He's a Bohemian fugitive and rebel,
His neck is forfeit. Can he save himself
At thy cost, think you he will scruple it?
And if they put him to the torture, will he,
Will he, that dastardling, have strength enough—
WALLENSTEIN (lost in thought).
Their confidence is lost, irreparably!
And I may act which way I will, I shall
Be and remain forever in their thought
A traitor to my country. How sincerely
Soever I return back to my duty,
It will no longer help me—
ILLO.
Ruin thee,
That it will do! Not thy fidelity,
Thy weakness will be deemed the sole occasion—
WALLENSTEIN (pacing up and down in extreme agitation).
What! I must realize it now in earnest,
Because I toy'd too freely with the thought!
Accursed he who dallies with a devil!
And must I—I must realize it now—
Now, while I have the power, it must take place?
ILLO.
Now—now—ere they can ward and parry it!
WALLENSTEIN (looking at the paper of signatures).