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Att. The Moslem prince, your captive—he is dead: It is the mourners' wail for him.

Aym. And she— His sister—heard you—did they say she wept? [Hurrying away.

Rai. (indignantly.) All the deep stirring tones of honour's voice In a moment silenced! [Solemn military music.

Rai. (following and grasping his arm.) Aymer! there—look there! It is your father's bier!

Aym. (returning.) He bless'd me, Rainier? You heard him bless me? Yes! you closed his eyes: He look'd for me in vain!

[He goes to the bier, and bends over it, covering his face.

 

A Knight. What! with our weary and distracted bands To dare another field! Nay, give them rest.

Rai. (impatiently.) Rest! and that sleepless thought——

Knight. These walls have strength To baffle siege. Let the foe gird us in— We must wait aid; our soldiers must forget That last disastrous day.

Rai. (coming forward.) If they forget it, in the combat's press May their spears fail them!

Knight. Yet, bethink thee, chief.

Rai. When I forget it—how! you see not, knights! Whence we must now draw strength. Send down your thoughts Into the very depths of grief and shame, And bring back courage thence! To talk of rest! How do they rest, unburied on their field, Our brethren slain by Gaza? Had we time To give them funeral rites? and ask we now Time to forget their fall? My father died— I cannot speak of hirn! What! and forget The infidel's fierce trampling o'er our dead? Forget his scornful shout? Give battle now, While the thought lives as fire lives!—there lies strength! Hold the dark memory fast! Now, now—this hour! 