Page:The robbers - a tragedy (IA robberstragedy00schiiala).pdf/98
blood—yes, on the awful brink of eternity he wrote it!
Amelia.
Almighty God! it is his hand.—Oh! he never loved me!
(Exit.
Francis.
(Stamping with his feet.) Damnation! he has a heart of adamant! thus buffetted, and yet unbroken—all my art is lost upon him!
O. Moor.
O misery! My child, my daughter, do not abandon me! (To Francis.) Wretch! give me back my son!
Francis.
Who was it that gave him his malediction?—who was it that made him rush on battle and on death?—who drove him to despair?—Oh! he was a charming youth! a curse upon his murderers!
O. Moor.
(Beating his breast and forehead.) A curse! a curse! curse on the father who murdered his own son! I am that cursed father! He loved me, even in death! To expiate my vengeance, he rush'd on battle and on death!—Monster that I am! Oh monster!
Francis.