Entreat swift aidance in his extreme need;The Emperor sends seven horsemen to Duke Friedland, 45
Seven horsemen couriers sends he with the entreaty:
He superadds his own, and supplicates
Where as the sovereign lord he can command.
In vain his supplication! At this moment
The Duke hears only his old hate and grudge, 50
Barters the general good to gratify
Private revenge — and so falls Regenspurg.
Wallenstein. Max, to what period of the war alludes he?
My recollection fails me here.
Max. He means
When we were in Silesia.
Wallenstein. Ay! Is it so! 55
But what had we to do there?
Max. To beat out
The Swedes and Saxons from the province.
Wallenstein. True.
In that description which the Minister gave
I seemed to have forgotten the whole war. [To QUESTENBERG.
Well, but proceed a little.
Questenberg. Yes! at length 60
Beside the river Oder did the Duke
Assert his ancient fame. Upon the fields
Of Steinau did the Swedes lay down their arms,
Subdued without a blow. And here, with others,
The righteousness of Heaven to his avenger 65
Delivered that long-practised stirrer-up
Of insurrection, that curse-laden torch
And kindler of this war, Matthias Thur.
But he had fallen into magnanimous hands;
Instead of punishment he found reward, 70
And with rich presents did the Duke dismiss
The arch-foe of his Emperor.
Wallenstein (laughs). I know,
I know you had already in Vienna
Your windows and balconies all forestalled
To see him on the executioner’s cart. 75
I might have lost the battle, lost it too
With infamy, and still retained your graces —
But, to have cheated them of a spectacle,
Oh! that the good folks of Vienna never,
No, never can forgive me.
Questenberg. So Silesia 80
Was freed, and all things loudly called the Duke
Into Bavaria, now pressed hard on all sides.
And he did put his troops in motion: slowly,
Quite at his ease, and by the longest road
He traverses Bohemia; but ere ever 85
He hath once seen the enemy, faces round,
Breaks up the march, and takes to winter quarters.
Wallenstein. The troops were pitiably destitute
Of every necessary, every comfort.
The winter came. What thinks his Majesty 90
His troops are made of? Arn’t we men? subjected
Like other men to wet, and cold, and all
The circumstances of necessity?
O miserable lot of the poor soldier!
Wherever he comes in, all flee before him, 95
And when he goes away, the general curse
Follows him on his route. All must be seized,
Nothing is given him. And compelled to seize
From every man, he’s every man’s abhorrence.
Behold, here stand my Generals. Karaffa! 100
Count Deodate! Butler! Tell this man
How long the soldiers’ pay is in arrears.
Butler. Already a full year.
Wallenstein. And ‘tis the hire
That constitutes the hireling’s name and duties,
The soldier’s pay is the soldier’s covenant. 105
Questenberg. Ah! this is a far other tone from that
In which the Duke spoke eight, nine years ago.
Wallenstein. Yes! ‘tis my fault, I know it: I myself
Have spoilt the Emperor by indulging him.
Nine years ago, during the Danish war, 110
I raised him up a force, a mighty force,
Forty or fifty thousand men, that cost him
Of his own purse no doit. Through Saxony
The fury goddess of the war marched on,
E’en to the surf-rocks of the Baltic, bearing 115
The terrors of his name. That was a time!
In the whole Imperial realm no name like mine
Honoured with festival and celebration —
And Albrecht Wallenstein, it was the title
Of the third jewel in his crown! 120
But at the Diet, when the Princes met
At Regenspurg, there, there the whole broke out,
There ‘twas laid open, there it was made known,
Out of what money-bag I had paid the host.
And what was now my thank, what had I now, 125
That I, a faithful servant of the Sovereign,
Had loaded
