About there and about, a stream of death,
  Hurtled grenades and cannon-shot and shell. 
  They that had lives to save fled to its banks. 
  He, the strong swimmer, he alone shrank not,
  But beckoning his friends, unswervingly
  Made toward the high lands whence the river came.

THE PRINCE.  By heaven, i’ faith!  A gruesome sight it was!

SPARREN.  Froben, the Master of the Horse who rode
  Closest to him of all, called out to me
  “Curses this hour on this white stallion’s hide,
  I bought in London for a stiff round sum! 
  I’d part with fifty ducats, I’ll be bound,
  Could I but veil him with a mouse’s gray.” 
  With hot misgiving he draws near and cries,
  “Highness, your horse is skittish; grant me leave
  To give him just an hour of schooling more.” 
  And leaping from his sorrel at the word
  He grasps the bridle of our liege’s beast. 
  Our liege dismounts, still smiling, and replies
  “As long as day is in the sky, I doubt
  If he will learn the art you wish to teach. 
  But give your lesson out beyond those hills
  Where the foe’s gunners will not heed his fault.” 
  Thereon he mounts the sorrel, Froben’s own,
  Returning thence to where his duty calls. 
  But scarce is Froben mounted on the white
  When from a breastwork, oh! a murder-shell
  Tears him to earth, tears horse and rider low. 
  A sacrifice to faithfulness, he falls;
  And from him not a sound more did we hear.

[Brief pause.]

THE PRINCE.  He is well paid for!  Though I had ten lives
  I could not lose them in a better cause!

NATALIE.  Valiant old Froben!

ELECTRESS (in tears).  Admirable man!

NATALIE (also weeping). 
  A meaner soul might well deserve our tears!

THE PRINCE.  Enough!  To business!  Where’s the Elector then
  Is Hackelwitz headquarters?

SPARREN.  Pardon, sir! 
  The Elector has proceeded to Berlin
  And begs his generals thence to follow him.

THE PRINCE.  What?  To Berlin?  You mean the war is done?

SPARREN.  Indeed, I marvel that all this is news. 
  Count Horn, the Swedish general, has arrived;
  And, following his coming, out of hand
  The armistice was heralded through camp. 
  A conference, if I discern aright
  The Marshal’s meaning, is attached thereto
  Perchance that peace itself may follow soon.

ELECTRESS (rising). 
  Dear God, how wondrously the heavens clear!

THE PRINCE.  Come, let us follow straightway to Berlin. 
  ’Twould speed my journey much if you could spare
  A little space for me within your coach?—­
  I’ve just a dozen words to write to Kottwitz,
  And on the instant I’ll be at your side.

[He sits down and writes.]

ELECTRESS.  Indeed, with all my heart!