Friedrich Schiller - The Death of Wallenstein

What asks the chancellor?

Twelve regiments, every man a Swede – my head
The warranty – and all might prove at last
Only false play —

Sir Swede!

Am therefore forced
To insist thereon, that he do formally,
Irrevocably break with the emperor,
Else not a Swede is trusted to Duke Friedland.

Come, brief and open! What is the demand?

That he forthwith disarm the Spanish regiments
Attached to the emperor, that he seize on Prague,
And to the Swedes give up that city, with
The strong pass Egra.

That is much indeed!
Prague! – Egra's granted – but – but Prague! 'Twon't do.
I give you every security
Which you may ask of me in common reason —
But Prague – Bohemia – these, sir general,
I can myself protect.

We doubt it not.
But 'tis not the protection that is now
Our sole concern. We want security,
That we shall not expend our men and money
All to no purpose.

'Tis but reasonable.

And till we are indemnified, so long
Stays Prague in pledge.

Then trust you us so little?

The Swede, if he would treat well with the German,
Must keep a sharp lookout. We have been called
Over the Baltic, we have saved the empire
From ruin – with our best blood have we sealed
The liberty of faith and gospel truth.
But now already is the benefaction
No longer felt, the load alone is felt.
Ye look askance with evil eye upon us,
As foreigners, intruders in the empire,
And would fain send us with some paltry sum
Of money, home again to our old forests.
No, no! my lord duke! it never was
For Judas' pay, for chinking gold and silver,

So many of our Swedish nobles – neither
Will we, with empty laurels for our payment,
Hoist sail for our own country. Citizens
Will we remain upon the soil, the which
Our monarch conquered for himself and died.

Help to keep down the common enemy,
And the fair border land must needs be yours.

But when the common enemy lies vanquished,
Who knits together our new friendship then?
We know, Duke Friedland! though perhaps the Swede
Ought not to have known it, that you carry on
Secret negotiations with the Saxons.
Who is our warranty that we are not
The sacrifices in those articles
Which 'tis thought needful to conceal from us?

Think you of something better, Gustave Wrangel!
Of Prague no more.

Here my commission ends.

Surrender up to you my capital!
Far liever would I force about, and step
Back to my emperor.

If time yet permits —

That lies with me, even now, at any hour.

Some days ago, perhaps. To-day, no longer;
No longer since Sesina's been a prisoner.

My lord duke, hear me – we believe that you
At present do mean honorably by us.
Since yesterday we're sure of that – and now
This paper warrants for the troops, there's nothing
Stands in the way of our full confidence.
Prague shall not part us. Hear! The chancellor
Contents himself with Alstadt; to your grace
He gives up Ratschin and the narrow side.
But Egra above all must open to us,
Ere we can think of any junction.

You,
You therefore must I trust, and not you me?
I will consider of your proposition.

I must entreat that your consideration
Occupy not too long a time. Already
Has this negotiation, my lord duke!
Crept on into the second year. If nothing
Is settled this time, will the chancellor
Consider it as broken off forever?

Ye press me hard. A measure such as this
Ought to be thought of.

Ay! but think of this too,
That sudden action only can procure it.
Success – think first of this, your highness.

Is't all right?

Are you compromised?

This Swede
Went smiling from you. Yes! you're compromised.

As yet is nothing settled; and (well weighed)
I feel myself inclined to leave it so.

How? What is that?

Come on me what will come,
The doing evil to avoid an evil
Cannot be good!

Nay, but bethink you, duke.

To live upon the mercy of these Swedes!
Of these proud-hearted Swedes! – I could not bear it.

Goest thou as fugitive, as mendicant?
Bringest thou not more to them than thou receivest?

How fared it with the brave and royal Bourbon
Who sold himself unto his country's foes,
And pierced the bosom of his father-land?
Curses were his reward, and men's abhorrence
Avenged the unnatural and revolting deed.

Is that thy case?

True faith, I tell thee,
Must ever be the dearest friend of man
His nature prompts him to assert its rights.
The enmity of sects, the rage of parties,
Long-cherished envy, jealousy, unite;'
And all the struggling elements of evil
Suspend their conflict, and together league
In one alliance 'gainst their common foe —
The savage beast that breaks into the fold,
Where men repose in confidence and peace.
For vain were man's own prudence to protect him.
'Tis only in the forehead nature plants
The watchful eye; the back, without defence,
Must find its shield in man's fidelity.