Gret. No, no—ah, Gottfried, spare him!
Gott.Quick—his name!
Gret. He loved me, Gottfried—spare him—he is gone.
Oh, Gottfried, Gottfried—I—— (Falls senseless at his feet.)
Gott.Come hither, all!
[During these lines the Soldiers, Friedrich, and Girls have entered.
His name, give me his name! (They turn away.) Why, how is this?—
Why turn you from me, comrades? Have you heard?
Fried. Ay, Gottfried, we have heard.
Gott.A curse on you!