Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/115

COUNT ZATERLOO (rising half from his seat in great passion.)

O faithless, faithless woman! she it was,

Who made of me the cursed thing I am!
I've been a fool indeed and well requited.
Base, avaricious and ungrateful——oh!

(Putting his hand on his side as if seized with sudden pain.)

COUNTESS ZATERLOO.

Such agitation suits not with thy state:

What ails thee now?

COUNT ZATERLOO.

The pain, the pain! it has return'd again

With encreased violence.

COUNTESS ZATERLOO.

God send thee ease! why dost thou look so wildly,

And grasp my hand so hard? What is't disturbs thee?

COUNT ZATERLOO.

My time on earth is short.

COUNTESS ZATERLOO.

Nay, say not so: thou may'st recover slill.

O why this seeming agony of mind?
'Tis not the pain that racks thee.