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 said Manfred mournfully, and striking his forehead—Theodore, or a phantom, he has unhinged the soul of Manfred—but how comes he here? and how comes he in armour? I believe he went in search of Isabella: Said Hippolita. Of Isabella! said Manfred, relapsing into rage—yes, yes, that is not doubtful—but how did he escape from durance in which I left him? was it Isabella, or this hypocritical old Friar, that procured his enlargement?—and would a parent be criminal, my Lord, said Theodore, if he meditated the deliverance of his child? Jerome amazed to hear himself in a manner accused by his son, and without foundation, knew not what to think. He could not comprehend, how Theodore had escaped, how he came to be armed, and to encounter Frederic. Still he would not venture to ask any questions that might tend to inflame Manfred's wrath against his son. Jeromes silence convinced Manfred that he had contrived Theodores release—and is it thus, thou ungrateful old man, said the Prince