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COUNTESS.

Thy scourge and bed of earth! alas, alas!

And meanest thou then to wreak upon thyself
Such cruel punishment? O no, my Garcio!
God doth accept the sorrow of the heart
Before all studied penance. 'T is not well:
Where'er thou art, live thou with worthy men,
And as becomes thy state.

GARCIO.

No; when from hence a banish'd man I go,

I'll leave behind me all my crime did purchase.
Deprived of thee, its first and dearest meed,
Shall I retain its base and paltry earnings
To live with strangers more regarded? No;
Poor as I was when first my luckless steps
This fatal threshold pass'd,—I will depart.

COUNTESS.

And wilt thou then a houseless wand'rer be?

Shall I, in warm robe wrapp'd, by winter fire
List to the pelting blast, and think the while
Of thy unshelter'd head?—
Or eat my bread in peace, and think that Garcio—
Reduce me not to such keen misery!
(Bursting into an agony of tears.)

GARCIO.

And dost thou still feel so much pity for me?

Retain I yet some portion of thy love?