King. What can I otherwise? In whose blood shall I dip this body to make it consecrate? With what right shall I plunge this sword into fiery service? He who stands without there serves a righteous cause. So sayest thou. The Chancellor, likewise. You all agree. Therefore I counsel thee: be wise, rescue your country and make clean your house. There is still time ... the storm yet lulls. The Duke has need of me; deliver me to him.
Cölestin. All my strength is broken against this madness, which destroys itself.... And the hour presses.... What can I do? The crowd shrieks lamentations in my ear. Kneel down, my child, stretch out thy arms,--perhaps, that silent picture will reach this heart. [He makes the young Prince kneel down.]
King. Stand up. . . Come here. . . Thou hast stood in my way, and yet I loved thee. A madness, an absurdity! [Aside.] Suppose: if thou wert not,--if in this coming hour I might but strike a blow for my own throne.... Where now?
The young Prince [clinging to Hans]. I am afraid.
Hans Lorbass [gazing at the King]. There is the pinch. [Going up to him, aside]. And if---
King. If--what?
Hans Lorbass. If through some chance, quite unforseen, this land should all at once become thine own, entirely thine?
King [bewildered]. What dost thou mean?
Hans Lorbass. Well then, if that should disappear that stands in thy way? [Bursting out.] Then wouldst thou take thy sword in both thy hands and storm exulting on the foe?... Well?
King. I understand thee not.