Old Moor monologue (Act 4) — The Robbers

Oh, that it were so! But hear me on, and restrain your rage! There I lay for twenty hours, and not a soul cared for my misery. No human footstep treads this solitary wild, for 'tis commonly believed that the ghosts of my ancestors drag clanking chains through these ruins, and chant their funeral dirge at the hour of midnight. At last I heard the door creak again on its hinges; this man opened it, and brought me bread and water. He told me that I had been condemned to die of hunger, and that his life was in danger should it be discovered that he fed me. Thus has my miserable existence been till now sustained--but the unceasing cold--the foul air of my filthy dungeon--my incurable grief--have exhausted my strength, and reduced my body to a skeleton. A thousand times have I implored heaven, with tears, to put an end to my sufferings--but doubtless the measure of my punishment is not fulfilled,--or some happiness must be yet in store for me, for which he deigns thus miraculously to preserve me. But I suffer justly--my Charles! my Charles!--and before there was even a gray hair on his Head!