TERZKY.

They have documents against us, and in hands,
Which show beyond all power of contradiction—­

WALLENST.

Of my handwriting—­no iota.  Thee
I punish for thy lies.

ILLO.

And thou believest,
That what this man, and what thy sister’s husband,
Did in thy name, will not stand on thy reck’ning?
His word must pass for thy word with the Swede,
And not with those that hate thee at Vienna?

TERZKY.

In writing thou gavest nothing—­But bethink thee,
How far thou ventured’st by word of mouth
With this Sesina!  And will he be silent? 
If he can save himself by yielding up
Thy secret purposes, will he retain them?

ILLO.

Thyself dost not conceive it possible;
And since they now have evidence authentic
How far thou hast already gone, speak!—­tell us,
What art thou waiting for?  Thou canst no longer
Keep thy command; and beyond hope of rescue
Thou’rt lost, if thou resign’st it.

WALLENSTEIN.

In the army
Lies my security.  The army will not
Abandon me.  Whatever they may know,
The power is mine, and they must gulp it down—­
And if I give them caution for my fealty,
They must be satisfied, at least appear so.

ILLO.

The army, Duke, is thine now—­for this moment—­
’Tis thine, but think with terror on the slow,
The quiet power of time.  From open violence
The attachment of thy soldiery secures thee
Today—­tomorrow:  but grant’st thou them a respite
Unheard, unseen, they’ll undermine that love
On which thou now dost feel so firm a footing,
With wily theft will draw away from thee
One after the other other—­

WALLENSTEIN.

          ’Tis a cursed accident!

ILLO.

Oh!  I will call it a most blessed one,
If it work on thee as it ought to do,
Hurry thee on to action—­to decision. 
The Swedish General—­

WALLENSTEIN.

He’s arrived!  Know’st thou
What his commission is—­

ILLO.

To thee alone
Will he intrust the purpose of his coming.

WALLENST.

A cursed, cursed accident!  Yes, yes,
Sesina knows too much, and won’t be silent.

TERZKY.

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—­