[Music:

The heart bow'd down by weight of woe,
To weakest hope will cling,
To tho't and impulse while they flow,
That can no comfort bring, that can, that can no comfort bring,
With those exciting scenes will blend,
O'er pleasure's pathway thrown;
But mem'ry is the only friend,
That grief can call its own,
That grief can call its own,
That grief can call its own.]

The mind will in its worst despair,
Still ponder o'er the past,
On moments of delight that were
Too beautiful to last.
To long departed years extend
Its visions with them flown;
For mem'ry is the only friend
That grief can call its own.

Thus, while the old Count's mind was lingering sadly over the past,
calling up visions of the hopes that had fled with his daughter, she
was being brought to him charged with a crime of which she was
innocent. Soon the Count heard a noise near his apartment, and the
captain of the guard burst in to tell him a robbery had been committed
in the square. No sooner had Arnheim seated himself in his official
place than the people hustled in Arline. Florestein was in the midst
of the mob; going at once to his uncle he cried:

"Your lordship, it is I who have been robbed!"

"Ah! some more of your trouble-making. Why are you forever bringing
the family name into some ill-sounding affair?"

"But, uncle, it is true that I am a victim. There is the very girl who
robbed me!" he cried, pointing to Arline. The Count looked pityingly
at her.

"What--the pretty girl I saw in the square? So young and innocent a
face!"

"However that may be, she has stolen my medallion: we found it upon
her!"

"Can this be true, my child?" the Count asked gently.

"No, your lordship. I have done nothing wrong; but alas! there is no
one to help me."

At that the Count became more distressed. The thought of his own child
returned to him. She might be somewhere as hardly pressed and as
helpless as this young gipsy girl.

"We can prove her guilty," Florestein persisted.

"Tell me your story, my child. I shall try to do you justice," the
Count urged, looking kindly at Arline.

"The Queen of our tribe gave me that medallion. I do not know how she
possessed herself of it, unless----" Arline suddenly remembered the
scene at her wedding, and half guessed the truth. "Your lordship, I
cannot prove it, but I believe she gave me a medall