A dream? A phantom? No reality?
[Shaking himself, he Jumps to his feet.]
Then Santa Anna is a man again!
Let me but feel my blood course through my veins,
Let but my will control my nerves and powers,
And I defy your spells, your whispered threats,
Ye shadowy spirits from the Land of Dreams,
Who like hyenas of the desert creep
Into the camp-ground of our slumbering souls,
But flee dismayed and cowardly, when, roused,
We hold our reason's fire-brand to your eyes.
What is the hour?
Not far from two.
And call my Generals. What wilt thou, Duque?
I come to make report, that fruitlessly
My men have searched since midnight to detect
The faintest vestige of the fugitives.
Recall thy men and show us, if they do
As blood-hounds better than they did as pointers.
So after all that girl has baffled me,