ii ill THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD ENDOWMENT FUND « ^As ^LZ ^^ :^ u r? ^ fcV o i ^ 1 t THE ROBBERS A TRAGEDY. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF FREDERICK SCHILLER, THE THIRD EDITION, CORRltCTED AND IMPROVED, LONDON: Printed for G. G. and J. ROBINSON, Paternoster-Row. M.DCCXCVIT. ADVERTISEMENT. 1 HE Author of this Tragedy, Mr Schil- ler, was educated in the Military School, founded by the Duke of Wirtemberg. At the age of twenty-three, he wrote this piece, which procured him the highefl reputation over all Germany ; but the rigour of that inftitution, to whofe difcipline he was therr fubjected, being adverfe to fuch purfuits, he was prohibited the ufe of his pen, under pain of imprifonment. Indignant at this unworthy reftraint, he left his native coun- try, and now refides at Manheim, where he has the title of Aulic Counfellor of the Pa- latinate of Bavaria. Befides this Tragedy, he is the Author of three others, The Con- /piracy of Fiefco, Cabal and Love^ and Don Carlos. Befides thefe dramatic pieces, Mr Schiller is the author of a Novel called the Ghojl-Seer^ written with the view of expo- a fing 953331 vi ADVERTISEMENT. ling to contempt and deteftation the artifi- ces of thofe impoftors in Germany, who diftinguifhed themfelves, and their difci- ples, or dupes, by the epithet of The lllii- minated. This fmall work originally ap- peared in a periodical paper entitled T/^jfo; and it has been lately tranflated into Eng- lifh. The Plays above mentioned were printed at Manheim, by C. F. Schwan and G. C. Goetz, 17S6* PRE« PREFACE, BY THE T RA N S LJ T R. (Jf this moft extraordinary produdion, The Tragedy of the Robbers, it is probable that d'fFerent opinions may be formed by the Critics, according to the various ftand- ards by which they are in ufe to examine and to rate the merit of dramatic compoli- tions. To thofe who have formed their tafte on Ariftotelian rules, derived from the meagre drama of the Greeks, or on the e- qually regular, though more varied, compo- fitions of the French ftage, accommodated to the fame rules, this Tragedy, as tranf- ^reffing againft the two chief unities of a 2 lime Vill P R E F A C E. Time and Place, will be judged a very faul- ty compofition. But even to fuch critics, if they are endowed with any real percep- tion of the fubiimeand beautiful, this com- pofition will be acknowledged, in fpite of its irregularity as a whole, to abound with paiTages of the mofl fuperior excellence, and to exhibit fituations the mofl power- fully interefting that can be figured by th^ imaginatioUo On the other hand, to thofe who are dif-^ pofed to confider a ftrid: adherence to the unities, as a faditious criterion of dramatic merit, as originating from no bafis in na- ture or in good fenfe, and as impofing a li« mitation on the fphere of the drama, by excluding from it the mofl interefling ac- tions or events, which are incapable of be- ing confined within thofe rules, this per- formance v/ill be found to pofTefs a degree of merit that will intitle it to rank in the very firfl 'clafs of dramatic compofitions. This Tragedy touches equally thofe great mafler-fprings of Terror and of Pity. It exhibits a conflid of the pafGons,fo ilrong, fo PREFACE. ix ib varied, and fo afFeding, that the mmd is never allowed to repofe itfelf, but is hur- ried on through alternate emotions of com- panion and abhorrence, of anxiety and ter- ror, of admiration and regret, to the cata- ftrophe. The__laiKmage too is bold and ener getic, h ighly impaflio ned, and perfect- ly adapted to the expreilion of that fubli- mit y of fentiment which it is intendedjto^ convey. A diftinguifliing feature of this piece, is a certain wildnefs of fancy, which difplays itfelf not only in the dehneationof the per- fons of the dram^a, but in the painting of thofe fcenes in which the a6lion is laid. This flriking circumftance of merit in the Tragedy of the Robbers was obferved and felt by a critic of genuine tafte, who, in an excellent account of the German Theatre, in which he has particularly analyzed this Tragedy, thus exprefTes himfelf: *'The in- ** trinfic force of this dramatic charader, ** (the hero of the piece) is heightened by *' the lingular circumftance in which it is " placed. Captain of a band of inexorable a 3 *' and X PREFACE. '* and fanguinary bmditti, whof^ furious *' valour he wields to the mod defperate *' purpofcs ; hving with thofe aflociates a- " midfl woods and defarts, terrible and fa- ** vage as the, wolves they have difplaced ; '' this prefents to the fancy a kind of pre- ** ternatural perfonage, wrapped ia all the *' gloomy grandeur of vifionary beings *»" But the circumftance which of all others- tends molt powerfully to increafe the in- tereft of this Tragedy, v.'^h le it impreffes on the delineation of its fcenes a ftrong ftamp of originality, is the principle of Fatalilm, which pervades the whole piece, and influ- ences the condad of the chief agents in the drama. The (entiment of moral dgen- cy is fo rooted in the mind of man, that no fceptical fophiftry, even of the moft a- cute genius, is capable of eradicating it: And it is a Angular phenomenon, that the oppofing principle of Fatalilm, while it ur- ges * Account of the German Theatre, by Henry Mac- kenzie, Efq. Tranfadions of the Royal Society of E. 4inburgh, vol. 2. PREFACE. XI ges on to the perpetration of the mofl fla- gitious ads, has in reality no effed in weak- ening the moral feeling, or in dirninifliing that remorfe which is attendant on the commiffion of crimes. For this reafon, the compallionate intereft which the mind feels in the emotions or fufferings of the guilty perfon, is not diminiihed by the obferva- tion, that he ads under an impreffion of inevitable deftiny. On the contrary, there is fomething in our nature which leads us the more to compaffio.iate the inftrument of thofe crimes, that we fee him confider himleif as bound to guilt by fetters, which he has the coni3:ant wifh, but not the flrength to break. The hero of this piece, endowed by nature with the mofl generous feelings, animated by the higheft fen^fe of honour, and fufceptible of the warmeft af- fedions of the heart, is driven by perfidy, and the fuppofed inhumanity of thofe mofl dear to him in life, into a flate of CO iifirmed mifanthropy and defpair. In this fituation, he is hurried on to t;ie per- petration of a feries of crimes, which find, from their very magnitude and atrocity, a recom- xii PREFACE. recommendation to his diftempered mind. Believing himfelf an inftrument of ven- geance in the hand of the Almighty for the punifhment of the crimes of others, he feels a fpecies of favage fatisfadion in thus accomplifhing the dreadful deftiny that is prefcribed for him. Senfible, at the fame time, of his own criminality in his early lapfe from the paths of virtue, he confiders himfelf as juftly doomed to the perform- ance of that part in life which is to con- fign his memory to infamy, and his foul to perdition. 'It will be allowed, that the imagination could not have conceived a fpeclacle more deeply interefting, more powerfully affeding to the mind of man, than that of a human being thus charac- terifed,and ading under fuch impreffions. It is worthy c^obfervation, that the prin- ciple of Fatalifm is employed in this Trage- dy to a much better end, than that to which it isufcd in the ancient Drama of the Greeks. It is there almoft conftantly found in dired oppofition to juftice and morality. The moft innocent and the mofl virtuous cha- rader PREFACE. xiii rafter is frequently reprefented as the vic- tim of perpetual mifery, in confequence of a blind decree of Fate. We fympathife moft deeply with the unhappy fufferer ; but it is a fympathy which partakes not in the fmalleft degree of pleafure ; for there can be no pleafure while the mind is in a con- ftant ftate of diffatisfadion. The tendency of fuch reprefentations, which arraign the Juftice of Providence, is therefore equally impious and immoralrjf In the Tragedy of the Robbers, the principle of Fatalifm is reconciled to the Juftice of the Divinity, and therefore to the moral feelings of man; for the doom of mifery is reprefented as the juft confequence of criminality, and the chief punilhment of the offender is the in- tolerable anguifh of his own guilty mind. This Tragedy has been performed on fe- veral of the Theatres of Germany with a fuccefs correfpondent to its merit. — So pow- erful, indeed, were its effeds, and, as fome thought, fo dangerous, that in feveral States its reprefentation v/as prohibited by the le- giflature. ^W PREFACE. giflature. An anecdote which is current in Germany, if admitted to be a fad, would Ihowthat thefe ideas of a rigour apparently impolitic were not ill founded. *' After '* the reprefentation cf this Tragedy at Fri- '' bourg, a large party of the youth of the ** city, among whom were the fons of fome *' of the chief nobility, captivated by the ^* grandeur of the charader of its hero, ' ' Moor ^ agreed to form a band like his in " the forefts of Bohemia, eleded a young *' nobleman for their chief, and had pitch- ■* ed on a beautiful young lady for his A- ** melia, whom they were to carry off from *' her parents houfe, to accompany their '' flight. To the accompliihment of this '' defign, theyi^d bound tliemfelves by the *' molt tremendous oaths ; but the confpi- '' racy was difcovered by an accident, and " its execution prevented*.'' If the Tranflator of the Robbers were not convinced that this anecdote, of which per- haps- * Account of the German Theatre. Tranfa£lions of the Rojal Society of Edinburgh. PREFACE. XV haps there has been fome flight foundation in truth, has been very greatly exaggerated, and indeed altogether mifreprefented, he would acknowledge himfelf to ftand in need of a ftrang apology for introducing this piece to the knowledge of his countrymen: For who could juftify himfelf to his own mind for diffeminating and even recom- mending that compofition, which has fhown itfelf, by its effeds, to be of the rnoft dan- gerous tendency ? — But the Tranflator, en- couraged by the teflimony of his ovv^i feel- ings, makes a bold appeal to the feelings of others, and has no fcruple to affertj that this piece, fo far from being hoiUle in its nature to the caufe of vh'tue, is one of the moft truly moral compofitions that ever flowed from the pen of genius: Nor is there a hu- man being, whofe heart is in the flighteft. degree fufceptible of virtuous emotions, that will not feel them roufed into a flame, and every latent principle of morality called forth, and ftrengthened by an exercife of the paflions,as fdutary as ever was furnifli- ed by imaginary fcenes. For, what exam- ple XVI PREFACE. pie fo moral in its nature, as that of u no ble and ingenuous mind yielding at firft to the blandifhments of pleafure, embarking heedlefsly in a courfe of criminal extrava- gance, which leagues him with a fociety of the moft worthlefs and profligate of his fpe- cies — perpetually at war with his own bet- ter feelings, which give him the keeneft pangs of remorfe — the bonds of this afTo- ciation becoming at length indiffoluble, till, wading on gradually through fcenes of in- creafing atrocity, he feels, in the fnlp wreck of all his happinefs in this world, a dread- ful anticipation of that inevitable doom of mifery which he knows is to attend him in the next ? — What is there, it muft be afked, in an example of this kind, which is unfa- vourable to the caufe of morality ? Is it the grandeur of the charader of Moor ? But this very grandeur is the circumftance which makes the example more forcibly perfuafive to virtue. The grandeur of his charadler confifts in thofe excellent endow- ments of nature which guilt has poifoned and perverted to the bane of fociety, to a determined hoftility againft his own fpe- cies, PREFACE. xvii cies, and to the mod poignant mifery of their once amiable pofleflbr. — Is* -this a grandeur of charafter which incites to imi-* tation, or which can corrupt by its exam- ple ? Far otherwife. With equal juftice might we arraign the poem of Milton of immoral tendency, for having' reprefented the arch-fiend with the charaders of a fal- len angel. — We admire, but it is with awe and horror. — We gaze on the precipice with an aftonifhment mixed with delight, but we draw back while we gaze on it. The other principal charaders in this Play have the mod clired; tendency to produce pioral inilruftion. The weaknefs of an in- dulgent parent, whofe over-w^eaning affec- tion for one of his fons excites the fraternal hatred of the other, is produftive of the moft miferable confequences. The unqua- lified depravity of the younger fon, his fiend-like malevolence, and atrocious guilt, are attended w^ith a puniihment as horrible as it is merited. The exhibition of the Tragedy of the Robbers at Fribourg had in all probability produced xviii P R E FA C E. produced among the youth of the public ^hool^ome hoUday-froUc, which in its con- sequences was ^rious enough to attraft the attention of the poUce of the city. Some boyiih depredations might have been com- mitted, and perhaps a youthful intrigue have been difcovered, in which the princi- pal party had availed himfelf of the aid of his companions.— Thefe circum:ftance3, magnified by report, will Sufficiently ac- count for the anecdote above mentioned. A French tranflation of this Tragedy appcctrs in the Theatre Allemand, publifh- ed in twelve volumes 8vo, by MefT. Friedel and De Bonneville. The Englifh Tranfla- tor's opinion of that verfion is, that it is perhaps as good as the language of the tranflation will admit of: But as the French language in point of energy is far inferior to our own tongue, and very far beneath the force of the German, he owns he is not withoi;t hopes that his tranflation may be found to convey a more juft idea of the ftrjking merits of the original. THE THE PERSONS. : } His Sons, MAXIMILIAN, COUNT DE MOOR» CHARLES DE MOOR, FRANCIS DE MOOR. AMELIA, his Niece, SPIEGELBERG, SWITZER, GRIMM, SCHUFTERLE, ROLLER. Young Libertines, who become Rob bers. RAZMAN, KOZINSKI, HERMAN, the Natural Son of a Nobleman. A CO?,IMISSARY, DANIEL, an old Servant of the Co^nt de Moors. SERVANTS, ROBBERS, &:c. The Scene is laid in Gernrfany, at the time of the en- admeat of a perpetual peace, in the beginning of thf fixteenth century. THE ROBBERS A C T I. SCENE, FRANCONU. A Hall in Count de Moor's Cajlle. The Old Count de Moor, and his Son Francis. FRANCIS. JjUT you are not Well, Sir: — You look pale. OLD MOOR. Quite well, my fon. — What have you to fay to me? FRANCIS. The Pofl is coitie in. — A letter from our corre- fpondent at Leip?.ick A OLD 2 THE ROBBERS. OLD MOOR, (Earnejlly,^ Any news of my fon Charles ? FRANCIS. Hm, hm. Why, yes — but — I am afraid — If — you were ailing at all — or in the leaft indifpo- fed — I beg pardon — I will tell you at a more con- venient time. (Half apart). Such tidings are not for a frail old man. OLD MOOR. Great God I What am I doom'd to hear ! FRANCIS. Let me ftep aiide one moment, while I drop a tear of compafFion for my poor loft brother. — But on this fubjed, as he is your fon, 1 fhould be li- lent. — As he is my brother, 1 ought for ever to conceal his fhame Yet it is my firfl: duty to o- bey you — in this inllance, a melancholy duty.— Pity me, Sir ! I need your pity I OLD MOOR. O Charles, Charges I how^ you wring your fa- ther's heart ! — Ah did you but know that on your ; condud: hangs his feeble life I— Alas I that every frefh THE ROBBERS. 3 freih account I hear, ihould bring me nearer to the grave ! FRANCIS. Is it then fo? poor old man I Heaven forbid that I fhould e'er abridge your days * I OLD MOOR. There is but one Hep more; — one httle flep. Let him accompHfh his Will, fjtttitig down. J The fins of the fathers m.aft be puniilied, to the third and fourth generation. — Be it even fo! FRANCIS. (Taking the letter out of his pocket. J You know our correfpondent's writing. There — 1 would give a finger of my right hand, to be able to fay he is a liar; — a black infernal liar. Call up all your fortitude, Sir. — Pardon me, Sir, you mull not read this letter; — it were too much to know all at once. OLD MOOR. All, did you fay? O my fon, you wifh to fpare this gray head; but A 2 FRANCIS, * Germ. JVir its of a Cartouche vaniih before them. But when thefe fplendid bloIToms come to their full mriturity, — for how can one expert perfection at fo early an age ;— perliaps, Father, you may have the fatisfadion ot feeing him at the head of one of thole troops that chufe the hallow- ed recefs of the foreit for their abode, and kindly eafe the weary traveller of his burden I — Perhaps, before you go to the grave, you may have it in your power to make a pilgrimage to the monu- ment which will be raifed for him between hea^ ven THE ROBBERS. yen and earth I — Perhaps, Father, — O my poor father! find out for yourfelf another name, — or the very boys in the ftreets will point their fin,a^ers at you, — the boys who have feen your fon's effigy in the market-place of Leipzick.] OLD MOOR. Is this well, my Francis — muft you too pierce mv heart? — O mv children I FRANCIS. Yes I — you fee that I too have afpiiit; but my fpirit is a fcorpion's fpirit: — Ay, that poor, that ordinary creature Francis, that Hock, that w^ooden puppet, fo frigid, fo infenfible: — and all thofe pretty epithets with which you were pleafed to mark the contrail 'twixt the brothers, when he fat on your knee and pinched your cheek. — He, poor creature, — 'twas of me you fpoke, — he will die within his narrow bounds, moulder away, and be forgotten, — while his brother's fame, the re- nown of that great, that univerfal genius, (ball fly from one extremity of the earth to the other I — Yes, with uphfted hands,! thank thee, Heaven I that the poor Francis, the cold, the ftupid ilock — has no refemblance of his brother. OLD THE ROBBERS. OLD MOOR. Pardon me, my child. — Reproach not thy mi- ferable father, whofe fondeft hopes are blafted for ever. — That God, who has ordained thefe tears to flow for the crimes of thy brother, has merci= fully appointed that thou fhuuldft wipe them a- way. FRANCIS. Yes, my Father, — thy Francis will wipe thofe tears away; thy Francis wdl facrifice his own life to prolong the days of his fattier; — thy life ihall be the rule of all my adlions — the fprmg of every thought ; — nor ihall there be in nature a tie fo ftrong, a bond fo facred, as not to yield to that firfl of duties, the prefervation, the comfort, of that precious life I— Do you not believe me, Sir? OLD MOOR. Thou haft many and great duties to fulfil, my fon. — May Heaven blefs thee for what thou haft done, and what thou yet fliait do for me. FRANCIS. Say then at once, that you were happy if you could Hv^t call that wretch your fon. OLD THE ROBBERS. OLD MOOR, Peace, O peace! — when he firfl: came into life, when my arms fullained for the firll time his in- fant limbs, did I not then a^^peal to heaven, did 1 n()t call God himfelf to witnefs of my happi- nefs ? FRANCIS. You faid fo then.— How have you found it now ? Is there, even among your own fervants, fo iow, fo abjed a being,' that you v/ould not ex- change conditions with him; — enviable in this re- fpecl his lot, that he is not the father of fuch a fon. Yes, — v/hile he lives, what have you to look for but bitrernefs of foul — but dill increafing torments ? till nature herfeif fink under the weight of her afflidion. OLD MOOR. Oh what a load of years has afflidion already anticipated on thefe gray hairs! FRANCIS. Well then — fuppofe you throw him off at once; — renounce fur ever this OLD MOOR. C Starting with emotion.) What didil thou fay? renounce 10 THE ROBBERS. renounce him!— Wouldfl thou I Ihould curfe my fon? FRANCIS. Not fo, my Father, — curfe thy fon ! God for- bid. — ^But whom doll thou call thy fon?-— Is it the monfter to whom thou gavefl hfe, and who in re- turn does his utmofl to abridge thy hfe ? OLD MOOR, Unnatural child I ah me I— but ftill, ftill my child I FRAisrCIS. Yes, an amiable, a precious child, whofe conti^ nual ftudy is to get rid of an old father.— O that you fhould be thus flow to difcover his charader : . Will nothing remove the fcales from your eyes ? No your indulgence mufl rivet him in all his vices; your fupport encourage, and even warrant them.— Thus you may avert the curfe from his head— that eternal curfe, which mufl now fall up-- on your own. OLD MOOR. Tis jufi, mod juil:-^Mine, mine alone is all the guilt. FRANCIS. THE ROBBERS. ii FRANCIS. How many thoufands, who have drunk deep of the cup of pleafure, have been reclaimed by fuffering? — Is not the bodily pain which is the confequence of vice a certain mark of the inter- pofition of Heaven ? And muft the tendernefs of man impiouily Ttrive to avert that falutary confe- quence ? — Think on that, Sir, — if he is expofed for fome time to the preiTare of misfortune, is it /not probable he will amend ? — But if, in the great ifchool of afHiclion, he ftill remain incorrigible, 'then, — woe be to that mifguided parent, w^ho counteradls the decrees of eternal WifdomI What fay you. Father? OLD MOOR. I will write to him, that 1 throw him off for e- FRx\NCIS, 'Twere right, and wifely done OLD MOOR. That he never fee my face again. FRANCIS. That will have a good effecl. • OLD 12 THE ROBBERS. OLD MOOR. CWith emotion.) Till he become another man FRANCIS. Right, Sir, quite right.— But fuppofe him now to come, like a hypocrite, and woo you to compaf- fion, and fawn and flatter till he obtains his par- don ; and the next moment he laughs at the fond weaknefs of his father, in the arms of his harlots, — No, no. Sir. Let him alone, till confcience a- waken him ; — then he will of his own accord re- turn to his duty, — then may we expecT; a fincere amendment. OLD MOOR. I muft write to him imm.ediately. CHe is go- ing out. J FRANCIS. Stop, Sir; cne word more. — I am afraid your anger may make you fay fomething too harfh It would be cruel to drive him at once to defpair. — And (hejltating), on the other hand — don't you think — that he might be apt to interpret a letter from your own hand, as perhaps a— fort of par- don — Would it not be better, Sir, if I fliould write to him.^ OLD THE ROBBERS. 13 OLD MOOR. Do fo, my fon. — Oh, it would have broke my heart to have written to hira I Write to him, that FRANCIS. (Hajlily.), Is that agreed then ? OLD MOOR. Write to him, that a thoufand tears of blood, a thoufand lleeplefs nights— But don't, rry^fbn^dpnlt drive him to defpair. FRANCIS. Come, Sir, Won't you go to bed,— this affedls you too much. OLD MOOR. Write to hini, that^his^father's heart— But do not drive him to defpair ! (He goes off in great a- gitation.) FRANCIS. (Looking at him with an air of mockery,} Ay, be comforted, my good dotard. Never more fliall you prefs your darhng to your bofom;— no, there 14 THE ROBBERS. there is a gulph between — diftant as heaven from hell. — He was torn for eVer from your arms, be- fore you knew it was poilible you ever could have delired it. — Thefe papers muft not be feen ; — that might be dangerous — if the hand- writing w^ere known. CHe gathers up all the f craps of paper, J — 1 fl:ould be a pitiful bungler indeed, if I knew not yet how to tear a fon from the heart of his father, were they linked together with chains of iron. — Courage my boy I the favourite's remo- ved; — that's a giant's ftep.— But there is another heart, from which I muft tear that image; ay, were that heart to break for it. — (He walks with aftriding Jlep acrofs the Jl age. J 1 have a heavy Jdebt of hatred againft Nature, and by my foul, I'll make it good ! — Why was that hideous bur- den of deformity laid upon me alone; — of all my race, on me alone I ( Stamps with his foot. J Hell and damnation! on me alone;— as if ihe had formed m»e only of the fc um, the very refufe of her fluff I She damn'd me frt3m my birth ! And here 1 fw^ear eternal enmity againft her. — I'll blaft her faireft works ^What are to me the ties of kindred ! I'll burft thofe trammels of affedion, — bonds of the foul — I never knew their force: — She deny'd me the fweet play of the heart, and all its perfualive eloquence. — What muft its place fupply ? Imperious force; — henceforth be that the THE ROBBERS. ^s the only fervant of my wifhes, — and all (hall yield ^ before me. f Enter Amelia. J — She comes Jlowly forwari from the back part ofthejlage.) FRANCIS. She comes! Aha! the medicine works; — ^I know it by her ftep. — I love her not; — but I can- not bear that another fhould be happy in thofe charms. — In my arms, fhall they be choked and withered in the bud; — nor ever man fhall reap their bloom. — Ha, what are you doing there ? (Amelia, without ohferving him, tears a nofegay in pieces, and treads it underfoot.) (Francis, Approaching with a mcdicious air.) What have thefe poor violets done to oHendyou? AMELIA. (Starting, and meafuring him with a long look.) Is it you! — you here ! whom of all mankind I moll deiired to fee. FRANCIS. Me? Is it poffible !— me of all mankind I AMELIA. You, Sir, even you.— I have hungered— I have thirfted i5 THE ROBBERS. thirfted for the fight of you.— Stay, I conjure you. —Here, poifoner, let me enjoy my higheft plea- fure, let me curfe thee to thy face. FRANCIS. Why am I thus treated? — You wrong me, child; — ^go to the father, who AMELIA. The father, Ha! that father, who gives his fon the bread of defpair to eat — while he pampers himfelf with the richefl: delicacies ; — who gluts his palled appetite with coftly wines, and refts his palfied limbs in down, — while his fon, — his noble fon,— the paragon of all that's worthy, all that's amiable, that's great, — wants the bare neceflaries of life. — Shame on you, monfters of inhumanity, unfeeling, brutal monfters I — His only fonl FRANCIS. I thought he had two fons. AMELIA. Ay! He deferves many fuch fons as you. — Yes, when flretched on the bed of death, he fhall ex- tend his feeble hands, and feek to grafp for the lail time his injured, noble Charles, let him feel thy THE ROBBERS. i7 thy icy hand, thou fiend, and fhudder at the touch! — Oh how fweet, — how delicious the curfe of a dying father! FRANCIS. You rave, my child! I pity you! AMELIA. Doft thou fo?— >Doft thou pity thy brother?— No, favage ! thou hatell him ! Thou hated me too, I hope, FRANCIS. I love thee, Amelia,— as my own foul I love thee. AMELIA. Well ! — If you love me, can you refufe me one fmall requeft ? FRANCIS. Nothing can I refufe thee, — were it my life it- felf. AMELIA. Well then!— I a(k w^hat you will grant, with all your foul. — (Proudly,)-— I afk you to— hate me ! I fhould die for ihame, if, while 1 thought on Charles, I could for a moment believe that thou didfl not hate me.— -Promife me that thou wilt, and go, villain as thou art, — leave me. B FRANOIS, i8 THE ROBBERS. FRANCIS. Charming enthufiafti How that empaffioned foul enchants me I (Puts his hand on Amelias heart.) Sweet flatterer I Palace of delight, where Charles reign'd fole monarch. — Temple facred to his divinity ! — He was ever prefent to thofe beau- teous eyes— prefent even in thy dreams. — In him all animated being feemed concentrated. — Crea- tion itfelf fpoke but of Charles alone to that en- raptured foul \ AMELIA. (With great emotion. J Yes I — I own it was fo! — Yes, in fpite of you, barbarians, to the world I will avow it. — 1 love him — I adore him I FRANCIS. Hov/ ungenerous, how cruel I to make fo ill a return to fo much fondfiefs — nay, to forget- AMELIA. Forget I— What mean'il thou, wretch?' FRANCIS. Wore he not once a ring of yours ; — a ring you put yourfelf upon his finger ? A diamond ring, a pledge of your fond love? It is a hard trial, I own, for the heat of youthful blood — and hardly refifti- ble. THE ROBBERS. 29 bie. — Thofe wantons have fuch arts, fuch fafcinat- ing channs-^ there is fome apology for a young man — and then, how could he help it ? he had nothing elfe to give her — furely fhe paid him am- ply for it by her carefles. AMELIA. My ring to a wanton ? how fay ft thou ? FRANCIS. Fy, fy ! 'twas infamous indeed — But ftill, if that had been all — v/as it not eafy to have redeem'd it, however coitly — a good Jew might have lent the money. — But perhaps fhe did not like the fafhion of it — it may be he changed it himfelf for a handfomerl AMELIA. C Warmly.) But ^.'zy ringi— ;;zy ring] FRANCIS. Ay, think of that Had I had fuch a jewel— and from Ameha tool — death itfelf fliould not liave ravifh'd it from this hand — What think you, Amelia? — 'Tis not the value of the diamond, 'tis not the coftlinefs of the work — 'tis love that gives ':' value.— Dear child I (he weeps— Oh ! curs'd be B z he 20 THE ROBBERS. he that caus'd thofe precious tears to flow — Ah ! and if you knew all — could you but fee him now ■ — fee him with thofe features I AMELIA. With what features, monfterl FRANCIS. Hufli, huili, my gentle foul I afk me no further. (Speaking as if apart ^ hut loud enough to he heard hy her' J 'Twere fomething if that abominable vice had but a veil to conceal its deformity from the fight of the world — but how hideous its afpecl, mark'd by the yellow livid eye — the hollow death- like features, the bones that pierce the Qirivell'd fkin — the broken faultering voice — the frail and tottering carcafe, while the poifon preys into the very marrow of the bones — Horrible and loathfome pidlure — Faugh I how the thought fickens ! Do you remember, Amelia, that miferable objedl who died lately in the hofpital — whofe contagious breath tainted the air — v;hom modefty forbade to look at Recal, if thou canft, that loathfome i- mage Such, O horrible to think I is now thy once lov'd Charles I His lips diflil poifon — his kifles pef- tilence and death AMELIA, THE RO.BBERS. 21 AMELIA. Detefted, fliamelefs flanderer I FRANCIS. Does this image of thy lover infpire thee with horror ? Then paint him, Ameha, in your own i- magination — the lovely, the divine, the angelic Charles I Go! enjoy the ambrolia of his lips, — in- hale his balmy breath ! fArnelia hides her face with her hands. J Oh extacy I What rapture in thofe embraces I — But is it not moll unjufl — nay cruel, to condemn a man becaufe he is fo unfor- tunate as to be the victim of difeafe ? May not a great foul inhabit a foul carcafe ? ffVith malig- nant irony.) May not the beauties of the mind dwell in a tainted body — or the foft voice of love iflue from the lips of corruption? — True indeed, if the poifon of debauchery fhould taint the foul as v/ell as the body ; if impurity and virtue were inconfiftent, as a withered rofe lofes its perfume, then AMELIA. fWith rapture. J Ha I once more I know my Charles! my own Charles! Liar! 'tis falfe as hell! You know, monfter! it is impoffible! C Francis remains for a while ahforpt in thought^ and then B 3 turns 22 THE ROBBERS. turns away fuddenly, as if going out,) Whither art thou going I — Does Iliame overpower thee? FRANCIS. (Covering his face,) Let me begone — let my te^rs have their free courfe. — Cruel, tyrannic fa- ther! that could abandon to mifery the befl:, the worthieft of thy children! — ^Let me hence this mo- ment, to throw myfelf at his feet — and on my knees intreat him to heap npon my head that hea- vy m^aledidlion — To throw me off, diiinherit me for ever — To facrifice my blood, my life, my all for him ! AMELIA. What now! — Is it pofTible ? Art thou yet my Charles's brother — the kind, the tender- FRANCIS. O Amelia ! how I love, how I admire that match- lefs conflancy of affedion P — Wilt thou pardon me that moil fevere, that cruel trial of thy love? — How haft thou juftified all 1 hoped, all 1 could have wifned to have found in thee! Thofe tears, thofe lighs— that ardent indignation! — Ah! Such are the certain proofs how much our fouls have ■:'•'-" ^mpatbiied ! AMELIA. THE ROBBERS. AMELIA. (Shakes her head. J No ! by the chafle light of heaven I Not an atom of him, — not a fpark of his foul, — not a particle of his feniibilitj! _ FRANCIS. 'Tvvas on a calm, Itill evening, the lafl before his departure for Leipzick, when taking me along with him to that grove which has fo often witnef- fed the rapturous expreffions of your paffion, your vows of mutual Yoyq ; — there, after a long iilence, he took my hand in his ; and while the tears al- moll choked his utterance, I leave my Amelia, faid he. — I know not how to account for it — but I have a fad prefentiment that it is for ever I Do not abandon her, my dear brother. — Be her friend, her Charles! Should it happen, that Charles — fhould never return ;— -that he were gone for e- ver. CHe throws hinifelf at Amelia^ s feet, and kijfes her hand with ardour: J — And he is gone for ever, — no more v;ill he return; — and i have pledged my facred promife. AMELIA. f Springing back. J Traitor I Are you now de- tededl — 'Twas in that very grove that we ex- changed 24 THE ROBBERS. changed our folemn plighted oaths, that no other love, — even after death — What an impious wretch art thou, — how execrable I — Quit my fight ! FRANCIS. You know me not, Amelia. — Still, flill you know me not. AMELIA. O I know you well, — mofh completely well at this inftant. — And you my Charles's confident ! Yes fure- — to you he would have opened all liis foul ; — on your bofom he would have fhed thofe tears for me I figh'd forth my name in your blaft- ed ear — As foon would he have written it on the pillory I — Quit my fight I • FRANCIS. You infult me grofsly, Madam » AMELIA. Quit my fight! — Thou hafi: robb'd me of a pre- cious hour. May it be counted on thy worthlefs life I FRANCIS. You hate me then ? AMELIA. THE ROBBERS. 25 AMELIA. I fcorii you, wretch. Begone I FRANCIS. What I (Stamping 'with fury on the ground, J Thou fhalt quake for this. — To be facrificed to an outcaft ! (Goes off hi a frenzy ofpaffion.) AMELIA. Go, iiican and infamous wretch I — Now am I once more with Charles! — Oatcafl:, did he fay? the world is then unhinged:— Outca(l:3 are kings, and kings are outcafts ! 1 would not change the rags w^hich that poor outcail v/ears for the impe- rial purple ! What mufl be that look with which he begs hrj^rp'id! An rj:^ (sl majefl-y itfelf, — a look that dazzles into nought the fplendor of the proud, the pageant triumphs of the rich and great. (She tears the jewels from her neck- J To the dull w^ith you, ye ufclefs ornaments: — Go load the un- feehng head of vanity.— Yc rich, ye proud, be tV»at wealm ye glory in your curfe: be your piea- fures your poifon I— Charles, Charles, now 1 an; worthy thee I^ \_Exit. SCENE. 26 THE robbers; SCENE, An Inn on the frontiers of Saxony, CHARLES DE r.IOOR. (Alone walking about with impatience. J What is -become of thofe fellows ? Sure they have been upon Jpj;ig. iram^^ — Here, houfe I get me fome more wine I 'Tis very late, and the poll not yet arrived. (Putting his hand on his heart.) How it beats here ! Halloah I More wine ! wine, 1 fay ! I need a double portion of courage to-day — for joy, or for defpair. (Wine is brought, — Moor drinks, andjtrikes the table violently "with the glafs.J What a damn'd inequality in the lot of mankind I— W^hile the gold lies ufelefs in the mouldy coffer I of the niifer, the leaden hand of poverty checks the daring flight of youth, and chills the fire of enterprife : — ^Wretches, whofe income is beyond computation, have worn my threfhold in dunning payment of a few miferable debts ;- — yet fo kind- ly have i entreated them ; — grafp'd them by the hand;--give me but a fmgle day!-— All in vain.-— What are prayers, oaths, tears to them;— they ouch not the fcaly armour of an impenetrable Ejiter Spiegelberg uvith Letters * SPIEGELBERG. A plague confume it! One itrcke after ano- ther' THE ROBBERS. *7 ther ! Damnation I What thinkeft thou, Moor ? It drives one to madnefs I MpOR. What is the matter now? SPIEGELBERG. The matter!— read — read it yomfelf.-^Our trade's at an end ; — peace proclaimed in Germa- ny*; — the devil confame thofe prieltsl MOOR, Peace in Germany I SPIEGELBERG. 'Tis enough to make a man hang liimfelf : — . Club-lav/ is gone for ever:— All fighting prohi- bited, on pain of death : — Death and fury I Moor, go hang yourfelfl — Pens mud fcribble, Vvdiere fvvords hack'd before I MOOR. (Throws away his /word.) Then let cowards rule. * The a(flion of this play is fuppofed to have pafTed in the reign of the Emperor JMaxjmilian, (grandfather of Charles V.) who m 1506 procured that grent cna(5^ment of the Imperi;il Diet, wliich eihblifhed a perpetual peace between all the different States that compofe the Germanic body. Before his time, they were con- ^ ftantly at war with each other, a (late of fociety favourcible t9 e* V very ipecies of depredation and outrage. 2S THE robb:ers. rule, and men throw by their arms. — Peace in Germany! Germany, this news has blafted thee for ever I Goofe-quills for fwords: — No, I will not think of it I Muft this free fpirit bend to that re- ftraint? this will be chained by their cur ft laws? — /Peace in Germany! Curfe on that peace, that would confine to earth the flight of an eagle — Did peace ever make a great man? — 'Tis war that makes the herol—O, if the fpirit of Arminius* were yet alive in his afhes ! — Place me but at the head of a troop of men like myfelf, and out of Germany, beyond her limits. — No, no, no! It will not do— 'Tis all over with her, — her hour is come! Not an atom of fpirit, not a free pulfe in the pof- ttnty 01 Barb aroja! — Here, I bid adieu to all no- ble enterprife, — and feek once more m^y native peaceful fields ! SPIEGELBERG. What the devil! you'll play the prodigal fon upon us?- — A fellow like you, who has made more gafhes v/ith his fword, than an attorney's clerk has written lines in a leap year! Fie, fie! fiiame up- on it ! Misfortune fliall never make a coward of a man ! MOOR. * Prince of the Cherufci, who withftood the whole power of the Romans in the time of Auguflus, defeated Varus and his le- gions, and uniting the Germanic tribes, nobly aflerted the liberty imd independance of his country. THE ROBBERS. MOOR. Maurice ! — I will aik pardon of my father, and think it no fliamel Call it weaknefs, if you pleafe —it is the weaknefs of a man ; — ancT he who feels it not, mud be either above humanity — or below it.-^ fleer the middle courfe. SPIEGELBERG. Go then ! I know thee no longer for Moor ! Have you forgot how many thoufand times, with the glafs in your hand, you fcoft'd at the old mi -J fer? — " Let him fcrape and hoard as he will — I'll " drink the more for it." — Have you forgot that, Moor ? — That was fpoke like a man — like a gen - tleman— but now MOOR, Curfe on you for that remembrance I May I be curs'd for ever having uttered it I — 'Twas the fpeech of intoxication-^iy^eart abhorr'd what my tongue expreffed. SPIEGELBERG. C Shaking his head. J No, no— that's impoffible — impoffible, brother — Confefs that it is neceffity that makes thee talk thus Come man, never fear I let things be ever fo bad The more peril the more courage ; the more they crufli us, the higher ^o THE ROBBERS. higher we'll rife If the fates throw bars in our way, 'tis to make heroes of us. — Come along I MOOR. (FeeviJJjly.) In my opinion, there's little oc- cafion now for courage — when there's nothing to be done with it. spib;gelberg. So I— You would then give up the game—bury your talents in the earth! — Do you think our paultry exploits at Leipzick w^ere the hmits of hu- man genius ? Let us launch into the great world —Paris and London for me I There, if you give one the tile of honefc man, he knocks you down for it. — There a mum has foipe pleafure in the? trade — 'tis on a grand fcale. — What do you flare at ? — Such charming counterfeiting of hands, load- ing of dice, picking of locks, gutting of flrong boxes I— Ay, Spiegelberg mull be your mailer I Let the poor dog be hanged who chufes to ftarve rather than crook his lingers 1 MOOPv. (Irrjiiically.) — What, have you got that length? SPIEGELBERG. You miflruil me i think.— Stay till I get warm'd in the bufinefs.'and you fhall fee wonders.-:— Your fliallow I THE ROBBERS. 31 fliailow brains will turn in your head when you hear the projects I flmll form. (Striking the ta- ble. J Aut Ccsfar, aiit nihil..-^o\x fliall all be jea- lous of me. MOOR. (Looking at hhnjledfajlly . ) Ma uric e ! SPIEGELBERG. (J^armly^ Yes, jealous of me — ^inadly jealous, you, and every one of you.^-I will invent fuch plans as fhall confound you all. — How the light breaks in I — What great ideas dawn upon my mind — What giant-projecls formed in this creative brain ?— Curs'd lethargy of the foul I {Striking his head.^ that chained my better judgment, cramp'd all my ftrength of mind—ruin'd all my profpecls — I am novv' awake — 1 feel what I am, what I mud yet be Go leave me— you ihall all be indebted to my bounty for your fupport ! MOOR. You are a fool ! The wine has o-ot into vour head I 'Tis that makes you blufler fo. SPIEGELBERG. (Still more mimated,^ Spiegelberg, they will fay. Art thou a magician, Spiegelberg ?—What a pity, Spiegelberg, fays the King, ^'-^n M-ert not a ge- nera). 32 THE ROBBERS. neral, thou would'ft have made the Turks creep into their holes likt rats. — Now I think I hear the ©odors fay, what a iofs it is this man had not been bred to phyiic ; — he would have found out the Elixir vit^jd. Ah, had he turned his thoughts to finance, fay your Statefrnen *, what a figure v/ould he have made ;— he would have changed the very ilones into gold. — The name of Spiegel- berg (hall fly from pole to pole I And you, ye co- wards, ye reptiles, ye fnall crawl in the dirt, while Spiegelberg fnall foar to the temple of glory, with an et^gle's flight I MOOR. A good journey to you I foar av/ay to the pin- nacle of glory — from the top of the gallows I— In the fhade of my paternal vvoods, in the arms of my Amelia, i court far nobler pleafures. — 'Tis now eight days fmce I have written to my father to en- treat his pardon. I have not concealed from him the fmallefc circumfiance of my mifcondudl ; and lincere repentance will ever fmd forgivenefs — Maurice, let us part — part never to meet again-^the pofl is arrived — at this very hour my father's par- don is within thefe walls. Enter Switzer, Grimm, Roller, a?id Schufterle. ROLLER. * The exprefilon in the original is, '* Your Siillys ;^* an an:"- .hronifm, excufable from the harry of compofition. THE ROEEERS, 35 ROLLER, 'y Do you know, that there is a fearch for us ? GRIMP^l. That every moment we may exped to be ap- prehended? MOOR, I am not furprifed .at it, — nor do I care how matters go. — Have none of you feen Razman? Did he fpeak of no letters that he had for me ? ROLLER. I fuppofe he has fome, for he has been looking for you a long time. MOOR. Where is he ? Where, where ? fis going out. J ROLLER. Stay, we defired him to be at this place. You tremble, Sir? MOOR. I do not tremble. — Whatihould I tremble for? JFriends, this letter, — rejoice with me, — I am the happieil of men ! Tremble I why Ihould 1 trem- C ble? 34 THE ROBBERS. ble ? — CSwitzerJits down in Spiegelberg*s place, and drinks his wine, J Enter Razman, MOOR. CRunnifig up to him,) The letter I where is the letter ? RAZMAN. {Giving him a letter, which he opens with eager- nefs,J What now? Why, you feem petrified! MOOR. My brother's hand ! ROLLER. What the devil is Spiegelberg about there ? GRIMM. The fellow's out of his fenfes ; — he's playing tricks like a monkey; — he has got St Vitus's dance. SCHUFTERLE. His wits are a-wool-gathering : — He's making verfes, I fuppofe. ROLLER. THE ROBBERS. 3J ROLLER. Spiegelberg ! hey, Spiegelberg !— The bead does not hear me. GRIMM. (Shaking him by thepoulder.) Hallo ! fellow, are you in a dream ? SPIEGELBERG. (Who all this time had been making gejlures on his feat, like a man who is conceiving fome great projeB, Jlarts up with a wild afpe6ly and feizes Switzer by the throat-) Your purfe, or your life ! (Switzer, with great coolnefs, drives hint againjl the wall.— All laugh. Moor lets fall the letter, and is going out in dijlr action. — The rejl keep Jilence for a while y and look at each other. J ROLLER. (Stopping him. J Moor, Where are you go- ing ? — What's the matter, Moor ? GRIMM. What can be the matter ? — He's as p^le as a corpfe. C 2 At OCR. 56 THE ROBBERS. MOOR. Loft I loll for ever I (Rujljes out, J GRIMM. He mull have got llrange news. — Let's Tee \vhat it can be I ROLLER. (Takes tip the letter and reads.) *' Unfortunate *' brother," A pleafant beginning I " I am forry to " inform you, that you have nothing more to hope «' for — Your father fays,, you may go wherever " your evil genius fhall direcl you : — He gives you " up to perdition. He bids me tell you, that *' though you were to come in tears, and cling to *• his knees, you need not hope for pardon ; —that *' you may expecl a dungeon of the caille for your " apartment, and bread and water for your fufte- '' nance, till your brillly hairs outgrow the feathers " of an eagle, and your nails the claws of a vul- " ture. Thefe are his very words. — He orders me " to flop here, — to bid you an eternal adieu. — I " pity you from my foul." *' Francis de Moor." SWITZER. There's a pretty, fweet, little brother for you ! — And this vermin is called Francis .^ SPIEGELBERG. THE ROBBERS. 37 SPIEGELBERG. ( Sneaking for^vards.) Bread and water, was that the word I — A fine life indeed I No, I (hall find a better for you than that. — Didn't I always tell you, that I mufl fcheme for you ? SWITZER. What does that blockhead fay? This afs pre- tends to think for us all. SPIEGELBERG. Poor creatures I poor, lame, helplefs animals I No hearts have you to attempt any thing that's great I ' ROLLER. Well, fo we are — you are quite right. — But what do you propofe for our relief I — What's your plan for railing us from this pitiful Hate ? Come, give it us I SPIEGELBERG. (Laughing with f elf -conceit.) Poor things ! to raife you from this pitiful Hate — Ha, ha, ha I Pi- tiful indeed I I thought you had a thimble-full of brains at leaft. You have made a fine cavalcade, and now you may ftable your horfesi Spiegelberg were an afs indeed, if he did not know his own C 3 courfel ^8 THE ROBBERS. 1 courfel I would make heroes of you-— barons, princes, demigods! , , I RAZMAN. Why, that's pretty well to begin with.— This is force break-neck enterprife, I dare engage — fomething that will coft a Lead or two at leaft. SPIEGELBERG, Not your head, I'll anfwer for it. — There's no- thing wanting but courage As for the genius, the contrivance, 1 take that all upon myfelf. — Courage, I fay I Switzer, courage 1 Roller, Grimm, Razman, Schufterle — Courage is the word I SWITZER. Courage I if that were all, I have enough to g© barefoot through the hotteft hell I RAZMAN. Courage! I could fight the devil in his own fliape, for a thief's body under the gallows ! SPIEGELBERG. That's what I like ! Well, if you have courage, let any one of you flep forward, and fay, " I have f fomething yet to lofe — I am not quite thread- '' bare." (After a long paiife.J What, not a word among you ? ROLLER THE ROBBERS. 39 ROLLER. What's the ufe of all this palaver? — If we have fenfe to comprehend the bufinefs, ; and courage to execute it, fpeak it out. SPIEGELBERG. Well then, hearkeel C^e places himfelf 'n the middle of them, and with afolemn tone of adjuration,) If there is a drop of German blood — of the blood of heroes, in your veins come ! — let us betake ourfelves to the forefls of Bohemia — form a troop of robbers, and What do you flare at ? Is your little flafh of courage out already ? ROLLER. You are not the firll rogue indeed who has fet the gallows at defiance — and yet — what choice is left us ? SPIEGELBERG. What choice ? — Why, you have no choice. — Would you chufe to take up your abode in the dungeon for debtors, and fpin hemp till you are bailed by the laft trumpet— or would you gain your miferable morfel of bread with the fpade and mattock ? Would you beg an alms with a doleful tale under a window? — or would you enlift for fecruits? — that's to fay, if your hang-dog vifages did 40- THE ROBBERS. did not betray you— and fubmit to the torments of purgatory, at the pleafure of an overbearing fcoundrelly corporal—to run the gantlope, and dance to the mufic of the drum ; or be chained like a galley-Have to a train of artillery? — There's what you have to chufe upon — a charming cata- logue of delightful occupations? ROLLER, You are the prince of orators, Spiegelberg, when you want to make an honeit man a fcoun- drel Butfay, gentlemen, what's becomeof Moor? SPIEGELBERG. Honefl man, fay you? Will you be the lefs an honefl man, if you follow my advice, than you are at prefent ? What do you call honefl ? To eafe the mifer of a part of his load, and give him found ileep and golden dreams for it ; to bring the flag- nating metal into circulation ; to regulate the un- equal balance of fortunes — in (hort, to bring back the golden age — to rid Providence of a burden, and fave Him the trouble of fending war, pefti^ lence, famine, and phyfic, among us;— to hav 'the proud thought Vv^lien you fit down to yc meal, This is the fruit of my own ingenuity — th. was gained by the courage of a lion— or this t] THE ROBBERS. 41 reward of my watchful nights ;— to draw the re- fpect of all ranks and conditions. ROLLER. And laftly, to enjoy the beatitade of tranflatioa uTto heaven, bodily, and alive ; to fet ilorm, and tempefl, and Time himfelf at defiance ; to foar a- way under the fun, moon, and itars, with the fweet birds in concert around you; and, while kings and potentates are the food of worms, to have the ho- nour of frequent vifits from the royal bird of JovCc Maurice, Maurice, have a care of youiTelf ; be- ware of the beafi that has three kgs, SPIEGELBERG. And you are afraid of that, you pitiful animal ? Many a noble fellow, fit to have reformed the world, has rotted between heaven and earth. And does not the renown of fuch men live for centu- ries ?— ay for a millennium ; — v.hile the vulgar herd of kings and princes would be overlooked in the catalogue, but that the hiiiorian finds it ne- ■ cellary to complete his genealogical tree, and fwell the number of his pages, for v/hicli his bookfeller pays him by the llieet. — Ay! and wlien die tra- veller fees him danghng in the wind, — " There,*' <"•-- 1^- "tattering to himfelf, " that man had no wati r 41 THE ROBBERS. " water in his brains, Fll warrant him," — and curies the hardfliip of the times. RAZMAN. Great and maflerly, by Heaven I — Spiegelberg, thou haft a charm, hke Orpheus, to lull the yell- ing Cerberus, confcience. — Take me to yourfelf; — I am yours for ever. GRIMM. Ay, and let them call it infamy. — What then ? At the worft, 'tis but carrying a fmall dofe of pow- der in our pocket, which will fend us quietly over Styx, — to take a nap in that country where no cocks will crow to waken us. — Courage, Maurice I — that's Grimm's confellion of faith, f Gives him his hand. J SCHUFTERLE. — Zounds 1 What a hurly-burly's in this head of mine. It's a fair au6lion: — Mountebanks, Lot- teries, — Alchymiils, — Pickpockets, — you have all your chance; — and he that offers m.oft, fhall have me Give me your hand, couiin. SWITZER. 'fCom-esforzvardJlowly, and gives his hand to Spiegelberg.) THE ROBBERS. 43 Spiegelberg.) Maurice, thou art a great man ; — or rather — the bhrid fow has frael't out the maft, ROLLER. (After a long Jilence , with bis eyes fixed on Swit* %er^) What, And you too, my friend — give me your hand.^ — Roller and Switzer for ever; — ay, to the pit of hell I SPIEGEX^EERG. (Cuts a caper,) Up to the liars, my boys I A free courfe to your Caefars and your Catilines. — Courage ! Off with your glalfes.— Here's a health to the god Mercury I All (drinking.) Here he goes ! SPIEGELBERG. Now, for bufinefs I A twelvemonth hence we ihall be able to buy earldoms. SWITZER. (Muttering.) Yes, if we are not broke on the v/heel. CThsy are going off.) ROLLER. Softly, my boys, foftly,r-where are you going? --.The 44 THE ROBBERS. -—The bead mufl have a head to its body Rome and Sparta could never have flood without a chief to command them. SPIGELBERG. (In atone of complacence.) -Yes, — very right. —Roller fpeaks to the purpofe ;— we muil have a chief, — -a man of talents, great reach, a politic head Ha, ha! (Standing with his arms acrofs.) When I think what you were a few minutes ago, and what a iingle lucky thought has made of you now Yes, truly you .mufl have a chief; — and you'll own, that he that flruck out a thought of that kind had a head-piece, — wife, crafty, poli- ROLLER. If there was any hope, — ^any chance that.— but I defpair of his ccnfent. SPIEGELBERG. (Cajoling.) Why defpair, my friend;— difh- cult as it may be to guide the Ihip when fhe's buifeted by the winds and v;aves, and however cumberfome may be the weight of a diadem, — fpeak it out boldly, my boy.—^Ferhaps—^he may be prevailed upon. i ROLLER. J THE ROBBERS. AS ROLLER. It will be all children's play if he's not our lead- er. — Without Moor, we are a body without a foul. SPIEGELBERG. f Turning ajide peevifhly.J Blockhead ! Ejiter M.OOV, with wild geflures^Jlalks backwards and forwards ^ f peaking to himfelf. MOOR. Men I — Men I falfe ! treacherous crocodiles ! Your eyes are water I your hearts are iron! kilTes on your lips I and poniards in your bofom ! The lion and the panther feed their whelps — the raven ftrips the carrion to bring to her young ; and he — he ! — Whatever malice can devife 1 have learnt to bear — I could finile when my enemy drinks of my heart's blood.-VBut when a father's love be- comes a fury's hate — O then, let lire rage here where once was humanity I the tender-hearted lamb become a tyger and every fibre of this tor- tured frame be rack'd — to ruin and defpairl ROLLER. Hearkee, Moor — what's your opininn— Isn't the 45 THE ROBBERS. the life of a robber better than flarving m a dun- geon on bread and water? MOOR. Why did not this foul inhabit the tyger's bo- fom, that fatiates his maw on human flefh I — Was that a father's kindnefs !— Love for love '.—Would I were a bear of the North, and could arm my ra- venous kind againd thofe murderers! — To repent, and not to be forgiven! — Oh! I could poifon the ocean, that they might drink death in every fource! — I trufted to his compaffion relied on it wholly — and found no pity! ROLLER. Hear me, Moor, hear what I fay ! MOOR. It is incredible — all a dream So earneft a re- queft, a picture of mifery fo llrong — contrition fo iincere ! — the moil favage beaft would have melt- ed to companion. Hones would have wept ; yet he — If I (liould publifh it to the world, it would not be believed — 'twould be thought a libel on the humantfpecies; and yet — Oh! that I could blow the trumpet of rebellion through all nature, and funmion heaven, earth, and feas, to war a-= gainfl this favage race ! GRIM Mo THE ROBBERS. 47 GRIMM. Do you hear, Moor ! This frenzy makes him deaf I MOOR. Begone I fly. Is not your name man ? Was not you born of woman? Out of my light, with that human face I — I loved him with fuch unut- terable aflfedlion. — No fon ever loved a father fo! I would have facrificed a thoufand hves for him. C Stamping with fury. J Ha I where is he that will put a fword in my hand, to extinguilh with one mortal blow this viperous race I — that will teach me where to ilrike, that I might deftroy the germ of exiftence ! — Oh ! he were my friend, my angel, my god I-— I would fall down and worlhip him I ROLLER. We will be fuch friends— let us but fpeak to you. GRIMM. Come with us to the forefls of Bohemia— we'll form a troop of robbers— and th^n— (Moor Ji ares at him J SWITZER. Thou (halt be our Captain !— Thou muft be our Captain. SPIECELBERG. 4g THE ROBBERS. SPIEGELBERG. {Sits down in rage- J Slaves and poltroons I MOOR. - Who put that thought in your head ? tell me, iirrah I (Seizhig Roller with a rough grafp,) That mans heart of thine never conceived the project! Who put it in your head ? — Yes, by the thoufand arms of death I that we will — that we Jhall do ! 'Tis a thought worthy of a divinity I — Robbers and afTaffins — as my foul lives, I will be your Captain I ALL. (With a hud pout,) Long live the Captain ! SPIEGELBERG. (Afile.j Till I give him his mittimus I MOOR. So nov; ! — The fcales drop from my eyes ! What : fool I was to think of returning to my cage ! My foul thirds for action, my fpirit pants for hbeity ! — ^Robbers and ailciliins I with thofe v/ords 1 let all laws at defiance I — Man had no humanity v/hen I appealed to humanity! Pity and com- panion ! here let me throw you off for ever ! — I have THE ROBBERS. 4$ have no father — no affection more I Come, Death and Murder be my mailers ! and teach me to for- get that this heart e'er knew what fondnefs was I Come to my foul, ye fiends I Now for fome hor- rible exploit. — 'Tis refolved, I am your Captain, — and glory to him who moft Ihall murder and de- ftroy — he Ihall have a king's reward. — Here,fland around in a circle, and fwear to be true to me till death I ALL, f Giving him their hands.) Till death I (Spie- gelherg walks q/ide diffatisfied.J MOOR. And now, by this man's right hand, f Stretching out his hand. J I fwear to be your faithful com- mander — till death I Now, by my foul, I'll make ^ corpfe of him who firfl fhews fear among you I And when I break this oath, be fuch my fate from you I — Are you agreed ? ALL. (Throwing their hats in the air. J We're all a- greed ( Spiegelherg grins a malicious finile.) MOOR. Then let us go ! Fear neither danger nor death D — our 5^ THE ROBBERS. — our deftiny has long been fixed, unalterable— and each fhall meet his end as fate decrees — on the down bed, or in the bloody field — the gibbet, or the wheel — one of thefe deaths we die for cer- tain I — [Exeunt, SPIEGELBERG. The catalogue's defedive ! you have forgot treafon 1 END OF ACT FIRST, i THE ROBBERS. 51 ACT 11. SCENE, MQOR's CATTLE, Francis de Moor alone in his apartment. I'VE loll all patience with thefe dodtors. — An old man's life is an eternity. — Muil my noble plans creep the fnaiFs pace of a dotard's lingering hours of hfe? If one could point a new track for death to enter the fort I — If to tear the foul could kill the body! — Ay, that were fomethingi an ori- ginal invention I — He that fhould make that dif- covery were a fecond Columbus in the empire of death! — Think on that, Moor. — 'Twere an art worthy to have thee for its mventor I — How then Ihall we begin the work 1 — What horrible eaio- tion would have the force to break at once the thread of hfe? RageP No I that hungry wolf fur- feits himfelf, and regorges his meal I Grief P That's a worm that lingers in the flefli, and mines his way toollowlyl — FearP No I hope blunts his dart, and will not let him ftrike his prey I — What I are thefe our only executioners? Is the arfenal.of death fo D 2 foon 52 THE ROBBERS. foonexhaufted? Hum I — hum I (Mufmg,) What now ? — No more ? — Fla I I have it I Terror is the word I — What is proof againil Terror ? Reafon, rehgion, hope — all mud give way before this giant fiend I — And then — fhould he even bear the fhock = — there's more behind. — Anguijh of mhid, come aid the imperfecl work [-—Repentance, gnawing viper of the loul^ — monfter that ruminatell thy baneful food I — And tnou Remorfel that livefl on thy mother's fiefh, and waft'll thine own inherit tance !~And you, even you, ye powers of Grace and Mercy ! give your aid I Ye blifsful years o'er-- paft, dilplay your charms to memory's fond retro- fpedt, and poifon with your fweets the prefent hour I — Ye fcenes of future blifs, combine to wound — (hew him the joys of paradife before him, and hold the dazzhng mirror out to hope, but cheat his feeble grafpl — Thus let me play my battery of death — llroke after ftroke incelTant — till nature's mound is broken — and the whole troop of furies feize the foul, and end their work by horror and defpair 1 — Triumphant thought I— So now — -the plan's my own I Now for the work \ Enter Herman. Ha! Deus ex machind! Herman! 1 GERMAN fHE ROBBERS, SB HERMAN. Herman, at your fervice, good Sir! FRANCIS. f Gives him his hand. J t am much obliged to you, Herman. I am not ungrateful, HERMAN. I have proofs of that, Sir. ERANCIS, You fhall have more anon — anon, good Her- man I — I have fomething to fay to you, Herman. HERMAN. I hear you with a thoufand ears ! FRANCIS. I know you well — you're refolute and brave— you have a foldier's heart I — My father, Herman ' — by heavens, he wrong'd you much ! HERMAN. By hell, I won't forget it ! FRANCIS. That's fpoken like a man ! Revenge becomes B 3 a man ! 54 THE ROBBERS. a man I I like you, Herman I Here, take this purfe !- — it fhould be heavier, were I the mafler here. HERMAN. Good Sir, I thank you heartily. — Tis my moil earnell wifh you were fo. FRANCIS. Say you lb, good Herman ? Do you really, — do you in your heart wifh me to be the mafter ? — But my father, — he has the marrow of a lion in his bones ; and I am but a younger fon. — HERMAN. ' I wiili you were the elder, — and he in the lad flage of a confumption. FRANCIS. Ha ! were that the cafe, the eldefl fon would not forget you, my friend. — Then would he raife you from the dull ; from that low condition which fo ill becomes your merits, — nay, your birth : — he would draw you forth into light : — Then fliould you roll in gold — a fplendid equipage ; — then fhould, — but 1 have wandered from what I meant to fay. — Have you quite forgot the fair Edelreich, Herman? HERMAN. I THE ROBBERS. 55 HERMAN. Thunder of Heaven ! Why have you called up that thought ? • FRANCIS. You loft her. — 'Twas my brother that was the conjurer there. HERMAN. He iliall pay dearly for it. FRANCIS. She difmilTed you, I believe,— and he thrufl you down flairs. HERMAN. I fhall thruft him down to iiell for that. FRANCIS. He ufed to fay, 'twas whifpered, that your fa- ther never could look at you, without fmiting his breaft, and crymg " God-a-mercy on my linsl" HERMAN. (FurioiiJly.J Lightning blaft him! — Stop there! FRANCIS. He advifed you to fell your patent of nobility to mend your ftockings, HERMAN. 5^ THE ROBBERS. HERMAN. Hell confume him ! I'll tear his eyes out with thefe nails. FRANCIS. What ! you are exafperated at him. — Poor Herman ! What fignifies your malice ? What harm can you do to him ? What can a rat do to a lion ? — Your rage but makes his triumph the fweeter : — You have nothing for it but to grind your teeth in iilence, — .to fpend your fury in gnawing at a dry cruft. HERJVIAN. (Stamping "with his feet, J I'll crulh him, — trample him beneath my feet I FRANCIS. (Clapping him on theJhoulder,J Well faid, Her- man I You are a gentleman. — This affront muil not be put up with. — You would not renounce the lady ? No, not for the world. — Fire and fury I I would move heaven and earth if I were in your place ! HERMAN. I will not reft till I have him under my feet. ,| FRANCIS. ■♦ THE ROBBERS, 5^ FRANCIS. Not quite fa outrageous, Herman. — Come near, —thou (halt have Amelia. HERMAN, ril have her I in fpite of hell, I'll have her ! FRANCIS. You fhall have her, I tell you, — and from my hand. — Come near I — You don't know perhaps that Charles is as good as diiinherited. HERMAN. (Coming near.) Impoflible I I never heard a vllable of that. FRANCIS, Be quiet and hear me ! — It's now eleven months fmce he has been in a manner banifhed. — Ano- ther time I'll tell you more of this. — But the old man begins to repent a little of the precipitate (lep he has taken ; though (finiling) I flatter my- felf it was not all his own doing neither ; — and the girl too, — Ameha I mean, — purfues him in- ceflantly with her tears and reproaches. — He'll be fending in quell of him by and by all over the world ; 3? THE ROBBERS. ''.vorld; and if he is found, good night to you, Herman* — You may then make your obeifance, and humbly open the coach-door when he goes to church with her. HERMAN, ril llrangle him at the altar I FRANCIS. His father will foon give up his eflates to him, and live in retirement at his folitary callle. — Then that proud hot-headed blufterer will have the reins in his own hand, — and laugh his enemies to fcorn ; — and I, Hernian, I who Vv^ould make a man of you, and load you with riches, — 1 myfelf mud pay my humble duty at his door. — HERMAN. (^Wai*mly,J No, as furs as my name is Her- man, that (hall never be I If there is a fpark of invention in this head, that fhali never be. FRANCIS. Will you prevent it ? You too, my dear Her- man, mull link beneath his fcourge.- — He'll fpit in your face when he meets you in the itreets^ and woe be to you, if you but fhrug a fnoulder, or THE ROBBERS. 5f or crook your mouth at him I — Ay — there's the amount of all your fine profpecls, your hopes of love, your mighty plans. — — HERMAN. f Eagerly. J Tell me then what I mull do. FRANCIS. Hear then, Herman ! You fee how I enter in- to your feelings like a true friend.— Go, change your clothes — difguife yourfelf, fo as not to be known — get yourfelf announced to the old man as one that is juft returned from Hungary — give out, that you were with my brother at the lafl battle, and that you were prefent v/lien he breath- ed his lafl upon the field I HERMAN. Will they believe me ? FRANCIS. Pho I let me alone for that. — Take this packet —Here you'll find a commiflion, and all the ne- ceiTary documents, that would convince fufpicion itfelf of the truth of your ftory. — Only be quick in getting out, and take care you are not feen. — Shp out by the back door into the court, and thence 66 THE ROBBERS, thence over the garden- wall. — As for the wind-, ing lip of the plot, leave that to me 1 , HERMAN. And then it will be, " Long live our new maf- " ter, our noble Lord, Francis de Moor!" 'ji FRANCIS. C Patting hifn on the cheek.) Ha I what a cun- ning rogue you are — you fee it at the firfl glance 1 For look'ye how fure and how quick the project w^orks — Amelia's hopes are gone at once — The old man lays his fon's death at his own door — he falls iick — A tottering houfe does not need an earthquake to bring it down — He'll never outlive your intelligence — Then — then 1 am his only fon — Amelia has loft every fupport, and is the play- thing of my will — Then you may ealily guefs what follows — you — in Ihort all goes to a wiih. — But you muft not flinch from your word I HERMAN. I Flinch ! did you fay ? — The ball might as foon fly back to the cannon I — ^you may depend on me. Farewel. FRANCIS. THE ROBBERS. 6t FRANCIS. (Running after him.) Remember, 'tis all for yourfelf you are working. (Follows him with his eyes to the end of the ft age — and then breaks out in- to an infernal laugh.) Keen, earnell, toawi.h! — Hov/ impetuoully the blockhead throws of his honefty, to fnatcli at an object, that the fmalleil fpark of common fenfe muit convince him he can never attain. ('Peevift:)ly.) No — that's unpar- donable ! This fellow is an arrant knave — and yet he trufls to one's proniife. — It coils him no- thing to deceive an honeil man — and yet v*^hen deceived himfelf he never v/ill forgive it. — Is this the boafted lord of the creation I Pardon me, Dame Nature ! if I ovv^e you a grudge for tliat form you have given me. — Complete your work by flripping me of every veflige of humanity. — Man I thou haft forfeited ail my regard — nor in my confcience do I think there is the finalleft crime in doing all I can to injure thee ! [£. nt. SCEN^, Cz THE ROBBERS. . SCENE, Count de Mook's Bed-chamber, The Count ajleep, Amelia. AMELIA. Softly, — oh foftly, — he is afleep. (She Jtops and looks at him, J How good I how venerable I — ■ Such 'is the countenance with which they paint the bleffed faints I — Angry with thee I Oh no I — \vith that gray head I Oh never, never I (She fcatters rofes upon the bed.) — Sv/eet be thy llum- ber, as the rofes fweet perfume. May the image of Charles vifit you in your dreams ! May you a- wake in a bed of rofes I — I too will go fleep a- midfl perfumes ; — mine is the Rofemary. (She goes afewjleps.) OLD MOOR. (In hisjleep.) My Charles I my Charles I my Charles ! AMELIA. Hark ! His guardian angel has heard my pray- er! (Coining near him,) 'Tis fweet to breathe the air in which his name v/as uttered. — I'll ftay, here. OLD MOOR,; ^4 THE ROBBERS. 6$ OLD MOOR. f Still in his Jleep.J Are you there ? Are you truly there ? Ah ! do not look fo pitifully upon me I — -I am miferable enough already! fHe flirs rejlkfsly.j AMELIA. (Wakens him hajlily.) Uncle ! my dear uncle I — 'Twas but a dream I OLD MOOR. (Half awake.) Was he not there ? Had I not his hand in mine ? — Is not this the fmeU of roles ? O hateful Francis, will you not let me dream of him ? AMELIA, (Drawing hack,) Mark'fl thou that, Amelia! OLD MOOPv (Wakens.) Where am I? — Are you here, my niece? AMELIA. You had a delightful lleep, uncle. OLD MOOR. I was dreaming of my Charles. — Why did they break 64 THE ROBBERS. break my dreams ? — I might have had my pardori from his mouth. AMELIA. (Fajjionately.) His pardon I Angels have no refentment. He forgives you, uncle. (PreJJtng his hand. J Father of my Charles, 1 forgive you too. ' OLD MOOR. No, no, my child, — that v^an cheek, — that deadly pale bears vtitnefs, — in fpite of thee I Poor girl! — I have blafted all the promife of thy fpring, — thy joys of youth. — Don't forgive me, — but oh,^ do not curfe me I AMELIA. Can there be a curfe of love * .^ — Here it is then, my father. (Kijfeshis hand with tendernefs.J OLD MOOR. (Rijingfrom the bed.) What's here, my child! Rofes ? Did you flrew thefe rofes here ? On me — On me, who killed your Charles ? AMELIA. I Itrew'd them on his father! (Falling on his neck,) No more on him can I flrew them I OLD '■* Germ. Die Hebe hat nur elnen Jluch gehrnt. Love has iearnt but one curfe. THE ROBBERS. 6$ OLD MOOR. With what dehght would'ft thou have done fo ! —And yet, my child, unknowingly 'tis done ; — for fee, — know you that pidure? (Br awing ajidc the curtain of the bed, J AMELIA. (RuJJnng towards the piEiure,) 'Tis Charles I OLD MOOR. Such was he in his fixteenth year. — But now how changed I— I fliudder to think upon it. — That fweetnefs, now fell mifanthropy- — that fniile, defpair !— Is't not fo, Amelia ? It was upon his birth-day — in the bower of jeflamine, that you drew that picture of him. AMELIA. O, never will I forget that day! — Pail and gone for ever I He fat juft before me — a ray of the fet- ting fun fhone full upon his face — and his dark locks floated carelefsly on his neck I O, in that hour 'twas all the woman here — the artift was for- got — the pencil fell from my hand — and my trem- bhng lips fed, in imagination, on every line and track of that dear countenance! — My heart was full of the original The weak, inanimate touches E fell €6 THE ROBBERS. fell feebly on the canvas — languid as thofe faint traces which the memory bears of mulic thati is pall * I OLD MOOR. Say on i continue thus I thefe images bring back pail time. — O my child, I was fo happy in your loves ! AMELIA. CKeeping her eyes JMll on the piBure,) No, no, — it is not he ! — no, no, by heaven ! 'Tis not my Charles I — Here I (Striking her heart and her fore- head,) Here he is quite himfelf — fo like — but there fo different. — The pencil can give no idea of that foul that fpoke in his countenance I — A- way with it — 'tis a poor image — an ordinary man! — Oh I I was a mere novice in the art! Enter Daniel. DANIEL. There is a man without who wiflies to fee you. Sir. He fays he brings tidings of importance. OLD MOOR. To me, Amelia, there is but one fubjedl of fuch tidings *Germ. Geftrkbe ada^iQ. Soft mufic of yefterday. THE ROBBERS. 67 tidings — you know it. — Perhaps 'tis fome poor wretch who comes to me for charity — for relief he ihall not go hence in forrow. [Exit Daniel. AMELIA. A beggar ! — and he is let in at once ! OLD MOOR. Amelia ! Oh fpare me, my child ! Enter Francis, Herman in difguife, and DanieL FRANCIS. Here is the man, Sir. — He fays he has terrible news for you. — Can you bear to hear it, Sir ? OLD MOOR. I know but one thing terrible to hear. — Speak it out, friend. — Give him fome wine there. HERMAN. ("In a feigned 'voice. J Will your honour take no offence at a poor man becaufe he brings you bad news ? — 'tis againfl his will. I am a ftranger in this country — but 1 know you well : you are the father of Charles de Moor. E 2 OLD 6S THE ROBBERS. OLD MOOR. How know you that? HERMAN, I knew your fon AMELIA. Is he alive ? — is he ahve?— Do you know him r —Where is he?— where, where? fRu/uiinjJbr-' ward.) OLD MOOR. Do you know my fon ? HERMAN. He fludied at the univerfity of Leipzick. — Whi- ther he went from thence 1 know not — He wan- dered all over Germany bare headed and bare footed, as he told me himfelf, and begg'd his bread from door to door I — About five months afterwards that terrible war broke out between the Poles and Turks and being quite defperate, he followed the victorious army of King Matthias to the town of Pefth. — Give me leave, faid he to the King, to die on the bed of heroes I — I have no father wl OLD MOOR. O do not look at me, Ameha ! kerma: THE ROBBERS. 6<) HERMAN. He got a pair of colours — he followed Matthias in his viclories ; — he and I flept in the fame tent often did he fpeak of his old father — of the days of his former happinefs— and of his blafted hopes — till his eyes ran over at the thought I OLD MOOR. f Hiding his head, J Enough, enough, — -no more I HERMAN. Eight days afterwards, we had a hot engage- ment. — Your fon behaved like a gallant foldier. — He did prodigies that day, — as the whole army v/itnefTed ; — he faw five regiments fuccellively re- lieved, and he kept his ground. A whole fliower of fire was poured in on every quarter. — Your fon kept his ground; — a ball (battered his right hand; — he feized the colours with the left, and fiill he kept his ground. AMELIA. (In tr an/port, J He kept his ground, father I he kept his ground I HERMAN. On the evening of the day of battle, I found E 3 hip- 7a THE ROBBERS. I him lying on the field, — on that fame fpot.— With his left hand he was Hopping the blood that flow- ed from a large v. ound. He had buried his right hand in the earth.—Fellow foldier, faid he, I am told that the General has fallen an hour ago.— He is fallen, faid I, and you — Well then I faid he ■— every brave foldier ought to follow his General. — He took his hand from the wound ; — and in a few moments — he breathed his lail— like a heroo FRANCIS. f Pretending rage. J Curs'd be that tongue I~« May it be dumb for ever. — Wretch I Are you come here, to be my father's executioner ?— -to murder him ?— My father I Anjelia 1 My dear fa- ther! HERMAN. It was the lail requeii of my dying friend. — • Take this fvvord, faid he, in a fauitering voice, — carry it to my old father. — it is marked with the blood of his fon.— 1 ell him, his malediction was my doom ; — 'twas that v/hich made me rufh on battle, and on death 1 die in defpair.— The laf^ word he uttered v;?is,— Amelia, AMELIA. THE ROBBERS. 7^ AMELIA. (As if Jlarting from a deep reverie,) The laft word was Amelia ! OLD MOOR* (With a dreadful Jhriek, and tearing bis hair,) My maledidion was his death ! He died in de- fpair ! HERMAN. Here is the fword, — and here a pidltire that he took from his bufom at the fame time. — Methinks it is this lady's picture. — This, faid he, my brother Francis will What more he would have faid, I know not. FRANCIS. (With aJlonip)ment.) To me, that pidure? To me ? Amelia to me ? AMELIA. (Coming up to Herraan withfiiry.) Impoflor ! Villain, bafe, hired, perfidious villain! (Seizes him rudely.) HERMAN. Madam, I know nothing of it Look at it your- self: — See whether it is your picture: — Perhaps you gave it him yourfelf. FRANCIS, 72 THE ROBBERS. FRANCIS. By heavens I Amelia, 'tis your picture I Yours, as 1 live ! AMELIA. (Giving it back. J 'Tis mine 1 — O heaven and earth I OLD MOOR< (With an agonizing cry.) Oh I My maledic- tion was his death I He died in defpair i FRANCIS. He thought of me in the lafl moment of exig- ence : — Of me I — BleiTed fpirit, — when the hand of death was on him I OLD MOOR. 'Twas I that gave him my curfe I he died by my hand I — he died in defpair I — HERMAN. (With real emotion, and vmch agitated.) I can- not Rand it I This light of mifery unm.ans me I My Lord, farewel. (Jiftde to Francis.) Have you a heart ? How could you do this? \Exit bq/lily, AMELIA. I THE ROBBERS. 73 AMELIA. (Running after him.) Stay, flay I what was his lall word ? HERMAN. (Coming hack.) With his lafl breath, he figh'd Amelia ! \Exit. AMELIA. Amelia I with his lad fighl — No, thou ait no impoftor — it is true — alas, too true I He is dead I pxij Charles is dead I FRANCIS. What do I fee ? What is that upon the fword? — written in blood—Amelia I AMELIA, With his blood? FRANCIS. Am I in a dream ? or is it realiy fo ? — Look at thefe charadlers — theyare traced in blood: '''Fran- *' CIS, do not abandon my Amelia T See again — fee here, on the other lide,'''^i;/2(?//^, all powerful death ^^ has freed you from your vows r Do you mark that? With his dying hand he traced it — he wrote -4 THE ROBBERS. wrote it with his heart's blood — yes, on the awful briuk of eternity he wrote it! AMELIA, Almighty God ! it is his hand -Oh ! he never loved me ! [Exit, FRANCIS. Damnation ! he has a heart of adamant ! thus buffetted, and yet unbroken' — all my art is loft up- on him i OLD MOOR* O mifery ! My child, my daughter, do not a- bandon me ! fTo Francis. J Wretch ! give me back my ion ! ^ FRANCIS. Who was it that gave him his maledidion ?r— who was it that made him rulli on battle and on death ?— who drove him to defpair ?— Oh I he was a charming youth! a curfe v.pon his murderers I i OLD MOOR. C Beating his breaji and forehead.) A curfe ! a curfe 1 curfe on the father who murdered his ov/n fon I I am that curfed father I He loved me, even in death! To expiate my vengeance, he rufli'd on battle and on death !— Monfter that I am ! Oh moniler ! FRANCIS. THE ROBBERS. FRANCIS. (With malignant irony, J He's dead — what lig- nifies this idle lamentation.— 'Tis ealier to murder a man than to bring him to hfe again ! OLD MOOR. Wretch I it was you who made me throw him off, — who forced that maledidion from my heart I — 'Twas you ! — you I— O give me back my fon ! FRANCIS. Roufe not my fury. — -I abandon you in death! OLD MOOR. Monfterl inhuman monfterl give me back my fon I (He rifes furioujly, and endeavours to feize Francis by the throat, who runs out. J Ten thou- ^fand curfes on thy head I Tnou haft robb'd me of my only fjnl (He Jinks down. J Oh! oh! — to be in defpair — and not to die ! — They abandon me in death.— Is my good angel fled? — Yes! e- very angel miud defert the murderer — the hoary murderer! — Oh! oh! will none for pity hold this head — will none releafe this fpirit — no fon! no daughter! no friend! — Is thereto be found not one kind — Oh! defpair! C He faints. J AMELIA. 76 THE ROBBERS. AMELIA. (Coming fiowly in, fees him, andfirieks. ) Dead ! quite dead I (Ri(JJ)es out in defpalr. The fcene clofcs.) SCENE, The Forejls of Bohemia, Razman enters from one fide of the flcige, and Spiegelberg, 'with a hand of robbers, from the q- ther. RAZMAN. Welcome, brother I welcome, my brave fellow, to the forefts of Bohemia. (They embrace.) Where have you ranged, in lightning and in temped : Wht?nce come you now ? SPIEGELBERG. Hot, from the fair of Leipzick at prefent. — There was rare fport I — afK Schufterle.— He bid me congratulate you on your fafe return.— He has joined Moor's great troop on the road. (Sitting douvn on the ground.) And how has it fared v/ith you fmce we left you ? How goes the trade ?■— 1 could tell you of fuch feats, my boy, that you would forego your dinner to hear them. RAZMAN. THE ROBBERS. 77 RAZMAN. I have no doubt on't. — We heard of you in all the newfpapers. — But where the devil have yau picked up all thefe fellows?— Blood and thunder! you've brought us a little army — -you recruit like a hero I SPIECELBERG. Han't I ? — ay, and a fet of clever dogs too ! — Hang up your hat in the fan, and I'll lay you five pounds 'tis gone in the twinkling of an eye, and the devil himfelf fhan't tell where. RAZMAN. f Laughing.) Tiie Captain will make you wel- come with thefe brave boys.— -He has got fome fine fellows too. SPIEGELBERG. Pfliaw! your Captain I— Put his men and mine in comparifon I — Bha I RAZMAN. Well, well, yours may have good fingers — but I tell yoa our Captain's reputation has goc him fome brave fellows I Men of honour I SPIECELBERG, ;a THE ROBBERS. SPIEGELBERG. So much the worfe* Enter Grimm, rtmning in. RAZMAN. What now ? Who's there ? Are there any tra- Tellers in the foreit ? GRIMM. Quick! Quick! Where are the reft ? Zounds! do you ftand chattering there? — Don't you know? — .poor Roller^ » RAZMAN. What now? What of him? GRIMM. He's hang'd — that's ail, — he and four more. RAZMAN. Roller? What? — ^When? — Where did you hear it ? GRIMM. We heard nothing of him for three weeks. — He was all that time in jail, and w^e knew nothing of it : — He was three times put to the rack, to make THE ROBBERS. 79 make him difcover his Captain : — ^The brave fel- low never fqueak'd.- — Yefterday he got his (qr- tence, — and this morning — ^he went off exprefs to the devil. — — RAZMAN. Damnation! Has the Captain heard of it? GRIMM. He heard of it only yefterday : — He is foaming with rage : — You know he always thought high- ly of Roller ; — and now that he underw^ent the rack — We got ropes and a ladder to try to get him out, — but it was all in vain. — Moor himfelf put on the drefs of a Capuchin, and got in to hirn. He endeavoured to perfuade him to change clothes with him, — but Roller poiitively refufed.— And now the Captain has fworn an oath, that made all our hairs ftand on end ! He vow^s he will light him fuch a funeral pile as never king had ; — he will burn them alive. — ^^Fhe town itfelf, I fear, will go for it : — He has long owed them a fpite for their intolerable bigotry: — And you know, when he fays, ■*' Til do it," 'tis as good as if we had done it already. RAZMAN. Ah! good God! poor Roller! SPIEGELBERG, 8i THE ROBBERS. SPIEGELBERG. 1 " Momento mori'' What care I ? (Sings.) The gallows, ray boy, whene'er I pafs by, 9 I cock my left eye, and I blink with the totlier ; When I fee the poor rogue on't, fays I, my dear brother. You may hana there for me. — Better you there than I. Tol de rol, tol de rol. RAZMAN, I (HqftiJy rijing.j Hark I a lliotl (Agreatnoife is heard of firing and huzzaing.) SPIEGELBERG. Another 1 RAZMAN, And another I 'Tis the Captam. (Anoifeof Jinging behind the fcenes.) The wittols of Nuremberg, thefe are the men ! They ne'er hang a thiof till they catch him! Da capo^ Roller's voice is heard, and Switzer's, Halloa !j Halloa. RAZMAN. Roller, bv heavens I 'tis E^ollerl swiTZzr THE ROBBERS. Sr SWITZER and ROLLER. (Still behind the Scene,) Razman, Grimm, Spie- gelberg, Razman ! RAZMAN, Roller ! Thunder and lightning ! Fire and fu- ry ! (They run to meet them,) Enter Moor, as difmounting from his horfe^ Rol- ler, Switzer, Schufterle, and the whole band, all be- /pattered as from the road. MOOR. Liberty ! Liberty I my boys ! Roller is free — Take my horfe, — and dafli a bottle of wine over him I (He Jits down on the ground,) 'Twas hot work rAzman. (To Roller,) By the forge of Pluto 1 you have had a refurredion from the wheel ! SPIEGELBERG. Are you his ghoft? or are you flefh and blood? ROLLERi (^ite breathlefs,) Flelh and blood, my boy ! Where do you think 1 come from ? F GRIMM. Si THE ROBBERS, GRIMM. Who the devil knows ? — Afk the witch on whofe broomftick you rode. — Hadn't you recei- ved fentence ? ROLLER. Ay truly, — and fomething more. — I was at the foot of the gallows, man! Stay till I get my breath. — Switzer will tell you. — Give me a glafs of brandy! — Are you there, Maurice? — Come back too? — I thought to have met you fome- where elfe. — -Give me a glafs of brandy ! 1 have not one bone flicking to another, — that damn'd rack ! The Captain ! Where's my Captain ? RAZMAN. Have "patience, man, have patience. — Come, tell us, — tell us, — How did you efcape ? — How came you off? I am in a maze! — From the foot of the gallows, did you fay ? . ROLLER. f Drinks off a bumper of brandy. J Ha! tha fmacks; — 't has the right bite; — ftraight from the gallows, boy You Hare at me! — What, you don't believe it ? — I was but three fteps off fron Abraham's bofom — No more. — You would not have given a pinch of fnuff for my life. — 'Twas my Captain ; I thank my Captain for my breath, my liberty, my life 1 SWITZER. THE ROBBERS. 8^ SWITZER. Hah ! 'twas a trick worth the telling. — It was but yefterday w^e got notice by our fpies that Rol- ler lay fnug in pickle * ; and that unlefs the fky fell, or fome fuch accident, before morning, — that's to-day, he would be gone the way of all flefli. — Come, faid the Captain I Shall our friend go fwing, and we do nothing for him — Save him or not, I promife you, I'll light him fuch a pile ; as few have feen the like ! — He gave his orders to the band. — We fent a trulty fellow, who contrived to give Roller notice, by flipping a fcrap of paper into his foup. ROLLER. I* I had no hopes of the thing fucceeding. SWITZER. We watched for the moment when every thing was quiet, — the llreets deferted, — every mortal gone to fee the iight,— horfe, foot, coaches, all pell-mell. — We heard even the noife at the gal- lows, and the pfalm-iinging. — Now, faid the Cap- tain, now's the time ! Set fire I Our fellows dart- ed like a fliot through the whole town,— fet fire F 2 to * Germ. L'le^e tuchtlg im fah%. . 84 THE ROBBERS. to it at once in three and thirty different places ; — they threw burning matches on the powder magazine, — into the churches and the ftore-hou- fes. — 'Sdeath I It was fcarcely a quarter of an hour, — when a brifk gale from the north-eaft, that certainly owed them a fpite, like us, gave us all the help we wifhed, and in a moment the whole was in a whirlwind of fire. — We ran up and down the itreets like furies, crying, Fire I Fire I in every quarter I — Then there was fuch a horrible noife and confufion — The great bells were fet a ring- ing. — The powder magazine blew up. — 'Twas as if heaven, earth, and hell had all gone toge- ther. ROLLER. Then my attendants began to look behind them. — 'Twas like Sodom and Gomorrah; — the whole town in a blaze : — Sulphur, fmoke, and fire : — All the range of hills re-echoed with the exploiions : — The terror was univerfal: — Now was the time : — They had taken off my irons; — fo ve- ry near was it ; — touch and go ; — off I went like an arrow ; — out of fight in a moment, while they flood petrified, like Lot's wife. — Luckily I had but a few paces to run to the river. — I tore off my clothes, jump'd in, and fwam under water, till I thought they had loft fight of me. — Our brave Captain THE ROBBERS, S5 Captain was on t'other fide, with horfes ready, and clothes for me And here, my boys, — here I am I Moor, Moor, my brave fellow, — I wifh only you were in the fame fcrape, that I might help you out of it. RAZMAN. Spoke like a brute ; a beafl that ought to be hang'd— Egad it was a mallerly ilroke I ROLLER. Ay fo it was. — Help at a pinch I — A friend in need is a friend indeed, fay I ; — ^but you can't judge of it No, — unlefs you had the rope about your neck, and were walking all alive to your grave. — Then thofe hellifh preparations,. and eve- ry foot you went, a ftep nearer that curs'd ma- chine, which met you fo full in view, — clear, damnably illuminated by the riling fun * ; — then the executioner and his men fneaking behind you, — and that infernal pfalm-linging, — Zounds, my ears are ringing with it yet ; — and then the croaking of a whole legion of carrion-crows that had been feafting on the precious corruption of my predecefTor, that hung there half-rotted a- way:— But above all, the helhOi joy that thofe F 3 rafcals * The executions in Germany are performed at day-break. $S THE ROBBERS. rafcals exprefled when they faw me coming..— Oh, i fhall never forget it. — No, for all the trea- fures of Croefus, 1 would not undergo that again. ?--Dving I Zounds, 'tis no more than cutting a ca- per :— 'Tis what goes before that's the devil. SPIEGELBERG. And the powder-magazine was blown in the air ? — that accounts for the llink of brimllone we fmelt far and near, as if the devil's wardrobe had been on fire. SWITZER. Damnation I If they made a holiday for the hanging of our poor comrade, why Ihould n't we make a holiday for the burning of their town, — when he was to efcape by it. — Schufterle, can yoii tell how many were killed ? SCHUFTERLE. Eighty-three, they fay ;— the fteeple crufh'd iixty of them to death. MOOR. fl?i a veryferious tone, J Roller, thou wall dear- ly bought. SCHUFTERI.5. THE ROBBERS. 87 SCHUFTERLE. Pah ! pah I what lignifies all that ? — Indeed, if they had been men — but they were babies in leading-firings, mere bantlings — or old Mother Shiptons, their nurfes — and perhaps a few poor a- tomies that had not ftrength to crawl to their doors. — All that had any foul or fpirit in them were at the Ihow. — 'Twas the mere fcum, the dregs, that llaid at home, MOOR. Poor wretches ! the old, the decrepid, and the infants ! SCHUFTERLE. Ay, devil burn 'em I a few lick wretches too — = women in labour, perhaps, or juil at the down- lying. — ^Ha! ha! in pafling one of thofe little bar- racks, I heard fome fqualhng — I peep'd in, and what do you think it was ? a child, a itout httle rogue, that lay on the floor beneath a table, and the flames juil catching it ! — Poor little fellow, faid I, you are fl:arving for cold there — and fo I chuck'd him into the fire I MOOR. Did you fo, Schufterle? May that fire confume you, 88 THE ROBBERS. you, body and foul, to all eternity! — Out of my fight, you moniler! — never be feen in my troop again ! CThe band begin to murmur. J What I you murmur, do ye? — Who dares to murmur, when I command ? — Out of my fight, I fay, Sir I — There are others among you who are ripe for my indig- nation. — Spiegelberg, I know you. — It won't be long ere 1 call over the roll, and I'll make fuch a muller as fhall make you all tremble. [They go out much agitated, MOOR, fAhne, walking backwards and forwards in great agitation, J Hear it not, O God of vengeance I Am I to blane for this ? Art thou to blame, O Father of Heaven ! when the inftruments of thy wrath, the peftiience, flood, and famine, overwhelm at once the righteous and the guilty? Who can com- mand the flames to flay their courfe, to deflroy only the noxious vermin, and fpare the fertile field ? — Poor fool I fhame I haft thou then pre- fumptuoufly dared to wield Jove's thunder, and with thy aimlefs arm to let the Titan 'fcape, while the poor pigmy fuffers. — Go, Have I 'tis not for thee to wield the fword of the Moft High! Behold thy firft eflay! Here then I renounce the rafti de- fign — hence I let me feek fome cavern of the earth THE ROBBERS, 89 earth to hide me — to hide my fhame from the eye pf day I [Is going out. Enter Roller. ROLLER. Take care of yourfelf, Captain — the fplrits are walking — there are feveral troops of Bohemian horfemen patroling all around us — that heUiih Blueihanks mufl have betrayed us. pnter Grimm. GRIMM. Captain, Captain, we are difcovered, track' d — there's a circle drawn in the foreft, and fome thou- fands furrounding us I Enter Spiegelberg. SPIEGELBERG. O Lord I O Lord I O Lord I we are all taken every man of us hang'd, drawn, and quarter'dl — Ten thoufand HuiTars, Dragoons, and Jaghers, have got to the heights above us, and block'd up dl the paffes. [Moor exit. Enter go THE ROBBERS. Enter Switzer, Razman, Schufterle, and other robbers^ from every fide of the fi age, SWITZER. Hal have we unkennel'd them at lad? Give you joy, Roller I — It's long fince I have wifh'd to have a fak tilting-bout with the regulars. — Where is the Captain ? Is all the band alTembled ? Have Vv^e ammunition enough? RAZMAN. Plenty of that — but we're only eighty in all — not one to twenty I SWITZER. So much the better — thofe poor dogs are (hot at for iixpence — we fight for life and liberty — we'll ^ pour down on them like the deluge — give them a volley like thunder I — Where the devil is our Captain ? SPIEGELBERG. He deferts us at this extremity. — Is there no way left for an efcape ,^ SWITZER. Y. I Efcape! coward, beafll may hell choke you for THE ROBBERS. 91 for that word ! You gape there with your Ian- thorn jaws, and when you hear a fliot Zounds, iirrah I fhow your face m the ranks, or you (hall be few'd ahve in afack,and thrown to the dogs I RAZMAN. The Captain ! the Captain I E7iter Moor, with ajlow pace. MOOR. (Apart,) I have let them be completely fur- rounded— they mud fight like defperadoes. Well, my boys, we're tied to the flake — one choice — fight or die I SWITZER. Ha ! We'll rip them up ahve ! Lead us on, Captain, we'll follow you to the gates of hell I MOOR. Load all your mufkets. — Have you powder e- nough ? SWITZER. (Starting up, J Powder enough I ay, to blow the earth up to the moon I RAZMAN. 92 THE ROBBERS. RAZMAN. Each of us has five pair of piflols loaded, and three carabines. MOOR. Well done. — Some of you mull get upon the trees, and others conceal themfelves in the thic- kets, and fire upon them in ambufh. SWITZER. Spiegeiberg, that will be your poft. MOOR. The reft of us will fall like furies on their flanks. SWITZER. ril be one, by heavens ! MOOR. And every man too muft found his whiille, and let fome gallop through the wood, that our num- bers may appear the more terrible. We muft fet loofe all our dogs, and fpirit them to fly at the ranks, and throw them into confufion, that they may run upon our fire. — We three, Roller, Swit- zer, and 1, will fight wherever the main force is. Enter THE ROBBERS. $J Enter a CommilTary. GRIMM. Ha I here comes one of the blood-hounds of juflicel SWITZER. Kill him on the fpot. — Don't let him open his mouth I MOOR. Peace there ! Til hear what he has to fay. COMMISSARY. With your leave, gentlemen. — I have in my perfon the full authority of juftice; and there are eight hundred foldiers here at hand, who watch over every hair of my head. SWITZER. A very perfualive argument to flay our fto- machs. MOOR. Oomrade, be quiet ! Speak, Sir, and be brief. — What are your commands for us ? COMMISSARY. I come, Sir, by authority of that augufl magi- ftratc 9-f THE ROBBERS. flrate who decides upon life and death ; — and I have one word for you, — and two for your band, MOOR. Speak it. (R-iJling upon hisfworclj COMMISSARY. Abominable wretch ! — Are not thofe curfed hands imbrued in the noble blood of a Count of the empire? — ^Haft thou not, with facrilegious arm, broke open the fancluary of the Lord, and impi- ouily carried off the facred veflels? Haft thou not fet fire to our moil upright and fanclified city, and blown up our powder-magazine over the heads of many pious Chriilians ? (Clafping his hands.) A- bomination of abominations I The horrible favour of thy fins has afcended to Heaven, and will bring on the day of judgment before its time, to punifh fuch a wicked — damn'd — infernal monfter I MOOR. A maflerly oration, upon my word ! — but now to the point in hand. — What did the molt au- guft magiftrate pleafe to inform me of by your mouth? COMMISSARY. 1 THE ROBBERS. COMMISSARY. What you never will be worthy to receive. — Look around you, you horrible incendiary, — as far as your eye can reach, you are furrounded by our horfemen. — No efcape for you — You may as foon exped thefe ftunted oaks and pines to bear peach- es and cherries. MOOR. Hear you that, Switzer ? Roller ? — But go on, r. COMMISSARY. Hear then how merciful, how long-fufFering is Juilice to the v/icked. — If this very moment you lay down your arms, and humbly entreat for mer- cy and a mitigation of your punirhment, then Juilice will be like an indulgent mother — flie will fhut her eyes on one half of your horrible crimes — and only condemn you — think well of it, — to be broken alive upon the wheel ! SWITZER. Captain, fhall I cut his throat? ROLLER. Hell, fire, and fury 1 Captain I — How he bites his 96 THE ROBBERS, his lip I Shall I cut down this fellow like a cab- bage ? MOOR. Don't touch him — let none of you dare to lay a finger on him. — Hearkee, Sir ! (To the Commif^ fary, with afolemn tone,) There are here feven- ty-nine of us, and I, their Captain. — Not a man of us has been taught to trot at a fignal, or dance to the mufic of artillery ; and on your fide there are eight hundred difciplined troops, ftaunch and experienced veterans, — Now, hear me. Sir ! hear what Moor fays, the Captain of thefe incendiaries. — It is true 1 have alTaffinated a Count of the em- pire. — It is true I have burnt and plundered the church of the Dominicans. — It is true I have fet fire to your bigotted town, and blown up your powder-magazine. — But I have done more than all that. — Look here, (holding out his right hand J look at thefe four rings of value. — This ruby I drew from the finger of a minifl:er whom I cut down at the chace, at his prince's feet. He had built his fortune on the miferies of his fellows- creatures, and his elevation was mark'd by the tears of the fatherlefs and the widow. — This dia- mond i took from a treafurer-general, who made a traffic of offices of truft, and fold honours, the rewards J THE ROBBERSo 97 rewards of merit, to the higbeft bidder. — This corneban I wear in honour of a prieil whom 1, ftrangled with ?ny own hand, for his mod pious and paffionate lamentation over the fall of the In-, quiiition.— I could expatiate at large, Sir, on the hiftorj of thefe rings, if 1 did not repent already that I have waiteli words on a man unworthy to hear me. COMMISSARY. Is there fo much pride in a vile felon ? MOOR. Stop, Sir. — I (bail now talk with fome pride to you I^ — Go, tell your moil augufl: magiilrate — he that throws the dice on life and death — tell him, I am none of thofe banditti who are in compact with ileep, and with the midnight hour— -I fcale no walls in the dark, and force no bolts to plun- der. — What I have done (liall be engraven in that book where all the adlions of mankind are record- ed — in heaven's eternal regifter : — But with you, poor minifler's of earthly juftice, 1 hold no fur- ther communing.— Tell your mailer, that my trade is ih^ lex talionis ; Like for like: — Venge- ance is my trade I (He turns his back upon him with contempt. J G COMMISSARY. ^8 THE ROBBERS. COMMISSARY. Do you refufe then to hearken to the voice of mercy ? — If that is the cafe, 1 have done with you. (Turns to the hand.) Hear, you fellows, — hear the mouth of jufticel — If you immediately deliver up to me this condemned malefador, you fhall have a full pardon — even the remembrance of your crimes fhall be blotted out— our holy mo- ther Church will open her bofom to receive you, like the ftrayed fheep of the fiock — you Ihall be purified in the v^aters of regeneration, the road of falvation fliall be open to you, and every one of you fliall get — pofts and places I — Here — read with your own eyes — here is a general pardon — figned and fealed — (He gives Switzer a paper with an air of triumph . )—^ €i\, how does your honour like that ? — Come, courage I bind your leader hand and foot — and be free men ! MOOR. Do you hear that, my friends? — hear you that? Why fland you thus in amaze? — What flops you? How can you hefitate ? — You are already prifon- ers, and you have an offer of your liberty — You are already under fentence of death, and you have an offer of your lives — You are promifed honours, places, and emoluments — and what can you gain, even THE ROBBERS. 99 even if you conquer, but execration, infamy, and perfecutipn — You have the grace of heaven of- fer'd to you, and at prefent you are in a Hate of reprobation — Not a hair of your heads but muft blaze in everlailing flames ! — How now, flill in doubt? Is it fo difficult to make a choice between heaven and hell ? — Kelp me to perfuade them, Mr CommifTary. COMMISSARY. What can be that devil's name that fpeaks out of his mouth ? — he makes me all quiver, MOOR. :^ What ! have you no anfwer ? Do you hope to gain your liberty by your fwords ? Look around you — look well, my friends — 'tis impoffible to think fo — 'twere to think like children, if you did. — Perhaps you flatter yourfelf with an honourable death, that you'll fight like men, and die like he- roes — You think fo, becaufe you have ken Moor exult in a fcene of carnage and of horror — O, ne- ver dream it — there's none of you a Moor — you are a fet of miferable thieves — poor inftruments of my great defigns — defpicable as the rope in the hands of the hangman I — No, no — a thief cannot die like a hero — a thief may be allowed to quake at the fight of death. — Hark, how thole trumpets G 2 echo 100 THE ROBBERS. echo through the foreil ! See there, how their fa- bresgleaml WhatI flill irrefolute? Are you mad? — Do you think 1 thank you for my Ufe ? Not at all — I difdain the facrifice you are making I (The found of warlike injlruments is heard, J COMMISSx'VRY. fin njlonijlyment,) This is beyond behef — ne- ver faw any thing hke it — I muil make off I — MOOR. You are afraid, perhaps, that I put myfelf t© death, and that, as the bargain is to dehver me a- Hve, that may break it. — No, my friends, that you have no reafon to fear.— See, there is my dag- ger, my piftols, and, what I have ahvays carried with me, — my poifon \— (Throws thern away. J What I not determined yet ? — But perhaps you think I fhall flruggle when you feize me. — Look here — I tie my right hand to this branch of an oak I — Now I am quite defencelefs — a child might take me. — Now come on ! who will be the firit to betray his Captain ? ^^ ' ROLLER. rWith a frantic geflure.) Ky, if all hell flioulc open THE ROBBERS. lor. " open I Who is the fcoundrel that will betray his ^aptain * ? SWITZER. fTears the pardon in pieces, and throws it in the CommiJfarfsface.J There! Our pardon is at the mouth of our niuikets. — Tell your magiilrate, that you have not found one traitor in all our compa- ny.— Huzza! Save the Captain I Huzza! Save the Captain ! ALL. Save the Captain ! Save him ! Save our noble Captain I MOOR. (Untwijling his hand from the tree, and in a tran- fport of joy. J Now my brave lads — Now we are free indeed.— I have a Vv'hole hoil in this fingie arm.-^Death, or liberty ! We Ihall not leave a man of them alive 1 (They found the charge with great noife, and exeunt fword in hand. J * Germ. Wer hitnd hein ijl retts den Hauptman, He who :s BOt a dog, let him fave his Captain. END OF ACT SECOND. G 3 ACT 102 THE ROBBERS. ACT III. SCENE, A Garden. Amelia, fitting in a penjive attitude. Enter Fr a n- cis, both of them in deep mourning. FRANCIS. VyHAT, Hill here, my little obftinate enthu- fiafl ? You flole away from our entertain- ment. — My guefts were in charming fpirits, but you diflurb'd all our mirth. AMELIA. Shame on fuch mirth I When your father's fu- neral dirge is yet founding in your ears. FRANCIS. What, ftill forrowing ? Will thofe pretty eyes never be dry ? — Come, let the dead fleep in their graves, — and be the joy of the living. — I am juft come-= — - AMELIA. THE ROBBERS. 103 AMELIA. And when do you depart ? FRANCIS. Fy now I Why that haughty, that fevere coun- tenance ? You diftrefs me much, AmeUa. — I come to inform you AMELIA. What' I know akeady, — that Francis de Moor- is now the Lord and mafler. — FRANCIS. Precifely fo. — It was upon that fubjecl I want- ed to talk with you. — Maximihan de Moor is gone to -lleep with his fathers. — I am now the lord of thefe domains, and all that they contain. — Pardon me, Amelia: I wifh to he the lord oi alh — You know that you were properly a part of our fami- ly. — You know, my father regarded you as his own child : — You have not forgot him, Amelia: — - You never will forget him. AMELIA. Never, Sir! — Never! — No banquet, no mirth and revelry, fhall banifli his idea from my mind. FRANCIS. 104 THE ROBBERS. FRANCIS. Pious affedion I Bat what you owed to the fa^ ther, the fon fure now may claini ; — and Charles being dead.— Ha! You are furprifed I overw^helm- edl are you not? Ay truly, fo flattering a thought, a profpecl fo briUiant, and that fo fuddenly pre- fented to your mind, was too much even for w^o- man's pride— That Francis de Moor fliould fpurn the proud ambition of the nobleft famiUes, and of- fer at the feet of a poor orphan, deflitute and help- lefs, his heart, his hand, his wealth, thefe caftles and domams I — He, whom all envy, all fear, de- clare himfelf Amelia's voluntary flave I AMELIA. Why does the thunder fleep — nor cleave thai impious tongue ? — Curs'd w^retch I my Charles'.s murderer! and thou hoped to be the huiband of Amelia ? Thou ! FRANCIS. Lefs heat, my Princefs!^ — Not quite fo high a tone I— Think not you have a lover w ho will bow at a diftance, and ligh, and coo, and woo you like 1^^ a Celadon — No; Francis de Moor has not learnt, like the Arcadian fwains, to breathe his amorous plaints to the caves, and rocks, and echoes.— He foeaks i i THE ROBBERS. IQJ ipeaks ; — and when he is not anfwered — he com- niEoids. — AMELIA. Worm ! Reptile I Thou command I — Com- mand me ? And if I laugh to fcorn your com- mands, what then? FRANCIS. A cloiiler, and imprifonment.— I know how to tame, to break that proud fpirit,-- — - x\MELIA. Ha ! excellent I — Welcome the cloifier and im- prifonment, that hides me from the glances of that bafilifk.— There I lliall be free to think of Charles, to dwell on that dear image.— Away, away I hafle to that bleft abode I FRANCIS. Is it fo then ? — Thanks for that inflruclion.— Now 1 have learnt the art to gall you. — This head, armed like another fury with her fnakes, fliall fright your Charles from your heart. — The horri- ble Francis fliall lurk behind the pidurc of your lover, like the hound of hell. — I will drag you by thofe locks to the altar, and, with my dagger, force ig6 the robbers. force from your quivering heart the nuptial oath. AMELIA. (Strikes h'm.J Take this love-token firfl. FRANCIS. Hah ! tenfold, and twice tenfold, lliall be my vengeance. My wife I No;-— that honour you never (hall enjoy.— You fliall be my wrench, my paramour, — The honeft peafant's wife fhall point at you, — fliall hoot you as you pafs — Ay, grind your teeth 1 — and fcatter fire and murder from thofe eyes. — A woman's fury is my joy, my paf- time ; — 'tis ray heart's delight to fee her thus I — Thefe ftruggles fhall enhance my triumph. — How fweet is enjoyment when thus forced, thus ravifh- ed. — Come to the altar, this initant come. (En^ deavours to force her. J AMELIA. C Throwing herfelf about his neck.) Pardon me, Francis. (When going to take her in his arms, Jhe Mraws out his /word, and Jleps hack a few paces,) See'fl thou now, villain, what I can do ? — I am a woman, — ^but a woman when in fury Dare to come THE ROBBERS. 107 come near me, — and this fleel, my uncle's hand lliall guide it to thy heart. — Fly me this inilant I ( She purfues him out with the /word. J Ah I Now I am at eafe I 1 can breathe again.— .1 felt a ty- ger's rage, — the mettled courfer's firength. — To a cloifter, did he fay ? — -thanks for that bJelTed thought I Love, forlorn and hopelefs love, finds there a kind retreat I— The grave of buried love ! — [Exit. SCENE, The Banks of the Danube, The Robbers Jlationed on a height^ while their horfes are grajing on the declivity behw, MOOR. I mud reft here. CHe throws himfelf on the ground.) My joints are fliook afander ; — my tongue cleaves to my mouth, — dry as a pot (herd. — i would beg offome of you to fetch me a little water in the hollow of your hand from yonder brook, but you are all weary to death. (While he is /peaking, Switzer goes out unperceived, to fetch him fome water. J GRIMrvf. THE ROBBERS. GRIMM. Our wine-cantines are empty long ago. — How j glorious, how majeftic, yonder fetting fun I MOOR. (Lojl in contemplation.) 'Tis thus the hero fallsl — 'tis thus he dies,^-in godlike majellyl GRIMM. The light affeds you, Sir ! MOOR. When 1 was yet a boy, — a mere child,- — it was my favourite thought, — my wifh to live like him I (Fointing to the fun,) Like him to die. (Sup- prejjing his anguifn,) 'Twas an idle thought, a boy's conceit ! GRIMM. It was fo. MOOR. (Fulling his hat over his eyes.) There was v. time. — Leave me, my friends — alone GRIMM. - I Moor ! Moor I 'Sdeath I How his countenance ^ changes ! RAZMAN. 1 TH£ robbers. 109 RAZMAN. Zounds ! what is the matter with him ? — Is he ill? MOOR. There was a time, when I could not go to fleep, if 1 had forgot my prayers I GRIMM. Have you loft your fenfes ? What I yet a fchool- boy I — 'Twere fit indeed fuch thoughts ihould vex you I MOOR. (Rejiing his head on GrhmiUs bofom.J Brother I Brother I GRIMM. Come, come-— be not a child, I beg it of you — MOOR. ^ A child I Oh that I were a child once more ! GRIMM. Fy, fy ! clear up that cloudy brow ! Look yon- der, what a landfkip ! what a lovely evening I MOOR. Ay, my friend I that fcene fo noble !— this world £0 beautiful ! GRIMM. ii5. THE ROBBERS. GRIMM. Why, that's talking like a man, MOOR. This earth fo grand 1 GRTMM. Well faid I— That's what I like I MOOR. And I fo hideous in this world of beauty — and I a monfler on this magnificent earth — the prodi- gal fon I GRIMM. C4ffeclio?iately.J Moor I Moor! MOOR. My innocence ! O my innocence !— See how all nature expands at the fweet breath of fpring. — O God ! that this paradife — this heaven, Ihould be a hell to me I — When ail is happinefs — all in the fweet fpirit of peace — the world one family— -and its Father there above I — who is not my Father I —I alone the outcaft — the prodigal fon I — Of all the children of his mercy, I alone rejecl:ed. (Start- ing back with horror, J The companion of mur- derers THE ROBBERS. ut derers — of viperous fiends— bound down, enchain- ed to guilt and horror 1 RAZMAN. 'Tis inconceivable ! I never faw him thus mov'd before. MOOR. (With great emotion.) Oh I that I could return once more mto the womb that bare me ! that I hung an infant on the bread I that I were born a beggar — the meaneft hind — a peafant of the field ! I would toil till the fweat of blood dropt from my brow, to purchafe the luxury of one found lleep, the rapture of a fingle tear! GRIMM. CTo the reft.) Peace, O peace I — the paroxifai will foon be over. MOOR. There was a time when I could weep w^th eafe. — O days' of bliis I— Manfion of my fathers ! O vales fo green, fo beautiful ! fcenes of my infant years, enjoy 'd by fond enthufiafm ! will you no more re- turn ? no more exhale your fweets to cool this burnmg bofom I— Oh never^ never fliali they re- turn 112 THE ROBBERS. turn — no more rcfrefti this bofom with the breath of peace. They are gone! gone for ever ! Enter Switzer, with water in his hat. SWITZER. Captain, here drink! water frefli and cool a? ice. — GRTMM. What is the matter, Switzer ? — you are bleeds ing. SWITZER. Matter? a mere joke— a trifling accident, that might have coil me only my neck and a couple of legs I was going trotting along a fleep bank of the river on the brow of yonder declivity — 'Tis all fand, you know — Plump, in a moment, down goes the bank under my feet, and I made a clever tumble of ten good Rhenifh yards at the leaft — there 1 lay for a while like a log, and when I came to my fenfes, I found myfelf fafe on the gravel, and fine frefli v^^aterjuftat my hand. — Pohl not a bad caper, faid 1, fince I've got my Captain a drink by it I MOOR. CGives back the hat to Switzer. and wipes his face.) I THE ROBBERS. 113 face,) Why, you're all fo befmeared, one can't fee the cuts you got from the Bohemian dragoons. — Your water was very good, Switzer, — Thefe cuts become you, man I SWITZER. Poh! There's room enough for twenty more of 'em. MOOR. Ay, my boys — it was a hot day's work — and pnly one friend loft. — Poor Roller I he had a glo- rious death I If he had died in any caufebut ours, he'd had a marble monument ! — Let this fuffice — this tear from a man's cheek I (He wipes his eyes. J Do you remember how many of our enemies were left dead on the field ! SWITZER. Sixty HulTars — ninety-three dragoons, and a- bout fprty light horfe — in all, two hundred ! MOOR. Two hundred for one man I Every one of you has his claims upon this head. (He takes off his hat. J Here I lift this poniard — fo may my foul find life or death eternal, as I keep faith with you! H SWITZER. 114 THE ROBBERS. SWITZER. Don't fwear ! you don't know, if good fortune Ihould once more fmiie upon you, but repent- ance MOOR. No ! by the ghofl of Roller I I never will for- fake you ! Enter Kozinlki. KOZINSKI. They told me I fhould find him fome where hereabout.— Ha I halloa I — What faces are thefe? J — Should they be — if thefe were the men — yes, they are — I'll fpeak to them. GRIMM. Have a care ! Who goes there ? KOZINSKI. Gentlemen, excufe me — I don't know if I am right or not. ^ MOOR. Suppofe right. — Whom do you take us for? KOZINSKI. for m^en ! SWlTZER. THE ROBBERS. 115 SWITZER. Have we fhown ourfelves to be fo, Captain ? KOZINSKI. I feek for men who can look death in the face —who can play with danger as with a tamed fnake — who prize liberty above life and fame — whofe names fpeak comfort to the opprefs'd, who can appal the bold, and make the tyrant fliudder! SWITZER. (T!o the Captain.) I like this fellow Hear me, good friend I you have found the men you ^ant.* « '*" '' KOZINSKI. I think fo, — and hope I fhall be anon their fel- low. — You can point me out the maril look for, -^'tis your Captain, the great Count de Moor. SWITZER. C Gives bi?n bis hand cordially.) We are bro- [thers, my boy! I MOOR. I Would you know this Captain ? H 2 KOZINSKI. n6 fHE ROBBERS, KOZINSKI. Thou art he I — in thofe features — that air. — Who could look at you, and not difcover it ?— - (Looking earnejlly at him for a long time.) It has been long my wifh to fee that man, whofe coun- tenance fpoke terrors, — whofe eye could not be borne ^ — \was he who fat on the ruins of Car- thage.-— Now my wiih is fatisfied ! i SWITZER. A line mettled fellow I MOOR. And w^ho fent you to me ? KOZINSKI, O Captain I — Fate, the cruellefl fate ! — 1 have been fhipwreck'd on the ftorray ocean of the world.— 1 have feen my fondefl hopes evaporate in air, — and nought remain but the bitter recol- ledion of difappointment ; — a recolledion that would drive me to madnefs, if I fought not to drown it, in feeding this relllefs, this impetuous fpirit with new objeds of purfuit. MOOR. Here is another of heaven's outcafls. — Goon. KOZINSKI, THE ROBBEiRS. i\f KOZiNS-KI. . I have been a foldier, and in that (tation unfor- tunate: — I embark'd for the Indies; — my vellel went to pieces in a il:orm ; — all my projedts fail- ed : — At laft, 1 heard of the fame of your great exploits, — alTaflinations, as they term them; — and I have made a jourhey of forty miles in the firm refolution of offering you my fervices, if you deign to accept of them. — I intreat you, noble Captain, refufe not my requeft. SWITZER. (Leaping with joy.) Huzza boys I Roller a- gain, a thoufand times over I A noble fellow for our troop ! MOORo What is your name ? KOZINSKI, Kozinfki. MOOR. What ! Kozinfki ? Let me tell you, you are a light-headed young fellow, and that you are rea- dy to take the moft decifive flep in life with no more conlideration than a thoughtlefs girl. Here -here's no game at bowls, no tennis-play, as you fnay perhaps imagine. H 3 .KOZINSKI.. Ti8 THE ROBBERS, . KOZINSKI, I underftand you, Sir — But you miftake me. Tis true — 1 am but four-and-twenty — but I have feen the clafhing of fwords, and heard the balls whiftle before now. MOOR. Have you fo, young mailer? And have you learn'd the ufe of arms for no other purpofe than to kill a poor traveller for a few dollars, or knock •down women behind their backs? Go, go, you have run away from your nurfe, child, who has threaten'd to whip you. SWITZER. What the devil, Captain ! What do you mean ? Would you difmiis this Hercules, this glorious fellow, whofe very look would fcare Julius Caefar into a coal-hole ? MOOR. And fo when your wrong-headed fchemes mil gave, you thought you would go feek for an ai failin. — You would become an alTaffin yourfelf.- 'Sdeath, young n"jan. Do you know what thi word means? You may perhaps lleep found,' aft e'l beheading THE ROBBERS. 119 beheading a few poppies — but to carry a murder oil your foul KOZINSKI. I'll anfwer for all the murders that; you (liali give me in charge. MOOR. What ! are you fo clever, then — would you take one in by cajoling fpeech ? — How know you whether I may n't have my bad dreams — whe- ther I fha'nt flinch when 1 come to my death- bed? — How many things have you done, for which you thought you had to anfwer on account? KOZINSKI. Why, truly not much, except this lad journey to you, my Noble Count. MOOR. Has your tutor been amuling you with the hif- tory of Robin Hood ? — Such fenfeleis fcoundrels fiiould be fent to the galleys.— -x\nd thus you have heated your childilh imagination with the conceit of being a great man. — Do you thirfl for fame ? for honour ? Would you buy immortality by i2o' THE ROBBERS. by murders? Mark me well, young man! no lau- rel fprings for the aiTaffin— no triumph waits the victories of the robber — but curfes, dangers, death, difgrace !— Seefl thou yon gibbet on the fide of the hill? SPIEGELBERG. C Walking about in a huff,) What an afs ! block- head ; abominable, ftupid afs ! Is that the way ? I would have fet about it in another manner. KOZINSKI. What fhall he fear, who does not fear death? MOOR. Bravo I wellfaidi you have been a clever youth at fchool — you have got your Seneca by heart moil perfedly. — But, my good friend, with thofe fine fentences you will not lull to lleep the fuffer- ings of nature — they will avail you nought againft the Iharp tooth of anguifh.— Think well, young man, (he takes him by the hand, J think on the Itep you are going to take— I advife you as a parent ' — found firfl the depth of the precipice, before you dare to leap it. — If in this world you can yet catch a fingle glimpfe of joy — there may be mo- ments THE ROBBERS. 121 mepts when you would awake — and then — it were too late. — Here thou withdraw'fl th}'fclfat once from the circle of humanity. — Man thuu muft be, or devil — Once more then, my fon, let me intreat — if one fpark of hope lurks in your bo- fom, fly this dreadful alTociation. — You may de- ceive yourfelf, impofe on your own mind — and take perhaps for fire, for fpirit, what in reality is defpair Take my counfel — retreat — fly, while it is yet time. KOZINSKI. No ! never will I fly. — If you refufe my en- treaty, hear at leafl; the real fl:ory of my misfor- tunes. — Yourfelf will then put a dagger into my hand — you will. — But fit down here a moment, and liflien to me with attention. MOOR. I'll hear you. KOZINSKI. Know, then, I am a gentleman of Bohemia. — By the fudden death of my father, I became maf- ter of a confiderable eftate. — In the neighbour- hood — a paradife to me, there dwelt an angel — a young lady, beautiful beyond expreflion-r-and chafle 122 THE ROBBERS. chafle as the light of heaven. — But why fpeak thus to you, who cannot comprehend me — You never loved ! you never were beiov'd I SWITZER. Softly, foftly I — How our Captain reddens I MOOR. Have done ! — FlI hear you another time — ■ to-morrow — another time — when I have feen blood I— KOZINSKI. Blood, blood ! — Only hear me. Sir ! your foul fnall be fatiated with blood. -She was of ple- beian birth, a German — but fuch her air and look as to difpel thofe mean prejudices. — With fweet referve, and the moil amiable modefly, flie had accepted a ring from my hand, as a pledge of the iincerity of my vows, and the next day I was to have led my Amelia to the altar I — fMocr rifes lip. J Vv^hile in this ftate of rapturous blifs, and and in the midft of the preparations for our nup- tials, I was called to court by an exprefs order. — < I went — They produced letters to me of the moit treafonable nature, which it was alledged I had written I blufhed at the bafe imputation. — My fword' was inftantly taken from me, and I was hurried THE ROBBERS. 323 hurried to a dungeon, where for fome time rcy fenfcs entirely fcrfook me. SWITZER. And notwithflanding — Well, go on.— I fee what muft follow *. KOZINSKI. Here I remained a tedious, month, and knew not the extent of my misfortune. — 1 fufFered the moll extreme anxiety for my Amelia, to whom I knew that my imprifonment would give the deep- eft afflidion. — At length 1 had a vilit from the firfl miniiter, who was pleafed to congratulate me on the full proof of my innocence, and, with vm- ny flattering compliments, he read me the war- rant for my releafe, and gave me back my fword. I flew in triumph to my country-feat, to tlafp my lov'd Ameha in my arms— She was gone — flic had been carried off in the middle of the night, and none could tell where — no creature bad feen, or could give any account of her. — This was a thunderftroke—l flew to town — made inquiry at court — Every body's eyes were fixed upon me — bat * Germ. Ich r'eche den Iraicn fdon. I fniell the roafl a!- ready. 124 THE ROBBERS. but none could give me the leaft intelligence.™ At laft, through a grated window of the palace, I difcovered my Amelia — Ihe contrived to throw me a letter SWITZER. Did n't I fay fo ? KOZINSKt. Death and fire I Thus flood the cafe— 'Twas given her in choice, either to fee her lover die, or to become the Prince's miilrefs. — She decided the conteil between love and honour, (fmiling), — \>j faving me I I SWITZER. ^ Well — what did you do then ? KOZINSKI. I I remained fix'd to the fpot, as if I had been llruck with lightning. — Blood was my firit thought! blood my lail I — I foam'd at the mouth, like a ty- ger — feizing a three- edged fword, I ran furioufly to the palace of the minifter — he had been the infamous pander. — They had perceived me while in the flreet : for, when I got in, 1 found all the apartments THE ROBBERS. 125 apartments locked.-— In anfvver to my eager en- quiries, I was told he was gone to wait on the Prince. — Thither I flew direftly — he was not to be found. — I return'd once more to his houfe, forc'd open the door of his apartment, and there found the bafe wretch — but at the very moment live or llx of his domeftics befet me at once, and took my fword from me. swrrzER. (Stamps with bis feet, J And was nothing done '0 the wretch ? — no vengeance ? — KOZINSKI. I was immediately thrown in irons — brought to trial — condemn'd — and mark me now — by a lin- gular exertion of lenity — baniili'd as a malefaclor from the Prince's dominions for ever — my whole fortune confifcated to the minider. — Amelia, ooor Amelia, remains as a lamb within the tyger's grafp, — and I mud bend fubmiffive to the yoke of def- potifm SWITZER. fRifeSf and u'bets his fword. J Captain I this is fomcthing 126 THE ROBBERS. foinething to work upon — this miift fet us ago- ing *> — — .' MOOR. ClVbo had been walking about in great agitation, flops all at once.) 1 mult fee her once more — come along — rife there. — KozmfK.!, thou remain'ft with us. — Quick — prepare to fet out this moment 1 — — THE IIOBBERS. Where ? — ^What now ? MOOR, Where ! — Who is it that afks where ? f 7b Switzer.J Traitor, I know you want to keep m,e back.—But, by the hope of heaven I if — -— j SWITZER* Traitor I I a traitor ? — Lead on to hell, and I'll follow you I — — MOOR. fFalls on his neck. J Yes, brother I 1 know you * Germ. Das ijl ivaffer am unfere muhk. This Is water to our mills. THE ROBBERS. 127 you will She fufFers in anguifli and defpair — that is enough — Come, my brave boys ! — Courage. To Franconia we go I — there we muft be within eight days. [Exeunt' xmB OF ACT th;b.d= I2S THE ROBBERS. ACT IV. SCENE, A Gallery in the Caftle of Moor. Charles de Moor in difguife, under the name of Count de Braund, and Amelia looking at a picture in the apartment., — the habit of a nun lying on the table ^ 1 MOOR. (With emotion,) He was a moft excellent man I .' AMELIA. You appear, Sir, to t^ke a great interefl in that pidure. MOOR, (Still holing earneflly at the piEiure.) A moft excellent — a moft worthy man I — And is he now ,^ no more ? AMELIA. Dra^n M' I Fouhr Enfraiid (y-R.. Co-It. ^?r/t/r/f .j/zsr/'/r.' .^ rf?/ ./^//zer ^j^?€ri Robbers. Art IV: THE ROBBERS. J29 AMELIA. No more. — Thus every joy of life mud vanifh. (Takes his hand affedlionately.J Count I All fub- lunary blifs is vain ! MOOR. 'Tis even fo! mofl true I Can you have proved that truth already ? — you, who fcarcely yet have feen your twentieth year ? AMELIA. Yes, I have proved it! — We are called into life, only to die in forrow We gain a little, that we may lofe it with tears; — we engage our hearts- only that thofe hearts may break ! — MOOR. What I have you already loft fo much ? AMELIA. Nothing I — all I — nothing ! MOOR* And would you learn forgetfulnefs in that holy garb that lies there ? t AMELTAa 130 THE ROBBERS. AMELIA, To-morrow I hope to do fo. Shall we con- tinue our walk, Sir? MOOR. So foon ? Whofe pidure is that on the right hand ? Ke has, methinks, a countenance that be- fpeaks misfortune. AINIELIA. The pidlure on the left is the Count's fon — he wlio is now mailer here. MOOR. His only fon ? AMELIA. Come, come away MOOR. But whofe is that picture on \hQright hand? AMELIA. Won't you walk into the garden ? Come— MOOR. But that pidure on the right hand ? — You are in tears, Amelia? (Amelia goes out with precipitation, J MOOR THE ROBBERS. MOOR alone. 131 She loves me ! loves me Hill I — Her tears betray her I Yes, fhe loves me ! Oh heavens ! Is that the couch on which we fo oft have fat — where I have hung in rapture on her neck ? Are thefe my father's halls ? — O days of blifs for ever palt ! — for ever 1 Ah I How the dear remem- brance of thofe days fhoots through my foul, like the firft burft of fpring! — O wretch ! here fhould have been my happy relidence — here fnouldft thou have pafs'd thy days — honoured, refpeded, loved — here fhouldft thou have feen the years of thy blefl infancy revive in the blooming offspring of thy Amelia — here received the willing homage of thy happy dependants. — No morel — I mufl return — return to mifery ! — Farewel, dear man- iion I my father's houfe I — fcenes that have {^Q.n me in my years of childhood, when my free bo- fom beat with rapture — that have feen me this day miferable — in defpair I (Walks towards the door, and then fuddeidy flops. J Shall I never be- hold her more ? — not for a laft adieu! — no more kifs thofe dear lips ! — Yes, I will fee her once more — once more enfold her in my arms — were [ to die for it. — I muil have one greedy draught Df the poifon of dehght — and then I go as far as 3cean — and defpair fhall bear me I [Exit, 1 2 SCENE, 133 THE robbers; SCENE, A Chamber in the Cajlle. FRANCIS DE MOOR. (In a deep reverie.) Begone, thou horrible i- mage! begone ! — What a coward I am I — What art thou afraid of? — Whom? — Does not this Count, this ftranger, feem a fpy of hell, to dog me at the heels ? — Methinks I fhould know him. — There is fomething great — fomething, methinks^ that I have feen before — in thofe wild and fun- burnt features : — Something that makes me trem- ble I (He "walks about for fome time, and then rings the belLJ Who's there ? Francis, take care ! — fomething lurks there for thy perdition ! Enter DanieL DANIEL. What are your commands, Sir? FRANCIS. ( Looking Jledfajlly at hvmfor a conjlderahk time.j Nothing. — Begone I Fill me fome wine there — but quick, [£a:/V DanieL FRANti? THE ROBBERS. 133 FRANCIS. No matter — the rafcal will confefs all, if I put him to the torture. — I'll penetrate him with a look fo dreadful, that his confcience Ihall betray him. (Hejlops before a portrait of Charles^ and examines it.) That long crane's neck ! — thofe dark, low- ering eye-bro si — that eye that ihoots fire I {Shud^ 4ering,) All-blafling hell! is it thy prefenti- jnent ? — 'Tis he I it mufl be Charles himfelf I Enter Daniel, with a cup of wine. Put it down there. — Look at me — fledfaflly I — What, your knees are Ihaking I — you tremble I confefs, Sir I — What have you done ? DANIEL. Nothing — as I hope for mercy! FRANCIS. Drink off that wine What,-.do you hefitate? Speak I — quick ! — What have you put in that wine ? DANIEL. So help me, God ! — nothing ! I 3 FRANCIS. 134 THE ROBBERS. FRANCIS. You have put poifon in the wine I — Are you not as pale as afhes ? — Confefs, wretch, confefs ! — Who gave it you ? — ^Was it not the Count — = the count who gave it you ? DANIEL. The Count! Almighty God'! the Count has given me nothing ! FRANCIS. (Takifig holdqfJmn.J I'll gripe you black in the face, liar I old hoary traitor I N othing ? — Why then were you fo often together ? — you and he- — and Amelia? — Vv^hat were you whifpering of ?-— Have I not feen her bold, her (hamelefs glances at him? flie who affeded fuch a model! air I — Did 1 not obferve her, when by Health (he dropp'd a tear into his wine— -and how he fwallowed it with fuch avidity ! — I perceived it — in the glafs I faw it— with theie eyes 1 faw it, DANIEL. God knows ! I know not a lingle fy liable of all that» FRANCIS, THE ROBBERS. 135 FRANCIS. Will you deny it? — give me the lie to my face ? What plots, what machinations, have you devifed to get rid of me ? — To fmother me in my fleep ? to cut my throat ? — to poifon me in my drink drug my meals ? Confefs it, wretch I — con- fefs it this inltant ! — I know it all, DA MEL. As the living God fhall fave me — nothing have I faid but the truth ! FRANCIS. Well then I — This once I forgive you But I know he has given you money Did not he fqueeze your hand? — Yes, harder than ufual — like an old acquaintance ? — — DANIEL. Never, indeed, Sir I FRANCIS. For example— didn't he fay that he knew you well— that perhaps you might know him— that one day you might difcover. — How? didn't he fay fomsthing of that kind ? DANIEL. 1^6 THE ROBBERS. DANIEL. Not a word of it, Sir. FRANCIS. That he would be revenged? — ^horribly re- venged ? DANIEL. Not a fy liable ! FRANCIS. What ! Not a fyllable ?— Recollea yourfelf.-^ Have you forgot that he faid he knew your late mailer well — very particularly well — that he lo- ved him much — ^loved him as a fon loves a fa- ther ?— DANIEL, I do remember — I think I heard him fay fome- thing of that kind. FRANCIS. CAlarm'd,) Did he fay it ? — fay thofe words ? »— did he fay he was my brother ? — DANIEL, THE ROBBERS. 337 DANIEL. No, he did not fay that. — Bat when Mifs A- meha was walking with him in the gallery — i was liilening at the door — he ftopp'd before my late mailers pidure, as if he had been thunderilruck r. — and Mifs Amelia pointed to the picture, and faid, He was an excellent man Yes, faid he, *' moil excellent ;" and he wiped his eyes wheu he faid it. FRANCIS. Go I quick! Call Herman hither I [Exit Daniel. 'Tis clear as day!—- 'Tis Charles! — He will now come, and imperiouily afic — Where is my inheritance ? -And is it for this that 1 have loll my ileep — moved heaven and earth for this ! ili- fled the cries of nature in my breail — and now, when the reward fliould come — this vagabond, this beggar, ileps between, and with his horrid hand tears all this fine-fpun web. — Softly — 'Tis but a ilep — aneafy one — a httle murder!— None but a driveller would leave his work imperfccT: — or idly look on till time fhould finiih it. J^Mter Herman, FRANCIS- 138 THE ROBBERS. FRANCIS. Ha I Welcome, my Eurypylus — my prompt, my adlive inflrument I HERMAN. C Abruptly, and with ritdenefs.J What did you want with me, Count ^* FRANCIS. That you fhould give the finiihing flroke to your work — put the feal to it HERMAN. Really? | FRANCIS. Give the pidure the laft touch. HERMAN. Poh ! ■ FRANCIS. Shall I call the carriage I we'll talk over that at our airing ? HERMAN. Lefs Ceremony, Sir, if you pleafe. — All the bu- linels THE ROBBERS. 139 finefs that you and I have to fettle to-day, may be done within the four walls of this apurtdient. — Meantime, a word or two with you by way of pre- face, which may perhaps fave your breath in our after-communing. FRANCIS, (Refervedly.) Hm ! And what may thofe words be ? HKRMAN. (With a malignant tone of irony. J " Thou flialt *' have Ameha, 1 fay — and from my hand." IRANCIS. {With ajlonifhment.) Herman ! HERMAN, (In the fame tone of irony ^ and turning his hack upon him.) '' Amelia has loft every fupport, and *' is the play-thing of my will. — Then you may " eafily guefs what follows — in fhort all goes to a " wi(h." (With an indignant laugh, and then haugh- tily to Francis.) Now, Count de Moor, what have you to fay to me ? FRANCIS. (Evafively.) To you ? nothing — ^I had fome- hing to fay to Herman. HERMAN. I40 THE ROBBERS. HERMAN. A truce with fhufHing — Why was I fent for hi- ther? — Was it to be a fecond time your fool? To hold the ladder for a thief to mount — to fell my foul, to catch a hangman's fee ? What elie did you want with me ? FRANCIS. Ha! by the way, fas ifrecolledling.J we mufl not forget the main point — Did not my valet de chambre mention it to you — I wanted to talk with you about the dowry ? . HERMAN.' Sir, this is bantering — or worfe. — Moor, take care of yourfelf — beware how you kindle my fu- ry. — Moor, we are here alone — my name is at ilake againft yours. — Truft not the devil, though you have railed him yourfelf, FRANCIS. (AffeEling a haughty air. J Is it thus, Sir, you fpeak to your mailer? — Tremble, Have I HERMAN. (Ironically.) For fear of loling your favour ? a mighty lofs — to one who is at war with himfelf — Moor, THE ROBBERS. 141 Moor, I abhor you for a villain — don't make me laugh at you for a fool too— I can open tombs ! and raife the dead to life 1 — Which of us two is ?2Qw the Have ? FRANCIS. (Sinoothly.J Come, my good friend, be politic — {how yourfelf a man of fenfe — don't be falfe to your word HERMAN. To detefl a wretch like you is the bed policy to keep faith wdth you would be an utter want of fenfe. — Faith with whom ? wdth the father of hes — the arch-impoftor I — Oh I fuch faith makes me fhudderl — Treafon is virtue here — and perfidy a faint-like quality. — But ftay a little — patience I — vengeance is cunning. FRANCIS. Oh I by the by — what a fool I was to forget I Didn't you lofe a purfe lately m this room? a hun-' dred louis wasn't it ? Hah ! 1 had almoil forgot that. — Here, my good • friend, take what's your own. (Offers him apurfi.J HERMAN. (Throws it from him with contempt. J Curfe on your Judas bribe— the earneft of damnation I — You 1^2 THE ROBBERS. You thought to make riiy poverty a pander to my confcience ! — But there you are foil'd, Sir, thrown out entirely. — Another purfe of gold you know of may help to maintain certain folks — to furniih fuftenance for FRANCIS. fWith a countenance exprejfive of fear. J Her- man, Herman ! don't make me think you a trai- tor. — Were you to make any other ufe of that money than you ought to do — ^you were the vileft of traitors. HEPJVIAN. C Triumphantly. J Ay truly I fay you fo ? then know, Count Moor — 1 will enhance your fhame — double your mefs of infamy — I will prepare a ban- quet for you, where the whole world fliall be the guefls I — You underiland me now, Sir — my moft revered, mofl gracious mailer I FRANCIS. C^ite difconcerted.J Ha! devil! Curft im- poflor I f Striking his forehead, J Beaft that 1 was, to flake my fortune on a fool's caprice ! 'Twas brutifti I HERMAN, THE ROBBERS, 143 HERMAN, Whew! O 'twas fhrewd— 'twas cunning! FRANCIS. CBiting his lip,) Moll true — and ever will be true — there is no thread fo feebly fpan, as that which weaves the bands of guilt I HERMAN. Ha ! what now ? are angels now degraded, and the devils turn'd moraUfls ? FRANCIS. (Starts off abruptly, and with a malignant fmile.) And certain folks will have much honour to be fure in their conducl. HERMAN. (Clapping his hands.) Bravo! inimitable — You play your part to admiration — You draw the poor fool into the fnare — then wo be on his head, if he attempts to efcape — O cunning fiend! — And yet, (Clapping him on the Jhoulder.) Sir Count ! You have not got your leffon yet quite perfect. — By heavens, you muit fir ft know how far the lo- fing gamefler will venture. — Set fire to the pow- der-room, fays the pirate, and blow all to hell — both friend and foe ! FRANCIS, f44 THE ROBBERS. FRANCIS. (Goes to take down ap'iflQlfrom the wall,) Here's treafon — deliberate — . HERMAN. fJDraws out a large piftol from his pocket, and takes aim,) Don't give yourfelf fo much trouble — One's prepared for all events with you. FRANCIS. ( Lets fall his pijloly and throws hhnfelfhack in a chair in great corfifhn.) Keep my fecret— at leaft till — !■ — coUecL my thoughts. HERMAN. Yes—till you have hired a dozen aflaflins to feal my mouth for ever. — But heark'ee, (in his ear,) the fecret is contained in a certain paper—- which my heirs Vv^ill open. \Exit, FP.ANCI3. (Alone.) What was that, Francis? Where w^as your courage ? Your prefence of mind, that us'd to be fo prompt ? — Betray'd by my own inflru- mentsl — The props of my good luck begin to tot- ter THE RO.BBERS. 145 ter — the mound is broken — and all will fpeedily give way to the enemy. — Now for a quick refolve — But how ? but what ? If I durft but do it — to come behind and flab him I Durft ! a wound- ed man's a child — I'll do it. (^Stalks backwards and forwards, and then flops as ifhejitating from fear.) Who's that behind me ? (Rolling his eyes.) What figures are thefe — what founds — Nothing. — I think 1 have courage— courage ! yes— But if my fhadow fhould difcover me while I ftruck him — or a glafs — or the whizzing of my arm. Ugh I — How my hair briftlesl — (He lets fall a poniard from under his clothes.)— -'No, I am no coward — tender- hearted only — yes, that is it. — ^Thefe are virtue's ftruggles — I honour this feeling — To kill my bro- ther with my own hand 1 No, that were mon- llrous ! No, no, no : — Let me cherifh this veftige of humanity — I will not murder— Nature, thou haft conquer'd— There's fomething here that feels like — tendernefs — Yes, he fhall live. [Exit. K SCENE, 146 THE ROBBERS. SCENE, A Garden. Amelia alone, Jilting in an arbour^ where fever al covered walks are fee n to centre, AMELIA. " You are in tears, Amelia !" — Thefe were his words — and fpoken with that expreflion Oh it fummoned up a thoufand dear remembrances^ — fcenes of pafl delight — as in my days of happinefs my golden fpring of love Hark I — 'tis the night- ingale I O fuch was thy fong, fweet bird, in thofe bleft days — fo bloom'd the flowers — and then 1 lay enraptured on his neck Sure, if thefpirits of the dead hover around the living, this ilranger is the angel of my Charles O falfe and faithlefs heart! and doit thou feek thus artfully to veil thy perfi- dy r — No, no — begone for ever from this breaft, the weak, the impious wifh. — Here, in this heart, where Charles lies buried, fhall never human be- ing fill his place And yet this fliranger, this un- known — 'tis wonderful my thoughts ihould dwell thus fl:rong, thus confiantly upon him — as 'twere my Charles's piclure— his features feem to melt into the very image— of my only love I " You " are THE ROBBERS. 147 *' are in tears, Amelia !" Hal let me fly! — To- morrow I am a faint — f-^lf^^ ^^P-J -^ ^^i^t ! Poor heart I O what a word was that ? — how fweet to this ear was once that word — but now — now — O heart, thou haft betrayed me. I believed thee vanquifli'd, and thought it fortitude — alas ! 'twas but defpair I (She Jits down in the arbour, and co- vers her face with her hands, J Enter Hermanyro/w one of the covered walks, HERMAN* (To himfelf.) Now let the tempeft rage, though it fliould fink me to the bottom*! (Sees Amelia.) Mifs Ameha, Mifs AmeUa ! Amelia. Ha ! a fpy ! What feek you here ? HERMAN. I bring you news fweet, pleafant — horrible news. — If you are difpofed to forgive, you Ihall hear wonders. * Germ. Und foUt er mir auch bis an die gurgel fchwellen. Though it fhould fwell up to rhy throat, K 2 AMELIA* 148 THE ROBBERS. AMELIA. I have nothing to forgive. — Let me be fpared yoar news. HERMAN. Do you not mourn a lover ? AMELIA. (Meafuring him with a long look.) Child of ill- luck, what right have you to aik that queition i^ HERMAN.' The right of hate — of love AMELIA. Can there be love beneath a garb like that ? HERMAN. Ay, even to make a man — a villain 1 — Had you not an uncle who died lately? AMELIA. (With tendernefs.J A father ! HERMAN. They are alive I C^^^^ '^'^i^ precipitation. J AMELIA, THE ROBBERS. 149 AMELIA. My Charles alive! (^Running out half frantic, after Herman, Jhe meets Charles de Moor, who is entering by one of the walks. J MOOR. Whither do you run, my child — thus wild, thus frantic ? AMELIA. Earth fwallow me up I That man I MOOR. I came to bid you adieu. — But, oh heavens ! — to meet you thus ! AMELIA. Go, Count ! Farewel !— Yet flay— how happy had I been had you not come at this moment ! O had you never come ! MOOR. You had been happy then? Farewel for everl (Is going out.) K 3 AMELIA, t$0 THE ROBBERS. AMELIA. Stay— for heaven's fake, flay I — I meant not fo — O God, why did 1 not mean fo ? — ^Tell me, Count — what have I done that makes me feem thus guilty to myfelf ? MOOR. Thofe words are death to me ! AMELIA. My heart was fo pure before my eyes beheld you But now- — oh were they fhutfor ever- — they have corrupted, poifoned all my heart 1 MOOR, \ On me, me only be the curfe : — thy eyes, thy heart, are guiltlefs, pure as angels Amelia; There was his look I quite him I — O Count, I entreat' — turn not on me thofe looks.- — O fpare me I fpare me thofe looks, that flir rebellion in my breaft.=— O traitor Fancy, that paint'it him to my mind in every glance.— Begone, Sir— or take a crocodile's fqul form, and you will pleafe me more« THE ROBBERS. MOOR, '5^ CWith a look exprejjtve of the viojl pajfionate affec^ Hon. J Young woman, that is falfe I AMELIA. fTenderly.J And if you fhould be faithlefs ; if you fhould feek to ruin, to betray this weak, this woman's heart.— But how can falfehood dwell in eyes that look like his — that feem his own reflect- ed ? — And yet, O better it were fo — and thou wert falfe, that I might hate thee/. And yet more wretched flill, fhould I not love thee I fMoor prejfes her hand to his lips with ardour. J Thy kilTes burn like fire, MOORe 'Tis my foul that burns in them! AMELIA. Go ! leave me — while it is not too late. — There " is fortitude in a man's bofom. — Show that thou haft that ftrength of mind, and fhare it with me ! MOOR. Can he fhow fortitude who fees thee tremble? — No, here 1 fix me faft. (Embraces her, and lays his head on her bofom. J Here I will die I AMELIA, 151 THE ROBBERS. AMELIA. fin great confujion.) Away ! leave me I What have yoii done.? Away with thofe hps. (Shejtrug^ gles with a faint endeavour. J An impious fire burns in my veins. (Tenderly, and drown' d in tears.) And didil thou come from the uttermoft verge of earth to extinguifh in this heart its holy flame — that love which had defied even death ? (She prejfes him clofer to her bofom. ) God forgive you, young man! MOOR. (In Amelia's arms. J Oh, if to die — to part the foul and body, be thus fweet — 'tis heaven to die* I AMELIA. (With rapturous tendernefs.J There where thou art, has he been a thoufand times — and I, when thus 1 held him, forgot tuere was a heaven or earth.^ — Here his delighted eye rang'd over Na- ture's beauties, and felt her power with rapture. Here with enthufxalm he faw, he owned the all- pervading energy of the univerfal Parent; and his noble countenance, illuminated with the great idea, acquired, methought, new beauty. — Here heard * Germ. So ifijlerlen das weijlerjiuck des lebens. To die \\ 'he mafterpiece of exiftence. THE ROBBERS. 153 heard the nightingale his voice — more heavenly than h^r own. — Here from this rofe-tree he pull'd freih rofes — for me. — 'Twas here, oh here, he held me to his heart— and prefs'd his burning lips to mine. (T^hey give way to their emotions without controul, and mingle their kijfes.j O Charles I now llrike me dead 1 My vows are broken I MOOR. (Tearing himfeJffrom her, as if in frenzy J) Can this be hell that iiiares me ? (Gazing on her,) — I am happy I A]VJELIx\. (Perceiving the ring upon her finger.) Art thou there, — on that guilty hand? — Witnefs of my per- jury — Away with thee I (She pulls the ring from her finger, ajid gi'Ves it to Moor.) Take it, too dear feducer I and with it what I hold moll facre4 — Oh, take my all — my Charles ! (She falls back up- on the feat.) MOOR. (Turns pale.) O thou Moll High! Was 'this thy almighty will ? It is the ring 1 gave her — pledge of our mutual faith Hell, be the grave of love I She gave me back my ring I AMELIA. i?4'. THE ROBBERS* AMELIA. {Terrified^ Heavens I What is the matter™ Your eyes roll wildly — and your hps are deadly pale I— O wretch I and is the pleafure of thy crime fo Hiort ? MOOR. (Commanding himfelf.') Nothing — 'tis nothing, (TJjrowing up his eyes to heaven.) I am ftill a man. (He takes off his own ring, and puts it on Amelia^ s finger.') Take this I delightful fiqnd ! And with it what I hold moll facred, take my all, my E- mily ! AMELIA. (Starting up,) Your Emily ! MOOR. O llie was fo dear to my heart ! fo true, fo faith- ful — even as angels true. — When we parted, we exchanged our rings, and vowed eternal conltan- cy,— She heard that 1 was dead — believed it — and was conflant to the dead. — She heard I was alive — and was faithlefs to the hving. — I flew into her arms — ^v^^as happy as the blell in paradife. — Think what a thunderftroke, Amelia ! — She gave me back my ring — flie took her own. AMELIA. % THE ROBBERS. 155 AMELIA. - (Looking on the ground with aJionj/hment,J Tis flrange, rnolt llrangel, moll horrible I MOOR. Ay, ftrange and horrible! — Ay, my good girl. Oh, much there is to know, much, much to learn, e'er this poor intelledl can judge of his decrees, who fmiles at human oaths, and weeps at man's fond projeds.— O but my Emily is a lucklefs maid, unfortunate! AMELIA. Unfortunate ! Yes, fmce (lie rejeded you. MOOR. Unfortunate.— She kifs'd the man Ihe had be- tray'd. AMELIA. ClVith melancholy tendernefs.) O then flie is in- deed (unfortunate I From my foul I pity her — O I could love her with a lifter's love. — But there is a better world than this. MOOR. YeSf where all eyes are opened ! and the phan- tom Love is view'd with fcorn or pity. — That ^ world 156 THE ROBBERS. world is called Eternity. — Ah but my Emily was a lucklefs maid ! O mod unfortunate AMELIA. Are all unfortunate and lucklefs whofe name is Emily ? MOOR. Yes, all — Yes, when they think they prefs an angel to their heart, and grafp — a murderer I— Unfortunate indeed, my Emily I AMELIA. CWith an exprejjion of deep affliElion,) O I muft weep for her I MOOR. {taking her hand, and Jhewing her the ring J) Weep then — for thyfelf. AMELIA. (Knowing the ring.) Charles ! Charles I O hea- ven and earth I (She faints — Tbefcene clofes.) SCENE, I THE ROBBERS. 1^7 SCENE, A Forejifeen by Moonlight. — In one part of the Scene a Ruined Tower, ne hand of Robbers Jleeping on the ground^ Spiegelberg and Razman come forward in dif- coiirfe, RAZMAN. The night is far advanced — and the Captain not come yet. SPIEGELBERG. Harkee, Razman, I have a word for you in con- fidence. — Captain, did you fay? Who made him our Captain ? or rather has he not ufurped that title, which by right was mine ? What 1 Is it for this wc have fet our hves on the caft of a die ? — Is it for this we have expofed ourfelves to fortune's fpleen, — have fcorned difgrace and infamy ? — What ! to be the daftard bondfmen of a flave ? — We flaves, who fhould be princes I — By heavens, Razman, I ne'er could brook it. razi/IAN; J58 THE ROBBERS. RAZMAN. Nor 1/ by Jupiter ! But where's the remedy ? SPIEGELBERG. The remedy ? Are you one of thofe flaves, and afk that queftion ? — Razman ! — If you are the man I always took you for Look'ee, they have obferved his abfence — nay, they almoft give him up for loft Razman, methinks 1 hear his knell — . What ! does not your heart bound at the thought ? the thought of hberty, my boy 1 Do you want courage for the buiinefs ? RAZMAN. Ha, Satan I how thou temptefl me ! SPIEGELBERG. What I Do you take me, boy ? Come then — follow me quick — 1 know the road he took — A brace of piflols feldom fail. — Come along I SWITZER. (Gets up fecretly?) Ha I villain — I have not for- got the Bohemian forefl: — when you fcream'd, like a pitiful fcoundrel, that the enemy was upon us. *— 'Twas then I fwore it by my foul— Have at your THE ROBBERS. 159 your heart, you murderer I (Draws his jword-^ They fight.) THE ROBBERS. (AUJlartingup.) Murder I murder I Switzer Spiegelberg — Separate them SWITZER. ( Stab f Spiegelberg.) There, villain I die I . Be quiet, my lads — Don't let this craven's fate a- larm you * This envious rafcal has always had a fpite at our Captain — and the coward has not a flea-bite on his dainty fkin — The rafcal would flab a man behind the back — would fkulk and mur- der. What boots it that we wafle ourfelves in toil, have drench'd ourfelves in fweat, have fed on fire and fulphur, if at the laft we meet a coward's. fate, and die like rats by poifon ? GRIMM. Zounds, our Captain will be horribly enraged., SWITZER. That's my concern alone— Shufterle play'd the fame * Germ. Lnjft euch die hafenjag-l vkht auf-v.-fc)i'cn. Don't be^ roufed at the hunting of this hare. • i6q the robbers. fame game, and he's hang'd, as our chief had pro- phefied for him. [AJhot is heard GRIMM. C Starting.) Hark 1 apiftoLfhotI — Another I-« Halloa, the Captain I I KOZINSKI. Patience, we mufl hear a third fhot. \A third Jhot is heard. GRIMM. 'Tishe,'tis he! — Switzer, conceal yourfelf for a moment — let me fpeak to him. [They found their horns. Enter Moor» SWITZER. (Running to meet him.) Welcome, Captain I I have been a little choleric in your abfence. {Shews him the dead body.) Be you judge between this man and me — he wanted to murder you — to flab you in the back. MOOR. Avenging Power I thy hand is here I Was it not THE ROBBERS. i6i not he whofe fyren fong fed weed us ? — Here con- ^fecrate this fword to the avenging God, whofe ways are incomprehenfible. — Switzer, 'twas not thy hand that did this deed. SWITZER. ■ Zounds ! but it was my hand. — And may I be curs'd^ if I think it the worll adion of my hfe. (Throws down his fword indignantly upon the body, and goes out. J MOOR. (Very thoughtfully. J I fee it plain I Father of Heaven ! I know it. The dry leaves fall around, — The autumn of my days is come! Take him out of my fight. (The body of Spiegelberg is carried out, J GRIMM. Give us our orders, Captain I What's to be done now? MOOR. Soon — very foon will all be accomplifhed.— - Of late Fve loll myfelf. — Bid your trumpets fpeak. — 1 want that mufic. I muft be fuckled like a child, and rear'd again to deeds of horror.—- Blow your trumpets I L J^OZINSKI. i6z THE ROBBERS. KOZiNSKI. Captain, this is the hour of midnight — lleep hangs heavy on our eye-lids — we have not fliut an eye thefe three nights. MOOR. And can foft Sleep reft on the murderer's lids ? Why flies he then from me ? — But 1 have been of late a daftard — a mere changeling. Blow your trumpets, I command you — I muft have muiic to roufe my fpirit from its lethargy. (T^hey play a warlike piece of inujic — Aloor walks about very thoughtfid^ and then gives aftgnalforthemtojlop.) Begone I Good night I — I'll talk to you to-mor- row. ne Robbers lay themfelves down on the ground, and one by one faint e him. Good night, Captain, (Iheyfall apep.) MOOR, (Alone awake, while there is a profound filence.) A long, long night I — on which no morrow e'er fhall dawn. — Think you that 1 will tremble ? — - ShadovvS of the dead, the murder'd, — rife ! no joint of me fhall quake. — Your dying agonies, your black THE ROBBERS. 163 black and llrangled vifages, your gaping wounds — thefe are bat links of that eternal chain of def- tiny which bound me from my birth, unconfcious bound me— which hung perhaps upon the hu- mours of my nurfe — my father's temperament, or my mother's blood.— -Why did the great Artificer form, like Perillus, this monfter, whofe burning entrails yearn for human flefh. C Holding a piflol to his forehead.) This little tube unites Eternity to time ! This awful key will fhut the prifon-door of life, and open up the regions of futurity. Tell me! oh tell I to what unknown, what ftranger coafls thou Ihalt conducl me ! The foul recoils within herfelf, 'and flirinks with terror from that dreadful thought; while fancy, cunning in her malice, fills the {z^^o, with horrid phantoms. — No, no I Whoe'er is man, mud on — Be what thou ' wilt, thou dread unknown^ io but this y^*^ remains; — this /j/ Daniel. TRANCIS. Betray'd ! betrayed I The fpirits of the dead rife from their graves — a countlefs hoft raifed from eternal fleep to haunt the murderer. — Who's that? DANIEL. (Anxioiijly.) Heaven pity me ! What ! my dear Lord, is it poffiblc it could be you who fhriek'd fo horribly as to waken us all out of our fleep? FRANCIS. Your fleep ? Who gave you leave to fleep ? What! THE ROBBERS. 185 What I Sleep at this hour, when all fhould be a- wake? — Awake! Ay, armed and caparifoned. — Quick, quick, to arms, to arms. — Load every muf- ket. — ^See'il thou not how they force their way through every door, and dart along yon vaulted palfages ?.. DANIEL. Who, my Lord ? FRANCIS. Who ? beafl I Doft thou not fee them ^ hear them? Are your fenfes gone? Demons and ghofts I How goes the night ? DANIEL. The watch has juft cried Two. FRANCIS. No more ? Will this eternal night laft to the day of judgment ? Heard you no noife without ? No fhouting ? Cries of vidory ? Hark I horfes at the gallop I Where is Char. ...... The Count, I mean ? DANIEL, I cannot tell, Sir. FRANCIS, i84 "^HE ROBBERS, FRANCIS. You cannot tell ? You are of the ^lot I — I'll tread your villain's heart out. — You cannot tell ? — The very beggars have confpired againft me. — Heaven, earth, and hell, combined againft me ! DANIEL. My Lord ! FRANCIS. Who faid I trembled ? — No — 'twas but a dream. The dead are in their graves — Tremble? — No — 1 am quite at eafe. DANIEL. V I You are not well, my Lord. — You are quite pale — Your voice is changed, — it faulters. FRANCIS. I am feverifh. — I fhall let blood to-morrow. DANIEL. Indeed, Sir, you are ill — very ill. FRANCIS. Yes, that is all.— It is fo, — and iUnefs afFeds the brain. THE ROBBERS. 185 brain, and gives wild dreams What matter what one dreams!— 'Tis indigetlion makes us dream. — I had a pleafant dream juft now. (He Jinks down in a faint. J DANIEL. Good God ! What's here I George i Conrad ! Baftian ! Martin ! Where are you all ? Give but a fign of hfe. (Hejhakes him. J O Lord I they'll fay 1 murdered him. FRANCIS. (Bijlurhed.) Begone I Who fhakes me there? Horrible fpedre I Are the dead alive .^ DAKIEL. Merciful God I He has loft his reafon I FRANCIS. (Recovering himfelf gradually.) Where ami? Is it you, Daniel? What did I fay? — What ligni- fies it ? — Don't mind it : — 'Twas all a lie, what- ever it was. — Come, help me — It was, I think, a Ht of giddinefs — from want of fleep. DANIEL. I'll call afTiftance, Sir :— fend for phylicians. FRANCIS' iS^ THE ROBBERS. FRANCIS. Stop.—Sit down here :~You are a man of fenfe, Daniel— I'll tell you how 1 DANIEL* No, no, Sir, — Another time. — I'll fee you put tc bed — you have great need of reft. FRANCIS. Nay, Daniel I muft tell you — 'tis fo odd.— You'll laugh, 1 promife you : — You rauft know I thought 1 had been feafting like a Prince, and I laid me down quite happy on one of the grally banks of the garden—there I fell afleep, and all of a fudden— -but you'll laugh when I tell you. DANIEL, All of a fudden What ? FRANCIS. All of a fudden, I was waked by a clap of thun- der. — 1 got upon my feet, and ftaggering, looked around me — when lo I the whole horizon feemed to be one great fiieet of fire— the mountains, towns, /> THE ROBBERS. 187 towns, and forefts feemed to melt like wax in a furnace ; and then a dreadful tempeft arofe, which drove before it the heavens, the earth, and th^ ocean, DANIEL. Good God ! It is the defcription of the day of judgment. FRANCIS. ^ Did you ever hear fuch ridiculous iluiT? Then I faw a perfon come forward, v/ho held in his right hand a brazen balance, which llretched from eaft to weft. — He cried with a loud voice, " Approach, ' " ye children of the dull : 1 weigh the thoughts *' of the heart I" DANIEL. God have mercy upon me ! I FRANCIS. All feemed to be ilruck with terror ; and eve- ry countenance was pale as allies. — 'Tw^as then I thought I heard m.y name in a dreadful voice that iifued in thunder from a mountain, — a voice that froze the marrow in my bones, and made my teeth chatter as if they had been of iron. DANIEL. iSB THE ROBBERS. DANIEL. .0, may God forgive you I FRANCIS. He did not forgive me. — Behold, an old man appeared, — emaciated — bent to the ground with forrovv,— a horrible light ; for he had gnawed a- way one half of his arm from hunger. — None could bear to look upon him. — I knew him: — He cut off one of his grey locks, and threw it from him.— Then 1 heard a voice ifllie from the fmoke of the mountain : " Mercy and forgivenefs to all *' the iinners of the earth I Thou only art rejed- *' ed." C After a long paufe.J Why don't you laugh? DANIEL. Laugh ? at what makes my flefli creep ? — Dreams come from God ! FRANCIS. Fy, fy ! you mufl not fay fo. — Call me a fool, a child, an idiots—any thing. But prithee laugh at me, DANIEL. Dreams come fromGoda— I will go pray for you. [Exit. FRANCIS. THE ROBBERS. 189 PRANCIS. No — 'Tis popular fuperflition ! All chimeras I If the pall is pall, who has decided that an eye a- bove fliall e'er look back upon it ? — Does venge- ance dwell above the liars ? No, no : — Yet there is fomething here- that tells, in dreadful whifpers to my foul, there is — a Judge above the liars I — Should I this night appear before him — No, 'tis all a jell — a miferable fabterfage for coward fear to grafp at. — But if it fhould be fo — if that were true — and all were regillered above— and this the night 0/ reekoning.--^ Why this quaking of the joints? this fearful fhuddering? To die I — that word congeals my blood— -To give account I Av, and when that reckoning comes, to face the Judge '■ — fnould he do jullice I FMter a Servant hajlily. SERVANT. Amelia has efcaped. — The Count h^s fuddenly gone off. Enter Daniel, with a countenance of terror, DANIEL. My Lord, there is a troop of horfemen riding up i^ THEROBBERS, up to the Caflle at the full gallop, and crying, murder, murder I The village is all in alarm. FRANCIS. Go ring the bells, and fummon all to church — ^ to prayers 1 fay — I will have prayers faid for me : — I'll fet the prifoners free — make reilicution to the poor, five and fix fold Go call my confeiTor, to give me abfolution of my fins What! not yet gone ? (The tumult increafes.J DANIEL. God forgive me all my fins ! A re you ferious, Sir ? And do you really wifh I fliould obey thefe orders ? — You, who have alv/ays made a jeft of prayers, and who lo oft FRANCIS. No more ! To die, — to die is dreadful — It will be too late. (Switzer's cry is heard,) To prayers, to prayers ! DANIEL. 'Tis what I always told you — but you mock'd 9X prayer. — And now, behold, Sir, when you are in THE ROBBERS. 19 c in trouble — when the flood overwhelms your foul Switzer's voice is heard in the court of the Cajlle, SWITZER. Storm — break down the gates. — Yonder is a light I — they mud be there I FRANCIS. (On his knees.) Hear my prayer, O God of heaven ! It is the firlt. Hear me, O God of heaven I SWITZER. (Still in the court,) Strike them down, my lads. — It is the devil come from hell to feize him. — Where's Blackman with his troop ? Surround the caftle, Grimm I — Run! ftorm the ramparts, GRIMM. Here ! bring the firebrands I — Watch where he comes down : — We'll fmoke him out I FRANCIS, ipi THE ROBBERS. FRANCIS. My God ! I have been no common murderer- no miferable petty crimes committed I — DANIEL. God have compaffion on us I Even his prayers are lins I (Theyftingjiones and firebrands— the windows are broken in — the cqflle isfet on fire. J^ FRANCIS. I cannot pray. — Here, here, (beating on his hreajl,) all is choked up I — No, 1 will pray no more.— DAklEL, j Chrift and his Mother fave us ! — The whole callle is on fire ! FRANCIS. Here I take this fword ! flab me behind ! — - thruft it into my bowels — ^that thefe villains may not come to make their fport of me. (ne fire increafes.J DANIEL. i THE ROBBE RS. 153 DANIEL. Goiforbid!— I will fenJ none to lieaven before his ti ne, far lefs to (He runs off. J FRANCIS. (Looking after him. — -A paufe.J To hell, he Would have faid. — Yes, I feel he's right Are thefe their fliouts of triumph? — that hiffing there, is it hell's ferpents ? Hark, they are coining up! — they are at the door I — Why fliould I flmdder at this fword's point?— Hal the gate is down I — Now 'tis impoflible to efcape. — (He attempts to throw himfelf into the flames, and is purfue'd by the Robbers, who rujl) in, acrofs the flag e. J SCENE, A Forefl. — A ruined Tower, as in the end of the Fourth Ad, TheOhTi Count de Moor feated upon aflone, — Charles de Moor in convtrfation with him.-~- Some of the band flattered through theForefl. MOOR. And was he dear to you, that othex fon ? N OLD MQOR. 194- THE ROBBERS. OLD MOOR. Heaven knows how dear he was to- me I O why did my weak heart ever hfteh to thofe art- ful tales of bafeil calumny ? I was fo happy ! a- bove all fathers bleft in the fair promife of my childrens youth. — But, Oh accurfed hour I the fpirit of a fiend polTeiTed the younger of my fons — I trufled to the ferpent's wiles, and loft — both my children 1 C Hides his face with his hands. Moor goes to a little dijlance.) How deeply now I feel the truth of thofe fad words Amelia utter- ed, " In vain, when on your death- bed, you fhall *' ftretch your feeble hands to grafp your Charles " — he never will approach your bed — never *' more comfort you.'^ (Moor\ turning away V\s head, gvves him his hand.) Oh were this my Charles's hand ! But he is gone l—He's in the nar- row houfe I he fleeps the lleep of death I — He cannot hear the voice of my complaint — I muft die amidft the ftrangers — No fon have I to clofe my eyes ! MOOR, (In great agitation,) It muft be fo — it muft this moment. (T^o the Robbers.) Leave us alone! — And yet — can 1 bring back his fon ? — I never can bring back that fon ! — No, no, it muft not be. — No, never, never I OLD THE ROBBERS. OLD MOOR. 195 What doit thou fay ? — What doft thou mutter to thyfelf ? MOOR. Thy fon ! — Yes, old man, (hejitating,) thy fon is loft for ever ! OLD MOOR. For ever? MOOR. Afk me no more I — For ever! OLD MOOR. Why did you take me from yon hideous dun- geon ? MOOR. (AJide.) But ftay — If I could now but get his blefling — fteal it from him like a thief, and fo e- fcape with that celeftial treafure ! (He throws hini" f elf at his feet.) 1 broke the iron bolts of the dun^ geon. — BlelTed old man I I alk thy kifs for that. OLD MOOR. (Freffing him to his bofom.J Take this, and think it is a father*s kifs — and I will dream I N 2. hold 196 THE ROBBERS, hold my Charles to my bread. — What ? can you weep ? MOOR. fWith great emotion. J I thought it was a fa- ther's kifs. (Throws bimfelf on his neck, — A con- fufed noije is heard, and alight is feen of torches ap- proaching. Moor rifes hajlily.) Hark I 'tis ven- geance comes I Yonder they come I (Looks earnejlly at the old man, and then raifes his eyes to heaven, with an exprejjion of deliberate fury.) Thou fuffering Lamb I enfla..ie me with the tyger's fu- ry ! The facrifice mufl now be offered up 1 and fuch a viclim, that the ilars fhall hide their heads in darknefs, and univerfal nature be appalled ! (The torches are feen, the noife increafes, and f eve- ral piflol-pMs are heard.) OLD MOOR. Alas I alas ! what is that horrid noife ? Wh© is a-coming? — Are thefe ray fon's confederates come to drag me from the dungeon to the fcaf- fold? MOOR. (Raifing his hands to heaven.) O Judge of hea- ven and earth I hear a murderer's prayer I Give him ten thoufand lives ! may life return anew, and THE ROBBERS. 197 and every dagger's ftroke refrefli him for eternal agonies I OLD MOOR, What is't you mutter there?— ,'tis horrible I — MOOR. I fay my prayers ! (The wild mujtc of the Rob- bers is heard. J ^ OLD MOOR. O think of Francis in your prayers ! MOOR. CIn a voice choked with rage,) He is not for- gotten I OLD MOOR. That's not the voice of one vi^ho prays ! — O ceafe I — Such prayers are dreadful! — I (Enter Switzer with a party of Robbers : — Fran- cis de Moor, handcuffed, in the middle of them, J SWITZER. Triumph I Captain. — Here he is I — I have ful- filled my word. N3 ORIMM. \ I9S THE ROBBERS. GRIMM. We tore him out of the flames of his caflle :-« His vaflals all took to flight. KOZINSKI. The caflle is in afhes — and even the memory of his name annihilated. (^A dreadful paufe. — - Moor comes fiowly forward.) MOOR. CWith aflern voice to Francis.) Doft thou know me ? (Francis^ without anfwering^ fixes his eyes im- movably on the ground^ while Charles leads him to- wards the old man,) MOOR. Doll thou know that man ? FRANCIS, (Starting hack with horror.) Thunder of hea= yen ! It is my father I OLD MOOR. (Turns away fhuddering.) Go I May God for- give you. — ^1 have forgotten MOOR, ^ n THE ROBBERS. 299 MOOR, (With Jlern feverity.) And may my curfe ac- company that prayer, and clog it with a milftone's weight, that it may never reach the mercy-feat of God I — Do you know that dungeon ? FRANCIS. (To Herman,) Monfterl Has your inveterate enmity to our blood, purfued my poor father even to this dungeon ? HERMAN. Bravo I Bravo! Where a lie is wanted, the de- vil will never defert his own. MOOR. Enough. — Lead this old man a httle on into the foreft. — 1 need no father's tears to prompt to what remains. (They lead off the Old Count, who is in ajlate of infenfihility,) Approach ye felons ! (They form afemicircle round the two brothers, and look flernly on, refling upon their mujkets.) Now, not a breath be heard ! As fure as I yet hope for heaven's mercy — the firfl who moves his lips to utter a found, 1 blow his brains out. — Huflil FRANCIS. 200 THE RORBERS. FRANCIS, (To Herman, in a tr an/port of rage, j Wretch! that 1 could fpit my poifonous foam in torrents on that face' I — This is gall I (Gnciwing his chains, and weeping from rage. J MOOR* (I'Vith great dignity.) I ftand commifiioned here as minifter of heaven's Almighty King, the Judge of right and wrong ; — and from your mouths I fhall announce a doom, which the moil pure and upright court on earth would fandion and approve. — The guilty are alTembled here as judges, and I of all moft guilty am their chief. — He, who on fcrutiny of his ow^n confcience, and ilricl revieu' of all his pall offences, does not ap- pear pure as the innocent child, and fpotlefs when compared with this enormous and moft horrible wretch, let him withdraw from this airembly, and break his poniard as a token I (All the Robbers throw away their poniards, without breaking them^ and remain in the fame pof lure. ) Kow, Moor, be proud indeed I for thou haft this day changed the fcarlet iinners to the fpotlefs angels There's dill a poniard wanting. (He draws his poniard, and a faife erfucs.) His mother was mine too I (To Kozinfki THE ROBBERS. 201 Kozhi/ki and Switzer.) Be you the judges ! fin great emotion he breaks his poniard^ and retires to a Me,) SWITZER. (After a paufe,) Why fland we here like fchool-boys, wiidered and amazed, — our faculties It eked up. — What, not a new invention to be found of torment. — Wliile hfe is laviih in varie- ty of pleafures, is death fo niggardly in choice of tortures? ( Striking the ground, impatiently.) Speak thou, for I have ioil all faculty of invention. KOZINSKI. Think on his gray hairs : — Call your eyes on that dungeon : — Let tneie fugged I Should I, a fcholar, thus infhucl his n^, after. ^ SV/ITZER. Accuftomed as I am to fcenes of horror, Fm poor in fuch inventicn.— Was not this dungeon the chief fceiie of his atrocious crimes ? — Sit we not now in judgment before this dungeon.^ Duv\'n with him into the vault 1 there let him rot THE 502 THE ROBBERS. THE ROBBERS. {Applauding twnidtuoiifly .') Down with him ! Down with him I {They go to lay hold ofhim^ FRANCIS. {Springing into the arms of his brother?) Save me from the claws of thefe murderers I Save me, brother I MOOR. Thou hall made me chief of thefe murderers. {Francis Jlarts hack with terror?) Wilt thou en- treat me now? THE ROBBERS. {Still more tumultuous.) Down with him I Down with him 1 MOOR. Then is my part fuperduous. — (With a digni- fied exprejfion of grief.') Son of my father I Thou hail robbed me of Heaven's biifs ! Be that fin blotted out I Perdition is thy lot I — I do forgive thee, brother I {He embraces him, and goes out, while the Robbers put Francis down into the dungeon^ laughing in afcrvage manner,) MOORc THE ROBBERS. ^03 MOOR. (^Returning, plunged in a deep reverie.^ It is ac- complidied I O God who rulefl all ! accept my thanks. — It is accomplilhed I {In deep medkathn.) If this dungeon should be the limit of my COURSE, to which TKOU HAST LED ME THROUGH PATHS OF BLOOD AND HORROR: If FOR THAT END THOU HAST DECREED I SHOULD BECOME THE CHIEF OF THESE FOUL MURDERERS! Eternal PlO- vidence I 1 bend me to thy will with awe and re- yerence — I tremble and adore! —Thus let it be — and here I terminate the work. — His battle o'er, the foldier falls with dignity. Thus let me va- nifli with the night, and end my courfe as breaks yon purple dawn I — Bring in my father ! (So7?ie of the Robbers go ovt, and return with the old man.') OLD MOOR, O whither do you lead me ? Where is my fon? MOOR. • {l¥ith dignified compofure. ) The planet and the gr.^in of fand hath each its place allotted in this fcena 2Q4 TKE ROBBERS. fcene of things : Thy fon hath hkewife his Be feated there ! OLD MOOR, (Breaks out into tears.) Oh, I have no children! None ! MOOR. Peace, peace ! Be feated there I OLD MOOR. O cruel in your kindnefsl You have faved a dying wretch, and dragged him back to hfe, only to tell him that his children are no more I Shew mercy yet, and bury me again in that dark tow- MOOR. (^Seizes his hand^ and raijes it with tranfport to heaven.) Do not b]afphem^,o]d mani Blafpheme not Him, before whofe righteous throne I have this day prayed with confidence — To-day, the wicked have approached the throne of mercy. OLD MOOR. And have they tliere been taught to murder? MOOR. THE ROBBERS. 205 MOOR. (}Vkh a voice of indignation.) Old man, no morel (In a calmer tone.) If His divinity thus ilirs within the fln^^3r's bread, is it for faints to quench that holy fire ? Where could you no;v find words to exprefs contrition or to fue forgive- iiefs, if this day He fbould baptife for thee — A SON? OLD MOOR. Are fons baptifed in blood ? MOOR. What dofl thou fay? Is truth revealed by the tongue of defpair ? — Yes, old man, it is poilible for Providence to baptife even with blood. — This day He has baptifed for thee with blood Fear- ful and wonderful are His ways But in the end are tears of jjy. OLD MOOR, Where fhall thofe tears be (lied : MOOR. . Upon thy Charles's heart I (Throivs himfelf in- to hh arms.) OLD 30^ THE ROBBERg. OLD MOOR. (In a tranfport of joy, J My Charles alive ! MOOR. Yes I -he's ahve I fent here to fave — to avenge his father.- Thus by thy favourite fon thy kind- nefs recompenfed. (Pointing to the tower. J Thus by the prodigal revenged ! (Prejfes him more warmly to his hreaji,) THE ROBBERS, Hark I there are voices in the foreft ! MOOR. Call in the band I (ne Robbers go out. J 'Tis time, O heart 1 time to remove the cup of plea« fure from the lips, before it turn to poifon. OLD MOOR. Are thefe men thy friends ? I dread to look at them. MOOR. Afk any thing hut that ! — ^That has no anfwef , Enter THE ROBBERS. lo) Enter Amelia, with her hair dijhevelled. All the band follow^ and range themfelves in the back ground of the fcene. AMELIA. They fay the dead have aPifen at his voice — that my uncle is alive — faved from that towerl — My Charles, where are you? Where is my uncle? MOOR, C Starting hack. J Oh I what a pidlure for an eye like mine ! OLD MOOR, (Rifes trembling^ Amelia I my dear niece I AMELIA, (Throwifig herf elf into the old inarHs arms.') My father, O once more, my Charles I — ^my all ! OLD MOOR. My Charles alive I— and I! —and all! My Charles ahve I MOOR. (With fury, to the band.) Let us be gone, my friends I The arch-fiend has betrayed me ! AMELIA. 2oS THE ROBBER 5. AMELIA. (pifeng aging h erf elf from the embrace of the old man, flies into the arms o/' Charles, and embraces him with tranfport^ 1 have him here ! O heavens, I have him here 1 MOOR, Tear her from mvarmsl — Kill her I — and him — ^and me too — ^and all! — Let natm'e go to wreck I AMELIA, My hufband I Oh my hufband I Tranfported quite 1 he is in extafy. — ^Why am 1 thus poor in tranfport ? cold, infenfible, 'midfl this tumultuous OLD MOOR. Come, my children! Here, Charles, thy hand — and thine, Amelia ! A happinels like this 1 never looked for on this fide the grave. — Here let me blefs your union — and for ever AMELIA. For ever his! Forever! and he mine! O Pow- ers of heaven ! abate this torrent of delight ! It kills with pleafure ! MOOK^ THE ROBBERS. 209 MOOR. {Tearing himfelf from the arms of Amelia,) Away ! away I dear wretch I mod miferable of brides !— Look there ! — afk of thefe men I — and hear them I — Hear them, O mod unhappy of all fathers I — Let me be gone for ever I AMELIA, What wouldfl thou do ? — where go ? — Here's love and happhiefs eternal I What mean thofe dreadful words ? OLD MOOR. Where would he -go ? My fon! my only fon I What does he mean ? MOOR. It is too late I — In vain I Thy curfe, my fa- ther I — Alk me no more.— ~1 am — 1 have — thy curfe — believed, at lead, thy curfe* I (With firmnefs,J Die, wretched Emily! — Father, by me twice ilain I — thefe thy dehverers — are rob- bers I — robbers and affafiins I — Thy fon — their Captain ! OLD Germ. Deln vermeinlerjiuch. Thy fuppofed curf«i. 210 THE ROBBERS. OLD MOOR. O God I My children I— Oh ! (He dies.) (Amelia remains iimtionlefs as a Jlatue. — T^he hand preferve a dreadful Jilence . ) MOOR. (Running to daJJ? his head againjl an oak, Jlops fuddenly.J The fpirits of thofe I murdered in their ileep — or in the bed of love I — Hark! yon dread- ful explofion, which crufh'd to death the mother and her infant I— The flames, which lick'd the cradles of the babes I — -Ay, that's the nuptial torch — and thefe the wedding fongs ! Oh I He has not forgotten. — He knows to crave his debt. — ^Then, Love, be gone for ever. — Here is my doom — and this my juft award I — 'Tis retribu- tion, AMELIA. (Who recovers as if from a thunder -Jiroke,) Fa-^ ther of heaven 1 'tis true !' — He has laid it !— It is true. — But what have I done ? — -I, an innocent iamb I — 1 have loved this Man I MOOR, nris more than man can bear ! I have heard the yell of death poured from a thoufand mouths, and THE ROBBERS. 211 and never fhrunk ! Shall 1 now quake before a woman ? — be myfelf a woman ! No, no I No woman e'er fhall move to weaknefs this man's heart. I mult have blood I — This will wear oft' I I'll drink of blood — and then I'll brave my fate* 1 (Is going off. J AMELIA. (RuJ})es into his arms.) Murderer! fiend I whatever thou art — angel to me I I will not let thee go I MOOR. Is this a dream ? a frenzy of the brain? or new^ device of hell, to make its game of me ? See how fhe clings — clings to the murderer's neck I AMELIA. Ay — faft I — for ever I MOOR. She loves me ! — loves me ftill. — Then I am fpotlefs as the hght I — She loves me. — With all my crimes, fhe loves, me ; — an angel weeps on a fiend's neck — a fiend reilored to grace. — Here let the ferpents of the Furies die — hell fink to nothing — I am happy I (^Hiding his face on the bofom of Amelia.') O Z GRIMM. 2'i2 THE ROBBERS, GRIMM. (Furioufiy.') Stop, Traitor! leave her arms this inftant !— or I will fpeak a word that fliall appal thee to the foul I SWITZER. (Interpofes his /word between Moor ^?;z