Thekla. That will not be necessary.

Countess. Methinks 'twere well though not to run the hazard.

[[655]]Thekla. His father loves him, Count Octavio [20]
Will interpose no difficulty——

Countess. His!
His father! his! But yours, niece, what of yours?

Thekla. Why I begin to think you fear his father,
So anxiously you hide it from the man!
His father, his, I mean.

Countess (looks at her). Niece, you are false. [25]

Thekla. Are you then wounded? O, be friends with me!

Countess. You hold your game for won already. Do not
Triumph too soon!—

Thekla. Nay now, be friends with me.

Countess. It is not yet so far gone.