ble evil.

Egmont. When the danger is imminent the faintest hope should be taken
into account.

Orange We have not the smallest footing left; we are on the very brink
of the precipice.

Egmont. Is the king's favour on ground so narrow?

Orange. Not narrow, perhaps, but slippery.

Egmont. By heavens! he is belied. I cannot endure that he should be so
meanly thought of! He is Charles's son, and incapable of meanness.

Orange. Kings of course do nothing mean.

Egmont. He should be better known.

Orange. Our knowledge counsels us not to await the result of a dangerous
experiment.

Egmont. No experiment is dangerous, the result of which we have the
courage to meet.

Orange. You are irritated, Egmont.

Egmont. I must see with my own eyes.

Orange. Oh that for once you saw with mine! My friend, because your eyes
are open, you imagine that you see. I go! Await Alva's arrival, and God
be with you! My refusal to do so may perhaps save you. The dragon may
deem the prey not worth seizing, if he cannot swallow us both. Perhaps
he may delay, in order more surely to execute his purpose; in the
meantime you may see matters in their true light. But then, be prompt!
Lose not a moment! Save,--oh, save yourself! Farewell!--Let nothing
escape your vigilance:--how many troops he brings with him; how he
garrisons the town; what force the Regent retains; how your friends are
prepared. Send me tidings--Egmont--Egmont. What would you?

Orange (grasping his hand). Be persuaded! Go with me!

Egmont. How! Tears, Orange!

Orange. To weep for a lost friend is not unmanly.

Egmont. You deem me lost?

Orange. You are lost! Consider! Only a brief respite is left you.
Farewell.

[Exit.

Egmont (alone). Strange that the thoughts of other men should exert such
an influence over us. These fears would never have entered my mind; and
this man infects me with his solicitude. Away! 'Tis a foreign drop in my
blood! Kind nature, cast it forth! And to erase the furrowed lines from
my brow there yet remains indeed a friendly means.

ACT III

SCENE I.--Palace of the Regent Margaret of Parma

Regent. I might have expected it. Ha! when we live immersed in anxiety
and toil, we imagine that we achieve the utmost that is possible;
while he, who, from a distance, looks on and commands, believes that he
requires only the possible. O ye kings! I had not thought it could have
galled me thus. It is so sweet to reign!--and to abdicate? I k