reasons you shall know when all is
accomplished. Time fails now to unfold them. With you alone I wish to
deliberate on the weightiest, the most secret matters; a powerful bond
holds us linked together; you are dear and precious to me; on you
I would bestow everything. Not the habit of obedience alone would I
impress upon you; I desire also to implant within your mind the power
to realize, to command, to execute; to you I would bequeath a vast
inheritance, to the king a most useful servant; I would endow you with
the noblest of my possessions, that you may not be ashamed to appear
among your brethren.
Ferdinand. How deeply am I indebted to you for this love, which you
manifest for me alone, while a whole kingdom trembles before you!
Alva. Now hear what is to be done. As soon as the princes have entered,
every avenue to the palace will be guarded. This duty is confided to
Gomez. Silva will hasten to arrest Egmont's secretary, together with
those whom we hold most in suspicion. You, meanwhile, will take the
command of the guards stationed at the gates and in the courts. Before
all, take care to occupy the adjoining apartment with the trustiest
soldiers. Wait in the gallery till Silva returns, then bring me any
unimportant paper, as a signal that his commission is executed. Remain
in the ante-chamber till Orange retires, follow him; I will detain
Egmont here as though I had some further communication to make to him.
At the end of the gallery demand Orange's sword, summon the guards,
secure promptly the most dangerous man; I meanwhile will seize Egmont
here.
Ferdinand. I obey, my father--for the first time with a heavy and an
anxious heart.
Alva. I pardon you; this is the first great day of your life.
[Enter Silva.
Silva. A courier from Antwerp. Here is Orange's letter. He does not
come.
Alva. Says the messenger so?
Silva. No, my own heart tells me.
Alva. In thee speaks my evil genius. (After reading the letter, he makes
a sign to the two, and they retire to the gallery. Alva remains alone
in front of the stage.) He comes not! Till the last moment he delays
declaring himself. He ventures not to come! So then, the cautious man,
contrary to all expectations, is for once cautious enough to lay aside
his wonted caution. The hour moves on! Let the finger travel but a short
space over the dial, and a great work is done or lost--irrevocably lost;
for the opportunity can never be retrieved, nor can our intentio
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