WALLENSTEIN. Full many a bloody strife is fought in vain, Because its youthful general needs a victory. But 'tis the privilege of the old commander To spare the costs of fighting useless battles Merely to show that he knows how to conquer. It would have little helped my fame to boast Of conquest o'er an Arnheim; but far more Would my forbearance have availed my country, Had I succeeded to dissolve the alliance Existing 'twixt the Saxon and the Swede. QUESTENBERG. But you did not succeed, and so commenced The fearful strife anew. And here at length, Beside the river Oder did the duke Assert his ancient fame. Upon the fields Of Steinau did the Swedes lay down their arms, Subdued without a blow. And here, with others, The righteousness of heaven to his avenger Delivered that long-practised stirrer-up Of insurrection, that curse-laden torch And kindler of this war, Matthias Thurn. But he had fallen into magnanimous hands Instead of punishment he found reward, And with rich presents did the duke dismiss The arch-foe of his emperor. WALLENSTEIN (laughs). I know, I know you had already in Vienna Your windows and your balconies forestalled To see him on the executioner's cart. I might have lost the battle, lost it too With infamy, and still retained your graces-- But, to have cheated them of a spectacle, Oh! that the good folks of Vienna never, No, never can forgive me! QUESTENBERG. So Silesia Was freed, and all things loudly called the duke Into Bavaria, now pressed hard on all sides. And he did put his troops in motion: slowly, Quite at his ease, and by the longest road He traverses Bohemia; but ere ever He hath once seen the enemy, faces round, Breaks up the march, and takes to winter-quarters. WALLENSTEIN. The troops were pitiably destitute Of every necessary, every comfort, The winter came. What thinks his majesty His troops are made of? Aren't we men; subjected Like other men to wet, and cold, and all The circumstances of necessity? Oh, miserable lot of the poor soldier! Wherever he comes in all flee before him, And when he goes away the general curse Follows him on his route. All must be seized. Nothing is given him. And compelled to seize From every man he's every man's abhorrence. Behold, here stand my generals. Karaffa! Count Deodati! Butler! Tell this man How long the soldier's pay is in arrears. BUTLER. Already a full year. WALLENSTEIN. And 'tis the hire That constitutes the hireling's name and duties, The soldier's pay is the soldier's covenant. [8] QUESTENBERG. Ah! this is a far other tone from that In which the duke spoke eight, nine years ago.