Elm. Look on me yet!
Speak one farewell, my husband!—must thy voice
Enter my soul no more! Thine eye is fix’d—
Now is my life uprooted—and ’tis well.
[A sound of triumphant music is heard, and many Castilian Knights and Soldiers enter.]
A Cit. Hush your triumphal sounds, although ye come
E’en as deliverers! But the noble dead,
And those that mourn them, claim from human hearts
Deep silent reverence.
Elm. (rising proudly.) No, swell forth, Castile!