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COUNTESS ZATERLOO.

Be calm, my son, for I do not upbraid thee.

COUNT ZATERLOO.

Wretch that I am! I was an only son,

And therefore bound by no divided tie
To be to thee thy hold and thy support.
I was a widow's son, and therefore bound
By every generous and manly tie
To be in filial duty most devoted.
O I have vilely done! I feel it now;
But if I live to be a man again,
I'll prove a better son to thee, dear mother.

COUNTESS ZATERLOO.

I know thou wilt, my dearest Zaterloo;

And do not thus upbraid thyself too sharply;
I've been a foolish mother to thy youth,
But thou wilt pardon me.

COUNT ZATERLOO.

Of this no more—How came you by my letter?

If you did intercept it on its way,
Mira is faithful still.

COUNTESS ZATERLOO.

It was from Mira's hand that I received it.

She toss'd it at me with a jeering smile
When I with anxious tears inquired for thee.