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THE ROBBERS.

Grimm.

We tore him out of the flames of his castle:—His vassals all took to flight.

Kozinski

The castle is in ashes—and even the memory of his name annihilated. (A dreadful pause.—Moor comes slowly forward.)

Moor.

(With a stern voice to Francis.) Dost thou know me?

Francis.

(Without answering, fixes his eyes immoveably on the ground, while Charles leads him towards the old man.) Dost thou know that man?

Francis.

(Starting back with horror.) Thunder of heaven! It is my father!

O. Moor.

(Turns away shuddering.) Go! May God forgive you.—I have forgotten——

Moor.

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