Ferdinand. Pardon my intrusion. Here is a letter, the bearer of which urgently demands an answer. Alva. Allow me to peruse its contents. (Steps aside.) Ferdinand (to Egmont). 'Tis a noble steed that your people have brought, to carry you away. Egmont. I have seen worse. I have had him some time; I think of parting with him. If he pleases you we shall probably soon agree as to the price. Ferdinand. We will think about it. (Alva motions to his son, who retires to the back-ground.) Egmont. Farewell! Allow me to retire; for, by heaven, I know not what more I can say. Alva. Fortunately for you, chance prevents you from making a fuller disclosure of your sentiments. You incautiously lay bare the recesses of your heart, and your own lips furnish evidence against you, more fatal than could be produced by your bitterest adversary. Egmont. This reproach disturbs me not. I know my own heart; I know with what honest zeal I am devoted to the king; I know that my allegiance is more true than that of many who, in his service, seek only to serve themselves. I regret that our discussion should terminate so unsatisfactorily, and trust that in spite of our opposing views, the service of the king, our master, and the welfare of our country, may speedily unite us; another conference, the presence of the princes who to-day are absent, may, perchance, in a more propitious moment, accomplish what at present appears impossible. In this hope I take my leave. Alva (who at the same time makes a sign to Ferdinand). Hold, Egmont!--Your sword!-(The centre door opens and discloses the gallery, which is occupied with guards, who remain motionless.) Egmont (after a pause of astonishment). This was the intention? For this thou hast summoned me? (Grasping his sword as if to defend himself.) Am I then weaponless? Alva. The king commands. Thou art my prisoner. (At the same time guards enter from both sides.) Egmont (after a pause). The king?--Orange! Orange! (after a pause, resigning his sword). Take it! It has been employed far oftener in defending the cause of my king than in protecting this breast. (He retires by the centre door, followed by the guard and Alva's son. Alva remains standing while the curtain falls.) ACT V SCENE I.--A Street. Twilight Clara, Brackenburg, Burghers Brackenburg. Dearest, for Heaven's sake, what wouldst thou do? Clara. Come with me, Brackenburg! Thou canst not know the people, we are certain to rescue him; for what can equal their love for him? Each feels, I could swear it, the burning desire to deliver him, to avert danger from a life so precious, and to restore freedom to the most free. Come! A voice only is wanting to call them together. In their souls the memory is still fresh of all they owe him, and well they know that his mighty arm alone shields them from destruction. For his sake, for their own sake, they must peril everything. And what do we peril? At most, our lives, which if he perish, are not worth preserving.