LESLIE

Though a stranger Sir, And so less interested in the Generals cause Then you his Countryman: were you not my friend, You lied to speak it. Must our General That soul of valour Wallenstein ; who has (Like subtle lightning) purged the Germane air, From all the hight infections, foreign war Could threaten: sent the health-carousing Dane Drunk with his own blood home: broke all the force, With which the valiant Palatine and his aids. Infested had the Province: given to Death (That thunderbolt of war) whose very name Was great as Fate it self unto his foes, The Swedish King: and must he now, his age Is candid over with victories, be enforced To a base Death he's damned That dare but mutter it It's concluded Sir, Passed all redemption, they are doubly damned For their ingratitude, displace a man To whom they owe their lives! one whom, my Lords, We have seen i'th heat and bravery of a fight, Cheer up his fainting and disheartened troops, Even when his body seemed but all one wound, That it appeared a little Island, circled Round with the purple deluge of his blood; Who when wars Quiruters, the big-mouth'd Drums, And surly Trumpet sung his Armies Dirge, That fatal Music swelled his sprightly sense More then soft Hymns at Nuptials. I'll tell you, There is in Princes Courts a lean-faced monster, Termed Envy, reigning in unworthy breasts, To fame's Heroic sons, such as know to cringe With subtle motion to their Princes smiles, Adore his footsteps and his awful nods, And can Like Asps instill into his ears, A sweet yet killing venom: these thin souls When the blunt Soldier, has on piles of wounds Built up his Countries peace, whisper Beware In time my Lord, least he do grow too great: This meeting with the jealous Princes fears, (As Princes still are fearful of the greatness Of rising active Subject's) breeds resolves to cut up That prop, leaning on which themselves have stood, Firm and unshaken on their base; and these Court Parasites, and emperors weak distrusts, Puls this disgrace on Fridland, which if he With and effeminate patience do put up, May all the Laurels growing on his Crest. Be turned to Cyprisse, serving for no use But to adorn his Funerals. Great Sir, though a stranger to you By birth and nation, yet the strict alliance I've to your princely nobleness, enjoins me Under your pardon, and with the allowance Of these brave Counts, your followers, to deliver My zealous counsel to you. Thus great Sir then, Thought be i'th power of Princes to prescribe Laws to their Subject's, it's their Subject's wills Must put those Laws in act, it's their obedience, Which are the ablest sinews of the state, And 'twere a barbarous cruelty to employ Their hands against themselves, a strange injustice, To make their proper virtue instrument Of their own ruin. Do not Lords Misunderstand my meaning, I speak not this, That I contemn authority, or dislike Order in every thing, without preeminence In title of command our trade the warfare Could not subsist, but to inform our General, Our too much injured General, that it is No such strange crime, to disobey a Prince In things injust; and can there be a greater, Or shamefuller injustice then for Caesar, By's Mandate to enforce him to resign His glorious charge up? Here then Ends what I would have uttered; of what force Are Caesars Mandates, when their real loves Has disannulled them? circled with these hearts, These bulwarks of brave hearts, what needs have you To acknowledge any Emperor but your self? Your self great Duke, whose merit lays just claim To that supremest title. Pray once more, Give me your patience: Rashness, Gentlemen, Gives the first onset fiercely, then recoils, As Wasps when they have lost their stings: affairs Of this high consequence, do require mature Deliberation: to confirm our own Strength for the exploit, 'twere fit we did conjoin With Saxon Waymar and Gustavus Horn, And the other bold confederates: how likes Your Grace this project? So, let the dull Half-spirited souls, who strive on reremice wings, By that which fools term honesty, to climb Toth' top of honour, in their silly virtue Boast, while ingenious and more active spirits, In a direct line without stop or hindrance, Mount to their wishes, yet ith'worlds esteem, Are held as real, and endued with goodness. This Wallenstein, Like a good easy Mule, Have I led on byth' nose to this rebellion, Fired with such venom as will spread, Like swift infection through his soul: these two Shall be my agents to achieve my ends, Factors in cunning to vent forth my intentions, Lieutenant Colonel Gordon, and my good Captain Butler. Faith I was studying On our great Generals Fortune's, upon which Our Hope's and lives depend; what think you of them? It's a sign, Corruption is within them, noble friends, You are my countrymen, and if my life May preserve yours from ruin, I shall deem it Religiously employed: if you discover What I intend to utter, it'll but send My age some hours before its destined minute, Unto my grave, and I most willingly, Shall die the causes martyr. Thus then friends, Rebellion never yet could boast a happy Or prosperous perjod, Wallensteins designs Are built on sand, and with the Emperors breath Will be dispersed into the air; I speak not this, That I do hate the man, heavens know I love His person, but detest the cause he justifies. Shall we then, Here in a strange country, violate The Laws of hospitality, unmake the ancient faith Ascribed unto our Nation, by assisting A Traitor against his lawful Prince, a General Against that power which gave him that command, Betray that royal Master, to whose bounty We owe our lives: first rather let's resolve, To open all his treasons, his proceedings, Unto our Lord the Emperor. 'Twere mere madness, And he that does mislike it, bears no brain, No soul about him: Instead of slight preferment, Which (should our General prosper) we at best, Could but expect, we shall have Castles, Lordship's, Earldoms, nay Provinces, Be stiled the savers, Preservers of the Empire, have our names, As 'twere in triumph sung about the streets, In popular acclamations, think then friends, How far these certain honours will surpass Our aery expectations: come let's post Straight to Vienna, and inform the Emperor Of all's proceedings, in this great affair, We must not use our fortune, but our care. Exeunt. Most mighty Caesar, To endear the service to you, I shall do you, By guilding over each circumstance, its weight And consequence, since it's my bounden duty, To you, my royal Master, would but show, Pride and arrogant love in me the author, To my own act, and so 'twould rather lessen Then amplify my merit; how I've served you Under command of him, whom in endue justice I cannot mention now without foul curses, Revolted Wallenstein is to these Lords, And your great self best known. But when I saw him Put off his faith, abandon his allegiance, Accounting all your bounteous favors trifles, Unto the mountainous pile of his deservings, And Like a black cloud hung over all your Empire, Uncertain where to break and in's vast thoughts, Aspired your sacred dignity and life, I Like his Genius skrewd into his counsels, Explored his plots and treasons, and have found them So full of eminent danger. Empty of worth and honour, it had been A sin beyond the horridest punishments, To have concealed them from you, and which most Tortures my loyal thoughts, as't had not been Sufficient for him to rebel himself, He has firmed a league defensive and offensive, With your most eager enemies, Saxon Waymar, Branàenburg, Arheim, and Gustavus Horn, And had a personal meeting for that purpose, 'Twas and office, We should have begged, beleev't he's dead already, I'll kill him in his pride, in all his glories, With such security, as I would sleep After a tedious watching. Are all your horse in readiness. So great a business, Is not with easy speed to be performed: And eager haste ofttimes overthrows the Fortune's Of such affairs, if we once get him hither, Within our City walls, be confident, He's in his grave; but have you given command, That all your Soldiers be in readiness, To wait the Generals entry. Oh by all means, Indian princes Do carry slaves to wait on them into The other world, and 'twere inglorious, That our brave General should not have that privilege Count Tertzki, Kintzki, Newma, Marshal Illawe, Shall be his harbingers, and i'th' shades below, Provide fit entertainment for his Ghost. Very true, I'll craftily instill into his ears, New causes of distrust, so to beget In him more confidence of my faith, so to Allure him hither sooner, we must work Surely, as does the Mole, who digs Her habitation in the earth, and scorns! All the assaults of tempests; when he's in, We must be prompt in Actium, sure of hand, And found of heart, and strike him with that violence, From the supposed Heavens, His ambition climbs to, that the thin air Does from its purer Regions Dull earthly meteors; come let's away, Nought crosses actions Like a dull delay. Exeunt. New temptations Sir Against your precious life, it's to be feared, Lest seeing we do slack so in performance Of what we've promised, he'l employ new agents To attempt your ruin, and should treason, As it's a subtle serpent, stings unseen Sir, Invade your life: to what a dire misfortune Were we, whose lives have upon your dependence, Betrayed, and therefore good my Lord beware, Lest your own courage, which contemns all dangers, Do undo you. The honour you have done us mighty Duke, By this your gracious presence, gives a perjod To our ambition; Egers is grown proud, Dares with Vienna stand in competition, Which is the capital City, which does hold The true and lawful Caesar. It's our general grief, Ought should disturb your quiet here, when we Were all composed of triumph, for the joy We do conceive for your arrival. My noble Lord of Tertzki, these are the welcomes Full bowls of sprightly Wine that Soldiers use In entertainment; to our Generals health, And to his good recovery from his melancholy. We'll attend your Grace. I'm sorry, He should be thus distempered here. My Lord Let not our Generals sadness rob us of Our late intended jollity: Colonel Newma You'd wont to be all air: I hope, you are not Turned earth o'th' sudden. Yes Traitor-duke, 'twas we, who out thy soul From thy weak twist of life, we who glory More in performing this brave act of justice, Then had we gained the Empire thy ambition Aspired to, thy base treacheries to Caesar, Are by us revenged. Let us convey the body in, ard post With all speed to Vienna, and give notice Toth' Emperor of our proceedings; thus every Traitor shall, Stead of a Crown, meet his own Funeral. These triumphs Shall be but funeral pomps before his death; Gordon, you must, as Governor of Egers, Present the keys with all humility To his dispose, it'll make him be more careless, And trust his very soul into our hands.