upwards. And verily, it gives
A precedent of hope, a spur of action
To the whole corps, if once in their remembrance
An old deserving soldier makes his way.

BUTLER.
I am perplexed and doubtful whether or no
I dare accept this your congratulation.
The emperor has not yet confirmed the appointment.

ISOLANI.
Seize it, friend, seize it! The hand which in that post
Placed you is strong enough to keep you there,
Spite of the emperor and his ministers!

ILLO.
Ay, if we would but so consider it!--
If we would all of us consider it so!
The emperor gives us nothing; from the duke
Comes all--whate'er we hope, whate'er we have.

ISOLANI (to ILLO).
My noble brother! did I tell you how
The duke will satisfy my creditors?
Will be himself my bankers for the future,
Make me once more a creditable man!
And this is now the third time, think of that!
This kingly-minded man has rescued me
From absolute ruin and restored my honor.

ILLO.
Oh that his power but kept pace with his wishes!
Why, friend! he'd give the whole world to his soldiers.
But at Vienna, brother!--here's the grievance,--
What politic schemes do they not lay to shorten
His arm, and where they can to clip his pinions.
Then these new dainty requisitions! these
Which this same Questenberg brings hither!

BUTLER.
Ay!
Those requisitions of the emperor--
I too have heard about them; but I hope
The duke will not draw back a single inch!

ILLO.
Not from his right most surely, unless first
From office!

BUTLER (shocked and confused).
Know you aught then? You alarm me.

ISOLANI (at the same time with BUTLER, and in a hurrying voice).
We should be ruined, every one of us!

ILLO.
Yonder I see our worthy friend [spoken with a sneer] approaching
With the Lieutenant-General Piccolomini.

BUTLER (shaking his head significantly).
I fear we shall not go hence as we came.

SCENE II.

Enter OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI and QUESTENBERG.

OCTAVIO (still in the distance).
Ay! ah! more still! Still more new visitors!
Acknowledge, friend! that never was a camp,
Which held at once so many heads of heroes.

QUESTENBERG.
Let none approach a camp of Friedland's troops
Who dares to think unworthily of war;
E'en I myself had nigh forgot its evils
When I surveyed that lofty soul of order,
By which, while it destroys the world--itself
Maintains the greatness which itself created.

OCTAVIO (approaching nearer).
Welcome, Count Isolani!