Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/44

COUNT ZATERLOO.

Thou art too warm: accuse me as thou wilt

Of aught but want of love.

MIRA.

O thou deceitful man! I know thee well:

Thou talk'st of love and thou wouldst break my heart.

COUNT ZATERLOO.

Indeed I am to blame, my gentle love;

Yet be not thus: in token of forgiveness
This friendly cup receive, and smile upon me.
(Offering her a cup, which she dashes to the ground.)

MIRA.

Off with thy hateful gifts! nought from thy hands

Will I receive; I scorn thy offering.
Ev'n the rich robe thou hast so often promis'd me:
Ay and so oft forgot, so I must call it,
I would now scorn, since thou dost slight my love.

COUNT ZATERLOO.

Indeed, my Mira, thou shalt have that robe

Before two days be past: I swear to thee.
Then do not look so frowningly, my love;
I know thou hast a soft relenting nature;
Smile my forgiveness.

MIRA.

O thou provoking man! thou know'st full well