Aym. Part!—yes, I know it all! I could not go
Till I had seen you! Give me one farewell,
The last—perchance the last!—but one farewell,
Whose mournful music I may take with me
Through tumult, horror, death!
[A distant sound of trumpets.
Mor. (starting.) You go to battle!
Aym. Hear you not that sound?
Yes! I go there, where dark and stormy thoughts
Find their free path!