and with hat!
How boldly I'd follow,
And march through the gate;
Through all the wide province
I'd follow him straight.
The foe yield, we capture
Or shoot them! Ah, me!
What heart-thrilling rapture
A soldier to be!

(During the song, Brackenburg has frequently looked at Clara; at length
his voice falters, his eyes fill with tears, he lets the skein fall, and
goes to the window. Clara finishes the song alone, her Mother motions to
her, half displeased, she rises, advances a few steps towards him, turns
back, as if irresolute, and again sits down.)

Mother. What is going on in the street, Brackenburg? I hear soldiers
marching.

Brackenburg. It is the Regent's body-guard.

Clara. At this hour? What can it mean? (She rises and joins Brackenburg
at the window.) That is not the daily guard; it is more numerous! almost
all the troops! Oh, Brackenburg, go! Learn what it means. It must be
something unusual. Go, good Brackenburg, do me this favour.

Brackenburg. I am going! I will return immediately. (He offers his hand
to Clara, and she gives him hers.)

[Exit Brackenburg.

Mother. Thou sendest him away so soon!

Clara. I am curious; and, besides--do not be angry, Mother--his presence
pains me. I never know how I ought to behave towards him. I have done
him a wrong, and it goes to my very heart to see how deeply he feels it.
Well, it can't be helped now!

Mother. He is such a true-hearted fellow!

Clara. I cannot help it, I must treat him kindly. Often without a
thought, I return the gentle, loving pressure of his hand. I reproach
myself that I am deceiving him, that I am nourishing in his heart a vain
hope. I am in a sad plight! God knows, I do not willingly deceive him. I
do not wish him to hope, yet I cannot let him despair!

Mother. That is not as it should be.

Clara. I liked him once, and in my soul I like him still I could have
married him; yet I believe I was never really in love with him.

Mother. Thou wouldst always have been happy with him.

Clara. I should have been provided for, and have led a quiet life.

Mother. And through thy fault it has all been trifled away.

Clara, I am in a strange position. When I think how it has come to
pass, I know it, indeed, and I know it not. But I have only to look
upon Egmont, and I understand it all; ay, and stranger things would seem
natural then. Oh, what a man he is! All the provinces worship him. And
in his arms,