ce I can
recommend her to thy care, I shall die in peace. Thy soul is noble; in
such a man, a woman is sure to find a protector. Lives my old Adolphus?
Is he free?

Ferdinand. The active old man, who always attended thee on horseback?

Egmont. The same.

Ferdinand. He lives, he is free.

Egmont. He knows her dwelling; let him guide thy steps thither, and
reward him to his dying day, for having shown thee the way to this
jewel.--Farewell!

Ferdinand. I cannot leave thee.

Egmont (urging him towards the door). Farewell!

Ferdinand. Oh, let me linger yet a moment!

Egmont. No leave-taking, my friend.

(He accompanies Ferdinand to the door, and then tears himself away;
Ferdinand, overwhelmed with grief, hastily retires.)

Egmont (alone)

Egmont. Cruel man! Thou didst not think to render me this service
through thy son. He has been the means of relieving my mind from the
pressure of care and sorrow, from fear and every anxious feeling.
Gently, yet urgently, nature claims her final tribute. 'Tis past!--'Tis
resolved! And the reflections which, in the suspense of last night, kept
me wakeful on my couch, now with resistless certainty lull my senses to
repose.

(He seats himself upon the couch; music)

Sweet sleep! Like the purest happiness, thou comest most willingly,
uninvited, unsought. Thou dost loosen the knots of earnest thoughts,
dost mingle all images of joy and of sorrow, unimpeded the circle of
inner harmony flows on, and wrapped in fond delusion, we sink into
oblivion, and cease to be.

(He sleeps; music accompanies his slumber. Behind his couch the wall
appears to open and discovers a brilliant apparition. Freedom, in a
celestial garb, surrounded by a glory, reposes on a cloud. Her features
are those of Clara and she inclines towards the sleeping hero. Her
countenance betokens compassion, she seems to lament his fate. Quickly
she recovers herself and with an encouraging gesture exhibits the
symbols of freedom, the bundle of arrows, with the staff and cap. She
encourages him to be of good cheer, and while she signifies to him that
his death will secure the freedom of the provinces, she hails him as a
conqueror, and extends to him a laurel crown. As the wreath approaches
his head, Egmont moves like one asleep, and reclines with his face
towards her. She holds the wreath suspended over his head,--martial
music is heard in the distance, at the first sound the vision
disappears. The music grows louder