts about the young baron Ravensburg. Again, from my window this morning, again I saw him in close conversation with the sweet interesting Agnes--and if he love an humble orphan, and I love the humble Christopher--Now, do, aunt, do let me tell him, and every body, you're become a fine lady: if I don't, they'll never find it out, aunt. _Countess._ Talks of your cousin, Christopher! whom I hav'n't seen for years, and never mean to see again! Peace, I insist! And for Ravensburg--your betroth'd's--loving Agnes, the Baron's dread of that marriage will hasten yours; or if it don't, and this string snaps, in young count Roland we've perhaps a better. But see--our host--hush! for your life not one word of Franconia. _Baron_ (_speaks without._) Now, prepare yourselves to receive our illustrious visiter with the honour due to his rank. _Enters._ Why countess, I've been looking for you every where. What do you think? The prince Palatine means to copy your example; like you, he means to be a visiter at my chateau, and be present at the celebration of my son's nuptials. His train has already pass'd the aqueduct. (_A strain of music._) Hark! he approaches. (_Calls on the servants._) Come along all of you, and make your best bows and curtsies. _The procession enters._ (_After procession._) Now, Ulrica, as I am not one of your silver-toned orators, do you give to the warriors from the holy land a most harmonious greeting. RECITATIVE--_Ulrica._ With well-earn'd laurels in the Christian cause, Receive, great chief, your native land's applause. AIR. Fam'd crusaders! just as brave, Form'd a nation's right to save! Now repose on tranquil plains, Listen to our dulcet strains. Peace inviting, Joy exciting, 'Till the foe again assail, Then the glorious contest hail. _Prince._ Delightful! exquisite! (_To Ravensburg who looks dejected._) Nay, Ravensburg, the die is cast, the solemn oath is sworn, and should your altered looks create the least suspicion of what's past, beware! beware! for 'tis a secret that was ne'er divulged--not e'en your chosen partner must suspect that you're invested with a free knight's rank. _Rav._ 'Tis sworn--'tis secret. _Baron_ (_advancing with all respect towards the prince_). My liege, this honour to a poor old simple baron---- _Prince._ Sir, you've a title that surpasses pedigree. You are the father of the gallant Ravensburg; and since he comes to claim the soldier's brightest, best reward, fair woman's love, I trust to find you have selected one who richly merits such an envied prize.