28
THE DEATH OF
In whose breast he means to plunge the sword.
This, this, Octavio, was no hero's deed:
'Twas not thy prudence that did conquer mine;
A bad heart triumph'd o'er an honest one.
No shield receiv'd the assassin stroke; thou plungest
Thy weapon on an unprotected breast—
Against such weapons I am but a child.
This, this, Octavio, was no hero's deed:
'Twas not thy prudence that did conquer mine;
A bad heart triumph'd o'er an honest one.
No shield receiv'd the assassin stroke; thou plungest
Thy weapon on an unprotected breast—
Against such weapons I am but a child.
SCENE X.
To these enter Butler.
TERTSKY. (meeting him.)
O look there! Butler! Here we've still a friend!
O look there! Butler! Here we've still a friend!
WALLENSTEIN.
(meets him with outspread arms, and embraces
him with warmth.)
Come to my heart, old comrade! Not the sun
Looks out upon us more revivingly
In the earliest month of spring,
Than a friend's countenance in such an hour.
(meets him with outspread arms, and embraces
him with warmth.)
Come to my heart, old comrade! Not the sun
Looks out upon us more revivingly
In the earliest month of spring,
Than a friend's countenance in such an hour.
BUTLER.
My General! I come—
My General! I come—
WALLENSTEIN.
(leaning on Butler's shoulder.)
Know'st thou already?
That old man has betray'd me to the Emperor.
What say't thou? Thirty years have we together
Liv'd out, and held out, sharing joy and hardship.
We have slept in one camp-bed, drunk from one glass,
(leaning on Butler's shoulder.)
Know'st thou already?
That old man has betray'd me to the Emperor.
What say't thou? Thirty years have we together
Liv'd out, and held out, sharing joy and hardship.
We have slept in one camp-bed, drunk from one glass,
One
