human
Mütterchen, do not grieve for me; we have stormed the redoubt, the day is ours. Be of good cheer. They fly, they fly, those French rascals! Mother, remember me--I die for the dear Fatherland.
gpt
Do not give way to your grief, Anna Arler; your son has died the death of a hero.
human
I am not, because you would not. There is no Fritz; you cast my soul into the brook and I was carried over the mill-wheel.