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 their wrongs.
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.
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?
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.
These orders I give out immediately
We're compromised.
What asks the chancellor?
Twelve regiments, every man a Swede – my head
The warranty – and all might prove at last
Only false play —
Sir Swede!
Am therefore forced
To insist thereon, that he do formally,
Irrevocably break with the emperor,
Else not a Swede is trusted to Duke Friedland.
Come, brief and open! What is the demand?
That he forthwith disarm the Spanish regiments
Attached to the emperor, that he seize on Prague,
And to the Swedes give up that city, with
The strong pass Egra.
That is much indeed!
Prague! – Egra's granted – but – but Prague! 'Twon't do.
I give you every security
Which you may ask of me in common reason —
But Prague – Bohemia – these, sir general,
I can myself protect.
We doubt it not.
But 'tis not the protection that is now
Our sole concern. We want security,
That we shall not expend our men and money
All to no purpose.
'Tis but reasonable.
And till we are indemnified, so long
Stays Prague in pledge.
Then trust you us so little?
The Swede, if he would treat well with the German,
Must keep a sharp lookout. We have been called
Over the Baltic, we have saved the empire
From ruin – with our best blood have we sealed
The liberty of faith and gospel truth.
But now already is the benefaction
No longer felt, the load alone is felt.
Ye look askance with evil eye upon us,
As foreigners, intruders in the empire,
And would fain send us with some paltry sum
Of money, home again to our old forests.
No, no! my lord duke! it never was
For Judas' pay, for chinking gold and silver,
That we did leave our king by the Great Stone.1 No, not for gold and silver have there bled
So many of our Swedish nobles – neither
Will we, with empty laurels for our payment,
Hoist sail for our own country. Citizens
Will we remain upon the soil, the which
Our monarch conquered for himself and died.
Help to keep down the common enemy,
And the fair border land must needs be yours.
But when the common enemy lies vanquished,
Who knits together our new friendship then?
We know, Duke Friedland! though perhaps the Swede
Ought not to have known it, that you carry on
Secret negotiations with the Saxons.
Who is our warranty that we are not
The sacrifices in those articles
Which 'tis thought needful to conceal from us?
Think you of something better, Gustave Wrangel!
Of Prague no more.