I can’t promise.
Floris
Isabelle!
Isabelle
What is it?
Floris
(Flinging himself into his sister’s arms.) I don’t know!
The Burgomaster
I have done my duty, Isabelle, and you have approved. I have made the sacrifice of my life; and I have made it much more easily than I dared hope, for I did not know that I had so much courage. But I am no hero; I am only a poor man who was quite unprepared to do what I am going to do to-day. You must not ask too much of me. There are limits to my strength. I am not used to suffering, I have not been in the habit of braving misfortune. I can bear my own unhappiness, but not that of others; and I feel that I shall not hold out to the end without breaking down, if my death is to involve the loss of the most precious of the lives which I thought I had ransomed. You must spare me one intolerable sorrow that can still move me. You ought to understand this. You ought to help me. And, instead of helping me, you are both of you making it more difficult for me! Don’t you want your father to hold up his head when he faces the enemy? I was not afraid of death for myself, but I am for you. Do not weaken the strength which I shall need very soon. I have made the sacrifice of my own life, but not of your two lives: that would mean a twofold death to me and threefold suffering; and the courage which I have called up will not be enough if I see you fall by my side.
Isabelle