Enter the BARON followed slowly
by the COUNT. The BARON stops.

BARON. Quick, quick, Count! Aye, aye, that was a blunder indeed.
Don't you see the dogs? There they run--they have lost the scent.
[Exit Baron looking after the dogs.

COUNT. So much the better, Colonel, for I must take a little breath.
[He leans on his gun--Frederick goes up to him with great modesty.]

FREDERICK. Gentleman, I beg you will bestow from your superfluous
wants something to relieve the pain, and nourish the weak frame, of an
expiring woman.

The BARON re-enters.

COUNT. What police is here! that a nobleman's amusements should be
interrupted by the attack of vagrants.

FREDERICK [to the Baron]. Have pity, noble Sir, and relieve the
distress of an unfortunate son, who supplicates for his dying mother.

BARON [taking out his purse]. I think, young soldier, it would be
better if you were with your regiment on duty, instead of begging.

FREDERICK. I would with all my heart: but at this present moment my
sorrows are too great.--[Baron gives something.] I entreat your
pardon. What you have been so good as to give me is not enough.

BARON [surprised]. Not enough!