Hark, hark! I hear
The strutting Gallic Chanticleer
Cry Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Ferdinand.
Where should this music be?
In th' air, or th' earth?
It sounds once more, and sure it waits upon
Myforward footsteps. Sitting all alone,
Musing upon Prince Alexander's wreck,
This music crept upon me unawares,