Page:The robbers - a tragedy (IA robberstragedy00schiiala).pdf/111
Schufterle.
Pah! pah! what signifies all that?—Indeed, if they had been men—but they were babies in leading-strings, mere bantlings—or old Mother Shiptons, their nurses—and perhaps a few poor atomies that had not strength to crawl to their doors.—All that had any soul or spirit in them were at the show.—'Twas the mere scum, the dregs, that staid at home.
Moor.
Poor wretches! the old, the decrepid, and the infants!
Schufterle.
Ay, devil burn 'em! a few sick wretches too—women in labour, perhaps, or just at the down-lying.—Ha! ha! in passing one of those little barracks, I heard some squalling—I peep'd in, and what do you think it was? a child, a stout little rogue, that lay on the floor beneath a table, and the fire just catching it!—Poor little fellow, said I, you are starving for cold there—and so I chuck'd him into the fire!
Moor.
Did you so, Schufterle? May that fire consume
you,