this augury; nor were we much grieved at the loss; feeling assured that
the next two acts would be occupied in fulfilling it. The funny bravoes
present themselves in the next scene, and exit to stab one of two
brothers, who goes off evidently for that purpose, judiciously coming back
to die in the arms of _Count Rudolph_, for whom he has been mistaken.
Under such circumstances it is but fair that the prince should repay the
obligation he owes his friend for being killed in his stead, by promising
protection to the widow and child. The oath he takes would be doubly
binding (for he promises to become a brother to the wife, and not content
with thus making himself the child's uncle, swears to be his father too),
if the husband did not die before he has had time to utter his wife's
name. All these affairs having been settled, the prologue--which used to
be called the first act--ends.

Fifteen years are supposed to elapse before the curtain is again rolled
up; and that this allusion may be rendered the more perfect, the audience
is kept waiting about three times fifteen minutes, to amuse one another
during the _entr'acte_. We next learn that _Rudolph_ is seated upon his
ducal throne, fortunate in the possession of a paragon-wife, and a steward
of the household not to be equalled--no other than _Ottocar_--that
particular friend, who, in the prologue, tried to get a finis put to his
mortal career. The jocose ruffians here enliven the scene--one by being
cast into a dungeon for asking _Ottocar_ (evidently the Colburn of his
day), an exorbitant price for the copyright of a certain manuscript; the
other, by calling the courtier a man of genius, and being taken into his
service, as no doubt, "first robber." To support this character, a change
of apparel is necessary: and no wonder, for _Wolfstein_ has on precisely
the same clothes he wore fifteen years before.

His first job is to steal a casket; but is declined, probably, because