Volume 3 / Act 4 — SCENE XII
Reading edition
THEKLA.
His spirit 'tis that calls me: 'tis the troop Of his true followers, who offer'd up Themselves to avenge his death: and they accuse me Of an ignoble loitering—they would not Forsake their leader even in his death—they died for him, And shall I live?— For me too was that laurel-garland twined That decks his bier. Life is an empty casket. I throw it from me. O! my only hope To die beneath the hoofs of trampling steeds— That is the lot of heroes upon earth!
[Exit THEKLA.[33]]
[The Curtain drops.]