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THE ROBBERS
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Amelia.

(Tenderly.) And if you should be faithless; if you should seek to ruin, to betray this weak, this woman's heart.—But how can falsehood dwell in eyes that look like his—that seem his own reflected?—And yet, O better it were so—and thou wert false, that I might hate thee! And yet more wretched still, should I not love thee! (Moor presses her hand to his lips with ardour.) Thy kisses burn like fire.

Moor.

'Tis my soul that burns in them!

Amelia.

Go! leave me—while it is not too late.—There is fortitude in a man's bosom.—Show that thou hast that strength of mind, and share it with me!

Moor.

Can he show fortitude who sees thee tremble?—No, here I fix me fast. (Embraces her, and lays his head on her bosom.) Here I will die!

Amelia.

(In great confusion.) Away! leave me! What have you done? Away with those lips. (She

struggles

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