An able letter!—Ay—he is a prudent
Intelligent master whom you serve, Sir General!
The Chancellor writes me, that he but fulfils
His late departed Sovereign's own idea
In helping me to the Bohemian crown.
WRANGEL.
He says the truth. Our great King, now in heaven,
Did ever deem most highly of your Grace's
Preëminent sense and military genius;
And always the commanding Intellect,
He said, should have command, and be the King.
WALLENST.
Yes, he might say it safely.—General Wrangel,
[Taking his hand affectionately.]
Come, fair and open. Trust me, I was always
A Swede at heart. Eh! that did you experience
Both in Silesia and at Nuremberg;
I had you often in my power, and let you
Always slip out by some back door or other.
'Tis this for which the Court can ne'er forgive me,
Which drives me to this present step: and since
Our interests so run in one direction,
E'en let us have a thorough confidence
Each in the other.
WRANGEL.
Confidence will come
Has each but only first security.