THE PRINCE. Has my ordeal's final hour struck?
STRANZ (as he draws the bandage from the PRINCE's eyes).
Indeed! Be blest, for well you merit it!
[The ELECTOR gives the wreath, from which the chain is hanging, to the PRINCESS, takes her hand and leads her down from the terrace. Ladies and gentlemen follow. Surrounded by torches, the PRINCESS approaches the PRINCE, who looks up in amazement; sets the wreath on his head, the chain about his neck and presses his hand to her breast. The PRINCE tumbles in a faint.]
NATALIE. Heaven! The joy has killed him!
HOHENZOLLERN (raising him). Help, bring help!
ELECTOR. Let him be wakened by the cannons' thunder!
[Artillery fire. A march. The Castle is illuminated.]
KOTTWITZ. Hail, hail, the Prince of Homburg!
OFFICERS. Hail, hail, hail!
ALL. The victor of the field of Fehrbellin!