BUTLER.

You know not. Ask not! Wherefore should it happen,
That the Swedes gained the victory, and hasten
With such forced marches hitherward? Fain would I
Have given him to the Emperor's mercy.-Gordon !
I do not wish his blood-But I must ransom
The honour of my word-it lies in pledge-
And he must die, or-

(passionately grasping Gordon's hand).
Listen then, and know!

I am dishonoured if the Duke escape us.

GORDON.

O to save such a man

BUTLER.

What!

GORDON.

It is worth

A sacrifice.-Come, friend! Be noble-minded! .
Our own heart, and not other men's opinions,
Forms our true honour.

BUTLER. (with a cold and haughty air.)

He is a great Lord,

This Duke-and I am but of mean importance.
This is what you would say? Wherein concerns it
The world at large, you mean to hint to me,
Whether the man of low extraction keeps
Or blemishes his honour-

So that the man of princely rank be saved.
We all do stamp our value on ourselves.

The price we challenge for ourselves is given us.
There does not live on earth the man so stationed,
That I despise myself compared with him.

Man is made great or little by his own will;
Because I am true to mine, therefore he dies.
GORDON.

I am endeavouring to move a rock.

Thou hadst a mother, yet no human feelings.
I cannot hinder you, but may some God

Rescue him from you!

[Exit Gordon.

SCENE IX.

BUTLER. (alone.)

I treasured my good name all my life long;
The Duke has cheated me of life's best jewel,
So that I blush before this poor weak Gordon!
He prizes above all his fealty;

His conscious soul accuses him of nothing;
In opposition to his own soft heart
He subjugates himself to an iron duty.
Me in a weaker moment passion warped ;
I stand beside him, and must feel myself

The worse man of the two. What, though the world Is ignorant of my purposed treason, yet

One man does know it, and can prove it too

High-minded Piccolomini!

There lives the man who can dishonour me!

This ignominy blood alone can cleanse!

Duke Friedland, thou or I-Into my own hands

Fortune delivers me-The dearest thing a man has is

himself.

(The curtain drops.)

ACT IV. SCENE I.

SCENE-Butler's Chamber.

BUTLER, MAJOR, and GERALDIN.

BUTLER.

Find me twelve strong Dragoons, arm them with pikes,

For there must be no firing

Conceal them somewhere near the banquet-room,

And soon as the desert is served up, rush all in
And cry-Who is loyal to the Emperor;
I will overturn the table-while you attack
Illo and Tertsky, and dispatch them both.
The castle-palace is well barred and guarded,
That no intelligence of this proceeding

May make its way to the Duke.-Go instantly;
Have you yet sent for Captain Devereux

And the Macdonald?

GERALDIN.

They'll be here anon.

[Exit Geraldin.

BUTLER.

Here's no room for delay. The citizens

Declare for him, a dizzy drunken spirit

Possesses the whole town. They see in the Duke
A Prince of peace, a founder of new ages
And golden times. Arms too have been given out
By the town-council, and an hundred citizens
Have volunteered themselves to stand on guard.
Dispatch then be the word. For enemies
Threaten us from without and from within.

SCENE II.

BUTLER, CAPTAIN DEVEREUX, and MACDONALD.

MACDONALD.

Here we are, General.

DEVEREUX.

What's to be the watchword?

BUTLER.

Long live the Emperor!

BOTH. (recoiling.)
How?

BUTLER.

Live the House of Austria !

DEVEREUX.

Have we not sworn fidelity to Friedland?

MACDONALD.

Have we not marched to this place to protect him?