Amelia.
A very proper ſubject from the man who has taught me love, and I accept the propoſal. [curtſying.]
Anhalt.
Again you miſconceive and confound me.
Amelia.
Ay, I ſee how it is—You have no inclination to experience with me “the good part of matrimony:” I am not the female with whom you would like to go “hand in hand up hills, and through labyrinths”—with whom you would like to “root up thorns; and with whom you would delight to plant lilies and roſes.” No, you had rather call out, “Oh liberty, dear liberty.”
Anhalt.
Why do you force from me, what it is villainous to own?—I love you more than life—Oh, Amelia! had we lived in thoſe golden times, which the poets picture, no one but you——But as the world is changed, our birth and fortune make our union impoſſible— To preſerve the character, and more the feelings of an honeſt man, I would not marry you without the conſent of your father—And could I, dare I propoſe it to him.
Amelia.
He has commanded me never to conceal or diſguiſe the truth. I will propoſe it to him. The ſubject of the Count will force me to ſpeak plainly, and this will be the moſt proper time, while he can compare the merit of you both.
Anhalt.
I conjure you not to think of expoſing yourſelf and me to his reſentment.
Amelia.
It is my father’s will that I ſhould marry—It is
