ave so little of
truth left in them that in your hands they can be answerable for crimes.

Flink. Oh, spare me your dialectics!--because any skill you have in
them, _I_ taught you! You cannot excuse your own sins by running over
the list of mine; that is the only answer I have to make to you! I don't
stand before you as the embodiment of truth; I am no braggart. No; but
simply as one who has loved you deeply and now is as deeply offended by
you, I ask this question of your conscience: What have you done with the
love we had for one another? Where is the sacred cause we both used to
uphold? Where is our honour--our friends--our future?

Gran. I feel respect for your sorrow. Can you not feel any for mine? Or
do you suppose that I am not suffering?

Flink. You cannot act as you have done without bringing unhappiness upon
yourself. But there are others to be considered besides you, and we have
the right to call you to account. Answer me!

Gran. And is it really you--you, my old friend--that propose to do that?

Flink. God knows I would sooner some one else did it! But none can do it
so fitly as I--because no one else has loved you as I have. I expected
too much of you, you say? The only thing I wanted of you was that you
should be faithful! I had so often been disappointed; but in you and
your quiet strength I thought I had splendid security that, as long as
you lived, our cause would bear itself proudly and confidently. It was
your prestige that brought it into being; your wealth that supported it.
It did not cry aloud for the blood of martyrs!--You were the happiness
of my life; my soul renewed its strength from yours.

Gran. Old friend--!

Flink. I was old, and you were young! Your nature was a harmonious
whole--it was what I needed to lean upon.

Gran. Flink, my dear old friend--!

Flink. And now, here you stand--a broken man, and our whole cause broken
with you; all our lives broken--at least mine is--

Gran. Don't say that!

Flink. You have destroyed my faith in mankind--and in myself, for I see
what a mistake I made; but it will be the last I shall make! I took you
to my heart of hearts--and now, the only thing I can do is to call you
to account!

Gran. What do you want me to do? Tell me!

Flink. We must stand face to face--armed! You must die! (A pause.)

Gran (without seeming greatly surprised). Of the two of us, it will go
hardest with you, old friend.

Flink. You think your aim will be the surer