AMELIA (perceiving the ring upon her finger, starts up from the
couch). What! Art thou still there-on that guilty hand? Witness
of my perjury. Away with thee! (She pulls the ring from her
finger and gives it to CHARLES.) Take it-take it, beloved
seducer! and with it what I hold most sacred-take my all-my
Charles! (She falls back upon the couch.)
MOOR (changes color). O thou Most High! was this thy almighty
will? It is the very ring I gave her in pledge of our mutual
faith. Hell be the grave of love! She has returned my ring.
AMELIA (terrified). Heavens! What is the matter? Your eyes roll
wildly, and your lips are pale as death! Ah! woe is me. And are
the pleasures of thy crime so soon forgotten?
MOOR (suppressing his emotion). 'Tis nothing! Nothing! (Raising
his eyes to heaven.) I am still a man! (He takes of his own ring
and puts it on AMELIA'S finger.) In return take this! sweet fury of
my heart! And with it what I hold most sacred-take my all-my
Amelia!
AMELIA (starting up). Your Amelia!
MOOR (mournfully). Oh, she was such a lovely maiden, and faithful
as an angel. When we parted we exchanged rings, and vowed eternal
constancy. She heard that I was dead-believed it-yet remained
constant to the dead. She heard again that I was living-yet
became faithless to the living. I flew into her arms-was happy
as-the blest in Paradise. Think what my heart was doomed to feel,
Amelia! She gave me back my ring-she took her own.
AMELIA (her eyes fixed on the earth in amazement). 'Tis strange,
most strange! 'Tis horrible!
MOOR. Ay, strange and horrible! My child, there is much-ay, much
for man to learn ere his poor intellect can fathom the decrees of
Him who smiles at human vows and weeps at human projects. My
Amelia is an unfortunate maiden!
AMELIA. Unfortunate! Because she rejected you?
MOOR. Unfortunate. Because she embraced the man she betrayed.
AMELIA (with melancholy tenderness). Oh, then, she is indeed
unfortunate! From my soul I pity her! She shall be my sister.
But there is another and a better world."
CHARLES. He is no more?
AMELIA. He sails on troubled seas-Amelia's love sails with him. He wanders through pathless, sandy deserts-Amelia's love clothes the burning sand with verdure, and the barren shrubs with flowers. Southern suits scorch his bare head, northern snows pinch his feet, tempestuous hail beats down on his temples, but Amelia's love lulls him to sleep in the midst of the storm. Seas, and mountains, and skies, divide the lovers-but their souls rise above this prison-house of clay, and meet in the paradise of love. You appear sad, count!
CHARLES. These words of love rekindle my love.
AMELIA (pale). What? You love another? Alas! what have I said?
CHARLES. She believed me dead, and in my supposed death she remained faithful to me-she heard again that I was alive, and she sacrificed for me the crown of a saint. She knows that I am wandering in deserts, and roaming about in misery, yet her love follows me on wings through deserts and through misery. Her name, too, like yours, is Amelia.
AMELIA. How I envy your Amelia!
CHARLES. Oh, she is an unhappy maid. Her love is fixed upon one who is lost-and it can never-never be rewarded.
AMELIA. Say not so! It will be rewarded in heaven. Is it not agreed that there is a better world, where mourners rejoice, and where lovers meet again?
CHARLES. Yes, a world where the veil is lifted-where the phantom love will make terrible discoveries-Eternity is its name. My Amelia is an unhappy maid.
AMELIA. Unhappy, and loves you?*
*[In the acting edition the scene closes with a different
denouement. Amelia here says, "Are all unhappy who live with you,
and bear the name of Amelia.
"CHARLES. Yes, all-when they think they embrace an angel, and
find in their arms-a murderer. Alas, for my Amelia! She is
indeed unfortunate.
"AMELIA (with an expression of deep affliction). Oh, I must weep
for her.
"CHARLES (grasping her hand, and pointing to the ring). Weep for
thyself.
"AMELIA (recognizing the ring). Charles! Charles! O heaven and
earth!
(She sinks fainting; the scene closes.)"]
CHARLES. Unhappy, because she loves me! What if I were a murderer? How, Lady Amelia, if your lover could reckon you up a murder for every one of your kisses? Woe to my Amelia! She is an unhappy maid.
AMELIA (gayly rising). Ha! What a happy maid am I! My only one is a reflection of Deity, and Deity is mercy and compassion! He could not bear to see a fly suffer. His soul is as far from every thought of blood as the sun is from the moon. (CHARLES suddenly turns away into a thicket, and looks wildly out into the landscape. AMELIA sings, playing the guitar.)
Oh! Hector, wilt thou go forevermore,
Where fierce Achilles, on the blood-stained shore,
Heaps countless victims o'er Patroclus' grave?
Who then thy hapless orphan boy will rear,
Teach him to praise the gods and hurl the spear,
When thou art swallowed up in Xanthus' wave?
CHARLES (silently tunes the guitar, and plays).
Beloved wife!-stern duty calls to arms
Go, fetch my lance! and cease those vain alarms!
[He flings the guitar away, and rushes off.]
SCENE V.-A neighboring forest. Night. An old ruined castle in the centre of the scene.
The band of ROBBERS encamped on the ground.
The ROBBERS singing.
To rob, to kill, to wench, to fight,
Our pastime is, and daily sport;
The gibbet claims us morn and night,
So let's be jolly, time is short.
A merry life we lead, and free,
A life of endless fun;
Our couch is 'neath the greenwood tree,
Through wind and storm we gain our fee,
The moon we make our sun.
Old Mercury is our patron true,
And a capital chap for helping us through.
To-day we make the abbot our host,
The farmer rich to-morrow;
And where we shall get our next day's roast,
Gives us nor care nor sorrow.
And, when with Rhenish and rare Moselle
Our throats we have been oiling,
Our courage burns with a fiercer swell,
And we're hand and glove with the Lord of Hell,
Who down in his flames is broiling.
For fathers slain the orphans' cries,
The widowed mothers' moan and wail,
Of brides bereaved the whimpering sighs,
Like music sweet, our ears regale.
Beneath the axe to see them writhe,
Bellow like calves, fall dead like flies;
Such bonny sights, and sounds so blithe,
With rapture fill our eats and eyes.
And when at last our death-knell rings-
The devil take that hour!
Payment in full the hangman brings,
And off the stage we scour.
On the road a glass of good liquor or so,
Then hip! hip! hip! and away we go!
SCHWEITZER. The night is far advanced, and the captain has not yet returned.
RAZ. And yet he promised to be back before the clock struck eight.
SCHWEITZER. Should any harm have befallen him, comrades, wouldn't we kindle fires! ay, and murder sucking babes?
SPIEGEL. (takes RAZMANN aside). A word in your ear, Razmann!
SCHWARZ (to GRIMM). Should we not send out scouts?
GRIMM. Let him alone. He no doubt has some feat in hand that will put us to shame.
SCHWEITZER. Then you are out, by old Harry! He did not part from us like one that had any masterpiece of roguery in view. Have you forgotten what he said as he marched us across the heath? "The fellow that takes so much as a turnip out of a field, if I know it, leaves his head behind him, as true as my name is Moor." We dare not plunder.