MOSER. 'Twere well that you could also blow away the thunder which will
alight upon your proud soul with ten thousand times ten thousand tons'
weight! That omniscient God, whom you--fool and miscreant--are denying
in the midst of his creation, needeth not to justify himself by the
mouth of dust. He is as great in your tyrannies as in the sweetest
smile of triumphant virtue.

FRANCIS. Uncommonly well said, parson. Thus I like you.

MOSER. I stand here as steward of a greater Master, and am addressing
one who, like myself, is a sinner--one whom I care not to please. I
must indeed be able to work miracles, to extort the acknowledgment from
your obdurate wickedness--but if your conviction is so firm, why have
you sent for me in the middle of the night?

FRANCIS. Because time hangs heavy on my hands, and the chess-board has
ceased to have any attraction. I wish to amuse myself in a tilt with
the parson. Your empty terrors will not unman my courage. I am well
aware that those who have come off short in this world look forward to
eternity; but they will be sadly disappointed. I have always read that
our whole body is nothing more than a blood-spring, and that, with its
last drop, mind and thought dissolve into nothing. They share all the
infirmities of the body; why, then, should they not cease with its
dissolution? Why not evaporate in its decomposition? Let a drop of
water stray into your brain, and life makes a sudden pause, which
borders on non-existence, and this pause continued is death. Sensation
is the vibration of a few chords, which, when the instrument is broken,
cease to sound. If I raze my seven castles--if I dash this Venus to
pieces--there is an end of their symmetry and beauty. Behold! thus is
it with your immortal soul!

MOSER. So says the philosophy of your despair. But your own heart,
which knocks against your ribs with terror even while you thus argue,
gives your tongue the lie. These cobwebs of systems are swept away by
the single word--"Thou must die!" I challenge you, and be this the
test: If you maintain your firmness in the hour of death; if your
principles do not then miserably desert you, you shall be admitted to
have the best of the argument. But if, in that dread hour, the least
shudder creeps over you, then woe be to you! you have deceived yourself.

FRANCIS (disturbed). If in the hour of death a shudder creeps over me?

MOSER. I have seen many such wretches before now, who set truth at
defiance up to that point; but at the approach of death the illusion
vanished. I will stand at your bedside when you are dying--I should
much like to see a tyrant die. I will stand by, and look you
steadfastly in the face when the physician takes your cold, clammy hand,
and is scarcely able to detect your expiring pulse; and when he looks
up, and, with a fearful shake of the head, says to you, "All human aid
is in vain!" Beware, at that moment, beware, lest you look like Richard
and Nero!

FRANCIS. No! no!

MOSER. Even that very "No" will then be turned to a howling "Yea!" An
inward tribunal, which you can no longer cheat with sceptical delusions,
will then wake up and pass judgment upon you. But the waking up will be
like that of one buried alive in the bowels of the churchyard; there
will come remorse like that of the suicide who has committed the fatal
act and repents it;--'twill be a flash of lightning suddenly breaking in
upon the midnight darkness of your life! There will be one look, and,
if you can sustain that, I will admit that you have won!

FRANCIS (walking up and down restlessly). Cant! Priestly cant!

MOSER. Then, for the first time, will the sword of eternity pass
through your soul;--and then, for the first time, too late, the thought
of God will wake up a terrible monitor, whose name is Judge. Mark this,
Moor; a thousand lives hang upon your beck; and of those thousand every
nine hundred and ninety-nine have been rendered miserable by you. You
wanted but the Roman empire to be a Nero, the kingdom of Peru to be a
Pizarro. Now do you really think that the Almighty will suffer a worm
like you to play the tyrant in His world and to reverse all his
ordinances? Do you think the nine hundred and ninety-nine were created
only to be destroyed, only to serve as puppets in your diabolical game?
Think it not! He will call you to account for every minute of which you
have robbed them, every joy that you have poisoned, every perfection
that you have intercepted. Then, if you can answer Him--then, Moor,
I will admit that you have won.

FRANCIS. No more, not another word! Am I to be at the mercy of thy
drivelling fancies?

MOSER. Beware! The different destinies of mankind are balanced with
terrible nicety. The scale of life which sinks here will rise there,
and that which rises here will sink there. What was here temporary
affliction will there be eternal triumph; and what here was temporary
triumph will there be eternal despair.

FRANCIS (rushing savagely upon him.) May the thunder of heaven strike
thee dumb, thou lying spirit! I will tear thy venomed tongue out of thy
mouth!

MOSER. Do you so soon feel the weight of truth? Before I have brought
forward one single word of evidence? Let me first proceed to the
proofs--

FRANCIS. Silence! To hell with thee and thy proofs! The soul is
annihilated, I tell thee, and I will not be gainsaid!

MOSER. That is what the spirits of the bottomless pit are hourly
moaning for; but heaven denies the boon. Do you hope to escape from the
Avenger's arm even in the solitary waste of nothingness? If you climb
up into heaven, he is there! if you make your bed in hell, behold he is
there also! If you say to the night, "Hide me!" and to the darkness,
"Cover me!" even the night shall be light about you, and darkness blaze
upon your damned soul like a noonday sun.

FRANCIS. But I do not wish to be immortal--let them be so that like;
I have no desire to hinder them. I will force him to annihilate me;
I will so provoke his fury that he may utterly destroy me. Tell me
which are the greatest sins--which excite him to the most terrible
wrath?

MOSER. I know but two. But men do not commit these, nor do men even
dream of them.

FRANCIS. What are they?

MOSER (very significantly). Parricide is the name of the one;
fratricide of the other. Why do you turn so suddenly pale?

FRANCIS. What, old man? Art thou in league with heaven or with hell?
Who told thee that?

MOSER. Woe to him that hath them both upon his soul! It were better
for that man that he had never been born! But be at peace; you have no
longer either a father or a brother!

FRANCIS. Ha! what! Do you know no greater sin? Think again! Death,
heaven, eternity, damnation, hang upon thy lips. Not one greater?

MOSER. No, not one

FRANCIS (falling back in a chair). Annihilation! annihilation!

MOSER. Rejoice, then, rejoice! Congratulate yourself! With all your
abominations you are yet a saint in comparison with a parricide. The
curse that falls upon you is a love ditty in comparison with the curse
that lies upon him. Retribution--

FRANCIS (starting up). Away with thee! May the graves open and swallow
thee ten thousand fathoms deep, thou bird of ill omen! Who bade thee
come here? Away, I tell thee, or I will run thee through and through!

MOSER. Can mere "priestly cant" excite a philosopher to such a pitch of
frenzy? Why not blow it away with a breath of your lips?
                             (Exit.)

       [FRANCIS throws himself about in his chair in
        terrible agitation. Profound stillness.]

             Enter a SERVANT, hastily

SERVANT. The Lady Amelia has fled. The count has suddenly disappeared.

           Enter DANIEL, in great alarm.

DANIEL. My lord, a troop of furious horsemen are galloping down the
hill, shouting "murder! murder!" The whole village is in alarm.

FRANCIS. Quick! let all the bells be tolled--summon everyone to the
chapel--let all fall on their knees--pray for me. All prisoners shall
be released and forgiven--I will make two and threefold restitution to
the poor--I will--why don't you run? Do call in the father confessor,
that he may give me absolution for my sins. What! are you not gone yet?
(The uproar becomes more audible.)

DANIEL. Heaven have mercy upon me, poor sinner! Can I believe you
in earnest, sir? You, who always made a jest of religion? How many
a Bible and prayer-book have you flung at my bead when by chance you
caught me at my devotions?

FRANCIS. No more of this. To die! think of it! to die! It will be too
late! (The voice of SCHWEITZER is heard, loud and furious.) Pray for
me, Daniel! Pray, I entreat you!

DANIEL. I always told you,--"you hold prayer in such contempt; but take
heed! take heed! when the fatal hour comes, when the waters are flowing
in upon your soul, you will be ready to give all the treasures of the
world for one little Christian prayer." Do you see it now? What abuse
you used to heap on me! Now you feel it! Is it not so!

FRANCIS (embracing him violently). Forgive me! my dear precious jewel
of a Daniel, forgive me! I will clothe you from head to foot--do but
pray. I will make quite a bridegroom of you--I will--only do pray--
I entreat you--on my knees, I conjure you. In the devil's name, pray!
why don't you pray? (Tumult in the streets, shouts and noises.)

SCHWEIT. (in the street). Storm the place! Kill all before you!
Force the gates! I see lights! He must be there!

FRANCIS (on his knees). Listen to my prayer, O God in heaven! It is
the first time--it shall never happen again. Hear me, God in heaven!

DANIEL. Mercy on me! What are you saying? What a wicked prayer!

          Uproar of the PEOPLE, rushing in.

PEOPLE. Robbers! murderers! Who makes such a dreadful noise at this
midnight hour!

SCHWEIT (still in the street). Beat them back, comrades! 'Tis the
devil, come to fetch your master. Where is Schwarz with his troop?
Surround the castle, Grimm! Scale the walls!

GRIMM. Bring the firebrands. Either we must up or he must down. I will
throw fire into his halls.

FRANCIS (praying). Oh Lord! I have been no common murderer--I have
been guilty of no petty crimes, gracious Lord--

DANIEL. Heaven be merciful to us! His very prayers are turned to sins.
(Stones and firebrands are hurled up from below; the windows fall in
with a crash; the castle takes fire.)

FRANCIS. I cannot pray. Here! and here! (striking his breast and his
forehead) All is so void--so barren! (Rises from his knees.) No, I will
not pray. Heaven shall not have that triumph, nor hell that pastime.

DANIEL. O holy Virgin! Help! save! The whole castle is in flames!

FRANCIS. There, take this sword! Quick! Run it right through my body,
that these fiends may not be in time to make holiday sport of me. (The
fire increases.)

DANIEL. Heaven forbid? Heaven forbid! I would send no one before his
time to heaven, much less to--(He runs away).

FRANCIS (following him with a ghastly stare, after a pause).
To hell, thou wouldst say. Indeed! I scent something of the kind.
(In delirium.) Are these their triumphant yells? Do I hear you
hissing, ye serpents of the abyss? They force their way up--they
besiege the door! Why do I shrink from this biting steel? The door
cracks--it yields--there is no escape! Ha! then do thou have mercy upon
me! (He tears away the golden cord from his hat, and strangles
himself.)*

   *[In the acting edition, Francis attempts to throw himself into the
   flames, but is prevented by the robbers, and taken alive. He is
   then brought before his brother, in chains, for sentence.
   SCHWEITZER says, "I have fulfilled my word, and brought him alive."
   GRIMM. "We tore him out of the flames and the castle is in ashes."
   After confronting Francis with his father, and a reproachful
   interview between the brothers, Charles delegates the judgment on
   Francis to Schweitzer and Kosinsky, but for himself forgives him in
   these words: "Thou hast robbed me of heaven's bliss! Be that sin
   blotted out! Thy doom is sealed--perdition is thy lot! But I
   forgive thee, brother." Upon this CHARLES embraces and leaves him;
   the ROBBERS however, thrust FRANCIS into the dungeon where he had
   immured his father, laughing in a savage manner. Beyond this the
   fate of Francis is left undetermined. Schweitzer, instead of
   killing himself, is made partaker, with Kosinsky, of Moor's
   estate.]

           Enter SCHWEITZER and his band.

SCHWEITZER. Murderous wretch, where art thou? Did you see how they
fled? Has he so few friends? Where has the beast crawled to?

GRIMM (stumbles over the corpse). Stay! what is this lying in the way?
Lights here.

SCHWARZ. He has been beforehand with us. Put up your swords. There he
lies sprawling like a dead dog.

SCHWEITZER. Dead! What! dead? Dead without me? 'Tis a lie, I say.
Mark how quickly he will spring upon his feet! (Shakes him). Hollo!
up with you? There is a father to be murdered.

GRIMM. Spare your pains. He is as dead as a log.

SCHWEITZER (steps aside from him). Yes, his game is up! He is dead!
dead! Go back and tell my captain he is as dead as a log. He will not
see me again. (Blows his brains out.)




 SCENE II.--The scene the same as the last scene of the preceding Act.

     OLD MOOR seated on a stone; CHARLES VON MOOR opposite;
          ROBBERS scattered through the wood.

CHARLES. He does not come! (Strikes his dagger against a stone till
the sparks fly.)

OLD MOOR. Let pardon be his punishment--redoubled love my vengeance.

CHARLES. No! by my enraged soul that shall not be! I will not permit
it. He shall bear that enormous load of crime with him into eternity!--
what else should I kill him for?

OLD MOOR (bursting into tears). Oh my child!

CHARLES. What! you weep for him? In sight of this dungeon?

OLD MOOR. Mercy! oh mercy! (Wringing his hands violently.) Now--now my
son is brought to judgment!

CHARLES (starting). Which son?

OLD MOOR. Ha! what means that question?

CHARLES. Nothing! nothing!

OLD MOOR. Art thou come to make a mockery of my grief?

CHARLES. Treacherous conscience! Take no heed of my words!

OLD MOOR. Yes, I persecuted a son, and a son persecutes me in return.
It is the finger of God. Oh my Charles! my Charles! If thou dost hover
around me in the realms of peace, forgive me! oh forgive me!

CHARLES (hastily). He forgives you! (Checking himself.) If he is
worthy to be called your son, he must forgive you!

OLD MOOR. Ha! he was too noble a son for me. But I will go to him with
my tears, my sleepless nights, my racking dreams. I will embrace his
knees, and cry--cry aloud--"I have sinned against heaven and before
thee; I am no longer worthy to be called thy father!"

CHARLES (in deep emotion). Was he very dear to you--that other son?

OLD MOOR. Heaven is my witness, how much I loved him. Oh, why did I
suffer myself to be beguiled by the arts of a wicked son? I was an
envied father among the fathers of the world--my children full of
promise, blooming by my side! But--oh that fatal hour!--the demon of
envy entered into the heart of my younger son--I listened to the
serpent--and--lost both my children! (Hides his countenance.)

CHARLES (removes to a distance from him). Lost forever!

OLD MOOR. Oh, deeply do I feel the words of Amelia. The spirit of
vengeance spoke from her lips. "In vain wilt thou stretch forth thy
dying hands after a son, in vain fancy thou art grasping the warm hands
of thy Charles,--he will never more stand by thy bedside."

    (CHARLES stretches out his hand to him with averted face.)

Oh, that this were the hand of my Charles! But he is laid far away in
the narrow house--he is sleeping the iron sleep--he hears not the voice
of my lamentation. Woe is me! to die in the arms of a stranger? No son
left--no son left to close my eyes!

CHARLES (in violent emotion). It must be so--the moment has arrived.
Leave me--(to the ROBBERS.) And yet--can I restore his son to him?
Alas! No! I cannot restore him that son! No! I will not think of it.

OLD MOOR. Friend! what is that you were muttering?

CHARLES. Your son--yes, old man--(faltering) your son--is--lost
forever!

OLD MOOR. Forever?

CHARLES (looking up to heaven in bitter anguish). Oh this once--keep my
soul from sinking--sustain me but this once!

OLD MOOR. Forever, did you say.

CHARLES. Ask no more! I said forever!

OLD MOOR. Stranger, stranger! why didst thou drag me forth from the
dungeon to remind me of my sorrows?

CHARLES. And what if I were now to snatch his blessing?--snatch it like
a thief, and steal away with the precious prize? A father's blessing,
they say, is never lost.

OLD MOOR. And is my Francis too lost?

CHARLES (falling on his knees before him). 'Twas I who burst the bars
of your dungeon. I crave thy blessing!

OLD MOOR (sorrowfully). Oh that thou shouldst destroy the son!--thou,
the father's deliverer! Behold! Heaven's mercy is untiring, and we
pitiful worms let the sun go down upon our wrath. (Lays his hand upon
the head of CHARLES.) Be thou happy, even as thou shalt be merciful!

CHARLES (rising much affected). Oh!--where is my manhood? My sinews
are unstrung--the sword drops from my hand.

OLD MOOR. How lovely a thing it is when brethren dwell together in
unity; as the dewdrops of heaven that fall upon the mountains of Zion.
Learn to deserve that happiness, young man, and the angels of heaven
will sun themselves in thy glory. Let thy wisdom be the wisdom of gray
hairs, but let thy heart be the heart of innocent childhood.

CHARLES. Oh, for a foretaste of that happiness! Kiss me, divine old
man!

OLD MOOR (kissing him). Think it thy father's kiss; and I will think I
am kissing my son. Canst thou too weep?

CHARLES. I felt as if it were my father's kiss! Woe unto me, were they
to bring him now!

   (The companions of SCHWEITZER enter in a silent and mournful
   procession, hanging down their heads and hiding their faces.)

CHARLES. Good heaven! (Retreats horror-struck, and seeks to hide
himself. They pass by him his face is averted. Profound silence. They
halt.)

GRIMM (in a subdued tone). My captain!

      [CHARLES does not answer and steps farther back.]

SCHWARZ. Dear captain!

          [CHARLES retreats still farther.]

GRIMM. 'Tis not our fault, captain!

CHARLES (without looking at them). Who are ye?

GRIMM. You do not look at us! Your faithful followers.

CHARLES. Woe to ye, if ye are faithful to me!

GRIMM. The last farewell from your servant Schweitzer!--

CHARLES (starting). Then ye have not found him?

SCHWARZ. Found him dead.

CHARLES (leaping up with joy). Thanks, O Sovereign Ruler of all things!
--Embrace me, my children!--Mercy be henceforward our watchword!--Now,
were that too surmounted,--all would be surmounted.

            Enter ROBBERS with AMELIA.

ROBBERS. Hurrah! hurrah! A prize, a splendid prize!

AMELIA (with hair dishevelled). The dead, they cry, have arisen at his
voice--My uncle alive--in this wood--Where is he? Charles? Uncle!--Ha?
(She rushes into the arms, of OLD MOOR.)

OLD MOOR. Amelia! my daughter! Amelia! (Holds her tightly grasped in
his arms.)

CHARLES (starting back). Who brings this image before my eyes.

AMELIA (tearing herself away from the old man, rushes upon CHARLES, and
embraces him in an ecstasy of delight). I have him, O ye stars! I have
him!

CHARLES (tearing himself away, to the ROBBERS). Let us be gone,
comrades! The arch fiend has betrayed me!

AMELIA. My bridegroom, my bridegroom! thou art raving! Ha! 'Tis with
delight! Why, then, am I so cold, so unfeeling, in the midst of this
tumult of happiness?

OLD MOOR (rousing himself). Bridegroom? Daughter! my daughter! Thy
bridegroom?*

   *[Instead of this the stage edition has, "Come my children! Thy
   hand, Charles--and thine, Amelia. Oh! I never looked for such
   happiness on this side the grave. Here let me unite you forever."]

AMELIA. His forever! He forever, ever, mine! Oh! ye heavenly powers!
support me in this ecstasy of bliss, lest I sink beneath its weight!

CHARLES. Tear her from my neck! Kill her! Kill him! Kill me--
yourselves--everybody! Let the whole world perish! (About to rush of.)

AMELIA. Whither? what? Love! eternity! happiness! never-ending joys!
and thou wouldst fly?

CHARLES. Away, away! most unfortunate of brides! See with thine own
eves; ask, and hear it with thine own ears! Most miserable of fathers!
Let me escape hence forever!

AMELIA. Support me! for heaven's sake support me! It is growing dark
before my eyes! He flies!

CHARLES. Too late! In vain! Your curse, father! Ask me no more!
I am--I have--your curse--your supposed curse! Who enticed me hither?
(Rushing upon the ROBBERS with drawn sword.) Which of you enticed me
hither, ye demons of the abyss? Perish, then, Amelia! Die, father!
Die, for the third time, through me! These, thy deliverers, are Robbers
and Murderers! Thy Charles is their Captain! (OLD MOOR expires.)

     [AMELIA stands silent and transfixed like a statue.
        The whole band are mute. A fearful pause.]

CHARLES (rushing against an oak). The souls of those I have strangled
in the intoxication of love--of those whom I crushed to atoms in the
sacredness of sleep--of those whom--Ha! ha! ha! do you hear the
powder-magazine bursting over the heads of women in travail? Do you see
the flames creeping round the cradles of sucklings? That is our nuptial
torch; those shrieks our wedding music! Oh! he forgetteth none of these
things!--he knoweth how to connect the--links in the chain of life.
Therefore do love's delights elude my grasp; therefore is love given me
for a torment! This is retribution!

AMELIA. 'Tis all true! Thou Ruler in heaven! 'Tis all true! What
have I done, poor innocent lamb? I have loved this man!

CHARLES. This is more than a man can endure. Have I not heard death
hissing at me from more thousands of barrels, and never yet moved a
hair's breadth out of its way. And shall I now be taught to tremble
like a woman? tremble before a woman! No! a woman shall not conquer my
manly courage! Blood! blood! 'tis but a fit of womanish feeling. I
must glut myself with blood; and this will pass away. (He is about to
fly.)

AMELIA (sinking into his arms). Murderer! devil! I cannot--angel--
leave thee!

CHARLES (thrusting her from him). Away! insidious serpent! Thou
wouldst make a mockery of my frenzy; but I will bid defiance to my
tyrant destiny. What! art thou weeping? O ye relentless, malicious
stars! She pretends to weep, as if any soul could weep for me!
(AMELIA falls on his neck.) Ha! what means this? She shuns me not--she
spurns me not. Amelia! hast thou then forgotten? Dost thou remember
whom thou art embracing, Amelia?

AMELIA. My only one, mine, mine forever!

CHARLES (recovering himself in an ecstasy of joy). She forgives me, she
loves me! Then am I pure as the ether of heaven, for she loves me!
With tears I thank thee, all-merciful Father! (He falls on his knees,
and bursts into a violent fit of weeping.) The peace of my soul is
restored; my sufferings are at an end. Hell is no more! Behold! oh
behold! the child of light weeps on the neck of a repentant demon!
(Rising and turning to the ROBBERS). Why are ye not weeping also?
Weep, weep, ye are all so happy. O Amelia! Amelia! Amelia! (He hangs
on her neck, they remain locked in a silent embrace.)

A ROBBER (stepping forward enraged). Hold, traitor! This instant come
from her arms! or I will speak a word that shall make thy ears tingle,
and thy teeth chatter with horror! (He holds his sword between them.)

AN AGED ROBBER. Remember the Bohemian forests! Dost thou hear? dost
thou tremble? Remember the Bohemian forests, I tell thee! Faithless
man! where are thy oaths? Are wounds so soon forgotten? Who staked
fortune, honor, life itself for thee? Who stood by thee like walls, and
like shields caught the blows which were aimed at thy life? Didst not
thou then lift up thy hand and swear an iron oath never to forsake us,
even as we forsook not thee? Base, perfidious wretch! and wouldst thou
now desert us at the whining of a harlot?

A THIRD ROBBER. Shame on thy perjury! The spirit of the immolated
Roller, whom thou didst summon from the realms of death to attest thy
oath, will blush at thy cowardice, and rise from his grave full armed to
chastise thee.

THE ROBBERS (all in disorder, tearing open their garments). See here!
and here! Dost thou know these scars? Thou art ours! With our heart's
blood we have bought thee, and thou art ours bodily, even though the
Archangel Michael should seek to wrest thee out of the grasp of the
fiery Moloch! Now! March with us! Sacrifice for sacrifice, Amelia for
the band!

CHARLES (releasing her hand). It is past! I would arise and return to
my father; but heaven has said, "It shall not be!" (Coldly.) Blind fool
that I was! why should I wish it? Is it possible for a great sinner to
return? A great sinner never can return. That ought I long since to
have known. Be still! I pray thee be still! 'Tis all as it should be.
When He sought me I would not; now that I seek him, He will not. What
can be more just? Do not roll about thine eyes so wildly. He--has no
need of me. Has He not creatures in abundance? One he can easily
spare, and that one am I. Come along, comrades!

AMELIA (pulling him back). Stay, I beseech you! One blow! one deadly
blow! Again forsaken! Draw thy sword, and have mercy upon me!

CHARLES. Mercy has taken refuge among bears. I will not kill thee!

AMELIA (embracing his knees). Oh, for heaven's sake! by all that is
merciful! I ask no longer for love. I know that our stars fly from
each other in opposition. Death is all I ask. Forsaken, forsaken!
Take that word in all its dreadful import! Forsaken! I cannot survive
it! Thou knowest well that no woman can survive that. All I ask is
death. See, my hand trembles! I have not courage to strike the blow.
I shrink from the gleaming blade! To thee it is so easy, so very easy;
thou art a master in murder--draw thy sword, and make me happy!

CHARLES. Wouldst thou alone be happy? Away with thee! I will kill no
woman!

AMELIA. Ha! destroyer! thou canst only kill the happy; they who are
weary of existence thou sparest! (She glides towards the robbers.) Then
do ye have mercy on me, disciples of murder! There lurks a bloodthirsty
pity in your looks that is consoling to the wretched. Your master is a
boaster and a coward.

CHARLES. Woman, what dost thou say? (The ROBBERS turn away.)

AMELIA. No friend? No; not even among these a friend? (She rises.)
Well, then, let Dido teach me how to die! (She is going; a ROBBER takes
aim at her.)

CHARLES. Hold! dare it! Moor's Amelia shall die by no other hand than
Moor's. (He strikes her dead.)

THE ROBBERS. Captain! captain! what hast thou done? Art thou raving?

CHARLES (with his eyes fixed on the body). One more pang and all will
be over. She is immolated! Now, look on! have you any farther demand?
Ye staked a life for me, a life which has ceased to be your own--a life
full of infamy and shame! I have sacrificed an angel for you. Now!
look upon her! Are you content?

GRIMM. You have repaid your debt with usury. You have done all that man
could do for his honor, and more. Now let's away.

CHARLES. What say you? Is not the life of a saint for the life of a
felon more than an equal exchange? Oh! I say unto you if every one of
you were to--mount the scaffold, and to have his flesh torn from his
bones piecemeal with red-hot pincers, through eleven long summer days of
torture, yet would it not counterbalance these tears! (With a bitter
laugh.) The scars! the Bohemian forests! Yes, yes! they must be
repaid, of course!

SCHWARZ. Compose yourself, captain! Come along with us! this is no
sight for you. Lead us elsewhere!

CHARLES. Stay! one word more before we proceed elsewhere. Mark me, ye
malicious executioners of my barbarous nod! from this moment I cease to
be your captain.*

   *[The acting edition reads,--"Banditti! we are quits. This
   bleeding corpse cancels my bond to you forever. From your own I
   set you free." ROBBERS. "We are again your slaves till death!"
   CHARLES. "No, no, no! We have done with each other. My genius
   whispers me, 'Go no further, Moor. Here is the goal of humanity--
   and thine!' Take back this bloody plume (throws it at their feet).
   Let him who seeks to be your captain take it up."]

With shame and horror I here lay down the bloody staff, under which you
thought yourselves licensed to perpetrate your crimes and to defile the
fair light of heaven with deeds of darkness. Depart to the right and to
the left. We shall never more have aught in common.

THE ROBBERS. Ha! coward! where are thy lofty schemes? were they but
soap-bubbles, which disperse at the breath of a woman?*


   *[In lieu of this soliloquy and what follows, to the end, the
   acting edition has:--

   R. MOOR. Dare not to scrutinize the acts of Moor. That is my last
   command. Now, draw near--form a circle around me, and receive the
   last words of your dying captain. (He surveys them attentively for
   some time.) You have been devotedly faithful to me, faithful
   beyond example. Had virtue bound you together as firmly as vice,
   you would have been heroes, and your names recorded by mankind with
   admiration. Go and offer your services to the state. Dedicate
   your talents to the cause of a monarch who is waging war in
   vindication of the rights of man. With this blessing I disband
   you. Schweitzer and Kosinsky, do you stay. (The others disperse
   slowly, with signs of emotion.)]



                SCENE VIII.



          R. MOOR, SCRWETTZER, and KOSINSKY.

   R. MOOR. Give me thy right hand, Kosinsky--Schweitzer thy left.
   (He takes their hands, and stands between, them; to KOSINSKY,)
   Young man, thou art still pure-amongst the guilty thou alone art
   guiltless! (To SCHWEITZER.) Deeply have I imbrued thy hand in
   blood. 'Tis I who have done this. With this cordial grasp I take
   back mine own. Schweitzer! thou art purified! (He raises their
   hands fervently to heaven.) Father in heaven! here I restore them
   to thee. They will be more devoted to thy service than those who
   never fell. Of that I feel assured. (SCHWEITZER and KOSINSKY fall
   on his neck with fervor.) Not now--not now, dear comrades. Spare
   my feelings in this trying hour. An earldom has this day fallen to
   my lot--a rich domain on which no malediction rests. Share it
   between you, my children; become good citizens; and if for ten
   human beings that I have destroyed you make but one happy, my soul
   may yet be saved. Go--no farewell! In another world we may meet
   again--or perhaps no more. Away! away! ere my fortitude desert me.
               [Exeunt both, with downcast countenances.]


                SCENE IX.

   And I, too, am a good citizen. Do I not fulfil the extremity of
   the law? Do I not honor the law? Do I not uphold and defend it?
   I remember speaking to a poor officer on my way hither, who was
   toiling as a day-laborer, and has eleven living children. A
   thousand ducats have been offered to whoever shall deliver up the
   great robber alive. That man shall be served. [Exit.]


CHARLES. Oh! fool that I was, to fancy that I could amend the world by
misdeeds and maintain law by lawlessness! I called it vengeance and
equity. I presumed, O Providence! upon whetting out the notches of thy
sword and repairing thy partialities. But, oh, vain trifling! here I
stand on the brink of a fearful life, and learn, with wailing and
gnashing of teeth, that two men like myself could ruin the whole edifice
of the moral world. Pardon--pardon the boy who thought to forestall
Thee; to Thee alone belongeth vengeance; Thou needest not the hand of
man! But it is not in my power to recall the past; that which is ruined
remains ruined; what I have thrown down will never more rise up again.
Yet one thing is left me whereby I may atone to the offended majesty of
the law and restore the order which I have violated. A victim is
required--a victim to declare before all mankind how inviolable that
majesty is--that victim shall be myself. I will be the death-offering!

ROBBERS. Take his sword from him--he will kill himself.

CHARLES. Fools that ye are! doomed to eternal blindness! Think ye
that one mortal sin will expiate other mortal sins? Do you suppose that
the harmony of the world would be promoted by such an impious discord?
(Throwing his arms at their feet.) He shall have me alive. I go to
deliver myself into the hands of justice.

ROBBERS. Put him in chains! he has lost his senses!

CHARLES. Not that I have any doubt but that justice would find me
speedily enough if the powers above so ordained it. But she might
surprise me in sleep, or overtake me in flight, or seize me with
violence and the sword, and then I should have lost the only merit left
me, that of making my death a free-will atonement. Why should I, like a
thief, any longer conceal a life, which in the counsels of the heavenly
ministry has long been forfeited?

ROBBERS. Let him go. He is infected with the great-man-mania; he means
to offer up his life for empty admiration.

CHARLES. I might, 'tis true, be admired for it. (After a moment's
reflection.) I remember, on my way hither, talking to a poor creature,
a day-laborer, with eleven living children. A reward has been offered
of a thousand louis-d'ors to any one who shall deliver up the great
robber alive. That man shall be served.
                              [Exit.]