The Death of Wallenstein | Page 4

It was the doing of the element With which you fought, my lord! and not my merit, The Baltic Neptune did assert his freedom: The sea and land, it seemed were not to serve One and the same.
WALLENSTEIN You plucked the admiral's hat from off my head.
WRANGEL. I come to place a diadem thereon.
WALLENSTEIN (makes the motion for him to take a seat, and seats himself). And where are your credentials Come you provided with full powers, sir general?
WRANGEL. There are so many scruples yet to solve----
WALLENSTEIN (having read the credentials). An able letter! Ay--he is a prudent, Intelligent master whom you serve, sir general! The chancellor writes me that he but fulfils His late departed sovereign's own idea In helping me to the Bohemian crown.
WRANGEL. He says the truth. Our great king, now in heaven, Did ever deem most highly of your grace's Pre-eminent sense and military genius; And always the commanding intellect, He said, should have command, and be the king.
WALLENSTEIN. Yes, he might say it safely. General Wrangel, [Taking his hand affectionately. Come, fair and open. Trust me, I was always A Swede at heart. Eh! that did you experience Both in Silesia and at Nuremberg; I had you often in my power, and let you Always slip out by some back door or other. 'Tis this for which the court can ne'er forgive me, Which drives me to this present step: and since Our interests so run in one direction, E'en let us have a thorough confidence Each in the other.
WRANGEL. Confidence will come Has each but only first security.
WALLENSTEIN. The chancellor still, I see, does not quite trust me; And, I confess--the game does not lie wholly To my advantage. Without doubt he thinks, If I can play false with the emperor, Who is my sovereign, I can do the like With the enemy, and that the one, too, were Sooner to be forgiven me than the other. Is not this your opinion, too, sir general?
WRANGEL. I have here a duty merely, no opinion.
WALLENSTEIN. The emperor hath urged me to the uttermost I can no longer honorably serve him. For my security, in self-defence, I take this hard step, which my conscience blames.
WRANGEL. That I believe. So far would no one go Who was not forced to it. [After a pause. What may have impelled Your princely highness in this wise to act Toward your sovereign lord and emperor, Beseems not us to expound or criticise. The Swede is fighting for his good old cause, With his good sword and conscience. This concurrence, This opportunity is in our favor, And all advantages in war are lawful. We take what offers without questioning; And if all have its due and just proportions----
WALLENSTEIN. Of what then are ye doubting? Of my will? Or of my power? I pledged me to the chancellor, Would he trust me with sixteen thousand men, That I would instantly go over to them With eighteen thousand of the emperor's troops.
WRANGEL. Your grace is known to be a mighty war-chief, To be a second Attila and Pyrrhus. 'Tis talked of still with fresh astonishment, How some years past, beyond all human faith, You called an army forth like a creation: But yet----
WALLENSTEIN. But yet?
WRANGEL. But still the chancellor thinks It might yet be an easier thing from nothing To call forth sixty thousand men of battle, Than to persuade one-sixtieth part of them----
WALLENSTEIN. What now? Out with it, friend?
WRANGEL. To break their oaths.
WALLENSTEIN. And he thinks so? He judges like a Swede, And like a Protestant. You Lutherans Fight for your Bible. You are interested About the cause; and with your hearts you follow Your banners. Among you whoe'er deserts To the enemy hath broken covenant With two lords at one time. We've no such fancies.
WRANGEL. Great God in heaven! Have then the people here No house and home, no fireside, no altar?
WALLENSTEIN. I will explain that to you, how it stands: The Austrian has a country, ay, and loves it, And has good cause to love it--but this army That calls itself the imperial, this that houses Here in Bohemia, this has none--no country; This is an outcast of all foreign lands, Unclaimed by town or tribe, to whom belongs Nothing except the universal sun. And this Bohemian land for which we fight Loves not the master whom the chance of war, Not its own choice or will, hath given to it. Men murmur at the oppression of their conscience, And power hath only awed but not appeased them. A glowing and avenging memory lives Of cruel deeds committed on these plains; How can the son forget that here his father Was hunted by the bloodhound to the mass? A people thus oppressed must still be feared, Whether they suffer or avenge