A traitor to the Emperor!  Such a noble! 
Of such high talents!  What is human greatness! 
I often said, this can’t end happily. 
His might, his greatness, and his obscure power
Are but a cover’d pit-fall.  The human being
May not be trusted to self-government. 
The clear and written law, the deep trod foot-marks
Of ancient custom, are all necessary
To keep him in the road of faith and duty. 
The authority intrusted to this man
Was unexampled and unnatural,
It placed him on a level with his Emperor,
Till the proud soul unlearn’d submission.  Woe is me! 
I mourn for him! for where he fell, I deem
Might none stand firm.  Alas! dear General,
We in our lucky mediocrity
Have ne’er experienced, cannot calculate,
What dangerous wishes such a height may breed
In the heart of such a man.

BUTLER.

Spare your laments
Till he need sympathy; for at this present
He is still mighty, and still formidable. 
The Swedes advance to Egra by forced marches,
And quickly will the junction be accomplish’d. 
This must not be!  The Duke must never leave
This stronghold on free footing; for I have
Pledged life and honor here to hold him prisoner,
And your assistance ’tis on which I calculate.

GORDON.

O that I had not lived to see this day! 
From his hand I received this dignity;
He did himself intrust this stronghold to me,
Which I am now required to make his dungeon. 
We subalterns have no will of our own: 
The free, the mighty man alone may listen
To the fair impulse of his human nature. 
Ah! we are but the poor tools of the law,
Obedience the sole virtue we dare aim at!

BUTLER.

Nay! let it not afflict you, that your power
Is circumscribed.  Much liberty, much error! 
The narrow path of duty is securest.

GORDON.

And all then have deserted him you say? 
He has built up the luck of many thousands;
For kingly was his spirit:  his full hand
Was ever open!  Many a one from dust

[With a sly glance on BUTLER.]

Hath he selected, from the very dust
Hath raised him into dignity and honor,
And yet no friend, not one friend hath he purchased,
Whose heart beats true to him in the evil hour.

BUTLER.

Here’s one, I see.

GORDON.

I have enjoy’d from him
No grace or favor.  I could almost doubt
If ever in his greatness he once thought on
An old friend of his youth.  For still my office
Kept me at a distance from him; and when first
He to this citadel appointed me,
He was sincere and serious in his duty. 
I do not then abuse his confidence,
If I preserve my fealty in that
Which to my fealty was first delivered.

BUTLER.

Say, then, will you fulfil th’ attainder on him, [And lend your aid to take him in arrest?]