ELECTOR. That was not verified at Fehrbellin.

[_Pause._]

KOTTWITZ (_hesitantly_).

My liege, grant me a word.

ELECTOR. What is 't you wish?

Take all the things-flags, kettle-drums and standards, And hang them in the church. I plan tomorrow To use them when we celebrate our triumph!

[_The ELECTOR turns to the couriers, takes their dispatches, opens and reads them._]

KOTTWITZ (_aside_).

That, by the living G.o.d, that is too much!

[_After some hesitation, the Colonel takes up his two flags; the other officers and troopers follow suit. Finally, as the three flags of the_ PRINCE _remain untouched, he takes up these also, so that he is now bearing five._]

AN OFFICER (_stepping up to the_ PRINCE).

Prince, I must beg your sword.

HOHENZOLLERN (_carrying his flag_). Quiet now, friend.

THE PRINCE. Speak! Am I dreaming? Waking? Living? Sane?

GOLZ. Prince, give your sword, I counsel, and say nothing.

THE PRINCE. A prisoner? I?

HOHENZOLLERN. Indeed!

GOLZ. You heard him say it.

THE PRINCE. And may one know the reason why?

HOHENZOLLERN (_emphatically_). Not now!

We told you, at the time, you pressed too soon Into the battle, when the order was You should not quit your place till you were called.

THE PRINCE. Help, help, friends, help! I'm going mad!

GOLZ (_interrupting_). Calm! calm!

THE PRINCE. Were the Mark's armies beaten then?

HOHENZOLLERN (_with a stamp of his foot_). No matter!

The ordinance demands obedience.

THE PRINCE (_bitterly_).

So--so, so, so!

HOHENZOLLERN (_turning away from him_).

It will not cost your head.

GOLZ (_similarly_).

Tomorrow morning, maybe, you'll be free.

[_The_ ELECTOR _folds his letters and returns to the circle of officers._]

THE PRINCE (_after he has unbuckled his sword_).

My cousin Frederick hopes to play the Brutus And sees himself, on linen drawn with chalk, Already seated in the curule chair.

The foreground filled with Swedish battle-flags, And on his desk the ordinance of the Mark.

By G.o.d, in me he shall not find a son Who shall revere him 'neath the hangman's axe!

A German heart of honest cut and grain, I look for kindness and n.o.bility; And when he stands before me, frigidly, This moment, like some ancient man of stone, I'm sorry for him and I pity him.

[_He gives his sword to the officer and goes out._]

ELECTOR. Bring him to camp at Fehrbellin, and there a.s.semble the court-martial for his trial.

[_He enters the church. The flags follow him, and, while he and his retinue kneel in prayer at_ FROBEN's _coffin, are fastened to the pilasters. Funeral music._]

ACT III

_Scene: Fehrbellin. A prison._

SCENE I

_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. _Two troopers as guards in the rear._ COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _enters._

THE PRINCE. Faith, now, friend Harry! Welcome, man, you are!

Well, then, I'm free of my imprisonment?

HOHENZOLLERN (_amazed_).

Lord in the heavens be praised!

THE PRINCE. What was that?

HOHENZOLLERN. Free?

So then he's sent you back your sword again?

THE PRINCE. Me? No.

HOHENZOLLERN. No?

THE PRINCE. No.

HOHENZOLLERN. Then how can you be free?

THE PRINCE (after a pause).