Page:The robbers - a tragedy (IA robberstragedy00schiiala).pdf/86
SCENE, Count de Moor's Bed-chamber.
The Count asleep, Amelia.
Amelia.
Softly,—oh, softly,—he is asleep. (She stops and looks at him.) How good! how venerable!—Such is the countenance with which they paint the blessed saints!—Angry with thee! Oh no—with that gray head! Oh never, never! (She scatters a bunch of roses upon the bed.)—Sweet be thy slumber, as the roses sweet perfume. May the image of Charles visit you in your dreams! May you wake in a bed of roses!—I too will go sleep amidst perfumes;—mine is the Rosemary. (She goes a few steps.)
O. Moor.
(In his sleep.) My Charles! my Charles! my Charles!
Amelia.
Hark! His guardian angel has heard my prayer! (Coming near him.) 'Tis sweet to breathe the air in which his name was uttered.—I'll stay here.
O. Moor.