Countess. We three have stood silent long enough: and much there may be on which we will for ever keep silence. But, sweet young creature! can I refuse my protection, or my love, to the preserver of my husband? Can I think it a crime, or even a folly, to have pitied the brave and the unfortunate? to have pressed (but alas! that it ever should have been so here!) a generous heart to a tender one?
Why do you begin to weep?
Zaida. Under your kindness, O lady, lie the sources of these tears.
But why has he left us? He might help me to say many things which I want to say.
Countess. Did he never tell you he was married?
Zaida. He did indeed.
Countess. That he had children?
Zaida. It comforted me a little to hear it.
Countess. Why? prithee why?
Zaida. When I was in grief at the certainty of holding but the second place in his bosom, I thought I could at least go and play with them, and win perhaps their love.