What base intrigues, what lying artifices,
Have been employ'd—for this sole end—to sow
Mutiny in the camp! All bands are loos'd—
Loos'd all the bands that link the officer
To his liege Emperor, all that bind the soldier
Affectionately to the citizen.
Lawless he stands, and threat'ningly beleaguers
The state he's bound to guard. To such a height
'Tis swoln, that at this hour the Emperor
Before his armies—his own armies—trembles;
Yea, in his capital, his palace, fears
The traitor's poniard, and is meditating
To hurry off and hide his tender offspring
Not from the Swedes, not from the Lutherans—
No! from his own troops to hide and hurry them!
MAX.
That oft we tremble at an empty terror;
But the false phantasm brings a real misery.
OCTAVIO.
Of all the most unnatural and cruel,
Will burst out into flames, if instantly
We do not fly and stifle it. The Generals
Are many of them long ago won over;
The subalterns are vacillating—whole
Regiments and garrisons are vacillating.
To foreigners our strong holds are entrusted;
To that suspected Schafgotch is the whole
Force of Silesia given up: to Tertsky
