Destroyed the auxiliars, cut off all supplies,
Each day a myriad Germans died from need.
Now time approached to end by storm the war,
Or else bethink them of a swift return.
Then Wallenrod, in peace and confidence,
Rode to the chase, or, closed within his tent,
Forged secret treaties, and denied his captains
Admission to the councils of the war.
And thus in warlike fervour grew he cold,
That by his people’s tears untouched, unmoved,