The merry music and uproarious shouts of the gods on Olympus penetrate to them even in the stillness of the cave, but through the open door other sounds steal near.  Solemn, long-drawn organ peals are heard, uniting in the melody of a pious choral.  How strangely blended within that narrow space those exultant songs and those organ tones!  The young lovers hear only the notes of the organ, and hand in hand move toward the sound.

A small pleasure boat receives them, flowers and myrtle trees line the banks, and inviting and alluring the organ calls them.  Light glimmers at the end of the passage, and the lovers go toward it.  They enter a large wide room!  Solemn silence reigns here.  At the farther end is a small altar.  On it burn tall wax tapers, and before it, in full canonicals, stands the priest, prayer book in hand.  At his sides are two gentlemen in simple, somber dress.

Farther forward, nearer the center of the hall, is a table hung with green, on which lie several papers and implements of writing, and near it is a notary in his official garb, again attended by several men.  To all this Prince Frederick William gives but one brief glance, then turns his eyes once more upon his beloved, standing at his side, radiant in beauty and enticingly sweet.  The jubilant songs of Olympus yet ring in their ears, the images of the gods yet flame and flaunt before their eyes.

“How beautiful you are, beloved Ludovicka!  My Electoral Princess! come, let us go to the altar!  Oh, your good, kind friends!  How I thank them!  How well they have arranged everything!  Come!  You see, the priest is waiting!”

“Not yet, beloved!  For you see before the priest stands the notary, and my good friends will have us go through all the formalities of legal marriage.  Before we are married we must sign the contract!”

“The contract of love is written in our hearts alone.  What need for the intervention of signatures on paper?  And how can strangers know what we alone can settle with one another?  I swear unswerving love and fidelity to my Electoral Princess, and that requires no written confirmation.  Come to the altar, dearest!”

He endeavors to draw her forward, but Ludovicka flings her arm about his neck and holds him back.  “Beloved,” she whispers, “the contract which we sign concerns not us, but the benevolent, mighty friends, who have lent us their aid, and will help us still further.  Ah! without these noble friends our flight would have been wholly impossible, and we would have been separated for ever!  To-morrow I would have been the bride of the Prince of Hesse, and your father would already have found means to compel your return home.  Ah! beloved, they would have separated us, if our noble friends had not helped us.  They have prepared everything, cared for everything.  As soon as we are married, we shall journey away to our safe asylum, and there, under the protection of friends, be sheltered and secure.  For such love and devotion we must be grateful, must we not?”