Page:The robbers - a tragedy (IA robberstragedy00schiiala).pdf/191

This page has been validated.
THE ROBBERS.
167

Moor.

I'll have an answer. (Strikes the sword out of his hand.) What boots this childish sword-play? Didst thou not speak of vengeance?—Vengeance belongs exclusively to me—of all the men of earth.—Who dares infringe my rights?

Herman.

By heaven! 'tis none of woman born—for that arm withers like the stroke of death.

Voice.

Alas, Herman! is it you who are speaking?—Whom do you speak to?

Moor.

What! still those sounds?—What is a-doing here? (Runs towards the tower.) Some horrible mystery, for certain, is conceal'd in that tower. This sword shall bring it to light.

Herman.

(Comes forward trembling.) Terrible stranger! art thou the wandering spirit of this desert—or perhaps one of the ministers of that unfathomable retribution, who make their circuit in this

lower

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.