Page:The robbers - a tragedy (IA robberstragedy00schiiala).pdf/84
thence over the garden-wall.—As for the winding up of the plot, leave that to me!
Herman.
And then it will be, "Long live our new master, our noble Lord, Francis de Moor!"
Francis.
(Patting him on the cheek.) Ha! what a cunning rogue you are—you see it at the first glance! For look'ye how sure and how quick the project works—Amelia's hopes are gone at once—The old man lays his son's death at his own door—he falls sick—A tottering house does not need an earthquake to bring it down—He'll never outlive your intelligence—Then—then I am his only son—Amelia has lost every support, and is the plaything of my will—Then you may easily guess what follows—you—in short all goes to a wish.—But you must not flinch from your word!
Herman.
Flinch! did you say?—The ball might as soon fly back to the cannon!—you may depend on me. Farewel.
Francis.