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94

Be calm, my son, for I do not upbraid thee.

Wretch that I am! I was an only son, And therefore bound by no divided tie To be to thee thy hold and thy support. I was a widow's son, and therefore bound By every generous and manly tie To be in filial duty most devoted. O I have vilely done! I feel it now; But if I live to be a man again, I'll prove a better son to thee, dear mother.

I know thou wilt, my dearest Zaterloo; And do not thus upbraid thyself too sharply; I've been a foolish mother to thy youth, But thou wilt pardon me.

Of this no more—How came you by my letter? If you did intercept it on its way, Mira is faithful still.

It was from Mira's hand that I received it. She toss'd it at me with a jeering smile When I with anxious tears inquired for thee.