Max monologue (Act 2) — The Death of Wallenstein

War! is that the name? War is as frightful as heaven's pestilence, Yet it is good, is it heaven's will as that is. Is that a good war, which against the emperor Thou wagest with the emperor's own army? O God of heaven! what a change is this. Beseems it me to offer such persuasion To thee, who like the fixed star of the pole Wert all I gazed at on life's trackless ocean? O! what a rent thou makest in my heart! The ingrained instinct of old reverence, The holy habit of obediency, Must I pluck life asunder from thy name? Nay, do not turn thy countenance upon me-- It always was as a god looking upon me! Duke Wallenstein, its power has not departed; The senses still are in thy bonds, although Bleeding, the soul hath freed itself.