BUTLER. (passionately.)
General! This is not right!
WALLENSTEIN.
What is not right?
BUTLER.
It must needs injure us with all honest men.
WALLENSTEIN.
But what?
BUTLER.
It is an open proclamation
Of insurrection.
WALLENSTEIN.
Well, well—but what is it?
BUTLER.
Count Tertsky's regiments tear the Imperial Eagle
From off the banners, and instead of it,
Have rear'd aloft thy arms.
ANSPESSADE. (abruptly to the Cuirassiers.)
Right about! March!
WALLENSTEIN.
Curs'd be this counsel, and accurs'd who gave it!
(to the Cuirassiers, who are retiring.)
Halt, children, halt! There's some mistake in this!
Hark!-I will punish it severely. Stop!
They do not hear. (to Illo.) Go after them, assure them,
And bring them back to me, cost what it may.
(Illo hurries out.)
This hurls us headlong. Butler! Butler!
You are my evil genius, wherefore must you
Announce it in their presence? It was all
In a fair way. They were half won, those madmen
With their improvident over-readiness—
A cruel game is Fortune playing with me.
The zeal of friends it is that razes me,
And not the hate of enemies.