ST.

What now? Out with it, friend!

WRANGEL.

To break their oaths.

WALLENST.

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?

WALLENST.

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,
Unclaim'd 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 mem'ry lives
Of cruel deeds committed on these plains;
How can the son forget that here his father
Was hunted by the blood-hound to the mass?
A people thus oppress'd must still be feared,
Whether they suffer or avenge their wrongs.]

WRANGEL.

But then the Nobles and the Officers?
Such a desertion, such a felony,
It is without example, my Lord Duke,
In the world's history.

WALLENSTEIN.

They are all mine--
Mine unconditionally--mine on all terms.
Not me, your own eyes you must trust.

[_He gives him the paper containing the written oath._
WRANGEL _reads it through, and, having read it, lays it on
the table, remaining silent_.]

So then?
Now comprehend you?

WRANGEL.

Comprehend who can!
My Lord Duke, I will let the mask drop--yes!
I've full powers for a final settlement.
The Rhinegrave stands but four days' march from here
With fifteen thousand men, and only waits
For orders to proceed and join your army.
Those orders _I_ give out, immediately
We're compromised.

WALLENSTEIN.

What asks the Chancellor?

WRANGEL (_considerately_).

Twelve regiments, every man a Swede--my head
The warranty--and all might prove at last
Only false play--

WALLENSTEIN (_starting_).