CATILINA.
Godt! Vi vil kækt dem møde.
Lang var vor skændsels nat; snart gryr en dag –.
Til bad i kampens morgenskyer røde!
Følg mig! For Romer-sværd med Romer-mod
skal Romas sidste segne i sit blod!
(de iler ud gennem skoven; fra lejren høres larm og stridsråb.)
CATILINE.
Good! We will heed their warning.
Long was our night of shame; our dawn is near--.
To battle in the crimson sky of morning!
By Roman sword, with Roman fortitude,
The last of Romans perish in their blood!
[They rush out through the forest; a great alarm, rent with battle-cries, is heard from within the camp.]
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