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THE ROBBERS.
197

O. Moor.

What is't you mutter there?—'tis horrible!—

Moor.

I say my prayers! (The wild music of the Robbers is heard.)

O. Moor.

O think of Francis in your prayers!

Moor.

(In a voice choked with rage.) He is not forgotten!———

O. Moor.

That's not the voice of one who prays!—O cease!—Such prayers make me all shudder!—

(Enter Switzer with a party of Robbers:—Francis de Moor, handcuffed, in the middle of them.)

Switzer.

Triumph! Captain.—Here he is!—I have fulfilled my word.

Grimm.

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