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No. 4: Trio (Phœbe, Leonard & Sgt. Meryll)
"Alas, I waver to and fro"
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| Phœbe. | Leonard. | Sergeant Meryll. |
| The | ||
| hands that | The hands that | |
| shrink, the | shrink, | The hands that |
| cheeks that | cheeks that | shrink, |
| pale, The | pale, The | the cheeks that |
| hands that shrink, | hands that shrink, | pale, that pale, |
| the cheeks that pale | the cheeks that pale | the cheeks that pale |
| In hours of need! | In hours of need! | In hours of need! |
| Sergeant Meryll. |
| The air I breathe to him I owe: My life is his — I count it naught! |
| Phœbe & Leonard. |
| That life is his — so count it naught! |
| Sergeant Meryll. |
| And shall I reckon risks I run When services are to be done To save the life of such an one? Unworthy thought! Unworthy thought! |
| Phœbe & Leonard. |
| And shall we reckon risks we run To save the life of such an one? |
| All. |
| Unworthy thought! Unworthy thought! We may succeed — who can foretell? May heav'n help our hope — May heav'n help our hope, farewell! May heav'n help our hope, Help our hope, farewell! |
Leonard embraces Sergeant Meryll and Phœbe, and then exit. Phœbe weeping.
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Page Created 22 January, 2006