Egmont.  Hearken then to me!  If thy heart is impelled so powerfully in my favour, if thou dost abhor the tyranny that holds me fettered, then deliver me!  The moments are precious.  Thou art the son of the all-powerful, and thou hast power thyself.  Let us fly!  I know the roads; the means of effecting our escape cannot be unknown to thee.  These walls, a few short miles, alone separate me from my friends.  Loose these fetters, conduct me to them; be ours.  The king, on some future day, will doubtless thank my deliverer.  Now he is taken by surprise, or perchance he is ignorant of the whole proceeding.  Thy father ventures on this daring step, and majesty, though horror-struck at the deed, must needs sanction the irrevocable.  Thou dost deliberate?  Oh, contrive for me the way to freedom!  Speak; nourish hope in a living soul.

Ferdinand.  Cease!  Oh, cease!  Every word deepens my despair.  There is here no outlet, no counsel, no escape.—­’Tis this thought that tortures me, that seizes my heart, and rends it as with talons.  I have myself spread the net; I know its firm, inextricable knots; I know that every avenue is barred alike to courage and to stratagem.  I feel that I too, like thyself, like all the rest, am fettered.  Think’st thou that I should give way to lamentation if any means of safety remained untried?  I have thrown myself at his feet, remonstrated, implored.  He has sent me hither, in order to blast in this fatal moment, every remnant of joy and happiness that yet survived within my heart.

Egmont.  And is there no deliverance?

Ferdinand.  None!

Egmont (stamping his foot).  No deliverance!-Sweet life!  Sweet, pleasant habitude of existence and of activity! from thee must I part!  So calmly part!  Not in the tumult of battle, amid the din of arms, the excitement of the fray, dost thou send me a hasty farewell; thine is no hurried leave; thou dost not abridge the moment of separation.  Once more let me clasp thy hand, gaze once more into thine eyes, feel with keen emotion, thy beauty and thy worth, then resolutely tear myself away, and say;—­depart!

Ferdinand.  Must I stand by, and look passively on; unable to save thee, or to give thee aid!  What voice avails for lamentation!  What heart but must break under the pressure of such anguish?

Egmont.  Be calm!

Ferdinand.  Thou canst be calm, thou canst renounce, led on by necessity, thou canst advance to the direful struggle, with the courage of a hero.  What can I do?  What ought I to do?  Thou dost conquer thyself and us; thou art the victor; I survive both myself and thee.  I have lost my light at the banquet, my banner on the field.  The future lies before me, dark, desolate, perplexed.