Part 19 (1/2)

Ferdinand. I cannot leave thee.

Egmont. Let me urgently recommend my followers to thy care! I have worthy men in my service; let them not be dispersed, let them not become dest.i.tute! How fares it with Richard, my secretary?

Ferdinand. He is gone before thee. They have beheaded him, as thy accomplice in high treason.

Egmont. Poor soul!--Yet one word, and then farewell, I can no more.

However powerfully the spirit may be stirred, nature at length irresistibly a.s.serts her rights; and like a child, who, enveloped in a serpent's folds, enjoys refres.h.i.+ng slumber, so the weary one lays himself down to rest before the gates of death, and sleeps soundly, as though a toilsome journey yet lay before him.--One word more,--I know a maiden; thou wilt not despise her because she was mine. Since I can recommend her to thy care, I shall die in peace. Thy soul is n.o.ble; 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.)