Wrangel. Your Grace is known to be a mighty war-chief,
To be a second Attila and Pyrrhus. 65
'Tis talked of still with fresh astonishment,
How some years past, beyond all human faith,
You called an army forth, like a creation:
But yet——

Wallenstein. But yet?

Wrangel. But still the Chancellor thinks,
It might yet be an easier thing from nothing [70]
To call forth sixty thousand men of battle,
Than to persuade one sixtieth part of them—

Wallenstein. What now? Out with it, friend!

Wrangel. To break their oaths.

Wallenstein. And he thinks so?—He judges like a Swede,
And like a Protestant. You Lutherans [75]
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. [80]

Wrangel. Great God in Heaven! Have then the people here
No house and home, no fire-side, no altar?

Wallenstein. 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, 85
That calls itself the Imperial, this that houses
Here in Bohemia, this has none—no country;
[[695]] This is an outcast of all foreign lands,
Unclaimed by town or tribe, to whom belongs
Nothing, except the universal sun. 90

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. [95]
Not me, your own eyes you must trust.