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.