_Count._ When thou go'st back to camp,
Salute my brothers for me; and say to them
That I die innocent; witness thou hast been
Of all my deeds and thoughts--thou knowest it.
Tell them that I did never stain my sword
With treason--I did never stain it--and
I am betrayed.--And when the trumpets blow,
And when the banners beat against the wind,
Give thou a thought to thine old comrade then!
And on some mighty day of battle, when
Upon the field of slaughter the priest lifts
His hands amid the doleful noises, offering up
The sacrifice to heaven for the dead,
Bethink thyself of me, for I too thought
To die in battle.

_Antonietta._ O God, have pity on us!

_Count._ O wife! Matilde! now the hour is near
We needs must part. Farewell!

_Matilde._ No, father--

_Count._ Yet
Once more, come to my heart! Once more, and now,
In mercy, go!

_Antonietta._ Ah, no! they shall unclasp us
By force!