PAMMERSTEIN, afterwards HARLEQUIN, Captain of the Robbers.
HANS, or LITTLE JACK, afterwards PANTALOON, a degraded Robber.
GRIME, afterwards CLOWN, a discontented Robber.

FUCHSEN-MAUL, afterwards SCARAMOUCH, a grasping Robber.

RIBALDO, afterwards SPRITE, an impudent Robber.

BREWIS, afterwards JEAMES, a respectable Robber.

RALPHO, a comic Robber.

BEETLE, a prosing Robber.

HALLE, an insignificant Robber.

Various other ROBBERS of inferior character.

CRANULA, afterwards COLUMBINE, a very old woman, Housekeeper to the Robbers.
ATE, The Witch of Discord.

SHODDY, a Demon.

Subordinate Characters in Pantomime.

FIGS, a Grocer. An OGRE. STILETTO, COSPETTO, and MALEDETTO, Refugees. Old GENTLEMAN. Old LADY. EX-PRESIDENT of the Peace Society. SOLDIERS. LAZZARONI, CHINESE. POSTMAN. &c. &c.

"Go forth," she said, "my pretty one, go forth,
And win new realms of discord for thy dam.
Be thou to all men as a blazing torch
That scatters scalding venom far and near;
Or as the pestilential fog at eve

That slowly creeps along the labourers' field,
And sours the harvest with its withering blight.
Go forth, my Hans, and be the robbers' king!"
And I went forth, and was the robbers' king.
Have I not plundered churches by the score,
Ransacked the hoards of thrifty husbandmen,
Stripped henroosts of their silly fowls, and given
The flaming stackyards to the midnight storm?
Have I not set fast brothers by the ears,
Yea, made them loathers of their kindred flesh,
And slipped stilettoes into griping hands?
Have I not sometimes backed the prurient monk,
And sometimes roused the reformado's zeal ?
And have I not, in piping times of peace,
Beset the highways with my thimble board,
And fleeced the unwary traveller of his coin?
What am I now? a poor degraded man,
An understrapper of the thievish band-
Cozened, neglected, laughed at-made the scorn
Of base companions whom I whilome led,
And all through that arch-villain, Pammerstein !
I will have vengeance, vengeance!
Here she dwells.
There hang the filthy bats above her cave,
And screech-owls hoot within the poison-tree.
O mother Até ! hear me, and come forth!

Enter ATE from the Cavern.
Who is this? who calls on me?
Ha! my dainty son! I see,
Years have scarcely altered thee.

Still the same in mind and feature,

Still the same engaging creature.

What is't brings thee, darling Hanschen,

To thine aged mother's mansion!
Aid or counsel dost thou lack ?

Tell me all, my little Jack!

ATE.

Cut it short! I know the rest-
Listen to me you had best.
Though I cannot give you aid,
Be not doubtful or afraid.
This old heart of mine it cheers,
When I see my pretty dears
Tearing at each others' ears!

Seek thou some renowned magician—
Seek the powerful demon, SHODDY!

HANS.

Horror! that way lies perdition!
Shall I peril soul and body?

ATE.

That's a point for you to settle.
But my snakes are round me coiling;
And I fear, within, my kettle
With Whig-broth is overboiling.

Hark! I hear the embers hissing

Farewell, Hans, and take my blessing!

HANS.

Avaunt, foul witch -O that I had been born
To gain my livelihood by honest toil,
To wield the spade, to guide the stilted plough,
Within the entrails of the earth to creep,
In search of riches from the fertile mines;
Or in my country's cause to beat the drum,
Or force shrill music from Bellona's fife,

Since strength and stature fail me for the spear
Cursed ambition, thou hast been my bane!
Now must I onward-onward to revenge,

!

[Exit ATE.

Yea, though I league with fiends, and write my name
Within the scrolls of blazing Tartarus-

I will have vengeance! Shoddy-I am thine!

SCENE II.

[Exit HANS.

Hall in Pammerstein's Castle. The ROBBERS carousing.

ROBBERS.

Ha, ha, ha! very good, Ribaldo! Excellent! bravo! capital! first-rate !

PAMMERSTEIN.

And whom saw you else at Nuremberg, Ribaldo? Wet your whistle, my lad, and tell us all about it.

RIBALDO.

Why, there was another fellow there, a burgomaster, who strutted about like a cock-and yet not like a cock either, but like one of your turkeycocks, with a red comb and wattles. My eye! how he did gobble! Old chap, thinks I, if I got hold of you at Christmas time, wouldn't I have your feathers off, your fat legs skewered, your carcass stuffed with truffles, and a chain of sausages doubled round your neck, for all the world like an alderman's collar!

Ha, ha, ha!

OMNES.

PAMMERSTEIN.

Funny rogue-funny rogue! Any one else worth queering?

RIBALDO.

Ay, there was a French Count-a real swell, quite a spick and span man, with the true Jerusalem toggery. I was doing a bit of business in turquoises at a jeweller's-half buying, half prigging-when I sees my hairy top-sawyer

at work in a picture-dealer's shop right opposite. Oho! thinks I, here's summat going on; so I kept half an eye upon him-I couldn't do more, for the jeweller was beginning to look awake-and I'm blowed if I didn't see him whip a picture out of its frame, as neat as ninepence, stuff it into his coat-pocket, and walk off as cool as a cucumber, smoking a halfpenny cigar.

PAMMERSTEIN.

Ha, ha, ho! This boy will be the death of me! But what art thou doing, Brewis? Hast got the colic, man, that thou lookest both blue and yellow?

BREWIS.

I am trying to make up our accounts, noble captain. But, by the fackens, I am many dollars short.

PAMMERSTEIN.

Tush, man, what of that? Is there not the country-side to lay under contribution? What matters it counting the number of drops that go to a bloodletting? Drink, ho, and hang the dollars! But let us see how business goes. Whose turn was it to go out yesterday? Thine, Fuchsen-maul ?

FUCHSEN-MAUL.

My turn it was, noble captain; but, 'uds daggers! this plaguy gout has so swelled my toes that I can hardly limp. But what of that? There's a tight young lad, a nevoy of my own, whom I will back to strip a passenger as cleanly as any man alive, if so be that he is provided for. Heigho! I fear my time is nearly up. I shall hop the twig, as one may say, a victim in the cause of plunder. But when I am dead and gone, I hope you'll take care of Dobbin.

PAMMERSTEIN.

Don't be downhearted, my fine old malefactor! You are game for a swearing-bout for the next twenty years. As for your nephew, never fear. I'll look after him. Some old fellows must be sent to the right-about by-andby, and then comes his turn. I like to encourage rising ambition. But, I say, you seem melancholy, lads. Let's have a song. Come, Ribaldo, tune your pipes.

RIBALDO.

Shall it be a sea-song or a land-song?

PAMMERSTEIN.

Why, considering that you know as much about sea-matters as a billy-goat does about razors, you may tip us one of the former.

Well, then, here goes. (Sings.)

RIBALDO.

There was a jolly admiral

And he lived in his ship,
And every day ere breakfast-time
He quaffed his can of flip.
He swallowed down his rumbo,
And stiffest grog also,

And called upon his mariners

To yo, heave, yo !

On board that ship a jack-an-ape

Was rated, do ye see;

And up the shrouds or on the yards

Still skipped and scrambled he,

And ever as the admiral

Was pacing down below,

He chattered at the fine old salt,
And mocked his yo, heave, yo!

I forget the rest of it.

he jumped into the sea.

But the jack-an-ape drove the old man mad, and
I'll sing it to you some other time.

BREWIS.

Then let it be when I am abroad, I beseech thee, good Ribaldo!