Daniel monologue (Act 4) — The Robbers

Oh, fie! fie! It is not pretty of you to make game of an old servant. That scar! Eh! do you remember it? Good Heaven! what a fright you put me into--I always loved you so dearly; and what misery you might have brought upon me. You were sitting in my lap--do you remember? there in the round chamber. Has all that quite vanished from your memory--and the cuckoo, too, that you were so fond of listening to? Only think! the cuckoo is broken, broken all to shivers--old Susan smashed it in sweeping the room--yes, indeed, and there you sat in my lap, and cried, "Cockhorse!" and I ran off to fetch your wooden horse-- mercy on me! what business had I, thoughtless old fool, to leave you alone--and how I felt as if I were in a boiling caldron when I heard you screaming in the passage; and, when I rushed in, there was your red blood gushing forth, and you lying on the ground. Oh, by the Blessed Virgin! did I not feel as if a bucket of icy cold water was emptied all over me?--but so it happens, unless one keeps all one's eyes upon children. Good Heaven! if it had gone into your eye! Unfortunately it happened to be the right hand. "As long as I live," said I, "never again shall any child in my charge get hold of a knife or scissors, or any other edge tool." 'Twas lucky for me that both my master and mistress were gone on a journey. "Yes, yes! this shall be a warning to me for the rest of my life," said I--Gemini, Gemini! I might have lost my place, I might--God forgive you, you naughty boy--but, thank Heaven! it healed fairly, all but that ugly scar.