Count. Let us see your child!—What child?
Countess. Hannibal.
Count. The Page! (Turns away) This damnable Page again?——Thus then is the Letter!——thus are my Suspicions realized at last!—I am now no longer astonished, Madam, at your emotion for your pretty Godson this morning!—The whole is unravelled!—Come forth, Viper! (In great wrath.)
Countess. (Terrified and trembling) Do not let the Disorder in which you will see him——
Count. The Disorder!—The Disorder!
Countess. We were going to dress him in women’s cloaths for our evening’s diversion—
Count. I’ll stab him!—I’ll!—“And this is your indisposition!—This is why you would keep your Chamber all day! False, unworthy Woman! You shall keep it longer than you expected.”—I’ll make him a terrible example of an injured Husband’s wrath!
Countess. (Falling on her knees between the Count and the door) Hold, my Lord, hold! Or let your anger light on me!—I, alone, am guilty! If there be any guilt—Have pity on his youth! His infancy!
Count. What! Intercede for him!—On your knees!—And to me! There wanted but this!—I’ll rack him!—Rise!—I’ll (Furiously.)
Countess. Promise me to spare his life!