terceded for the Dukes of Mecklenburgh; and equally
fruitless had been an application by the English ambassadors for a
pension to the Palatine Frederick.

Wallenstein was at the head of an army of nearly a hundred thousand men
who adored him, when the sentence of his dismissal arrived. Most of the
officers were his creatures:--with the common soldiers his hint was
law. His ambition was boundless, his pride indomitable, his imperious
spirit could not brook an injury unavenged. One moment would now
precipitate him from the height of grandeur into the obscurity of a
private station. To execute such a sentence upon such a delinquent
seemed to require more address than it cost to obtain it from the judge.
Accordingly, two of Wallenstein's most intimate friends were selected as
heralds of these evil tidings, and instructed to soften them as much as
possible, by flattering assurances of the continuance of the Emperor's
favour.

Wallenstein had ascertained the purport of their message before the
imperial ambassadors arrived. He had time to collect himself, and his
countenance exhibited an external calmness, while grief and rage were
storming in his bosom. He had made up his mind to obey. The Emperor's
decision had taken him by surprise before circumstances were ripe, or
his preparations complete, for the bold measures he had contemplated.
His extensive estates were scattered over Bohemia and Moravia; and by
their confiscation, the Emperor might at once destroy the sinews of his
power. He looked, therefore, to the future for revenge; and in this
hope he was encouraged by the predictions of an Italian astrologer, who
led his imperious spirit like a child in leading strings. Seni had read
in the stars, that his master's brilliant career was not yet ended; and
that bright and glorious prospects still awaited him. It was, indeed,
unnecessary to consult the stars to foretell that an enemy, Gustavus
Adolphus, would ere long render indispensable the services of such a
general as Wallenstein.

"The Emperor is betrayed," said Wallenstein to the messengers; "I pity
but forgive him. It is plain that the grasping spirit of the Bavarian
dictates to him. I grieve that, with so much weakness, he has
sacrificed me, but I will obey." He dismissed the emissaries with
princely presents; and in a humble letter besought the continuance of
the Emperor's favour, and of the dignities he had bestowed upon him.

The murmurs of the army were universal