ELECTOR. So?
In spite of it you led the cavalry?
THE PRINCE (regarding him).
I? Indeed, I! Must you learn that from me?
Here at your feet I laid the proof of that.
ELECTOR. Relieve him of his sword. He is a prisoner.
DÖRFLING (taken aback).
Whom?
ELECTOR (stepping among the flags).
Ah, God greet you, Kottwitz!
TRUCHSZ (aside). Curses on it!
KOTTWITZ. By God, I'm utterly—
ELECTOR (looking at him). What did you say?
Look, what a crop mown for our glory here!—
That flag is of the Swedish Guards, is't not?
[He takes up a flag, unwinds it and studies it.]
KOTTWITZ. My liege?
DÖRFLING. My lord and master?