AMELIA. My brother's love will be ample recompense.

BARON. I will reward you better. Mr. Anhalt, the battle I have just fought, I owe to myself: the victory I gained, I owe to you. A man of your principles, at once a teacher and an example of virtue, exalts his rank in life to a level with the n.o.blest family--and I shall be proud to receive you as my son.

ANHALT [falling on his knees, and taking the Baron's hand]. My Lord, you overwhelm me with confusion, as well as with joy.

BARON. My obligations to you are infinite--Amelia shall pay the debt.

[Gives her to him.]

AMELIA. Oh, my dear father! [embracing the Baron] what blessings have you bestowed on me in one day. [to Anhalt.] I will be your scholar still, and use more diligence than ever to please my _master_.

ANHALT. His present happiness admits of no addition.

BARON. Nor does mine--And yet there is another task to perform that will require more fort.i.tude, more courage, than this has done! A trial that!--[bursts into tears]--I cannot prevent them--Let me--let me--A few minutes will bring me to myself--Where is Agatha?

ANHALT. I will go, and fetch her. [Exit Anhalt at an upper entrance.]

BARON. Stop! Let me first recover a little. [Walks up and down, sighing bitterly--looks at the door through which Anhalt left the room.] That door she will come from--That was once the dressing-room of my mother--From that door I have seen her come many times--have been delighted with her lovely smiles--How shall I now behold her altered looks! Frederick must be my mediator.--Where is he? Where is my son?--Now I am ready--my heart is prepared to receive her--Haste!

haste! Bring her in.

[He looks stedfastly at the door--Anhalt leads on Agatha--The Baron runs and clasps her in his arms--Supported by him, she sinks on a chair which Amelia places in the middle of the stage--The Baron kneels by her side, holding her hand.]

BARON. Agatha, Agatha, do you know this voice?

AGATHA. Wildenhaim.

BARON. Can you forgive me?

AGATHA. I forgive you. [embracing him].

FREDERICK [as he enters]. I hear the voice of my mother!--Ha! mother!

father!

[Frederick throws himself on his knees by the other side of his mother--She clasps him in her arms.--Amelia is placed on the side of her father attentively viewing Agatha--Anhalt stands on the side of Frederick with his hands gratefully raised to Heaven.]----The curtain slowly drops.

END.

========== EPILOGUE.

WRITTEN BY THOMAS PALMER, ESQ.

OF THE TEMPLE.

SPOKEN BY MR. MUNDEN.

OUR Drama now ended, I'll take up your time Just a moment or two in defence of my _rhime_ * "Tho' I hope that among you are _some_ who _admir'd_ "What I've hitherto said, dare I hope none are tir'd?

"But whether ye have, or have not heard enough "Or whether nice critics will think it all stuff; "To myself _rhime_ has ever appear'd, I must own, "In its nature a sort of _philosopher's stone_; "And if Chymists wou'd use it, they'd not make a pother, "And puzzle their brains to find out any other."

Indeed 'tis most strange and surprising to me That all folks in _rhiming_ their int'rest can't see; For I'm sure if it's use were quite common with men, The world would roll on just as pleasant again.

"'Tis said, that while ORPHEUS was striking his lyre, "Trees and brutes danc'd along to the sound of the wire; "That AMPHION to walls soon converted the glebes, "And they rose, as he sung, to a city call'd Thebes; "I suppose _they_ were _Butlers_ (like me) of that time, "And the tale shows our sires knew the wonders of _rhime_."

From time immemorial, your lovers, we find, When their mistresses' hearts have been proud and unkind, Have resorted to _rhime_; and indeed it appears That a _rhime_ would do more than a bucket of tears.

Of love, from experience, I speak-- odds my life!

I shall never forget how I courted my wife: She had offers in plenty; but always stood neuter 'Till I, with my pen, started forth as a suitor; Yet made I no mean present of _ribband_ or _bonnet_, _My_ present was caught from the stars--'twas a _sonnet_.

"And now you know this, sure 'tis needless to say, "That prose was neglected, and _rhime_ won the day-- "But its potent effects you as well may discover "In the _husband_ and _wife_, as in _mistress_ and _lover_; "There are some of ye here, who, like me, I conjecture.

"Have been lull'd into sleep by a good _curtain lecture_.

"But that's a mere trifle; you'll ne'er come to blows, "If you'll only avoid that dull enemy, _prose_.

"Adopt, then, my plan, and the very next time, "That in words you fall out, let them fall into _rhime_; "Thus your sharpest disputes will conclude very soon, "And from jangling to jingling you'll chime into _tune_.

"If my wife were to call me a _drunken old sot_, "I shou'd merely just ask her, what Butler is not?

"And bid her take care that she don't go to pot.

"So our squabbles continue a very short season, "If she yields to my _rhime_--I allow she has reason."

Independent of this I conceive _rhime_ has weight In the higher employments of church and of state, And would in my mind such advantages draw, 'Tis a pity that _rhime_ is not sanctioned by law; "For 'twould _really_ be serving us all, to impose "A capital fine on a man who spoke prose."

Mark the pleader who clacks, in his client's behalf, His technical stuff for three hours and a half; Or the fellow who tells you a long stupid story And over and over the same lays before ye; Or the member who raves till the whole house are dosing.

What d'ye say of such men? Why you say they are prosing.

So, of course, then, if _prose_ is so tedious a _crime_, It of consequence follows, there's _virtue_ in _rhime_.

The best piece of prose that I've heard a long while, Is what gallant Nelson has sent from THE NILE.

And had he but told us the story in _rhime_, What a thing 'twou'd be; but, perhaps, he'd no time.

So, I'll do it myself--Oh! 'tis glorious news!

Nine _sail_ of the line! Just a ship for each Muse.

As I live, there's an end of the French and their navy-- Sir John Warren has sent the Brest fleet to Old Davy.

'Tis in the Gazette, and that, every one knows, Is sure to be truth, tho' 'tis written in prose.