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THE ROBBERS.

Moor.

(With sternness.) Wouldst thou alone be happy? Begone! I cannot kill a woman!

Amelia.

Murderer! thou kill'st the happy only—but the wretch who longs for death, thy barbarous pity spares. (To the band.) Have mercy on me! kindest ministers of death!—O pity me! Yes, those savage looks are comfort to the wretch!—They thirst for blood.—Dispatch me quick!—In mercy kill me! Your master is a coward—a mere braggart! (Some of the Robbers present their pieces at her.)

Moor.

(In fury.) Begone, you harpies! (Places himself between them and Amelia.) Dare but a soul of you to violate this sanctuary!—She is mine! (Encircling her waste with his arm.) Let heaven and hell combine their powers to force her from this hold!—Love is above all oaths! (He lifts her from the ground, and shews her triumphantly to all the band.) What Nature has united, who shall dare to part?

The

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