I’ the battle’s front—ye know me! ye have seen
The fiery joy of danger bear me on
As a wind the arrow! Leave me now—’tis past!
Rai. (with bitterness.) He comes from her!—the infidel hath smiled,
Doubtless, for this.
Aym. I should have been to-day
Where shafts fly thickest, and the crossing swords
Cannot flash out for blood!—Hark! you are call’d!
[Wild Turkish music heard without. The background of the scene becomes more and more crowded with armed men.
Lay lance in rest!—wave, noble banners! wave!