Manfred, stepping back hastily, cried, "Begone! I do not want a
daughter;" and flinging back abruptly, clapped the door against the
terrified Matilda.

She was too well acquainted with her father's impetuosity to
venture a second intrusion. When she had a little recovered the
shock of so bitter a reception, she wiped away her tears to prevent
the additional stab that the knowledge of it would give to
Hippolita, who questioned her in the most anxious terms on the
health of Manfred, and how he bore his loss. Matilda assured her
he was well, and supported his misfortune with manly fortitude.

"But will he not let me see him?" said Hippolita mournfully; "will
he not permit me to blend my tears with his, and shed a mother's
sorrows in the bosom of her Lord? Or do you deceive me, Matilda?
I know how Manfred doted on his son: is not the stroke too heavy
for him? has he not sunk under it? You do not answer me--alas! I
dread the worst!--Raise me, my maidens; I will, I will see my Lord.
Bear me to him instantly: he is dearer to me even than my
children."

Matilda made signs to Isabella to prevent Hippolita's rising; and
both those lovely young women were using their gentle violence to
stop and calm the Princess, when a servant, on the part of Manfred,
arrived and told Isabella that his Lord demanded to speak with her.

"With me!" cried Isabella.

"Go," said Hippolita, relieved by a message from her Lord: