HARRAS.
He's bleeding fast to death.
Away, for help—pursue the murderer!
Unhappy man, is this to be your end?
You would not listen to my warning words.
STUSSI.
By Heaven, his cheek is pale! Life's ebbing fast.
MANY VOICES.
Who did the deed?
HARRAS.
What! Are the people mad,
That they make music to a murder? Silence!
[Music breaks off suddenly. People continue to flock in.]
Speak, if you can, my lord. Have you no charge
To trust me with?