y, 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.

Egmont. Young friend, whom by a strange fatality, at the same moment,
I both win and lose, who dost feel for me, who dost suffer for me the
agonies of death,--look on me;--thou wilt not lose me. If my life was
a mirror in which thou didst love to contemplate thyself, so be also
my death. Men are not together only when in each other's presence;--the
distant, the departed, also live for us. I shall live for thee, and for
myself I have li