ILLO. The duke will soon assemble A mighty army: all come crowding, streaming To banners, dedicate by destiny To fame, and prosperous fortune. I behold Old times come back again! he will become Once more the mighty lord which he has been. How will the fools, who've how deserted him, Look then? I can't but laugh to think of them, For lands will he present to all his friends, And like a king and emperor reward True services; but we've the nearest claims. [To GORDON. You will not be forgotten, governor! He'll take from you this nest, and bid you shine In higher station: your fidelity Well merits it. GORDON. I am content already, And wish to climb no higher; where great height is, The fall must needy be great. "Great height, great depth." ILLO. Here you have no more business, for to-morrow The Swedes will take possession of the citadel. Come, Terzky, it is supper-time. What think you? Nay, shall we have the town illuminated In honor of the Swede? And who refuses To do it is a Spaniard and a traitor. TERZKY. Nay! nay! not that, it will not please the duke---- ILLO. What; we are masters here; no soul shall dare Avow himself imperial where we've the rule. Gordon! good-night, and for the last time take A fair leave of the place. Send out patrols To make secure, the watchword may be altered. At the stroke of ten deliver in the keys To the duke himself, and then you've quit forever Your wardship of the gates, for on to-morrow The Swedes will take possession of the citadel. TERZKY (as he is going, to BUTLER). You come, though, to the castle? BUTLER. At the right time. [Exeunt TERZKY and ILLO. SCENE VIII. GORDON and BUTLER. GORDON (looking after them). Unhappy men! How free from all foreboding They rush into the outspread net of murder In the blind drunkenness of victory; I have no pity for their fate. This Illo, This overflowing and foolhardy villain, That would fain bathe himself in his emperor's blood. BUTLER. Do as he ordered you. Send round patrols, Take measures for the citadel's security; When they are within I close the castle-gate That nothing may transpire. GORDON (with earnest anxiety). Oh! haste not so! Nay, stop; first tell me---- BUTLER. You have heard already, To-morrow to the Swedes belongs. This night Alone is ours. They make good expedition. But we will make still greater. Fare you well. GORDON. Ah! your looks tell me nothing good. Nay, Butler, I pray you promise me!