Egmont. It is his business to think of that. He was told so in a former
letter.

Secretary. And therefore he makes these proposals.

Egmont. They will never do;--he must think of something else. Let him
suggest expedients that are admissible, and, before all, let him procure the
money.

Secretary. I have again before me the letter from Count Oliva. Pardon my
recalling it to your remembrance. Before all others, the aged count
deserves a detailed reply. You proposed writing to him with your own
hand. Doubtless, he loves you as a father.

Egmont. I cannot command the time;--and of all detestable things, writing
is to me the most detestable. You imitate my hand so admirably, do you
write in my name. I am expecting Orange. I cannot do it;--I wish,
however, that something soothing should be written, to allay his fears.

Secretary. Just give me a notion of what you wish to communicate; I will
at once draw up the answer, and lay it before you. It shall be so written
that it might pass for your hand in a court of justice.

Egmont. Give me the letter. (After glancing over it.) Dear, excellent, old
man! Wert thou then so cautious in thy youth? Didst thou never mount a
breach? Didst thou remain in the rear of battle at the suggestion of
prudence?-- What affectionate solicitude! He has indeed my safety and
happiness at heart, but considers not, that he who lives but to save his life,
is already dead.--Charge him not to be anxious on my account; I act as
circumstances require, and shall be upon my guard. Let him use his