And unattainted fame which wraps the dust
Of thine heroic fathers——
Elm. This to me!
—Bring your inspiring war-notes, and your sounds
Of festal music round a dying man!
Will his heart echo them? But if thy words
Were spells, to call up, with each lofty tone,
The grave’s most awful spirits, they would stand
Powerless, before my anguish!
Gon. Then, by her,