Egmont. You, my lord, should know better than I, that tranquillity
is already sufficiently restored, and was still more so, till the
appearance of fresh troops again agitated the public mind, and filled it
anew with anxiety and alarm.

Alva. You seem to intimate that it would have been more advisable if the
king had not placed me in a position to interrogate you.

Egmont. Pardon me! It is not for me to determine whether the king acted
advisedly in sending the army hither, whether the might of his royal
presence alone would not have operated more powerfully. The army is
here, the king is not. But we should be most ungrateful were we to
forget what we owe to the Regent. Let it be acknowledged! By her
prudence and valour, by her judicious use of authority and force,
of persuasion and finesse, she pacified the insurgents, and, to the
astonishment of the world, succeeded, in the course of a few months, in
bringing a rebellious people back to their duty.

Alva. I deny it not. The insurrection is quelled; and the people appear
to be already forced back within the bounds of obedience. But does it
not depend upon their caprice alone to overstep these bounds? Who shall
prevent them from again breaking loose? Where is the power capable of
restraining them? Who will be answerable to us for their future loyalty
and submission? Their own goodwill is the sole pledge we have.

Egmont. And is not the good-will of a people the surest, the noblest
pledge? By heaven! when can a monarch hold himself more secure, ay, both
against foreign and domestic foes, than when all can stand for one, and
one for all?

Alva. You would not have us believe, however, that such is the case here
at present?

Egmont. Let the king proclaim a general pardon; he will thus
tranquillize the public mind; and it will be seen how speedily loyalty
and affection will return, when confidence is restored.

Alva. How! And suffer those who have insulted the majesty of the
king, who have violated the sanctuaries of our religion, to go abroad
unchallenged! living witnesses that enormous crimes may be perpetrated
with impunity!

Egmont. And ought not a crime of frenzy, of intoxication, to be excused,
rather than horribly chastised? Especially when there is the sure hope,
nay, more, where there is positive certainty that the evil will never
again recur? Would not sovereigns thus be more secure? Are not those
monarchs most extolled by the world and by posterity, who can