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THE ROBBERS.

—You thought to make my poverty a pander to my conscience!—But there you are soil'd, Sir, thrown out entirely.—Another purse of gold you know of may help to maintain certain folks—to furnish sustenance for———

Francis.

(With a countenance expressive of fear.) Herman, Herman! don't make me think you a traitor.—Were you to make any other use of that money than you ought to do—you were the vilest of traitors.

Herman.

(Triumphantly.) Ay truly! say you so? then know, Count Moor—I will enhance your shame—double your mess of infamy—I will prepare a banquet for you, where the whole world shall be the guests!—You understand me now, Sir—my most revered, most gracious master!

Francis.

(Quite disconcerted.) Ha! devil! Curst impostor! (Striking his forehead.) Beast that I was, to stake my fortune on a fool's caprice! 'Twas brutish!——

Herman.

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