HERMANN (as before, with his back turned on FRANCIS). "Amelia will become the plaything of my will--and you may easily guess the rest-in short all will go as we wish" (Breaks into an indignant laugh, and then turns haughtily to FRANCIS.) Now, Count von Moor, what have you to say to me? FRANCIS (evasively). To thee? Nothing. I had something to say to Hermann.-- HERMANN, No evasion. Why was I sent for hither? Was it to be your dupe a second time! and to hold the ladder for a thief to mount? to sell my soul for a hangman s fee? What else did you want with me? FRANCIS (as if recollecting). Ha! It just occurs to me! We must not forget the main point. Did not my steward mention it to you? I wanted to talk to you about the dowry. HERMANN. This is mere mockery sir; or, if not mockery, something worse. Moor, take care of yourself-beware how you kindle my fury, Moor. We are alone! And I have still an unsullied name to stake against yours! Trust not the devil, although he be of your own raising. FRANCIS (with dignity). Does this deportment become thee towards thy sovereign and gracious master? Tremble, slave! HERMANN (ironically). For fear of your displeasure, I suppose? What signifies your displeasure to a man who is at war with himself? Fie, Moor. I already abhor you as a villain; let me not despise you for a fool. I can open graves, and restore the dead to life! Which of us now is the slave? FRANCIS (in a conciliating tone). Come, my good friend, be discreet, and do not prove faithless. HERMANN. Pshaw! To expose a wretch like you is here the best discretion--to keep faith with you would be an utter want of sense. Faith? with whom? Faith with the prince of liars? Oh, I shudder at the thought of such faith. A very little timely faithlessness would have almost made a saint of me. But patience! patience! Revenge is cunning in resources. FRANCIS. Ah, by-the-by, I just remember. You lately lost a purse with a hundred louis in it, in this apartment. I had almost forgotten it. Here, my good friend! take back what belongs to you. (Offers him a purse). HERMANN (throws it scornfully at his feet). A curse on your Judas bribe! It is the earnest-money of hell. You once before thought to make my poverty a pander to my conscience--but you were mistaken, count! egregiously mistaken. That purse of gold came most opportunely--to maintain certain persons. FRANCIS (terrified). Hermann! Hermann! Let me not suspect certain things of you. Should you have done anything contrary to my instructions--you would be the vilest of traitors! HERMANN (exultingly). Should I? Should I really? Well then count, let me give you a little piece of information! (Significantly.) I will fatten up your infamy, and add fuel to your doom. The book of your misdeeds shall one day be served up as a banquet, and all the world be invited to partake of it. (Contemptuously.) Do you understand me now, my most sovereign, gracious, and excellent master?