presented me this living, and I left France to take possession of it,
his last words before we parted, were--"The moment you arrive at
Wildenhaim, make all enquiries to find out my poor Agatha." Every
letter from him contained "Still, still, no tidings of my Agatha." And
fate ordained it should be so, till this fortunate day.

AGATHA. What you have said has made my heart overflow--where will this
end?

ANHALT. I know not yet the Baron's intentions: but your sufferings
demand immediate remedy: and one way only is left--Come with me to the
castle. Do not start--you shall be concealed in my apartments till you
are called for.

AGATHA. I go to the Baron's?--No.

ANHALT. Go for the sake of your son--reflect, that his fortunes may
depend upon your presence.

AGATHA. And he is the only branch on which my hope still blossoms:
the rest are withered.--I will forget my wrongs as a woman, if the
Baron will atone to the mother--he shall have the woman's pardon, if he
will merit the mother's thanks--[after a struggle]--I _will_ go to the
castle--for the sake of my Frederick, go even to his father. But where
are my good host and hostess, that I may take leave, and thank them for
their kindness?

ANHALT [taking up the purse which Agatha had thrown down]. Here, good
friend! Good woman!