Clara
I will speak softly, till our gathered strength
Finds in its union voice. Ah, no delay!
The tyranny that dared to fetter wears
A midnight dagger. As the evening shades
Darken around, my spirit darkens too.
I dread the night. But let us now disperse,
Each calling on his friends: let each one seek
His ancient sword. Here let our meeting be!
The market-place will hold our generous crowd
Our stream will carry all before its tide.
The enemy will falter, and then yield.
They have but hired guards to meet our might—
Soldiers against the people! they'll not stand.
Count Egmont, he will marshal our return.
Free, he will thank us for it—we, who owe
So vast a debt to him. Ah, he may see—
He will see morning redden the free sky!
2nd Citizen.
What mean you, maiden ?
Clara.
Hear ye not my words?
I speak of Egmont.
1st Citizen.
Name not his fatal name!
Clara.
Not name that name! his name! Why it must come,
If but from common custom to the lip.
