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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6785-h.zip b/6785-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bee77c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/6785-h.zip diff --git a/6785-h/6785-h.htm b/6785-h/6785-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a79595 --- /dev/null +++ b/6785-h/6785-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2477 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" name="linkgenerator" /> + <title> + The Camp of Wallenstein + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Camp of Wallenstein, by Friedrich Schiller + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Camp of Wallenstein + A Play + +Author: Friedrich Schiller + +Release Date: October 26, 2006 [EBook #6785] +Last Updated: November 6, 2012 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN *** + + + + +Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <h1> + THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Friedrich Schiller + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by James Churchill. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The Camp of Wallenstein is an introduction to the celebrated tragedy of + that name; and, by its vivid portraiture of the state of the general's + army, gives the best clue to the spell of his gigantic power. The blind + belief entertained in the unfailing success of his arms, and in the + supernatural agencies by which that success is secured to him; the + unrestrained indulgence of every passion, and utter disregard of all law, + save that of the camp; a hard oppression of the peasantry and plunder of + the country, have all swollen the soldiery with an idea of interminable + sway. But as we have translated the whole, we shall leave these reckless + marauders to speak for themselves. + </p> + <p> + Of Schiller's opinion concerning the Camp, as a necessary introduction to + the tragedy, the following passage taken from the prologue to the first + representation, will give a just idea, and may also serve as a motto to + the work:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Not he it is, who on the tragic scene + Will now appear—but in the fearless bands + Whom his command alone could sway, and whom + His spirit fired, you may his shadow see, + Until the bashful Muse shall dare to bring + Himself before you in a living form; + For power it was that bore his heart astray + His Camp, alone, elucidates his crime." +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN.</b></big> + </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> DRAMATIS PERSONAE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> SCENE I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> SCENE II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> SCENE III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> SCENE IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> SCENE V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> SCENE VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> SCENE VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> SCENE VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> SCENE IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> SCENE X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> SCENE XI. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sergeant-Major | of a regiment of Recruit. + Trumpeter | Terzky's carabineers. Citizen. + Artilleryman, Peasant. + Sharpshooters. Peasant Boy. + Mounted Yagers, of Holk's corps. Capuchin. + Dragoons, of Butler's regiment. Regimental Schoolmaster. + Arquebusiers, of Tiefenbach's regiment. Sutler-Woman. + Cuirassier, of a Walloon regiment. Servant Girl. + Cuirassier, of a Lombard regiment. Soldiers' Boys. + Croats. Musicians. + Hulans. + + (SCENE.—The Camp before Pilsen, in Bohemia.) +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE I. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sutlers' tents—in front, a Slop-shop. Soldiers of all colors and + uniforms thronging about. Tables all filled. Croats and Hulans + cooking at a fire. Sutler-woman serving out wine. Soldier-boys + throwing dice on a drum-head. Singing heard from the tent. + + Enter a Peasant and his Son. + + SON. + Father, I fear it will come to harm, + So let us be off from this soldier swarm; + But boist'rous mates will ye find in the shoal— + 'Twere better to bolt while our skins are whole. + + FATHER. + How now, boy! the fellows wont eat us, though + They may be a little unruly, or so. + See, yonder, arriving a stranger train, + Fresh comers are they from the Saal and Mayne; + Much booty they bring of the rarest sort— + 'Tis ours, if we cleverly drive our sport. + A captain, who fell by his comrade's sword, + This pair of sure dice to me transferred; + To-day I'll just give them a trial to see + If their knack's as good as it used to be. + You must play the part of a pitiful devil, + For these roaring rogues, who so loosely revel, + Are easily smoothed, and tricked, and flattered, + And, free as it came, their gold is scattered. + But we—since by bushels our all is taken, + By spoonfuls must ladle it back again; + And, if with their swords they slash so highly, + We must look sharp, boy, and do them slyly. + + [Singing and shouting in the tent. + + Hark, how they shout! God help the day! + 'Tis the peasant's hide for their sport must pay. + Eight months in our beds and stalls have they + Been swarming here, until far around + Not a bird or a beast is longer found, + And the peasant, to quiet his craving maw, + Has nothing now left but his bones to gnaw. + Ne'er were we crushed with a heavier hand, + When the Saxon was lording it o'er the land: + And these are the Emperor's troops, they say! + + SON. + From the kitchen a couple are coming this way, + Not much shall we make by such blades as they. + + FATHER. + They're born Bohemian knaves—the two— + Belonging to Terzky's carabineers, + Who've lain in these quarters now for years; + The worst are they of the worthless crew. + Strutting, swaggering, proud and vain, + They seem to think they may well disdain + With the peasant a glass of his wine to drain + But, soft—to the left o' the fire I see + Three riflemen, who from the Tyrol should be + Emmerick, come, boy, to them will we. + Birds of this feather 'tis luck to find, + Whose trim's so spruce, and their purse well lined. + + [They move towards the tent. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The above—Sergeant-Major, Trumpeter, Hulan. + + TRUMPETER. + What would the boor? Out, rascal, away! + + PEASANT. + Some victuals and drink, worthy masters, I pray, + For not a warm morsel we've tasted to day. + + TRUMPETER. + Ay, guzzle and guttle—'tis always the way. + + HULAN (with a glass). + Not broken your fast! there—drink, ye hound! + + He leads the peasant to the tent—the others come forward. + + SERGEANT (to the Trumpeter). + Think ye they've done it without good ground? + Is it likely they double our pay to-day, + Merely that we may be jolly and gay? + + TRUMPETER. + Why, the duchess arrives to-day, we know, + And her daughter too— + + SERGEANT. + Tush! that's mere show— + 'Tis the troops collected from other lands + Who here at Pilsen have joined our bands— + We must do the best we can t' allure 'em, + With plentiful rations, and thus secure 'em. + Where such abundant fare they find, + A closer league with us to bind. + + TRUMPETER. + Yes!—there's something in the wind. + + SERGEANT. + The generals and commanders too— + + TRUMPETER. + A rather ominous sight, 'tis true. + + SERGEANT. + Who're met together so thickly here— + + TRUMPETER. + Have plenty of work on their hands, that's clear. + + SERGEANT. + The whispering and sending to and fro— + + TRUMPETER. + Ay! Ay! + + SERGEANT. + The big-wig from Vienna, I trow, + Who since yesterday's seen to prowl about + In his golden chain of office there— + Something's at the bottom of this, I'll swear. + + TRUMPETER. + A bloodhound is he beyond a doubt, + By whom the duke's to be hunted out. + + SERGEANT. + Mark ye well, man!—they doubt us now, + And they fear the duke's mysterious brow; + He hath clomb too high for them, and fain + Would they beat him down from his perch again. + + TRUMPETER. + But we will hold him still on high— + That all would think as you and I! + + SERGEANT. + Our regiment, and the other four + Which Terzky leads—the bravest corps + Throughout the camp, are the General's own, + And have been trained to the trade by himself alone + The officers hold their command of him, + And are all his own, or for life or limb. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE III. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter Croat with a necklace. Sharpshooter following him. + The above. + + SHARPSHOOTER. + Croat, where stole you that necklace, say? + Get rid of it man—for thee 'tis unmeet: + Come, take these pistols in change, I pray. + + CROAT. + Nay, nay, Master Shooter, you're trying to cheat. + + SHARPSHOOTER. + Then I'll give you this fine blue cap as well, + A lottery prize which just I've won: + Look at the cut of it—quite the swell! + + CROAT (twirling the Necklace in the Sun). + But this is of pearls and of garnets bright, + See, how it plays in the sunny light! + + SHARPSHOOTER (taking the Necklace). + Well, I'll give you to boot, my own canteen— + I'm in love with this bauble's beautiful sheen. + [Looks at it. + + TRUMPETER. + See, now!—how cleanly the Croat is done + Snacks! Master Shooter, and mum's the word. + + CROAT (having put on the cap). + I think your cap is a smartish one. + + SHARPSHOOTER (winking to the Trumpeter). + 'Tis a regular swop, as these gents have heard. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IV. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The above. An Artilleryman. + + ARTILLERYMAN (to the Sergeant). + How is this I pray, brother carabineer? + Shall we longer stay here, our fingers warming, + While the foe in the field around is swarming? + + SERGEANT. + Art thou, indeed, in such hasty fret? + Why the roads, as I think, are scarce passable yet. + + ARTILLERYMAN. + For me they are not—I'm snug enough here— + But a courier's come, our wits to waken + With the precious news that Ratisbon's taken. + + TRUMPETER. + Ha! then we soon shall have work in hand. + + SERGEANT. + Indeed! to protect the Bavarian's land, + Who hates the duke, as we understand, + We won't put ourselves in a violent sweat. + + ARTILLERYMAN. + Heyday!—you'll find you're a wiseacre yet. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE V. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The above—Two Yagers. Afterwards Sutler-woman, + Soldier-boy, Schoolmaster, Servant-girl. + + FIRST YAGER. + See! see! + Here meet we a jovial company! + + TRUMPETER. + Who can these greencoats be, I wonder, + That strut so gay and sprucely yonder! + + SERGEANT. + They're the Yagers of Holk—and the lace they wear, + I'll be sworn, was ne'er purchased at Leipzig fair. + + SUTLER-WOMAN (bringing wine). + Welcome, good sirs! + + FIRST YAGER. + Zounds, how now? + Gustel of Blasewitz here, I vow! + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + The same in sooth—and you I know, + Are the lanky Peter of Itzeho: + Who at Glueckstadt once, in revelling night, + With the wags of our regiment, put to flight + All his father's shiners—then crowned the fun— + + FIRST YAGER. + By changing his pen for a rifle-gun. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + We're old acquaintance, then, 'tis clear. + + FIRST YAGER. + And to think we should meet in Bohemia here! + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + Oh, here to-day—to-morrow yonder— + As the rude war-broom, in restless trace, + Scatters and sweeps us from place to place. + Meanwhile I've been doomed far round to wander. + + FIRST YAGER. + So one would think, by the look of your face. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + Up the country I've rambled to Temsewar, + Whither I went with the baggage-car, + When Mansfeld before us we chased away; + With the duke near Stralsund next we lay, + Where trade went all to pot, I may say. + I jogged with the succors to Mantua; + And back again came, under Feria: + Then, joining a Spanish regiment, + I took a short cut across to Ghent; + And now to Bohemia I'm come to get + Old scores paid off, that are standing yet, + If a helping hand by the duke be lent— + And yonder you see my sutler's tent. + + FIRST YAGER. + Well, all things seem in a flourishing way, + But what have you done with the Scotchman, say, + Who once in the camp was your constant flame? + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + A villain, who tricked me clean, that same + He bolted, and took to himself whate'er + I'd managed to scrape together, or spare, + Leaving me naught but the urchin there. + + SOLDIER-BOY (springing forward). + Mother, is it my papa you name? + + FIRST YAGER. + Well, the emperor now must father this elf, + For the army must ever recruit itself. + + SCHOOLMASTER. + Forth to the school, ye rogue—d'ye hear? + + FIRST YAGER. + He, too, of a narrow room has fear. + + SERVANT GIRL (entering). + Aunt, they'll be off. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + I come apace. + + FIRST YAGER. + What gypsy is that with the roguish face? + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + My sister's child from the south, is she. + + FIRST YAGER. + Ay, ay, a sweet little niece—I see. + + SECOND YAGER (holding the girl). + Softly, my pretty one! stay with me. + + GIRL. + The customers wait, sir, and I must go. + [Disengages herself, and exit. + + FIRST YAGER. + That maiden's a dainty morsel, I trow! + And her aunt—by heaven! I mind me well,— + When the best of the regiment loved her so, + To blows for her beautiful face they fell. + What different folks one's doomed to know! + How time glows off with a ceaseless flow! + And what sights as yet we may live to see! + (To the Sergeant and Trumpeter.) + Your health, good sirs, may we be free, + A seat beside you here to take? +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VI. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Yagers, Sergeant, and Trumpeter. + + SERGEANT. + We thank ye—and room will gladly make. + To Bohemia welcome. + + FIRST YAGER. + Snug enough here! + In the land of the foe our quarters were queer. + + TRUMPETER. + You haven't the look on't—you're spruce to view. + + SERGEANT. + Ay, faith, on the Saal, and in Meissen, too, + Your praises are heard from the lips of few. + + SECOND YAGER. + Tush, man! why, what the plague d'ye mean? + The Croat had swept the fields so clean, + There was little or nothing for us to glean. + + TRUMPETER. + Yet your pointed collar is clean and sightly, + And, then, your hose that sit so tightly! + Your linen so fine, with the hat and feather, + Make a show of smartness altogether! + (To Sergeant.) + That fortune should upon younkers shine— + While nothing in your way comes, or mine. + + SERGEANT. + But then we're the Friedlander's regiment + And, thus, may honor and homage claim. + + FIRST YAGER. + For us, now, that's no great compliment, + We, also, bear the Friedlander's name. + + SERGEANT. + True—you form part of the general mass. + + FIRST YAGER. + And you, I suppose, are a separate class! + The difference lies in the coats we wear, + And I have no wish to change with you there. + + SERGEANT. + Sir Yager, I can't but with pity melt, + When I think how much among boors you've dwelt. + The clever knack and the proper tone, + Are caught by the general's side alone. + + FIRST YAGER. + Then the lesson is wofully thrown away,— + How he hawks and spits, indeed, I may say + You've copied and caught in the cleverest way; + But his spirit, his genius—oh, these I ween, + On your guard parade are but seldom seen. + + SECOND YAGER. + Why, zounds! ask for us wherever you will, + Friedland's wild hunt is our title still! + Never shaming the name, all undaunted we go + Alike through the field of a friend, or a foe; + Through the rising stalk, or the yellow corn, + Well know they the blast of Holk's Yager horn. + In the flash of an eye, we are far or near, + Swift as the deluge, or there or here— + As at midnight dark, when the flames outbreak + In the silent dwelling where none awake; + Vain is the hope in weapons or flight, + Nor order nor discipline thwart its might. + Then struggles the maid in our sinewy arms, + But war hath no pity, and scorns alarms. + Go, ask—I speak not with boastful tongue— + In Bareuth, Westphalia, Voigtland, where'er + Our troops have traversed—go, ask them there— + Children and children's children long, + When hundreds and hundreds of years are o'er, + Of Holk will tell and his Yager corps. + + SERGEANT. + Why, hark! Must a soldier then be made + By driving this riotous, roaring trade! + 'Tis drilling that makes him, skill and sense— + Perception—thought—intelligence. + + FIRST YAGER. + 'Tis liberty makes him! Here's a fuss! + That I should such twaddle as this discuss. + Was it for this that I left the school? + That the scribbling desk, and the slavish rule, + And the narrow walls, that our spirits cramp, + Should be met with again in the midst of the camp? + No! Idle and heedless, I'll take my way, + Hunting for novelty every day; + Trust to the moment with dauntless mind, + And give not a glance or before or behind. + For this to the emperor I sold my hide, + That no other care I might have to bide. + Through the foe's fierce firing bid me ride, + Through fathomless Rhine, in his roaring flow, + Where ev'ry third man to the devil may go, + At no bar will you find me boggling there; + But, farther than this, 'tis my special prayer, + That I may not be bothered with aught like care. + + SERGEANT. + If this be your wish, you needn't lack it, + 'Tis granted to all with the soldier's jacket. + + FIRST YAGER. + What a fuss and a bother, forsooth, was made + By that man-tormentor, Gustavus, the Swede, + Whose camp was a church, where prayers were said + At morning reveille and evening tattoo; + And, whenever it chanced that we frisky grew, + A sermon himself from the saddle he'd read. + + SERGEANT. + Ay, that was a man with the fear of God. + + FIRST YAGER. + Girls he detested; and what's rather odd, + If caught with a wench you in wedlock were tacked,— + I could stand it no longer, so off I packed. + + SERGEANT. + Their discipline now has a trifle slacked. + + FIRST YAGER. + Well, next to the League I rode over; their men + Were mustering in haste against Magdeburg then. + Ha! that was another guess sort of a thing! + In frolic and fun we'd a glorious swing; + With gaming, and drinking, and girls at call, + I'faith, sirs, our sport was by no means small. + For Tilly knew how to command, that's plain; + He held himself in but gave us the rein; + And, long as he hadn't the bother of paying, + "Live and let live!" was the general's saying. + But fortune soon gave him the slip; and ne'er + Since the day of that villanous Leipzig affair + Would aught go aright. 'Twas of little avail + That we tried, for our plans were sure to fail. + If now we drew nigh and rapped at the door, + No greeting awaited, 'twas opened no more; + From place to place we went sneaking about, + And found that their stock of respect was out; + Then touched I the Saxon bounty, and thought + Their service with fortune must needs be fraught. + + SERGEANT. + You joined them then just in the nick to share + Bohemia's plunder? + + FIRST YAGER. + I'd small luck there. + Strict discipline sternly ruled the day, + Nor dared we a foeman's force display; + They set us to guard the imperial forts, + And plagued us all with the farce of the courts. + War they waged as a jest 'twere thought— + And but half a heart to the business brought, + They would break with none; and thus 'twas plain + Small honor among them could a soldier gain. + So heartily sick in the end grew I + That my mind was the desk again to try; + When suddenly, rattling near and far, + The Friedlander's drum was heard to war. + + SERGEANT. + And how long here may you mean to stay? + + FIRST YAGER. + You jest, man. So long as he bears the sway, + By my soul! not a thought of change have I; + Where better than here could the soldier lie? + Here the true fashion of war is found, + And the cut of power's on all things round; + While the spirit whereby the movement's given + Mightily stirs, like the winds of heaven, + The meanest trooper in all the throng. + With a hearty step shall I tramp along + On a burgher's neck as undaunted tread + As our general does on the prince's head. + As 'twas in the times of old 'tis now, + The sword is the sceptre, and all must bow. + One crime alone can I understand, + And that's to oppose the word of command. + What's not forbidden to do make bold, + And none will ask you what creed you hold. + Of just two things in this world I wot, + What belongs to the army and what does not, + To the banner alone is my service brought. + + SERGEANT. + Thus, Yager, I like thee—thou speakest, I vow, + With the tone of a Friedland trooper now. + + FIRST YAGER. + 'Tis not as an office he holds command, + Or a power received from the emperor's hand; + For the emperor's service what should he care, + What better for him does the emperor fare? + With the mighty power he wields at will, + Has ever he sheltered the land from ill? + No; a soldier-kingdom he seeks to raise, + And for this would set the world in a blaze, + Daring to risk and to compass all— + + TRUMPETER. + Hush—who shall such words as these let fall? + + FIRST YAGER. + Whatever I think may be said by me, + For the general tells us the word is free. + + SERGEANT. + True—that he said so I fully agree, + I was standing by. "The word is free— + The deed is dumb—obedience blind!" + His very words I can call to mind. + + FIRST YAGER. + I know not if these were his words or no, + But he said the thing, and 'tis even so. + + SECOND YAGER. + Victory ne'er will his flag forsake, + Though she's apt from others a turn to take: + Old Tilly outlived his fame's decline, + But under the banner of Wallenstein, + There am I certain that victory's mine! + Fortune is spell-bound to him, and must yield; + Whoe'er under Friedland shall take the field + Is sure of a supernatural shield: + For, as all the world is aware full well, + The duke has a devil in hire from hell. + + SERGEANT. + In truth that he's charmed is past a doubt, + For we know how, at Luetzen's bloody affair, + Where firing was thickest he still was there, + As coolly as might be, sirs, riding about. + The hat on his head was shot thro' and thro', + In coat and boots the bullets that flew + Left traces full clear to all men's view; + But none got so far as to scratch off his skin, + For the ointment of hell was too well rubbed in. + + FIRST YAGER. + What wonders so strange can you all see there? + An elk-skin jacket he happens to wear, + And through it the bullets can make no way. + + SERGEANT. + 'Tis an ointment of witches' herbs, I say, + Kneaded and cooked by unholy spell. + + TRUMPETER. + No doubt 'tis the work of the powers of hell. + + SERGEANT. + That he reads in the stars we also hear, + Where the future he sees—distant or near— + But I know better the truth of the case + A little gray man, at the dead of night, + Through bolted doors to him will pace— + The sentinels oft have hailed the sight, + And something great was sure to be nigh, + When this little gray-coat had glided by. + + FIRST YAGER. + Ay, ay, he's sold himself to the devil, + Wherefore, my lads, let's feast and revel. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VII. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The above—Recruit, Citizen, Dragoon. + + (The Recruit advances from the tent, wearing a tin cap + on his head, and carrying a wine-flask.) + + RECRUIT. + To father and uncle pray make my bow, + And bid 'em good-by—I'm a soldier now. + + FIRST YAGER. + See, yonder they're bringing us something new, + + CITIZEN. + Oh, Franz, remember, this day you'll rue. + + RECRUIT (sings). + The drum and the fife, + War's rattling throng, + And a wandering life + The world along! + Swift steed—and a hand + To curb and command— + With a blade by the side, + We're off far and wide. + As jolly and free, + As the finch in its glee, + On thicket or tree, + Under heaven's wide hollow— + Hurrah! for the Friedlander's banner I'll follow! + + SECOND YAGER. + Foregad! a jolly companion, though. + + [They salute him. + + CITIZEN. + He comes of good kin; now pray let him go. + + FIRST YAGER. + And we wern't found in the streets you must know. + + CITIZEN. + I tell you his wealth is a plentiful stock; + Just feel the fine stuff that he wears for a frock. + + TRUMPETER. + The emperor's coat is the best he can wear. + + CITIZEN. + To a cap manufactory he is the heir. + + SECOND YAGER. + The will of a man is his fortune alone. + + CITIZEN. + His grandmother's shop will soon be his own. + + FIRST YAGER. + Pish! traffic in matches! who would do't? + + CITIZEN. + A wine-shop his grandfather leaves, to boot, + A cellar with twenty casks of wine. + + TRUMPETER. + These with his comrades he'll surely share. + + SECOND YAGER. + Hark ye, lad—be a camp-brother of mine. + + CITIZEN. + A bride he leaves sitting, in tears, apart. + + FIRST YAGER. + Good—that now's a proof of an iron heart. + + CITIZEN. + His grandmother's sure to die with sorrow. + + SECOND YAGER. + The better—for then he'll inherit to-morrow. + + SERGEANT (advances gravely, and lays his hand on the + Recruit's tin cap). + The matter no doubt you have duly weighed, + And here a new man of yourself have made; + With hanger and helm, sir, you now belong + To a nobler and more distinguished throng. + Thus, a loftier spirit 'twere well to uphold— + + FIRST YAGER. + And, specially, never be sparing of gold. + + SERGEANT. + In Fortune's ship, with an onward gale, + My friend, you have made up your mind to sail. + The earth-ball is open before you—yet there + Naught's to be gained, but by those who dare. + Stupid and sluggish your citizen's found, + Like a dyer's dull jade, in his ceaseless round, + While the soldier can be whatever he will, + For war o'er the earth is the watchword still. + Just look now at me, and the coat I wear, + You see that the emperor's baton I bear— + And all good government, over the earth, + You must know from the baton alone has birth; + For the sceptre that's swayed by the kingly hand + Is naught but a baton, we understand. + And he who has corporal's rank obtained, + Stands on the ladder where all's to be gained, + And you, like another, may mount to that height— + + FIRST YAGER. + Provided you can but read and write. + + SERGEANT. + Now, hark to an instance of this from me, + And one, which I've lived myself to see + There's Butler, the chief of dragoons, why he, + Whose rank was not higher a whit than mine, + Some thirty years since, at Cologne on Rhine, + Is a major-general now—because + He put himself forward and gained applause; + Filling the world with his martial fame, + While slept my merits without a name. + And even the Friedlander's self—I've heard— + Our general and all-commanding lord, + Who now can do what he will at a word, + Had at first but a private squire's degree; + In the goddess of war yet trusting free, + He reared the greatness which now you see, + And, after the emperor, next is he. + Who knows what more he may mean or get? + (Slyly.) + For all-day's evening isn't come yet. + + FIRST YAGER. + He was little at first, though now so great— + For at Altorf, in student's gown he played + By your leave, the part of a roaring blade, + And rattled away at a queerish rate. + His fag he had well nigh killed by a blow, + And their Nur'mburg worships swore he should go + To jail for his pains—if he liked it or no. + 'Twas a new-built nest to be christened by him + Who first should be lodged. Well, what was his whim? + Why, he sent his dog forward to lead the way, + And they call the jail from the dog to this day. + That was the game a brave fellow should play, + And of all the great deeds of the general, none + E'er tickled my fancy, like this one. + + [During this speech, the second Yager has begun toying + with the girl who has been in waiting.] + + DRAGOON (stepping between them). + Comrade—give over this sport, I pray. + + SECOND YAGER. + Why, who the devil shall say me nay! + + DRAGOON. + I've only to tell you the girl's my own. + + FIRST YAGER. + Such a morsel as this, for himself alone!— + Dragoon, why say, art thou crazy grown? + + SECOND YAGER. + In the camp to be keeping a wench for one! + No! the light of a pretty girl's face must fall, + Like the beams of the sun, to gladden us all. + (Kisses her.) + DRAGOON (tears her away). + I tell you again, that it shan't be done. + + FIRST YAGER. + The pipers are coming, lads! now for fun! + + SECOND YAGER (to Dragoon). + I shan't be far off, should you look for me. + + SERGEANT. + Peace, my good fellows!—a kiss goes free. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VIII. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter Miners, and play a waltz—at first slowly, and + afterwards quicker. The first Yager dances with the girl, + the Sutler-woman with the recruit. The girl springs away, + and the Yager, pursuing her, seizes hold of a Capuchin + Friar just entering. + + CAPUCHIN. + Hurrah! halloo! tol, lol, de rol, le! + The fun's at its height! I'll not be away! + Is't an army of Christians that join in such works? + Or are we all turned Anabaptists and Turks? + Is the Sabbath a day for this sport in the land, + As though the great God had the gout in his hand, + And thus couldn't smite in the midst of your band? + Say, is this a time for your revelling shouts, + For your banquetings, feasts, and holiday bouts? + Quid hic statis otiosi? declare + Why, folding your arms, stand ye lazily there? + While the furies of war on the Danube now fare + And Bavaria's bulwark is lying full low, + And Ratisbon's fast in the clutch of the foe. + Yet, the army lies here in Bohemia still, + And caring for naught, so their paunches they fill! + Bottles far rather than battles you'll get, + And your bills than your broad-swords more readily wet; + With the wenches, I ween, is your dearest concern, + And you'd rather roast oxen than Oxenstiern. + In sackcloth and ashes while Christendom's grieving, + No thought has the soldier his guzzle of leaving. + 'Tis a time of misery, groans, and tears! + Portentous the face of the heavens appears! + And forth from the clouds behold blood-red, + The Lord's war-mantle is downward spread— + While the comet is thrust as a threatening rod, + From the window of heaven by the hand of God. + The world is but one vast house of woe, + The ark of the church stems a bloody flow, + The Holy Empire—God help the same! + Has wretchedly sunk to a hollow name. + The Rhine's gay stream has a gory gleam, + The cloister's nests are robbed by roysters; + The church-lands now are changed to lurch-lands; + Abbacies, and all other holy foundations + Now are but robber-sees—rogues' habitations. + And thus is each once-blest German state, + Deep sunk in the gloom of the desolate! + Whence comes all this? Oh, that will I tell— + It comes of your doings, of sin, and of hell; + Of the horrible, heathenish lives ye lead, + Soldiers and officers, all of a breed. + For sin is the magnet, on every hand, + That draws your steel throughout the land! + As the onion causes the tear to flow, + So vice must ever be followed by woe— + The W duly succeeds the V, + This is the order of A, B, C. + Ubi erit victoriae spes, + Si offenditur Deus? which says, + How, pray ye, shall victory e'er come to pass, + If thus you play truant from sermon and mass, + And do nothing but lazily loll o'er the glass? + The woman, we're told in the Testament, + Found the penny in search whereof she went. + Saul met with his father's asses again, + And Joseph his precious fraternal train, + But he, who 'mong soldiers shall hope to see + God's fear, or shame, or discipline—he + From his toil, beyond doubt, will baffled return, + Though a hundred lamps in the search he burn. + To the wilderness preacher, th' Evangelist says, + The soldiers, too, thronged to repent of their ways, + And had themselves christened in former days. + Quid faciemus nos? they said: + Toward Abraham's bosom what path must we tread? + Et ait illis, and, said he, + Neminem concutiatis; + From bother and wrongs leave your neighbors free. + Neque calumniam faciatis; + And deal nor in slander nor lies, d'ye see? + Contenti estote—content ye, pray, + Stipendiis vestris—with your pay— + And curse forever each evil way. + There is a command—thou shalt not utter + The name of the Lord thy God in vain; + But, where is it men most blasphemies mutter? + Why here, in Duke Friedland's headquarters, 'tie plain + If for every thunder, and every blast, + Which blazing ye from your tongue-points cast, + The bells were but rung, in the country round, + Not a bellman, I ween, would there soon be found; + And if for each and every unholy prayer + Which to vent from your jabbering jaws you dare, + From your noddles were plucked but the smallest hair, + Ev'ry crop would be smoothed ere the sun went down, + Though at morn 'twere as bushy as Absalom's crown. + Now, Joshua, methinks, was a soldier as well— + By the arm of King David the Philistine fell; + But where do we find it written, I pray, + That they ever blasphemed in this villanous way? + One would think ye need stretch your jaws no more, + To cry, "God help us!" than "Zounds!" to roar. + But, by the liquor that's poured in the cask, we know + With what it will bubble and overflow. + Again, it is written—thou shalt not steal, + And this you follow, i'faith! to the letter, + For open-faced robbery suits ye better. + The gripe of your vulture claws you fix + On all—and your wiles and rascally tricks + Make the gold unhid in our coffers now, + And the calf unsafe while yet in the cow— + Ye take both the egg and the hen, I vow. + Contenti estote—the preacher said; + Which means—be content with your army bread. + But how should the slaves not from duty swerve? + The mischief begins with the lord they serve, + Just like the members so is the head. + I should like to know who can tell me his creed. + + FIRST YAGER. + Sir priest, 'gainst ourselves rail on as you will— + Of the general we warn you to breathe no ill. + + CAPUCHIN. + Ne custodias gregem meam! + An Ahab is he, and a Jerobeam, + Who the people from faith's unerring way, + To the worship of idols would turn astray, + + TRUMPETER and RECRUIT. + Let us not hear that again, we pray. + + CAPUCHIN. + Such a Bramarbas, whose iron tooth + Would seize all the strongholds of earth forsooth! + Did he not boast, with ungodly tongue, + That Stralsund must needs to his grasp be wrung, + Though to heaven itself with a chain 'twere strung? + + TRUMPETER. + Will none put a stop to his slanderous bawl? + + CAPUCHIN. + A wizard he is!—and a sorcerer Saul!— + Holofernes!—a Jehu!—denying, we know, + Like St. Peter, his Master and Lord below; + And hence must he quail when the cock doth crow— + + BOTH YAGERS. + Now, parson, prepare; for thy doom is nigh. + + CAPUCHIN. + A fox more cunning than Herod, I trow— + + TRUMPETER and both YAGERS (pressing against him). + Silence, again,—if thou wouldst not die! + + CROATS (interfering.) + Stick to it, father; we'll shield you, ne'er fear; + The close of your preachment now let's hear. + + CAPUCHIN (still louder). + A Nebuchadnezzar in towering pride! + And a vile and heretic sinner beside! + He calls himself rightly the stone of a wall; + For faith! he's a stumbling-stone to us all. + And ne'er can the emperor have peace indeed, + Till of Friedland himself the land is freed. + + [During the last passages which he pronounces in an elevated + voice, he has been gradually retreating, the Croats keeping + the other soldiers off. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IX. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The above, without the Capuchin. + + FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant). + + But, tell us, what meant he about chanticleer; + Whose crowing the general dares to hear? + No doubt it was uttered in spite and scorn. + + SERGEANT. + Listen—'Tis not so untrue as it appears; + For Friedland was rather mysteriously born, + And is 'specially troubled with ticklish ears; + He can never suffer the mew of a cat; + And when the cock crows he starts thereat. + + FIRST YAGER. + He's one and the same with the lion in that. + + SERGEANT. + Mouse-still must all around him creep, + Strict watch in this the sentinels keep, + For he ponders on matters most grave and deep. + [Voices in the tent. A tumult. + Seize the rascal! Lay on! lay on! + + PEASANT'S VOICE. + Help!—mercy—help! + + OTHERS. + Peace! peace! begone! + + FIRST YAGER. + Deuce take me, but yonder the swords are out! + + SECOND YAGER. + Then I must be off, and see what 'tis about. + + [Yagers enter the tent. + + SUTLER-WOMAN (comes forward). + A scandalous villain!—a scurvy thief! + + TRUMPETER. + Good hostess, the cause of this clamorous grief? + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + A cut-purse! a scoundrel! the-villain I call. + That the like in my tent should ever befall! + I'm disgraced and undone with the officers all. + + SERGEANT. + Well, coz, what is it? + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + Why, what should it be? + But a peasant they've taken just now with me— + A rogue with false dice, to favor his play. + + TRUMPETER. + See I they're bringing the boor and his son this way. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE X. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Soldiers dragging in the peasant, bound. + + FIRST YAGER. + He must hang! + + SHARPSHOOTERS and DRAGOONS. + To the provost, come on! + + SERGEANT. + 'Tis the latest order that forth has gone. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + In an hour I hope to behold him swinging! + + SERGEANT. + Bad work bad wages will needs be bringing. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (to the others). + This comes of their desperation. We + First ruin them out and out, d'ye see; + Which tempts them to steal, as it seems to me. + + TRUMPETER. + How now! the rascal's cause would you plead? + The cur! the devil is in you indeed! + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + The boor is a man—as a body may say. + + FIRST YAGER (to the Trumpeter). + Let 'em go! they're of Tiefenbach's corps, the railers, + A glorious train of glovers and tailors! + At Brieg, in garrison, long they lay; + What should they know about camps, I pray? +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE XI. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The above.—Cuirassiers. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Peace! what's amiss with the boor, may I crave? + + FIRST SHARPSHOOTER. + He has cheated at play, the cozening knave! + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + But say, has he cheated you, man, of aught? + + FIRST SHARPHOOTER. + Just cleaned me out—and not left me a groat. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + And can you, who've the rank of a Friedland man, + So shamefully cast yourself away, + As to try your luck with the boor at play? + Let him run off, so that run he can. + + [The peasant escapes, the others throng together. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + He makes short work—is of resolute mood— + And that with such fellows as these is good. + Who is he? not of Bohemia, that's clear. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + He's a Walloon—and respect, I trow, + Is due to the Pappenheim cuirassier! + + FIRST DRAGOON (joining). + Young Piccolomini leads them now, + Whom they chose as colonel, of their own free might, + When Pappenheim fell in Luetzen's fight. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + Durst they, indeed, presume so far? + + FIRST DRAGOON. + This regiment is something above the rest. + It has ever been foremost through the war, + And may manage its laws, as it pleases best; + Besides, 'tis by Friedland himself caressed. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER (to the Second.) + Is't so in truth, man? Who averred it? + + SECOND CUIRASSIER. + From the lips of the colonel himself I heard it. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + The devil! we're not their dogs, I weep! + + FIRST YAGER. + How now, what's wrong? You're swollen with spleen! + + SECOND YAGER. + Is it anything, comrades, may us concern? + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + 'Tis what none need be wondrous glad to learn. + + The Soldiers press round him. + + To the Netherlands they would lend us now— + Cuirassiers, Yagers, and Shooters away, + Eight thousand in all must march, they say. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + What! What! again the old wandering way— + I got back from Flanders but yesterday! + + SECOND CUIRASSIER (to the Dragoons). + You of Butler's corps must tramp with the rest. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + And we, the Walloons, must doubtless be gone. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + Why, of all our squadrons these are the best. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + To march where that Milanese fellow leads on. + + FIRST YAGER. + The infant? that's queer enough in its way. + + SECOND YAGER. + The priest—then, egad! there's the devil to pay. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Shall we then leave the Friedlander's train, + Who so nobly his soldiers doth entertain— + And drag to the field with this fellow from Spain! + A niggard whom we in our souls disdain! + That'll never go down—I'm off, I swear. + + TRUMPETER. + Why, what the devil should we do there? + We sold our blood to the emperor—ne'er + For this Spanish red hat a drop we'll spare! + + SECOND YAGER. + On the Friedlander's word and credit alone + We ranged ourselves in the trooper line, + And, but for our love to Wallenstein, + Ferdinand ne'er had our service known. + + FIRST DRAGOON. + Was it not Friedland that formed our force? + His fortune shall still be the star of our course. + + SERGEANT. + Silence, good comrades, to me give ear— + Talking does little to help us here. + Much farther in this I can see than you all, + And a trap has been laid in which we're to fall; + + FIRST YAGER. + List to the order-book! hush—be still! + + SERGEANT. + But first, Cousin Gustel, I pray thee fill + A glass of Melneck, as my stomach's but weak + When I've tossed it off, my mind I'll speak. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + Take it, good sergeant. I quake for fear— + Think you that mischief is hidden here? + + SERGEANT. + Look ye, my friends, 'tis fit and clear + That each should consider what's most near. + But as the general says, say I, + One should always the whole of a case descry. + We call ourselves all the Friedlander's troops; + The burgher, on whom we're billeted, stoops + Our wants to supply, and cooks our soups. + His ox, or his horse, the peasant must chain + To our baggage-car, and may grumble in vain. + Just let a lance-corp'ral, with seven good men, + Tow'rd a village from far but come within ken, + You're sure he'll be prince of the place, and may + Cut what capers he will, with unquestioned sway. + Why, zounds! lads, they heartily hate us all— + And would rather the devil should give them a call, + Than our yellow collars. And why don't they fall + On us fairly at once and get rid of our lumber? + They're more than our match in point of number, + And carry the cudgel as we do the sword. + Why can we laugh them to scorn? By my word + Because we make up here a terrible horde. + + FIRST YAGER. + Ay, ay, in the mass lies the spell of our might, + And the Friedlander judged the matter aright, + When, some eight or nine years ago, he brought + The emperor's army together. They thought + Twelve thousand enough for the general. In vain, + Said he, such a force I can never maintain. + Sixty thousand I'll bring ye into the plain, + And they, I'll be sworn, won't of hunger die, + And thus were we Wallenstein's men, say I. + + SERGEANT. + For example, cut one of my fingers off, + This little one here from my right hand doff. + Is the taking my finger then all you've done? + No, no, to the devil my hand is gone! + 'Tis a stump—no more—and use has none. + The eight thousand horse they wish to disband + May be but a finger of our army's hand. + But when they're once gone may we understand + We are but one-fifth the less? Oh, no— + By the Lord, the whole to the devil will go! + All terror, respect, and awe will be over, + And the peasant will swell his crest once more; + And the Board of Vienna will order us where + Our troops must be quartered and how we must fare, + As of old in the days of their beggarly care. + Yes, and how long it will be who can say + Ere the general himself they may take away? + For they don't much like him at court I learn? + And then it's all up with the whole concern! + For who, to our pay, will be left to aid us? + And see that they keep the promise they made us? + Who has the energy—who the mind— + The flashing thought—and the fearless hand— + Together to bring, and thus fastly bind + The fragments that form our close-knit band. + For example, dragoon—just answer us now, + From which of the countries of earth art thou? + + DRAGOON. + From distant Erin came I here. + + SERGEANT (to the two Cuirassiers). + You're a Walloon, my friend, that's clear, + And you, an Italian, as all may hear. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Who I may be, faith! I never could say; + In my infant years they stole me away. + + SERGEANT. + And you, from what far land may you be? + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + I come from Buchau—on the Feder Sea. + + SERGEANT. + Neighbor, and you? + + SECOND ARQUEBUSIER. + I am a Swiss. + + SERGEANT (to the second Yager). + And Yager, let's hear where your country is? + + SECOND YAGER. + Up above Wismar my fathers dwell. + + SERGEANT (pointing to the Trumpeter). + And he's from Eger—and I as well: + And now, my comrades, I ask you whether, + Would any one think, when looking at us, + That we, from the North and South, had thus + Been hitherward drifted and blown together? + Do we not seem as hewn from one mass? + Stand we not close against the foe + As though we were glued or moulded so? + Like mill-work don't we move, d'ye think! + 'Mong ourselves in the nick, at a word or wink. + Who has thus cast us here all as one, + Now to be severed again by none? + Who? why, no other than Wallenstein! + + FIRST YAGER. + In my life it ne'er was a thought of mine + Whether we suited each other or not, + I let myself go with the rest of the lot. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + I quite agree in the sergeant's opinion— + They'd fain have an end of our camp dominion, + And trample the soldier down, that they + May govern alone in their own good way. + 'Tis a conspiration—a plot, I say! + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + A conspiration—God help the day! + Then my customers won't have cash to pay. + + SERGEANT. + Why, faith, we shall all be bankrupts made; + The captains and generals, most of them, paid + The costs of the regiments with private cash, + And, wishing, 'bove all, to cut a dash, + Went a little beyond their means—but thought, + No doubt, that they thus had a bargain bought. + Now they'll be cheated, sirs, one and all, + Should our chief, our head, the general fall. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + Oh, Heaven! this curse I never can brook + Why, half of the army stand in my book. + Two hundred dollars I've trusted madly + That Count Isolani who pays so badly. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Well, comrades, let's fix on what's to be done— + Of the ways to save us, I see but one; + If we hold together we need not fear; + So let us stand out as one man here; + And then they may order and send as they will, + Fast planted we'll stick in Bohemia still. + We'll never give in—no, nor march an inch, + We stand on our honor, and must not flinch. + + SECOND YAGER. + We're not to be driven the country about, + Let 'em come here, and they'll find it out. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + Good sirs, 'twere well to bethink ye still, + That such is the emperor's sovereign will. + + TRUMPETER. + Oh, as to the emperor, we needn't be nice. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + Let me not hear you say so twice. + + TRUMPETER. + Why, 'tis even so—as I just have said. + + FIRST YAGER. + True, man—I've always heard 'em say, + 'Tis Friedland, alone, you've here to obey. + + SERGEANT. + By our bargain with him it should be so, + Absolute power is his, you must know, + We've war, or peace, but as he may please, + Or gold or goods he has power to seize, + And hanging or pardon his will decrees. + Captains and colonels he makes—and he, + In short, by the imperial seal is free, + To hold all the marks of sovereignty. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + The duke is high and of mighty will, + But yet must remain, for good or for ill, + Like us all, but the emperor's servant still. + + SERGEANT. + Not like us all—I there disagree— + Friedland is quite independent and free, + The Bavarian is no more a prince than he + For, was I not by myself to see, + When on duty at Brandeis, how the emperor said, + He wished him to cover his princely head. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + That was because of the Mecklenburgh land, + Which he held in pawn from the emperor's hand. + + FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant). + In the emperor's presence, man! say you so? + That, beyond doubt, was a wonderful go! + + SERGEANT (feels in his pocket). + If you question my word in what I have told, + I can give you something to grasp and hold. + [Showing a coin. + Whose image and stamp d'ye here behold? + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + Oh! that is a Wallenstein's, sure! + + SERGEANT-MAJOR. + Well, there, you have it—what doubt can rest + Is he not prince, just as good as the best? + Coins he not money like Ferdinand? + Hath he not his own subjects and land? + Is he not called your highness, I pray? + And why should he not have his soldiers in? + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + That no one has ever meant to gainsay; + But we're still at the emperor's beck and call, + For his majesty 'tis who pays us all. + + TRUMPETER. + In your teeth I deny it—and will again— + His majesty 'tis who pays us not, + For this forty weeks, say, what have we got + But a promise to pay, believed in vain? + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + What then! 'tis kept in safe hands, I suppose. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Peace, good sirs, will you come to blows? + Have you a quarrel and squabble to know + If the emperor be our master or no? + 'Tis because of our rank, as his soldiers brave, + That we scorn the lot of the herded slave; + And will not be driven from place to place, + As priest or puppies our path may trace. + And, tell me, is't not the sovereign's gain, + If the soldiers their dignity will maintain? + Who but his soldiers give him the state + Of a mighty, wide-ruling potentate? + Make and preserve for him, far and near, + The voice which Christendom quakes to hear? + Well enough they may his yoke-chain bear, + Who feast on his favors, and daily share, + In golden chambers, his sumptuous fare. + We—we of his splendors have no part, + Naught but hard wearying toil and care, + And the pride that lives in a soldier's heart. + + SECOND YAGER. + All great tyrants and kings have shown + Their wit, as I take it, in what they've done; + They've trampled all others with stern command, + But the soldier they've led with a gentle hand. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + The soldier his worth must understand; + Whoe'er doesn't nobly drive the trade, + 'Twere best from the business far he'd stayed. + If I cheerily set my life on a throw, + Something still better than life I'll know; + Or I'll stand to be slain for the paltry pelf, + As the Croat still does—and scorn myself. + + BOTH PAGERS. + Yes—honor is dearer than life itself. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + The sword is no plough, nor delving tool, + He, who would till with it, is but a fool. + For us, neither grass nor grain doth grow, + Houseless the soldier is doomed to go, + A changeful wanderer over the earth, + Ne'er knowing the warmth of a home-lit hearth. + The city glances—he halts—not there— + Nor in village meadows, so green and fair; + The vintage and harvest wreath are twined + He sees, but must leave them far behind. + Then, tell me, what hath the soldier left, + If he's once of his self-esteem bereft? + Something he must have his own to call, + Or on slaughter and burnings at once he'll fall. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + God knows, 'tis a wretched life to live! + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Yet one, which I, for no other would give, + Look ye—far round in the world I've been, + And all of its different service seen. + The Venetian Republic—the Kings of Spain + And Naples I've served, and served in vain. + Fortune still frowned—and merchant and knight, + Craftsmen and Jesuit, have met my sight; + Yet, of all their jackets, not one have I known + To please me like this steel coat of my own. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + Well—that now is what I can scarcely say. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + In the world, a man who would make his way, + Must plague and bestir himself night and day. + To honor and place if he choose the road, + He must bend his back to the golden load. + And if home-delights should his fancy please, + With children and grandchildren round his knees, + Let him follow an honest trade in peace. + I've no taste for this kind of life—not I! + Free will I live, and as freely die. + No man's spoiler nor heir will I be— + But, throned on my nag, I will smile to see + The coil of the crowd that is under me. + + FIRST YAGER. + Bravo!—that's as I've always done. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + In truth, sirs, it may be far better fun + To trample thus over your neighbor's crown. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Comrade, the times are bad of late— + The sword and the scales live separate. + But do not then blame that I've preferred, + Of the two, to lean, as I have, to the sword. + For mercy in war I will yield to none, + Though I never will stoop to be drummed upon. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. + Who but the soldier the blame should bear + That the laboring poor so hardly fare? + The war with its plagues, which all have blasted + Now sixteen years in the land hath lasted. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Why, brother, the blessed God above + Can't have from us all an equal love. + One prays for the sun, at which t'other will fret + One is for dry weather-t'other for wet. + What you, now, regard as with misery rife, + Is to me the unclouded sun of life. + If 'tis at the cost of the burgher and boor, + I really am sorry that they must endure; + But how can I help it? Here, you must know, + 'Tis just like a cavalry charge 'gainst the foe: + The steeds loud snorting, and on they go! + Whoever may lie in the mid-career— + Be it my brother or son so dear, + Should his dying groan my heart divide, + Yet over his body I needs must ride, + Nor pitying stop to drag him aside. + + FIRST YAGER. + True—who ever asks how another may bide? + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Thus, my lads, 'tis my counsel, while + On the soldier Dame Fortune deigns to smile, + That we with both hands her bounty clasp, + For it may not be much longer left to our grasp. + Peace will be coming some over-night, + And then there's an end of our martial might. + The soldier unhorsed, and fresh mounted to boor, + Ere you can think it 'twill be as before. + As yet we're together firm bound in the land, + The hilt is yet fast in the soldier's hand. + But let 'em divide us, and soon we shall find, + Short commons is all that remains behind. + + FIRST YAGER. + No, no, by the Lord! That won't do for me. + Come, come, lads, let's all now, as one, agree. + + SECOND YAGER. + Yes, let us resolve on what 'tis to be. + + FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (To the Sutler-woman, drawing out his leather purse). + Hostess, tell us how high you've scored. + + SUTLER-WOMAN. + Oh, 'tis unworthy a single word. + + [They settle. + + TRUMPETER. + You do well, sirs, to take a further walk, + Your company only disturbs our talk. + + [Exeunt Arquebusiers. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Plague take the fellows—they're brave, I know. + + FIRST YAGER. + They haven't a soul 'bove a soapboiler's, though. + + SECOND YAGER. + We're now alone, so teach us who can + How best we may meet and mar their plan. + + TRUMPETER. + How? Why, let's tell them we will not go! + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Despising all discipline! No, my lads, no, + Rather his corps let each of us seek, + And quietly then with his comrades speak, + That every soldier may clearly know, + It were not for his good so far to go; + For my Walloons to answer I'm free, + Every man of 'em thinks and acts with me. + + SERGEANT. + The Terzky regiments, both horse and foot, + Will thus resolve, and will keep them to't. + + SECOND CUIRASSIER (joining the first). + The Walloons and the Lombards one intent. + + FIRST YAGER. + Freedom is Yagers' own element. + + SECOND YAGER. + Freedom must ever with might entwine— + I live and will die by Wallenstein. + + FIRST SHARPSHOOTER. + The Lorrainers go on with the strongest tide, + Where spirits are light and courage tried. + + DRAGOON. + An Irishman follows his fortune's star. + + SECOND SHARPSHOOTER. + The Tyrolese for their sovereign war. + + FIRST CUIRASSIER. + Then, comrades, let each of our corps agree + A pro memoria to sign—that we, + In spite of all force or fraud, will be + To the fortunes of Friedland firmly bound, + For in him is the soldier's father found. + This we will humbly present, when done, + To Piccolomini—I mean the son— + Who understands these kind of affairs, + And the Friedlander's highest favor shares; + Besides, with the emperor's self, they say + He holds a capital card to play. + + SECOND YAGER. + Well, then, in this, let us all agree, + That the colonel shall our spokesman be! + + ALL (going). + Good! the colonel shall our spokesman be. + + SERGEANT. + Hold, sirs—just toss off a glass with me + To the health of Piccolomini. + + SUTLER-WOMAN (brings a flask). + This shall not go to the list of scores, + I gladly give it—success be yours! + + CUIRASSIER. + The soldier shall sway! + + BOTH YAGERS. + The peasant shall pay + + DRAGOONS and SHARPSHOOTERS. + The army shall flourishing stand! + + TRUMPETER and SERGEANT. + And the Friedlander keep the command! + + SECOND CUIRASSIER (sings). + + Arouse ye, my comrades, to horse! to horse! + To the field and to freedom we guide! + For there a man feels the pride of his force + And there is the heart of him tried. + No help to him there by another is shown, + He stands for himself and himself alone. + + [The soldiers from the background have come forward during the singing + of this verse and form the chorus. + + CHORUS. + + No help to him by another is shown, + He stands for himself and himself alone. + + DRAGOON. + + Now freedom hath fled from the world, we find + But lords and their bondsmen vile + And nothing holds sway in the breast of mankind + Save falsehood and cowardly guile. + Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow, + The soldier, alone, is the freeman now. + + CHORUS. + + Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow, + The soldier, alone, is the freeman now. + + FIRST YAGER. + + With the troubles of life he ne'er bothers his pate, + And feels neither fear nor sorrow; + But boldly rides onward to meet with his fate— + He may meet it to-day, or to-morrow! + And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say, + Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day! + + CHORUS. + + And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say, + Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day! + + [The glasses are here refilled, and all drink. + + SERGEANT. + + 'Tis from heaven his jovial lot has birth; + Nor needs he to strive or toil. + The peasant may grope in the bowels of earth, + And for treasure may greedily moil + He digs and he delves through life for the pelf, + And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself. + + CHORUS. + + He digs and he delves through life for the pelf, + And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself. + + FIRST YAGER. + + The rider and lightning steed—a pair + Of terrible guests, I ween! + From the bridal-hall, as the torches glare, + Unbidden they join the +SCENE; + Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove; + By storm he carries the prize of love! + + CHORUS. + + Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove; + By storm he carries the prize of love! + + SECOND CUIRASSIER. + + Why mourns the wench with so sorrowful face? + Away, girl, the soldier must go! + No spot on the earth is his resting-place; + And your true love he never can know. + Still onward driven by fate's rude wind, + He nowhere may leave his peace behind. + + CHORUS. + + Still onward driven by fate's rude wind, + He nowhere may leave his peace behind. + + FIRST YAGER. + He takes the two next to him by the hand—the others do the same—and + form a large semi-circle. + + Then rouse ye, my comrades—to horse! to horse! + In battle the breast doth swell! + Youth boils—the life-cup foams in its force— + Up! ere time can dew dispel! + And deep be the stake, as the prize is high— + Who life would win, he must dare to die! + + CHORUS. + + And deep be the stake, as the prize is high— + Who life would win, he must dare to die! + + [The curtain falls before the chorus has finished. +</pre> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Camp of Wallenstein, by Friedrich Schiller + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN *** + +***** This file should be named 6785-h.htm or 6785-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/6/7/8/6785/ + +Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Camp of Wallenstein + A Play + +Author: Frederich Schiller + +Release Date: October 26, 2006 [EBook #6785] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN *** + + + + +Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger + + + + + + THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN + + By Frederich Schiller + + Translated by James Churchill. + + +The Camp of Wallenstein is an introduction to the celebrated tragedy of +that name; and, by its vivid portraiture of the state of the general's +army, gives the best clue to the spell of his gigantic power. The blind +belief entertained in the unfailing success of his arms, and in the +supernatural agencies by which that success is secured to him; the +unrestrained indulgence of every passion, and utter disregard of all law, +save that of the camp; a hard oppression of the peasantry and plunder of +the country, have all swollen the soldiery with an idea of interminable +sway. But as we have translated the whole, we shall leave these reckless +marauders to speak for themselves. + +Of Schiller's opinion concerning the Camp, as a necessary introduction to +the tragedy, the following passage taken from the prologue to the first +representation, will give a just idea, and may also serve as a motto to +the work:-- + + "Not he it is, who on the tragic scene + Will now appear--but in the fearless bands + Whom his command alone could sway, and whom + His spirit fired, you may his shadow see, + Until the bashful Muse shall dare to bring + Himself before you in a living form; + For power it was that bore his heart astray + His Camp, alone, elucidates his crime." + + + +THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN. + + + + DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + + Sergeant-Major | of a regiment of Recruit. + Trumpeter | Terzky's carabineers. Citizen. + Artilleryman, Peasant. + Sharpshooters. Peasant Boy. + Mounted Yagers, of Holk's corps. Capuchin. + Dragoons, of Butler's regiment. Regimental Schoolmaster. + Arquebusiers, of Tiefenbach's regiment. Sutler-Woman. + Cuirassier, of a Walloon regiment. Servant Girl. + Cuirassier, of a Lombard regiment. Soldiers' Boys. + Croats. Musicians. + Hulans. + + (SCENE.--The Camp before Pilsen, in Bohemia.) + + + + SCENE I. + + Sutlers' tents--in front, a Slop-shop. Soldiers of all colors and + uniforms thronging about. Tables all filled. Croats and Hulans + cooking at a fire. Sutler-woman serving out wine. Soldier-boys + throwing dice on a drum-head. Singing heard from the tent. + + Enter a Peasant and his Son. + +SON. +Father, I fear it will come to harm, +So let us be off from this soldier swarm; +But boist'rous mates will ye find in the shoal-- +'Twere better to bolt while our skins are whole. + +FATHER. +How now, boy! the fellows wont eat us, though +They may be a little unruly, or so. +See, yonder, arriving a stranger train, +Fresh comers are they from the Saal and Mayne; +Much booty they bring of the rarest sort-- +'Tis ours, if we cleverly drive our sport. +A captain, who fell by his comrade's sword, +This pair of sure dice to me transferred; +To-day I'll just give them a trial to see +If their knack's as good as it used to be. +You must play the part of a pitiful devil, +For these roaring rogues, who so loosely revel, +Are easily smoothed, and tricked, and flattered, +And, free as it came, their gold is scattered. +But we--since by bushels our all is taken, +By spoonfuls must ladle it back again; +And, if with their swords they slash so highly, +We must look sharp, boy, and do them slyly. + + [Singing and shouting in the tent. + +Hark, how they shout! God help the day! +'Tis the peasant's hide for their sport must pay. +Eight months in our beds and stalls have they +Been swarming here, until far around +Not a bird or a beast is longer found, +And the peasant, to quiet his craving maw, +Has nothing now left but his bones to gnaw. +Ne'er were we crushed with a heavier hand, +When the Saxon was lording it o'er the land: +And these are the Emperor's troops, they say! + +SON. +From the kitchen a couple are coming this way, +Not much shall we make by such blades as they. + +FATHER. +They're born Bohemian knaves--the two-- +Belonging to Terzky's carabineers, +Who've lain in these quarters now for years; +The worst are they of the worthless crew. +Strutting, swaggering, proud and vain, +They seem to think they may well disdain +With the peasant a glass of his wine to drain +But, soft--to the left o' the fire I see +Three riflemen, who from the Tyrol should be +Emmerick, come, boy, to them will we. +Birds of this feather 'tis luck to find, +Whose trim's so spruce, and their purse well lined. + + [They move towards the tent. + + + + SCENE II. + + The above--Sergeant-Major, Trumpeter, Hulan. + +TRUMPETER. +What would the boor? Out, rascal, away! + +PEASANT. +Some victuals and drink, worthy masters, I pray, +For not a warm morsel we've tasted to day. + +TRUMPETER. +Ay, guzzle and guttle--'tis always the way. + +HULAN (with a glass). +Not broken your fast! there--drink, ye hound! + + He leads the peasant to the tent--the others come forward. + +SERGEANT (to the Trumpeter). +Think ye they've done it without good ground? +Is it likely they double our pay to-day, +Merely that we may be jolly and gay? + +TRUMPETER. +Why, the duchess arrives to-day, we know, +And her daughter too-- + +SERGEANT. + Tush! that's mere show-- +'Tis the troops collected from other lands +Who here at Pilsen have joined our bands-- +We must do the best we can t' allure 'em, +With plentiful rations, and thus secure 'em. +Where such abundant fare they find, +A closer league with us to bind. + +TRUMPETER. +Yes!--there's something in the wind. + +SERGEANT. +The generals and commanders too-- + +TRUMPETER. +A rather ominous sight, 'tis true. + +SERGEANT. +Who're met together so thickly here-- + +TRUMPETER. +Have plenty of work on their hands, that's clear. + +SERGEANT. +The whispering and sending to and fro-- + +TRUMPETER. +Ay! Ay! + +SERGEANT. +The big-wig from Vienna, I trow, +Who since yesterday's seen to prowl about +In his golden chain of office there-- +Something's at the bottom of this, I'll swear. + +TRUMPETER. +A bloodhound is he beyond a doubt, +By whom the duke's to be hunted out. + +SERGEANT. +Mark ye well, man!--they doubt us now, +And they fear the duke's mysterious brow; +He hath clomb too high for them, and fain +Would they beat him down from his perch again. + +TRUMPETER. +But we will hold him still on high-- +That all would think as you and I! + +SERGEANT. +Our regiment, and the other four +Which Terzky leads--the bravest corps +Throughout the camp, are the General's own, +And have been trained to the trade by himself alone +The officers hold their command of him, +And are all his own, or for life or limb. + + + + SCENE III. + + Enter Croat with a necklace. Sharpshooter following him. + The above. + +SHARPSHOOTER. +Croat, where stole you that necklace, say? +Get rid of it man--for thee 'tis unmeet: +Come, take these pistols in change, I pray. + +CROAT. +Nay, nay, Master Shooter, you're trying to cheat. + +SHARPSHOOTER. +Then I'll give you this fine blue cap as well, +A lottery prize which just I've won: +Look at the cut of it--quite the swell! + +CROAT (twirling the Necklace in the Sun). +But this is of pearls and of garnets bright, +See, how it plays in the sunny light! + +SHARPSHOOTER (taking the Necklace). +Well, I'll give you to boot, my own canteen-- +I'm in love with this bauble's beautiful sheen. + [Looks at it. + +TRUMPETER. +See, now!--how cleanly the Croat is done +Snacks! Master Shooter, and mum's the word. + +CROAT (having put on the cap). +I think your cap is a smartish one. + +SHARPSHOOTER (winking to the Trumpeter). +'Tis a regular swop, as these gents have heard. + + + + SCENE IV. + + The above. An Artilleryman. + +ARTILLERYMAN (to the Sergeant). +How is this I pray, brother carabineer? +Shall we longer stay here, our fingers warming, +While the foe in the field around is swarming? + +SERGEANT. +Art thou, indeed, in such hasty fret? +Why the roads, as I think, are scarce passable yet. + +ARTILLERYMAN. +For me they are not--I'm snug enough here-- +But a courier's come, our wits to waken +With the precious news that Ratisbon's taken. + +TRUMPETER. +Ha! then we soon shall have work in hand. + +SERGEANT. +Indeed! to protect the Bavarian's land, +Who hates the duke, as we understand, +We won't put ourselves in a violent sweat. + +ARTILLERYMAN. +Heyday!--you'll find you're a wiseacre yet. + + + + SCENE V. + + The above--Two Yagers. Afterwards Sutler-woman, + Soldier-boy, Schoolmaster, Servant-girl. + +FIRST YAGER. + See! see! +Here meet we a jovial company! + +TRUMPETER. +Who can these greencoats be, I wonder, +That strut so gay and sprucely yonder! + +SERGEANT. +They're the Yagers of Holk--and the lace they wear, +I'll be sworn, was ne'er purchased at Leipzig fair. + +SUTLER-WOMAN (bringing wine). +Welcome, good sirs! + +FIRST YAGER. + Zounds, how now? +Gustel of Blasewitz here, I vow! + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +The same in sooth--and you I know, +Are the lanky Peter of Itzeho: +Who at Glueckstadt once, in revelling night, +With the wags of our regiment, put to flight +All his father's shiners--then crowned the fun-- + +FIRST YAGER. +By changing his pen for a rifle-gun. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +We're old acquaintance, then, 'tis clear. + +FIRST YAGER. +And to think we should meet in Bohemia here! + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Oh, here to-day--to-morrow yonder-- +As the rude war-broom, in restless trace, +Scatters and sweeps us from place to place. +Meanwhile I've been doomed far round to wander. + +FIRST YAGER. +So one would think, by the look of your face. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Up the country I've rambled to Temsewar, +Whither I went with the baggage-car, +When Mansfeld before us we chased away; +With the duke near Stralsund next we lay, +Where trade went all to pot, I may say. +I jogged with the succors to Mantua; +And back again came, under Feria: +Then, joining a Spanish regiment, +I took a short cut across to Ghent; +And now to Bohemia I'm come to get +Old scores paid off, that are standing yet, +If a helping hand by the duke be lent-- +And yonder you see my sutler's tent. + +FIRST YAGER. +Well, all things seem in a flourishing way, +But what have you done with the Scotchman, say, +Who once in the camp was your constant flame? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +A villain, who tricked me clean, that same +He bolted, and took to himself whate'er +I'd managed to scrape together, or spare, +Leaving me naught but the urchin there. + +SOLDIER-BOY (springing forward). +Mother, is it my papa you name? + +FIRST YAGER. +Well, the emperor now must father this elf, +For the army must ever recruit itself. + +SCHOOLMASTER. +Forth to the school, ye rogue--d'ye hear? + +FIRST YAGER. +He, too, of a narrow room has fear. + +SERVANT GIRL (entering). +Aunt, they'll be off. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. + I come apace. + +FIRST YAGER. +What gypsy is that with the roguish face? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +My sister's child from the south, is she. + +FIRST YAGER. +Ay, ay, a sweet little niece--I see. + +SECOND YAGER (holding the girl). +Softly, my pretty one! stay with me. + +GIRL. +The customers wait, sir, and I must go. + [Disengages herself, and exit. + +FIRST YAGER. +That maiden's a dainty morsel, I trow! +And her aunt--by heaven! I mind me well,-- +When the best of the regiment loved her so, +To blows for her beautiful face they fell. +What different folks one's doomed to know! +How time glows off with a ceaseless flow! +And what sights as yet we may live to see! + (To the Sergeant and Trumpeter.) +Your health, good sirs, may we be free, +A seat beside you here to take? + + + + SCENE VI. + + The Yagers, Sergeant, and Trumpeter. + +SERGEANT. +We thank ye--and room will gladly make. +To Bohemia welcome. + +FIRST YAGER. + Snug enough here! +In the land of the foe our quarters were queer. + +TRUMPETER. +You haven't the look on't--you're spruce to view. + +SERGEANT. +Ay, faith, on the Saal, and in Meissen, too, +Your praises are heard from the lips of few. + +SECOND YAGER. +Tush, man! why, what the plague d'ye mean? +The Croat had swept the fields so clean, +There was little or nothing for us to glean. + +TRUMPETER. +Yet your pointed collar is clean and sightly, +And, then, your hose that sit so tightly! +Your linen so fine, with the hat and feather, +Make a show of smartness altogether! + (To Sergeant.) +That fortune should upon younkers shine-- +While nothing in your way comes, or mine. + +SERGEANT. +But then we're the Friedlander's regiment +And, thus, may honor and homage claim. + +FIRST YAGER. +For us, now, that's no great compliment, +We, also, bear the Friedlander's name. + +SERGEANT. +True--you form part of the general mass. + +FIRST YAGER. +And you, I suppose, are a separate class! +The difference lies in the coats we wear, +And I have no wish to change with you there. + +SERGEANT. +Sir Yager, I can't but with pity melt, +When I think how much among boors you've dwelt. +The clever knack and the proper tone, +Are caught by the general's side alone. + +FIRST YAGER. +Then the lesson is wofully thrown away,-- +How he hawks and spits, indeed, I may say +You've copied and caught in the cleverest way; +But his spirit, his genius--oh, these I ween, +On your guard parade are but seldom seen. + +SECOND YAGER. +Why, zounds! ask for us wherever you will, +Friedland's wild hunt is our title still! +Never shaming the name, all undaunted we go +Alike through the field of a friend, or a foe; +Through the rising stalk, or the yellow corn, +Well know they the blast of Holk's Yager horn. +In the flash of an eye, we are far or near, +Swift as the deluge, or there or here-- +As at midnight dark, when the flames outbreak +In the silent dwelling where none awake; +Vain is the hope in weapons or flight, +Nor order nor discipline thwart its might. +Then struggles the maid in our sinewy arms, +But war hath no pity, and scorns alarms. +Go, ask--I speak not with boastful tongue-- +In Bareuth, Westphalia, Voigtland, where'er +Our troops have traversed--go, ask them there-- +Children and children's children long, +When hundreds and hundreds of years are o'er, +Of Holk will tell and his Yager corps. + +SERGEANT. +Why, hark! Must a soldier then be made +By driving this riotous, roaring trade! +'Tis drilling that makes him, skill and sense-- +Perception--thought--intelligence. + +FIRST YAGER. +'Tis liberty makes him! Here's a fuss! +That I should such twaddle as this discuss. +Was it for this that I left the school? +That the scribbling desk, and the slavish rule, +And the narrow walls, that our spirits cramp, +Should be met with again in the midst of the camp? +No! Idle and heedless, I'll take my way, +Hunting for novelty every day; +Trust to the moment with dauntless mind, +And give not a glance or before or behind. +For this to the emperor I sold my hide, +That no other care I might have to bide. +Through the foe's fierce firing bid me ride, +Through fathomless Rhine, in his roaring flow, +Where ev'ry third man to the devil may go, +At no bar will you find me boggling there; +But, farther than this, 'tis my special prayer, +That I may not be bothered with aught like care. + +SERGEANT. +If this be your wish, you needn't lack it, +'Tis granted to all with the soldier's jacket. + +FIRST YAGER. +What a fuss and a bother, forsooth, was made +By that man-tormentor, Gustavus, the Swede, +Whose camp was a church, where prayers were said +At morning reveille and evening tattoo; +And, whenever it chanced that we frisky grew, +A sermon himself from the saddle he'd read. + +SERGEANT. +Ay, that was a man with the fear of God. + +FIRST YAGER. +Girls he detested; and what's rather odd, +If caught with a wench you in wedlock were tacked,-- +I could stand it no longer, so off I packed. + +SERGEANT. +Their discipline now has a trifle slacked. + +FIRST YAGER. +Well, next to the League I rode over; their men +Were mustering in haste against Magdeburg then. +Ha! that was another guess sort of a thing! +In frolic and fun we'd a glorious swing; +With gaming, and drinking, and girls at call, +I'faith, sirs, our sport was by no means small. +For Tilly knew how to command, that's plain; +He held himself in but gave us the rein; +And, long as he hadn't the bother of paying, +"Live and let live!" was the general's saying. +But fortune soon gave him the slip; and ne'er +Since the day of that villanous Leipzig affair +Would aught go aright. 'Twas of little avail +That we tried, for our plans were sure to fail. +If now we drew nigh and rapped at the door, +No greeting awaited, 'twas opened no more; +From place to place we went sneaking about, +And found that their stock of respect was out; +Then touched I the Saxon bounty, and thought +Their service with fortune must needs be fraught. + +SERGEANT. +You joined them then just in the nick to share +Bohemia's plunder? + +FIRST YAGER. + I'd small luck there. +Strict discipline sternly ruled the day, +Nor dared we a foeman's force display; +They set us to guard the imperial forts, +And plagued us all with the farce of the courts. +War they waged as a jest 'twere thought-- +And but half a heart to the business brought, +They would break with none; and thus 'twas plain +Small honor among them could a soldier gain. +So heartily sick in the end grew I +That my mind was the desk again to try; +When suddenly, rattling near and far, +The Friedlander's drum was heard to war. + +SERGEANT. +And how long here may you mean to stay? + +FIRST YAGER. +You jest, man. So long as he bears the sway, +By my soul! not a thought of change have I; +Where better than here could the soldier lie? +Here the true fashion of war is found, +And the cut of power's on all things round; +While the spirit whereby the movement's given +Mightily stirs, like the winds of heaven, +The meanest trooper in all the throng. +With a hearty step shall I tramp along +On a burgher's neck as undaunted tread +As our general does on the prince's head. +As 'twas in the times of old 'tis now, +The sword is the sceptre, and all must bow. +One crime alone can I understand, +And that's to oppose the word of command. +What's not forbidden to do make bold, +And none will ask you what creed you hold. +Of just two things in this world I wot, +What belongs to the army and what does not, +To the banner alone is my service brought. + +SERGEANT. +Thus, Yager, I like thee--thou speakest, I vow, +With the tone of a Friedland trooper now. + +FIRST YAGER. +'Tis not as an office he holds command, +Or a power received from the emperor's hand; +For the emperor's service what should he care, +What better for him does the emperor fare? +With the mighty power he wields at will, +Has ever he sheltered the land from ill? +No; a soldier-kingdom he seeks to raise, +And for this would set the world in a blaze, +Daring to risk and to compass all-- + +TRUMPETER. +Hush--who shall such words as these let fall? + +FIRST YAGER. +Whatever I think may be said by me, +For the general tells us the word is free. + +SERGEANT. +True--that he said so I fully agree, +I was standing by. "The word is free-- +The deed is dumb--obedience blind!" +His very words I can call to mind. + +FIRST YAGER. +I know not if these were his words or no, +But he said the thing, and 'tis even so. + +SECOND YAGER. +Victory ne'er will his flag forsake, +Though she's apt from others a turn to take: +Old Tilly outlived his fame's decline, +But under the banner of Wallenstein, +There am I certain that victory's mine! +Fortune is spell-bound to him, and must yield; +Whoe'er under Friedland shall take the field +Is sure of a supernatural shield: +For, as all the world is aware full well, +The duke has a devil in hire from hell. + +SERGEANT. +In truth that he's charmed is past a doubt, +For we know how, at Luetzen's bloody affair, +Where firing was thickest he still was there, +As coolly as might be, sirs, riding about. +The hat on his head was shot thro' and thro', +In coat and boots the bullets that flew +Left traces full clear to all men's view; +But none got so far as to scratch off his skin, +For the ointment of hell was too well rubbed in. + +FIRST YAGER. +What wonders so strange can you all see there? +An elk-skin jacket he happens to wear, +And through it the bullets can make no way. + +SERGEANT. +'Tis an ointment of witches' herbs, I say, +Kneaded and cooked by unholy spell. + +TRUMPETER. +No doubt 'tis the work of the powers of hell. + +SERGEANT. +That he reads in the stars we also hear, +Where the future he sees--distant or near-- +But I know better the truth of the case +A little gray man, at the dead of night, +Through bolted doors to him will pace-- +The sentinels oft have hailed the sight, +And something great was sure to be nigh, +When this little gray-coat had glided by. + +FIRST YAGER. +Ay, ay, he's sold himself to the devil, +Wherefore, my lads, let's feast and revel. + + + + SCENE VII. + + The above--Recruit, Citizen, Dragoon. + + (The Recruit advances from the tent, wearing a tin cap + on his head, and carrying a wine-flask.) + +RECRUIT. +To father and uncle pray make my bow, +And bid 'em good-by--I'm a soldier now. + +FIRST YAGER. +See, yonder they're bringing us something new, + +CITIZEN. +Oh, Franz, remember, this day you'll rue. + +RECRUIT (sings). + The drum and the fife, + War's rattling throng, + And a wandering life + The world along! + Swift steed--and a hand + To curb and command-- + With a blade by the side, + We're off far and wide. + As jolly and free, + As the finch in its glee, + On thicket or tree, + Under heaven's wide hollow-- +Hurrah! for the Friedlander's banner I'll follow! + +SECOND YAGER. +Foregad! a jolly companion, though. + + [They salute him. + +CITIZEN. +He comes of good kin; now pray let him go. + +FIRST YAGER. +And we wern't found in the streets you must know. + +CITIZEN. +I tell you his wealth is a plentiful stock; +Just feel the fine stuff that he wears for a frock. + +TRUMPETER. +The emperor's coat is the best he can wear. + +CITIZEN. +To a cap manufactory he is the heir. + +SECOND YAGER. +The will of a man is his fortune alone. + +CITIZEN. +His grandmother's shop will soon be his own. + +FIRST YAGER. +Pish! traffic in matches! who would do't? + +CITIZEN. +A wine-shop his grandfather leaves, to boot, +A cellar with twenty casks of wine. + +TRUMPETER. +These with his comrades he'll surely share. + +SECOND YAGER. +Hark ye, lad--be a camp-brother of mine. + +CITIZEN. +A bride he leaves sitting, in tears, apart. + +FIRST YAGER. +Good--that now's a proof of an iron heart. + +CITIZEN. +His grandmother's sure to die with sorrow. + +SECOND YAGER. +The better--for then he'll inherit to-morrow. + +SERGEANT (advances gravely, and lays his hand on the + Recruit's tin cap). +The matter no doubt you have duly weighed, +And here a new man of yourself have made; +With hanger and helm, sir, you now belong +To a nobler and more distinguished throng. +Thus, a loftier spirit 'twere well to uphold-- + +FIRST YAGER. +And, specially, never be sparing of gold. + +SERGEANT. +In Fortune's ship, with an onward gale, +My friend, you have made up your mind to sail. +The earth-ball is open before you--yet there +Naught's to be gained, but by those who dare. +Stupid and sluggish your citizen's found, +Like a dyer's dull jade, in his ceaseless round, +While the soldier can be whatever he will, +For war o'er the earth is the watchword still. +Just look now at me, and the coat I wear, +You see that the emperor's baton I bear-- +And all good government, over the earth, +You must know from the baton alone has birth; +For the sceptre that's swayed by the kingly hand +Is naught but a baton, we understand. +And he who has corporal's rank obtained, +Stands on the ladder where all's to be gained, +And you, like another, may mount to that height-- + +FIRST YAGER. +Provided you can but read and write. + +SERGEANT. +Now, hark to an instance of this from me, +And one, which I've lived myself to see +There's Butler, the chief of dragoons, why he, +Whose rank was not higher a whit than mine, +Some thirty years since, at Cologne on Rhine, +Is a major-general now--because +He put himself forward and gained applause; +Filling the world with his martial fame, +While slept my merits without a name. +And even the Friedlander's self--I've heard-- +Our general and all-commanding lord, +Who now can do what he will at a word, +Had at first but a private squire's degree; +In the goddess of war yet trusting free, +He reared the greatness which now you see, +And, after the emperor, next is he. +Who knows what more he may mean or get? + (Slyly.) +For all-day's evening isn't come yet. + +FIRST YAGER. +He was little at first, though now so great-- +For at Altorf, in student's gown he played +By your leave, the part of a roaring blade, +And rattled away at a queerish rate. +His fag he had well nigh killed by a blow, +And their Nur'mburg worships swore he should go +To jail for his pains--if he liked it or no. +'Twas a new-built nest to be christened by him +Who first should be lodged. Well, what was his whim? +Why, he sent his dog forward to lead the way, +And they call the jail from the dog to this day. +That was the game a brave fellow should play, +And of all the great deeds of the general, none +E'er tickled my fancy, like this one. + + [During this speech, the second Yager has begun toying + with the girl who has been in waiting.] + +DRAGOON (stepping between them). +Comrade--give over this sport, I pray. + +SECOND YAGER. +Why, who the devil shall say me nay! + +DRAGOON. +I've only to tell you the girl's my own. + +FIRST YAGER. +Such a morsel as this, for himself alone!-- +Dragoon, why say, art thou crazy grown? + +SECOND YAGER. +In the camp to be keeping a wench for one! +No! the light of a pretty girl's face must fall, +Like the beams of the sun, to gladden us all. + (Kisses her.) +DRAGOON (tears her away). +I tell you again, that it shan't be done. + +FIRST YAGER. +The pipers are coming, lads! now for fun! + +SECOND YAGER (to Dragoon). +I shan't be far off, should you look for me. + +SERGEANT. +Peace, my good fellows!--a kiss goes free. + + + + SCENE VIII. + + Enter Miners, and play a waltz--at first slowly, and + afterwards quicker. The first Yager dances with the girl, + the Sutler-woman with the recruit. The girl springs away, + and the Yager, pursuing her, seizes hold of a Capuchin + Friar just entering. + +CAPUCHIN. +Hurrah! halloo! tol, lol, de rol, le! +The fun's at its height! I'll not be away! +Is't an army of Christians that join in such works? +Or are we all turned Anabaptists and Turks? +Is the Sabbath a day for this sport in the land, +As though the great God had the gout in his hand, +And thus couldn't smite in the midst of your band? +Say, is this a time for your revelling shouts, +For your banquetings, feasts, and holiday bouts? +Quid hic statis otiosi? declare +Why, folding your arms, stand ye lazily there? +While the furies of war on the Danube now fare +And Bavaria's bulwark is lying full low, +And Ratisbon's fast in the clutch of the foe. +Yet, the army lies here in Bohemia still, +And caring for naught, so their paunches they fill! +Bottles far rather than battles you'll get, +And your bills than your broad-swords more readily wet; +With the wenches, I ween, is your dearest concern, +And you'd rather roast oxen than Oxenstiern. +In sackcloth and ashes while Christendom's grieving, +No thought has the soldier his guzzle of leaving. +'Tis a time of misery, groans, and tears! +Portentous the face of the heavens appears! +And forth from the clouds behold blood-red, +The Lord's war-mantle is downward spread-- +While the comet is thrust as a threatening rod, +From the window of heaven by the hand of God. +The world is but one vast house of woe, +The ark of the church stems a bloody flow, +The Holy Empire--God help the same! +Has wretchedly sunk to a hollow name. +The Rhine's gay stream has a gory gleam, +The cloister's nests are robbed by roysters; +The church-lands now are changed to lurch-lands; +Abbacies, and all other holy foundations +Now are but robber-sees--rogues' habitations. +And thus is each once-blest German state, +Deep sunk in the gloom of the desolate! +Whence comes all this? Oh, that will I tell-- +It comes of your doings, of sin, and of hell; +Of the horrible, heathenish lives ye lead, +Soldiers and officers, all of a breed. +For sin is the magnet, on every hand, +That draws your steel throughout the land! +As the onion causes the tear to flow, +So vice must ever be followed by woe-- +The W duly succeeds the V, +This is the order of A, B, C. +Ubi erit victoriae spes, +Si offenditur Deus? which says, +How, pray ye, shall victory e'er come to pass, +If thus you play truant from sermon and mass, +And do nothing but lazily loll o'er the glass? +The woman, we're told in the Testament, +Found the penny in search whereof she went. +Saul met with his father's asses again, +And Joseph his precious fraternal train, +But he, who 'mong soldiers shall hope to see +God's fear, or shame, or discipline--he +From his toil, beyond doubt, will baffled return, +Though a hundred lamps in the search he burn. +To the wilderness preacher, th' Evangelist says, +The soldiers, too, thronged to repent of their ways, +And had themselves christened in former days. +Quid faciemus nos? they said: +Toward Abraham's bosom what path must we tread? +Et ait illis, and, said he, +Neminem concutiatis; +From bother and wrongs leave your neighbors free. +Neque calumniam faciatis; +And deal nor in slander nor lies, d'ye see? +Contenti estote--content ye, pray, +Stipendiis vestris--with your pay-- +And curse forever each evil way. +There is a command--thou shalt not utter +The name of the Lord thy God in vain; +But, where is it men most blasphemies mutter? +Why here, in Duke Friedland's headquarters, 'tie plain +If for every thunder, and every blast, +Which blazing ye from your tongue-points cast, +The bells were but rung, in the country round, +Not a bellman, I ween, would there soon be found; +And if for each and every unholy prayer +Which to vent from your jabbering jaws you dare, +From your noddles were plucked but the smallest hair, +Ev'ry crop would be smoothed ere the sun went down, +Though at morn 'twere as bushy as Absalom's crown. +Now, Joshua, methinks, was a soldier as well-- +By the arm of King David the Philistine fell; +But where do we find it written, I pray, +That they ever blasphemed in this villanous way? +One would think ye need stretch your jaws no more, +To cry, "God help us!" than "Zounds!" to roar. +But, by the liquor that's poured in the cask, we know +With what it will bubble and overflow. +Again, it is written--thou shalt not steal, +And this you follow, i'faith! to the letter, +For open-faced robbery suits ye better. +The gripe of your vulture claws you fix +On all--and your wiles and rascally tricks +Make the gold unhid in our coffers now, +And the calf unsafe while yet in the cow-- +Ye take both the egg and the hen, I vow. +Contenti estote--the preacher said; +Which means--be content with your army bread. +But how should the slaves not from duty swerve? +The mischief begins with the lord they serve, +Just like the members so is the head. +I should like to know who can tell me his creed. + +FIRST YAGER. +Sir priest, 'gainst ourselves rail on as you will-- +Of the general we warn you to breathe no ill. + +CAPUCHIN. +Ne custodias gregem meam! +An Ahab is he, and a Jerobeam, +Who the people from faith's unerring way, +To the worship of idols would turn astray, + +TRUMPETER and RECRUIT. +Let us not hear that again, we pray. + +CAPUCHIN. +Such a Bramarbas, whose iron tooth +Would seize all the strongholds of earth forsooth! +Did he not boast, with ungodly tongue, +That Stralsund must needs to his grasp be wrung, +Though to heaven itself with a chain 'twere strung? + +TRUMPETER. +Will none put a stop to his slanderous bawl? + +CAPUCHIN. +A wizard he is!--and a sorcerer Saul!-- +Holofernes!--a Jehu!--denying, we know, +Like St. Peter, his Master and Lord below; +And hence must he quail when the cock doth crow-- + +BOTH YAGERS. +Now, parson, prepare; for thy doom is nigh. + +CAPUCHIN. +A fox more cunning than Herod, I trow-- + +TRUMPETER and both YAGERS (pressing against him). +Silence, again,--if thou wouldst not die! + +CROATS (interfering.) +Stick to it, father; we'll shield you, ne'er fear; +The close of your preachment now let's hear. + +CAPUCHIN (still louder). +A Nebuchadnezzar in towering pride! +And a vile and heretic sinner beside! +He calls himself rightly the stone of a wall; +For faith! he's a stumbling-stone to us all. +And ne'er can the emperor have peace indeed, +Till of Friedland himself the land is freed. + + [During the last passages which he pronounces in an elevated + voice, he has been gradually retreating, the Croats keeping + the other soldiers off. + + + + SCENE IX. + + The above, without the Capuchin. + +FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant). + +But, tell us, what meant he about chanticleer; +Whose crowing the general dares to hear? +No doubt it was uttered in spite and scorn. + +SERGEANT. +Listen--'Tis not so untrue as it appears; +For Friedland was rather mysteriously born, +And is 'specially troubled with ticklish ears; +He can never suffer the mew of a cat; +And when the cock crows he starts thereat. + +FIRST YAGER. +He's one and the same with the lion in that. + +SERGEANT. +Mouse-still must all around him creep, +Strict watch in this the sentinels keep, +For he ponders on matters most grave and deep. + [Voices in the tent. A tumult. +Seize the rascal! Lay on! lay on! + +PEASANT'S VOICE. +Help!--mercy--help! + +OTHERS. + Peace! peace! begone! + +FIRST YAGER. +Deuce take me, but yonder the swords are out! + +SECOND YAGER. +Then I must be off, and see what 'tis about. + + [Yagers enter the tent. + +SUTLER-WOMAN (comes forward). +A scandalous villain!--a scurvy thief! + +TRUMPETER. +Good hostess, the cause of this clamorous grief? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +A cut-purse! a scoundrel! the-villain I call. +That the like in my tent should ever befall! +I'm disgraced and undone with the officers all. + +SERGEANT. +Well, coz, what is it? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. + Why, what should it be? +But a peasant they've taken just now with me-- +A rogue with false dice, to favor his play. + +TRUMPETER. +See I they're bringing the boor and his son this way. + + + + SCENE X. + + Soldiers dragging in the peasant, bound. + +FIRST YAGER. +He must hang! + +SHARPSHOOTERS and DRAGOONS. + To the provost, come on! + +SERGEANT. +'Tis the latest order that forth has gone. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +In an hour I hope to behold him swinging! + +SERGEANT. +Bad work bad wages will needs be bringing. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (to the others). +This comes of their desperation. We +First ruin them out and out, d'ye see; +Which tempts them to steal, as it seems to me. + +TRUMPETER. +How now! the rascal's cause would you plead? +The cur! the devil is in you indeed! + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +The boor is a man--as a body may say. + +FIRST YAGER (to the Trumpeter). +Let 'em go! they're of Tiefenbach's corps, the railers, +A glorious train of glovers and tailors! +At Brieg, in garrison, long they lay; +What should they know about camps, I pray? + + + + SCENE XI. + + The above.--Cuirassiers. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Peace! what's amiss with the boor, may I crave? + +FIRST SHARPSHOOTER. +He has cheated at play, the cozening knave! + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +But say, has he cheated you, man, of aught? + +FIRST SHARPHOOTER. +Just cleaned me out--and not left me a groat. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +And can you, who've the rank of a Friedland man, +So shamefully cast yourself away, +As to try your luck with the boor at play? +Let him run off, so that run he can. + + [The peasant escapes, the others throng together. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +He makes short work--is of resolute mood-- +And that with such fellows as these is good. +Who is he? not of Bohemia, that's clear. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +He's a Walloon--and respect, I trow, +Is due to the Pappenheim cuirassier! + +FIRST DRAGOON (joining). +Young Piccolomini leads them now, +Whom they chose as colonel, of their own free might, +When Pappenheim fell in Luetzen's fight. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Durst they, indeed, presume so far? + +FIRST DRAGOON. +This regiment is something above the rest. +It has ever been foremost through the war, +And may manage its laws, as it pleases best; +Besides, 'tis by Friedland himself caressed. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER (to the Second.) +Is't so in truth, man? Who averred it? + +SECOND CUIRASSIER. +From the lips of the colonel himself I heard it. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +The devil! we're not their dogs, I weep! + +FIRST YAGER. +How now, what's wrong? You're swollen with spleen! + +SECOND YAGER. +Is it anything, comrades, may us concern? + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +'Tis what none need be wondrous glad to learn. + + The Soldiers press round him. + +To the Netherlands they would lend us now-- +Cuirassiers, Yagers, and Shooters away, +Eight thousand in all must march, they say. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +What! What! again the old wandering way-- +I got back from Flanders but yesterday! + +SECOND CUIRASSIER (to the Dragoons). +You of Butler's corps must tramp with the rest. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +And we, the Walloons, must doubtless be gone. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Why, of all our squadrons these are the best. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +To march where that Milanese fellow leads on. + +FIRST YAGER. +The infant? that's queer enough in its way. + +SECOND YAGER. +The priest--then, egad! there's the devil to pay. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Shall we then leave the Friedlander's train, +Who so nobly his soldiers doth entertain-- +And drag to the field with this fellow from Spain! +A niggard whom we in our souls disdain! +That'll never go down--I'm off, I swear. + +TRUMPETER. +Why, what the devil should we do there? +We sold our blood to the emperor--ne'er +For this Spanish red hat a drop we'll spare! + +SECOND YAGER. +On the Friedlander's word and credit alone +We ranged ourselves in the trooper line, +And, but for our love to Wallenstein, +Ferdinand ne'er had our service known. + +FIRST DRAGOON. +Was it not Friedland that formed our force? +His fortune shall still be the star of our course. + +SERGEANT. +Silence, good comrades, to me give ear-- +Talking does little to help us here. +Much farther in this I can see than you all, +And a trap has been laid in which we're to fall; + +FIRST YAGER. +List to the order-book! hush--be still! + +SERGEANT. +But first, Cousin Gustel, I pray thee fill +A glass of Melneck, as my stomach's but weak +When I've tossed it off, my mind I'll speak. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Take it, good sergeant. I quake for fear-- +Think you that mischief is hidden here? + +SERGEANT. +Look ye, my friends, 'tis fit and clear +That each should consider what's most near. +But as the general says, say I, +One should always the whole of a case descry. +We call ourselves all the Friedlander's troops; +The burgher, on whom we're billeted, stoops +Our wants to supply, and cooks our soups. +His ox, or his horse, the peasant must chain +To our baggage-car, and may grumble in vain. +Just let a lance-corp'ral, with seven good men, +Tow'rd a village from far but come within ken, +You're sure he'll be prince of the place, and may +Cut what capers he will, with unquestioned sway. +Why, zounds! lads, they heartily hate us all-- +And would rather the devil should give them a call, +Than our yellow collars. And why don't they fall +On us fairly at once and get rid of our lumber? +They're more than our match in point of number, +And carry the cudgel as we do the sword. +Why can we laugh them to scorn? By my word +Because we make up here a terrible horde. + +FIRST YAGER. +Ay, ay, in the mass lies the spell of our might, +And the Friedlander judged the matter aright, +When, some eight or nine years ago, he brought +The emperor's army together. They thought +Twelve thousand enough for the general. In vain, +Said he, such a force I can never maintain. +Sixty thousand I'll bring ye into the plain, +And they, I'll be sworn, won't of hunger die, +And thus were we Wallenstein's men, say I. + +SERGEANT. +For example, cut one of my fingers off, +This little one here from my right hand doff. +Is the taking my finger then all you've done? +No, no, to the devil my hand is gone! +'Tis a stump--no more--and use has none. +The eight thousand horse they wish to disband +May be but a finger of our army's hand. +But when they're once gone may we understand +We are but one-fifth the less? Oh, no-- +By the Lord, the whole to the devil will go! +All terror, respect, and awe will be over, +And the peasant will swell his crest once more; +And the Board of Vienna will order us where +Our troops must be quartered and how we must fare, +As of old in the days of their beggarly care. +Yes, and how long it will be who can say +Ere the general himself they may take away? +For they don't much like him at court I learn? +And then it's all up with the whole concern! +For who, to our pay, will be left to aid us? +And see that they keep the promise they made us? +Who has the energy--who the mind-- +The flashing thought--and the fearless hand-- +Together to bring, and thus fastly bind +The fragments that form our close-knit band. +For example, dragoon--just answer us now, +From which of the countries of earth art thou? + +DRAGOON. +From distant Erin came I here. + +SERGEANT (to the two Cuirassiers). +You're a Walloon, my friend, that's clear, +And you, an Italian, as all may hear. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Who I may be, faith! I never could say; +In my infant years they stole me away. + +SERGEANT. +And you, from what far land may you be? + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +I come from Buchau--on the Feder Sea. + +SERGEANT. +Neighbor, and you? + +SECOND ARQUEBUSIER. + I am a Swiss. + +SERGEANT (to the second Yager). +And Yager, let's hear where your country is? + +SECOND YAGER. +Up above Wismar my fathers dwell. + +SERGEANT (pointing to the Trumpeter). +And he's from Eger--and I as well: +And now, my comrades, I ask you whether, +Would any one think, when looking at us, +That we, from the North and South, had thus +Been hitherward drifted and blown together? +Do we not seem as hewn from one mass? +Stand we not close against the foe +As though we were glued or moulded so? +Like mill-work don't we move, d'ye think! +'Mong ourselves in the nick, at a word or wink. +Who has thus cast us here all as one, +Now to be severed again by none? +Who? why, no other than Wallenstein! + +FIRST YAGER. +In my life it ne'er was a thought of mine +Whether we suited each other or not, +I let myself go with the rest of the lot. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +I quite agree in the sergeant's opinion-- +They'd fain have an end of our camp dominion, +And trample the soldier down, that they +May govern alone in their own good way. +'Tis a conspiration--a plot, I say! + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +A conspiration--God help the day! +Then my customers won't have cash to pay. + +SERGEANT. +Why, faith, we shall all be bankrupts made; +The captains and generals, most of them, paid +The costs of the regiments with private cash, +And, wishing, 'bove all, to cut a dash, +Went a little beyond their means--but thought, +No doubt, that they thus had a bargain bought. +Now they'll be cheated, sirs, one and all, +Should our chief, our head, the general fall. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Oh, Heaven! this curse I never can brook +Why, half of the army stand in my book. +Two hundred dollars I've trusted madly +That Count Isolani who pays so badly. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Well, comrades, let's fix on what's to be done-- +Of the ways to save us, I see but one; +If we hold together we need not fear; +So let us stand out as one man here; +And then they may order and send as they will, +Fast planted we'll stick in Bohemia still. +We'll never give in--no, nor march an inch, +We stand on our honor, and must not flinch. + +SECOND YAGER. +We're not to be driven the country about, +Let 'em come here, and they'll find it out. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Good sirs, 'twere well to bethink ye still, +That such is the emperor's sovereign will. + +TRUMPETER. +Oh, as to the emperor, we needn't be nice. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Let me not hear you say so twice. + +TRUMPETER. +Why, 'tis even so--as I just have said. + +FIRST YAGER. +True, man--I've always heard 'em say, +'Tis Friedland, alone, you've here to obey. + +SERGEANT. +By our bargain with him it should be so, +Absolute power is his, you must know, +We've war, or peace, but as he may please, +Or gold or goods he has power to seize, +And hanging or pardon his will decrees. +Captains and colonels he makes--and he, +In short, by the imperial seal is free, +To hold all the marks of sovereignty. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +The duke is high and of mighty will, +But yet must remain, for good or for ill, +Like us all, but the emperor's servant still. + +SERGEANT. +Not like us all--I there disagree-- +Friedland is quite independent and free, +The Bavarian is no more a prince than he +For, was I not by myself to see, +When on duty at Brandeis, how the emperor said, +He wished him to cover his princely head. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +That was because of the Mecklenburgh land, +Which he held in pawn from the emperor's hand. + +FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant). +In the emperor's presence, man! say you so? +That, beyond doubt, was a wonderful go! + +SERGEANT (feels in his pocket). +If you question my word in what I have told, +I can give you something to grasp and hold. + [Showing a coin. +Whose image and stamp d'ye here behold? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Oh! that is a Wallenstein's, sure! + +SERGEANT-MAJOR. +Well, there, you have it--what doubt can rest +Is he not prince, just as good as the best? +Coins he not money like Ferdinand? +Hath he not his own subjects and land? +Is he not called your highness, I pray? +And why should he not have his soldiers in? + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +That no one has ever meant to gainsay; +But we're still at the emperor's beck and call, +For his majesty 'tis who pays us all. + +TRUMPETER. +In your teeth I deny it--and will again-- +His majesty 'tis who pays us not, +For this forty weeks, say, what have we got +But a promise to pay, believed in vain? + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +What then! 'tis kept in safe hands, I suppose. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Peace, good sirs, will you come to blows? +Have you a quarrel and squabble to know +If the emperor be our master or no? +'Tis because of our rank, as his soldiers brave, +That we scorn the lot of the herded slave; +And will not be driven from place to place, +As priest or puppies our path may trace. +And, tell me, is't not the sovereign's gain, +If the soldiers their dignity will maintain? +Who but his soldiers give him the state +Of a mighty, wide-ruling potentate? +Make and preserve for him, far and near, +The voice which Christendom quakes to hear? +Well enough they may his yoke-chain bear, +Who feast on his favors, and daily share, +In golden chambers, his sumptuous fare. +We--we of his splendors have no part, +Naught but hard wearying toil and care, +And the pride that lives in a soldier's heart. + +SECOND YAGER. +All great tyrants and kings have shown +Their wit, as I take it, in what they've done; +They've trampled all others with stern command, +But the soldier they've led with a gentle hand. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +The soldier his worth must understand; +Whoe'er doesn't nobly drive the trade, +'Twere best from the business far he'd stayed. +If I cheerily set my life on a throw, +Something still better than life I'll know; +Or I'll stand to be slain for the paltry pelf, +As the Croat still does--and scorn myself. + +BOTH PAGERS. +Yes--honor is dearer than life itself. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +The sword is no plough, nor delving tool, +He, who would till with it, is but a fool. +For us, neither grass nor grain doth grow, +Houseless the soldier is doomed to go, +A changeful wanderer over the earth, +Ne'er knowing the warmth of a home-lit hearth. +The city glances--he halts--not there-- +Nor in village meadows, so green and fair; +The vintage and harvest wreath are twined +He sees, but must leave them far behind. +Then, tell me, what hath the soldier left, +If he's once of his self-esteem bereft? +Something he must have his own to call, +Or on slaughter and burnings at once he'll fall. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +God knows, 'tis a wretched life to live! + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Yet one, which I, for no other would give, +Look ye--far round in the world I've been, +And all of its different service seen. +The Venetian Republic--the Kings of Spain +And Naples I've served, and served in vain. +Fortune still frowned--and merchant and knight, +Craftsmen and Jesuit, have met my sight; +Yet, of all their jackets, not one have I known +To please me like this steel coat of my own. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Well--that now is what I can scarcely say. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +In the world, a man who would make his way, +Must plague and bestir himself night and day. +To honor and place if he choose the road, +He must bend his back to the golden load. +And if home-delights should his fancy please, +With children and grandchildren round his knees, +Let him follow an honest trade in peace. +I've no taste for this kind of life--not I! +Free will I live, and as freely die. +No man's spoiler nor heir will I be-- +But, throned on my nag, I will smile to see +The coil of the crowd that is under me. + +FIRST YAGER. +Bravo!--that's as I've always done. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +In truth, sirs, it may be far better fun +To trample thus over your neighbor's crown. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Comrade, the times are bad of late-- +The sword and the scales live separate. +But do not then blame that I've preferred, +Of the two, to lean, as I have, to the sword. +For mercy in war I will yield to none, +Though I never will stoop to be drummed upon. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Who but the soldier the blame should bear +That the laboring poor so hardly fare? +The war with its plagues, which all have blasted +Now sixteen years in the land hath lasted. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Why, brother, the blessed God above +Can't have from us all an equal love. +One prays for the sun, at which t'other will fret +One is for dry weather-t'other for wet. +What you, now, regard as with misery rife, +Is to me the unclouded sun of life. +If 'tis at the cost of the burgher and boor, +I really am sorry that they must endure; +But how can I help it? Here, you must know, +'Tis just like a cavalry charge 'gainst the foe: +The steeds loud snorting, and on they go! +Whoever may lie in the mid-career-- +Be it my brother or son so dear, +Should his dying groan my heart divide, +Yet over his body I needs must ride, +Nor pitying stop to drag him aside. + +FIRST YAGER. +True--who ever asks how another may bide? + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Thus, my lads, 'tis my counsel, while +On the soldier Dame Fortune deigns to smile, +That we with both hands her bounty clasp, +For it may not be much longer left to our grasp. +Peace will be coming some over-night, +And then there's an end of our martial might. +The soldier unhorsed, and fresh mounted to boor, +Ere you can think it 'twill be as before. +As yet we're together firm bound in the land, +The hilt is yet fast in the soldier's hand. +But let 'em divide us, and soon we shall find, +Short commons is all that remains behind. + +FIRST YAGER. +No, no, by the Lord! That won't do for me. +Come, come, lads, let's all now, as one, agree. + +SECOND YAGER. +Yes, let us resolve on what 'tis to be. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (To the Sutler-woman, drawing out his leather purse). +Hostess, tell us how high you've scored. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Oh, 'tis unworthy a single word. + + [They settle. + +TRUMPETER. +You do well, sirs, to take a further walk, +Your company only disturbs our talk. + + [Exeunt Arquebusiers. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Plague take the fellows--they're brave, I know. + +FIRST YAGER. +They haven't a soul 'bove a soapboiler's, though. + +SECOND YAGER. +We're now alone, so teach us who can +How best we may meet and mar their plan. + +TRUMPETER. +How? Why, let's tell them we will not go! + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Despising all discipline! No, my lads, no, +Rather his corps let each of us seek, +And quietly then with his comrades speak, +That every soldier may clearly know, +It were not for his good so far to go; +For my Walloons to answer I'm free, +Every man of 'em thinks and acts with me. + +SERGEANT. +The Terzky regiments, both horse and foot, +Will thus resolve, and will keep them to't. + +SECOND CUIRASSIER (joining the first). +The Walloons and the Lombards one intent. + +FIRST YAGER. +Freedom is Yagers' own element. + +SECOND YAGER. +Freedom must ever with might entwine-- +I live and will die by Wallenstein. + +FIRST SHARPSHOOTER. +The Lorrainers go on with the strongest tide, +Where spirits are light and courage tried. + +DRAGOON. +An Irishman follows his fortune's star. + +SECOND SHARPSHOOTER. +The Tyrolese for their sovereign war. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Then, comrades, let each of our corps agree +A pro memoria to sign--that we, +In spite of all force or fraud, will be +To the fortunes of Friedland firmly bound, +For in him is the soldier's father found. +This we will humbly present, when done, +To Piccolomini--I mean the son-- +Who understands these kind of affairs, +And the Friedlander's highest favor shares; +Besides, with the emperor's self, they say +He holds a capital card to play. + +SECOND YAGER. +Well, then, in this, let us all agree, +That the colonel shall our spokesman be! + +ALL (going). +Good! the colonel shall our spokesman be. + +SERGEANT. +Hold, sirs--just toss off a glass with me +To the health of Piccolomini. + +SUTLER-WOMAN (brings a flask). +This shall not go to the list of scores, +I gladly give it--success be yours! + +CUIRASSIER. +The soldier shall sway! + +BOTH YAGERS. + The peasant shall pay + +DRAGOONS and SHARPSHOOTERS. +The army shall flourishing stand! + +TRUMPETER and SERGEANT. +And the Friedlander keep the command! + +SECOND CUIRASSIER (sings). + + Arouse ye, my comrades, to horse! to horse! + To the field and to freedom we guide! + For there a man feels the pride of his force + And there is the heart of him tried. + No help to him there by another is shown, + He stands for himself and himself alone. + +[The soldiers from the background have come forward during the singing +of this verse and form the chorus. + +CHORUS. + + No help to him by another is shown, + He stands for himself and himself alone. + +DRAGOON. + + Now freedom hath fled from the world, we find + But lords and their bondsmen vile + And nothing holds sway in the breast of mankind + Save falsehood and cowardly guile. + Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow, + The soldier, alone, is the freeman now. + +CHORUS. + + Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow, + The soldier, alone, is the freeman now. + +FIRST YAGER. + + With the troubles of life he ne'er bothers his pate, + And feels neither fear nor sorrow; + But boldly rides onward to meet with his fate-- + He may meet it to-day, or to-morrow! + And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say, + Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day! + +CHORUS. + + And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say, + Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day! + +[The glasses are here refilled, and all drink. + +SERGEANT. + + 'Tis from heaven his jovial lot has birth; + Nor needs he to strive or toil. + The peasant may grope in the bowels of earth, + And for treasure may greedily moil + He digs and he delves through life for the pelf, + And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself. + +CHORUS. + + He digs and he delves through life for the pelf, + And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself. + +FIRST YAGER. + + The rider and lightning steed--a pair + Of terrible guests, I ween! + From the bridal-hall, as the torches glare, + Unbidden they join the scene; + Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove; + By storm he carries the prize of love! + +CHORUS. + + Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove; + By storm he carries the prize of love! + +SECOND CUIRASSIER. + + Why mourns the wench with so sorrowful face? + Away, girl, the soldier must go! + No spot on the earth is his resting-place; + And your true love he never can know. + Still onward driven by fate's rude wind, + He nowhere may leave his peace behind. + +CHORUS. + + Still onward driven by fate's rude wind, + He nowhere may leave his peace behind. + +FIRST YAGER. +He takes the two next to him by the hand--the others do the same--and +form a large semi-circle. + + Then rouse ye, my comrades--to horse! to horse! + In battle the breast doth swell! + Youth boils--the life-cup foams in its force-- + Up! ere time can dew dispel! + And deep be the stake, as the prize is high-- + Who life would win, he must dare to die! + +CHORUS. + + And deep be the stake, as the prize is high-- + Who life would win, he must dare to die! + + [The curtain falls before the chorus has finished. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Camp of Wallenstein, by Frederich Schiller + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN *** + +***** This file should be named 6785.txt or 6785.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/6/7/8/6785/ + +Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: The Camp of Wallenstein + +Author: Frederich Schiller + +Release Date: Oct, 2004 [EBook #6785] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on January 21, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALLENSTEIN'S CAMP BY SCHILLER *** + + + +This eBook was produced by Tapio Riikonen +and David Widger, widger@cecomet.net + + + + + + THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN + + Translated by James Churchill. + + +The Camp of Wallenstein is an introduction to the celebrated tragedy of +that name; and, by its vivid portraiture of the state of the general's +army, gives the best clue to the spell of his gigantic power. The blind +belief entertained in the unfailing success of his arms, and in the +supernatural agencies by which that success is secured to him; the +unrestrained indulgence of every passion, and utter disregard of all law, +save that of the camp; a hard oppression of the peasantry and plunder of +the country, have all swollen the soldiery with an idea of interminable +sway. But as we have translated the whole, we shall leave these reckless +marauders to speak for themselves. + +Of Schiller's opinion concerning the Camp, as a necessary introduction to +the tragedy, the following passage taken from the prologue to the first +representation, will give a just idea, and may also serve as a motto to +the work:-- + + "Not he it is, who on the tragic scene + Will now appear--but in the fearless bands + Whom his command alone could sway, and whom + His spirit fired, you may his shadow see, + Until the bashful Muse shall dare to bring + Himself before you in a living form; + For power it was that bore his heart astray + His Camp, alone, elucidates his crime." + + + +THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN. + + + + DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + + Sergeant-Major | of a regiment of Recruit. + Trumpeter | Terzky's carabineers. Citizen. + Artilleryman, Peasant. + Sharpshooters. Peasant Boy. + Mounted Yagers, of Holk's corps. Capuchin. + Dragoons, of Butler's regiment. Regimental Schoolmaster. + Arquebusiers, of Tiefenbach's regiment. Sutler-Woman. + Cuirassier, of a Walloon regiment. Servant Girl. + Cuirassier, of a Lombard regiment. Soldiers' Boys. + Croats. Musicians. + Hulans. + + (SCENE.--The Camp before Pilsen, in Bohemia.) + + + + SCENE I. + + Sutlers' tents--in front, a Slop-shop. Soldiers of all colors and + uniforms thronging about. Tables all filled. Croats and Hulans + cooking at a fire. Sutler-woman serving out wine. Soldier-boys + throwing dice on a drum-head. Singing heard from the tent. + + Enter a Peasant and his Son. + +SON. +Father, I fear it will come to harm, +So let us be off from this soldier swarm; +But boist'rous mates will ye find in the shoal-- +'Twere better to bolt while our skins are whole. + +FATHER. +How now, boy! the fellows wont eat us, though +They may be a little unruly, or so. +See, yonder, arriving a stranger train, +Fresh comers are they from the Saal and Mayne; +Much booty they bring of the rarest sort-- +'Tis ours, if we cleverly drive our sport. +A captain, who fell by his comrade's sword, +This pair of sure dice to me transferred; +To-day I'll just give them a trial to see +If their knack's as good as it used to be. +You must play the part of a pitiful devil, +For these roaring rogues, who so loosely revel, +Are easily smoothed, and tricked, and flattered, +And, free as it came, their gold is scattered. +But we--since by bushels our all is taken, +By spoonfuls must ladle it back again; +And, if with their swords they slash so highly, +We must look sharp, boy, and do them slyly. + + [Singing and shouting in the tent. + +Hark, how they shout! God help the day! +'Tis the peasant's hide for their sport must pay. +Eight months in our beds and stalls have they +Been swarming here, until far around +Not a bird or a beast is longer found, +And the peasant, to quiet his craving maw, +Has nothing now left but his bones to gnaw. +Ne'er were we crushed with a heavier hand, +When the Saxon was lording it o'er the land: +And these are the Emperor's troops, they say! + +SON. +From the kitchen a couple are coming this way, +Not much shall we make by such blades as they. + +FATHER. +They're born Bohemian knaves--the two-- +Belonging to Terzky's carabineers, +Who've lain in these quarters now for years; +The worst are they of the worthless crew. +Strutting, swaggering, proud and vain, +They seem to think they may well disdain +With the peasant a glass of his wine to drain +But, soft--to the left o' the fire I see +Three riflemen, who from the Tyrol should be +Emmerick, come, boy, to them will we. +Birds of this feather 'tis luck to find, +Whose trim's so spruce, and their purse well lined. + + [They move towards the tent. + + + + SCENE II. + + The above--Sergeant-Major, Trumpeter, Hulan. + +TRUMPETER. +What would the boor? Out, rascal, away! + +PEASANT. +Some victuals and drink, worthy masters, I pray, +For not a warm morsel we've tasted to day. + +TRUMPETER. +Ay, guzzle and guttle--'tis always the way. + +HULAN (with a glass). +Not broken your fast! there--drink, ye hound! + + He leads the peasant to the tent--the others come forward. + +SERGEANT (to the Trumpeter). +Think ye they've done it without good ground? +Is it likely they double our pay to-day, +Merely that we may be jolly and gay? + +TRUMPETER. +Why, the duchess arrives to-day, we know, +And her daughter too-- + +SERGEANT. + Tush! that's mere show-- +'Tis the troops collected from other lands +Who here at Pilsen have joined our bands-- +We must do the best we can t' allure 'em, +With plentiful rations, and thus secure 'em. +Where such abundant fare they find, +A closer league with us to bind. + +TRUMPETER. +Yes!--there's something in the wind. + +SERGEANT. +The generals and commanders too-- + +TRUMPETER. +A rather ominous sight, 'tis true. + +SERGEANT. +Who're met together so thickly here-- + +TRUMPETER. +Have plenty of work on their hands, that's clear. + +SERGEANT. +The whispering and sending to and fro-- + +TRUMPETER. +Ay! Ay! + +SERGEANT. +The big-wig from Vienna, I trow, +Who since yesterday's seen to prowl about +In his golden chain of office there-- +Something's at the bottom of this, I'll swear. + +TRUMPETER. +A bloodhound is he beyond a doubt, +By whom the duke's to be hunted out. + +SERGEANT. +Mark ye well, man!--they doubt us now, +And they fear the duke's mysterious brow; +He hath clomb too high for them, and fain +Would they beat him down from his perch again. + +TRUMPETER. +But we will hold him still on high-- +That all would think as you and I! + +SERGEANT. +Our regiment, and the other four +Which Terzky leads--the bravest corps +Throughout the camp, are the General's own, +And have been trained to the trade by himself alone +The officers hold their command of him, +And are all his own, or for life or limb. + + + + SCENE III. + + Enter Croat with a necklace. Sharpshooter following him. + The above. + +SHARPSHOOTER. +Croat, where stole you that necklace, say? +Get rid of it man--for thee 'tis unmeet: +Come, take these pistols in change, I pray. + +CROAT. +Nay, nay, Master Shooter, you're trying to cheat. + +SHARPSHOOTER. +Then I'll give you this fine blue cap as well, +A lottery prize which just I've won: +Look at the cut of it--quite the swell! + +CROAT (twirling the Necklace in the Sun). +But this is of pearls and of garnets bright, +See, how it plays in the sunny light! + +SHARPSHOOTER (taking the Necklace). +Well, I'll give you to boot, my own canteen-- +I'm in love with this bauble's beautiful sheen. + [Looks at it. + +TRUMPETER. +See, now!--how cleanly the Croat is done +Snacks! Master Shooter, and mum's the word. + +CROAT (having put on the cap). +I think your cap is a smartish one. + +SHARPSHOOTER (winking to the Trumpeter). +'Tis a regular swop, as these gents have heard. + + + + SCENE IV. + + The above. An Artilleryman. + +ARTILLERYMAN (to the Sergeant). +How is this I pray, brother carabineer? +Shall we longer stay here, our fingers warming, +While the foe in the field around is swarming? + +SERGEANT. +Art thou, indeed, in such hasty fret? +Why the roads, as I think, are scarce passable yet. + +ARTILLERYMAN. +For me they are not--I'm snug enough here-- +But a courier's come, our wits to waken +With the precious news that Ratisbon's taken. + +TRUMPETER. +Ha! then we soon shall have work in hand. + +SERGEANT. +Indeed! to protect the Bavarian's land, +Who hates the duke, as we understand, +We won't put ourselves in a violent sweat. + +ARTILLERYMAN. +Heyday!--you'll find you're a wiseacre yet. + + + + SCENE V. + + The above--Two Yagers. Afterwards Sutler-woman, + Soldier-boy, Schoolmaster, Servant-girl. + +FIRST YAGER. + See! see! +Here meet we a jovial company! + +TRUMPETER. +Who can these greencoats be, I wonder, +That strut so gay and sprucely yonder! + +SERGEANT. +They're the Yagers of Holk--and the lace they wear, +I'll be sworn, was ne'er purchased at Leipzig fair. + +SUTLER-WOMAN (bringing wine). +Welcome, good sirs! + +FIRST YAGER. + Zounds, how now? +Gustel of Blasewitz here, I vow! + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +The same in sooth--and you I know, +Are the lanky Peter of Itzeho: +Who at Glueckstadt once, in revelling night, +With the wags of our regiment, put to flight +All his father's shiners--then crowned the fun-- + +FIRST YAGER. +By changing his pen for a rifle-gun. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +We're old acquaintance, then, 'tis clear. + +FIRST YAGER. +And to think we should meet in Bohemia here! + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Oh, here to-day--to-morrow yonder-- +As the rude war-broom, in restless trace, +Scatters and sweeps us from place to place. +Meanwhile I've been doomed far round to wander. + +FIRST YAGER. +So one would think, by the look of your face. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Up the country I've rambled to Temsewar, +Whither I went with the baggage-car, +When Mansfeld before us we chased away; +With the duke near Stralsund next we lay, +Where trade went all to pot, I may say. +I jogged with the succors to Mantua; +And back again came, under Feria: +Then, joining a Spanish regiment, +I took a short cut across to Ghent; +And now to Bohemia I'm come to get +Old scores paid off, that are standing yet, +If a helping hand by the duke be lent-- +And yonder you see my sutler's tent. + +FIRST YAGER. +Well, all things seem in a flourishing way, +But what have you done with the Scotchman, say, +Who once in the camp was your constant flame? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +A villain, who tricked me clean, that same +He bolted, and took to himself whate'er +I'd managed to scrape together, or spare, +Leaving me naught but the urchin there. + +SOLDIER-BOY (springing forward). +Mother, is it my papa you name? + +FIRST YAGER. +Well, the emperor now must father this elf, +For the army must ever recruit itself. + +SCHOOLMASTER. +Forth to the school, ye rogue--d'ye hear? + +FIRST YAGER. +He, too, of a narrow room has fear. + +SERVANT GIRL (entering). +Aunt, they'll be off. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. + I come apace. + +FIRST YAGER. +What gypsy is that with the roguish face? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +My sister's child from the south, is she. + +FIRST YAGER. +Ay, ay, a sweet little niece--I see. + +SECOND YAGER (holding the girl). +Softly, my pretty one! stay with me. + +GIRL. +The customers wait, sir, and I must go. + [Disengages herself, and exit. + +FIRST YAGER. +That maiden's a dainty morsel, I trow! +And her aunt--by heaven! I mind me well,-- +When the best of the regiment loved her so, +To blows for her beautiful face they fell. +What different folks one's doomed to know! +How time glows off with a ceaseless flow! +And what sights as yet we may live to see! + (To the Sergeant and Trumpeter.) +Your health, good sirs, may we be free, +A seat beside you here to take? + + + + SCENE VI. + + The Yagers, Sergeant, and Trumpeter. + +SERGEANT. +We thank ye--and room will gladly make. +To Bohemia welcome. + +FIRST YAGER. + Snug enough here! +In the land of the foe our quarters were queer. + +TRUMPETER. +You haven't the look on't--you're spruce to view. + +SERGEANT. +Ay, faith, on the Saal, and in Meissen, too, +Your praises are heard from the lips of few. + +SECOND YAGER. +Tush, man! why, what the plague d'ye mean? +The Croat had swept the fields so clean, +There was little or nothing for us to glean. + +TRUMPETER. +Yet your pointed collar is clean and sightly, +And, then, your hose that sit so tightly! +Your linen so fine, with the hat and feather, +Make a show of smartness altogether! + (To Sergeant.) +That fortune should upon younkers shine-- +While nothing in your way comes, or mine. + +SERGEANT. +But then we're the Friedlander's regiment +And, thus, may honor and homage claim. + +FIRST YAGER. +For us, now, that's no great compliment, +We, also, bear the Friedlander's name. + +SERGEANT. +True--you form part of the general mass. + +FIRST YAGER. +And you, I suppose, are a separate class! +The difference lies in the coats we wear, +And I have no wish to change with you there. + +SERGEANT. +Sir Yager, I can't but with pity melt, +When I think how much among boors you've dwelt. +The clever knack and the proper tone, +Are caught by the general's side alone. + +FIRST YAGER. +Then the lesson is wofully thrown away,-- +How he hawks and spits, indeed, I may say +You've copied and caught in the cleverest way; +But his spirit, his genius--oh, these I ween, +On your guard parade are but seldom seen. + +SECOND YAGER. +Why, zounds! ask for us wherever you will, +Friedland's wild hunt is our title still! +Never shaming the name, all undaunted we go +Alike through the field of a friend, or a foe; +Through the rising stalk, or the yellow corn, +Well know they the blast of Holk's Yager horn. +In the flash of an eye, we are far or near, +Swift as the deluge, or there or here-- +As at midnight dark, when the flames outbreak +In the silent dwelling where none awake; +Vain is the hope in weapons or flight, +Nor order nor discipline thwart its might. +Then struggles the maid in our sinewy arms, +But war hath no pity, and scorns alarms. +Go, ask--I speak not with boastful tongue-- +In Bareuth, Westphalia, Voigtland, where'er +Our troops have traversed--go, ask them there-- +Children and children's children long, +When hundreds and hundreds of years are o'er, +Of Holk will tell and his Yager corps. + +SERGEANT. +Why, hark! Must a soldier then be made +By driving this riotous, roaring trade! +'Tis drilling that makes him, skill and sense-- +Perception--thought--intelligence. + +FIRST YAGER. +'Tis liberty makes him! Here's a fuss! +That I should such twaddle as this discuss. +Was it for this that I left the school? +That the scribbling desk, and the slavish rule, +And the narrow walls, that our spirits cramp, +Should be met with again in the midst of the camp? +No! Idle and heedless, I'll take my way, +Hunting for novelty every day; +Trust to the moment with dauntless mind, +And give not a glance or before or behind. +For this to the emperor I sold my hide, +That no other care I might have to bide. +Through the foe's fierce firing bid me ride, +Through fathomless Rhine, in his roaring flow, +Where ev'ry third man to the devil may go, +At no bar will you find me boggling there; +But, farther than this, 'tis my special prayer, +That I may not be bothered with aught like care. + +SERGEANT. +If this be your wish, you needn't lack it, +'Tis granted to all with the soldier's jacket. + +FIRST YAGER. +What a fuss and a bother, forsooth, was made +By that man-tormentor, Gustavus, the Swede, +Whose camp was a church, where prayers were said +At morning reveille and evening tattoo; +And, whenever it chanced that we frisky grew, +A sermon himself from the saddle he'd read. + +SERGEANT. +Ay, that was a man with the fear of God. + +FIRST YAGER. +Girls he detested; and what's rather odd, +If caught with a wench you in wedlock were tacked,-- +I could stand it no longer, so off I packed. + +SERGEANT. +Their discipline now has a trifle slacked. + +FIRST YAGER. +Well, next to the League I rode over; their men +Were mustering in haste against Magdeburg then. +Ha! that was another guess sort of a thing! +In frolic and fun we'd a glorious swing; +With gaming, and drinking, and girls at call, +I'faith, sirs, our sport was by no means small. +For Tilly knew how to command, that's plain; +He held himself in but gave us the rein; +And, long as he hadn't the bother of paying, +"Live and let live!" was the general's saying. +But fortune soon gave him the slip; and ne'er +Since the day of that villanous Leipzig affair +Would aught go aright. 'Twas of little avail +That we tried, for our plans were sure to fail. +If now we drew nigh and rapped at the door, +No greeting awaited, 'twas opened no more; +From place to place we went sneaking about, +And found that their stock of respect was out; +Then touched I the Saxon bounty, and thought +Their service with fortune must needs be fraught. + +SERGEANT. +You joined them then just in the nick to share +Bohemia's plunder? + +FIRST YAGER. + I'd small luck there. +Strict discipline sternly ruled the day, +Nor dared we a foeman's force display; +They set us to guard the imperial forts, +And plagued us all with the farce of the courts. +War they waged as a jest 'twere thought-- +And but half a heart to the business brought, +They would break with none; and thus 'twas plain +Small honor among them could a soldier gain. +So heartily sick in the end grew I +That my mind was the desk again to try; +When suddenly, rattling near and far, +The Friedlander's drum was heard to war. + +SERGEANT. +And how long here may you mean to stay? + +FIRST YAGER. +You jest, man. So long as he bears the sway, +By my soul! not a thought of change have I; +Where better than here could the soldier lie? +Here the true fashion of war is found, +And the cut of power's on all things round; +While the spirit whereby the movement's given +Mightily stirs, like the winds of heaven, +The meanest trooper in all the throng. +With a hearty step shall I tramp along +On a burgher's neck as undaunted tread +As our general does on the prince's head. +As 'twas in the times of old 'tis now, +The sword is the sceptre, and all must bow. +One crime alone can I understand, +And that's to oppose the word of command. +What's not forbidden to do make bold, +And none will ask you what creed you hold. +Of just two things in this world I wot, +What belongs to the army and what does not, +To the banner alone is my service brought. + +SERGEANT. +Thus, Yager, I like thee--thou speakest, I vow, +With the tone of a Friedland trooper now. + +FIRST YAGER. +'Tis not as an office he holds command, +Or a power received from the emperor's hand; +For the emperor's service what should he care, +What better for him does the emperor fare? +With the mighty power he wields at will, +Has ever he sheltered the land from ill? +No; a soldier-kingdom he seeks to raise, +And for this would set the world in a blaze, +Daring to risk and to compass all-- + +TRUMPETER. +Hush--who shall such words as these let fall? + +FIRST YAGER. +Whatever I think may be said by me, +For the general tells us the word is free. + +SERGEANT. +True--that he said so I fully agree, +I was standing by. "The word is free-- +The deed is dumb--obedience blind!" +His very words I can call to mind. + +FIRST YAGER. +I know not if these were his words or no, +But he said the thing, and 'tis even so. + +SECOND YAGER. +Victory ne'er will his flag forsake, +Though she's apt from others a turn to take: +Old Tilly outlived his fame's decline, +But under the banner of Wallenstein, +There am I certain that victory's mine! +Fortune is spell-bound to him, and must yield; +Whoe'er under Friedland shall take the field +Is sure of a supernatural shield: +For, as all the world is aware full well, +The duke has a devil in hire from hell. + +SERGEANT. +In truth that he's charmed is past a doubt, +For we know how, at Luetzen's bloody affair, +Where firing was thickest he still was there, +As coolly as might be, sirs, riding about. +The hat on his head was shot thro' and thro', +In coat and boots the bullets that flew +Left traces full clear to all men's view; +But none got so far as to scratch off his skin, +For the ointment of hell was too well rubbed in. + +FIRST YAGER. +What wonders so strange can you all see there? +An elk-skin jacket he happens to wear, +And through it the bullets can make no way. + +SERGEANT. +'Tis an ointment of witches' herbs, I say, +Kneaded and cooked by unholy spell. + +TRUMPETER. +No doubt 'tis the work of the powers of hell. + +SERGEANT. +That he reads in the stars we also hear, +Where the future he sees--distant or near-- +But I know better the truth of the case +A little gray man, at the dead of night, +Through bolted doors to him will pace-- +The sentinels oft have hailed the sight, +And something great was sure to be nigh, +When this little gray-coat had glided by. + +FIRST YAGER. +Ay, ay, he's sold himself to the devil, +Wherefore, my lads, let's feast and revel. + + + + SCENE VII. + + The above--Recruit, Citizen, Dragoon. + + (The Recruit advances from the tent, wearing a tin cap + on his head, and carrying a wine-flask.) + +RECRUIT. +To father and uncle pray make my bow, +And bid 'em good-by--I'm a soldier now. + +FIRST YAGER. +See, yonder they're bringing us something new, + +CITIZEN. +Oh, Franz, remember, this day you'll rue. + +RECRUIT (sings). + The drum and the fife, + War's rattling throng, + And a wandering life + The world along! + Swift steed--and a hand + To curb and command-- + With a blade by the side, + We're off far and wide. + As jolly and free, + As the finch in its glee, + On thicket or tree, + Under heaven's wide hollow-- +Hurrah! for the Friedlander's banner I'll follow! + +SECOND YAGER. +Foregad! a jolly companion, though. + + [They salute him. + +CITIZEN. +He comes of good kin; now pray let him go. + +FIRST YAGER. +And we wern't found in the streets you must know. + +CITIZEN. +I tell you his wealth is a plentiful stock; +Just feel the fine stuff that he wears for a frock. + +TRUMPETER. +The emperor's coat is the best he can wear. + +CITIZEN. +To a cap manufactory he is the heir. + +SECOND YAGER. +The will of a man is his fortune alone. + +CITIZEN. +His grandmother's shop will soon be his own. + +FIRST YAGER. +Pish! traffic in matches! who would do't? + +CITIZEN. +A wine-shop his grandfather leaves, to boot, +A cellar with twenty casks of wine. + +TRUMPETER. +These with his comrades he'll surely share. + +SECOND YAGER. +Hark ye, lad--be a camp-brother of mine. + +CITIZEN. +A bride he leaves sitting, in tears, apart. + +FIRST YAGER. +Good--that now's a proof of an iron heart. + +CITIZEN. +His grandmother's sure to die with sorrow. + +SECOND YAGER. +The better--for then he'll inherit to-morrow. + +SERGEANT (advances gravely, and lays his hand on the + Recruit's tin cap). +The matter no doubt you have duly weighed, +And here a new man of yourself have made; +With hanger and helm, sir, you now belong +To a nobler and more distinguished throng. +Thus, a loftier spirit 'twere well to uphold-- + +FIRST YAGER. +And, specially, never be sparing of gold. + +SERGEANT. +In Fortune's ship, with an onward gale, +My, friend, you have made up your mind to sail. +The earth-ball is open before you--yet there +Naught's to be gained, but by those who dare. +Stupid and sluggish your citizen's found, +Like a dyer's dull jade, in his ceaseless round, +While the soldier can be whatever he will, +For war o'er the earth is the watchword still. +Just look now at me, and the coat I wear, +You see that the emperor's baton I bear-- +And all good government, over the earth, +You must know from the baton alone has birth; +For the sceptre that's swayed by the kingly hand +Is naught but a baton, we understand. +And he who has corporal's rank obtained, +Stands on the ladder where all's to be gained, +And you, like another, may mount to that height-- + +FIRST YAGER. +Provided you can but read and write. + +SERGEANT. +Now, hark to an instance of this from me, +And one, which I've lived myself to see +There's Butler, the chief of dragoons, why he, +Whose rank was not higher a whit than mine, +Some thirty years since, at Cologne on Rhine, +Is a major-general now--because +He put himself forward and gained applause; +Filling the world with his martial fame, +While slept my merits without a name. +And even the Friedlander's self--I've heard-- +Our general and all-commanding lord, +Who now can do what he will at a word, +Had at first but a private squire's degree; +In the goddess of war yet trusting free, +He reared the greatness which now you see, +And, after the emperor, next is he. +Who knows what more he may mean or get? + (Slyly.) +For all-day's evening isn't come yet. + +FIRST YAGER. +He was little at first, though now so great-- +For at Altorf, in student's gown he played +By your leave, the part of a roaring blade, +And rattled away at a queerish rate. +His fag he had well nigh killed by a blow, +And their Nur'mburg worships swore he should go +To jail for his pains--if he liked it or no. +'Twas a new-built nest to be christened by him +Who first should be lodged. Well, what was his whim? +Why, he sent his dog forward to lead the way, +And they call the jail from the dog to this day. +That was the game a brave fellow should play, +And of all the great deeds of the general, none +E'er tickled my fancy, like this one. + + [During this speech, the second Yager has begun toying + with the girl who has been in waiting.] + +DRAGOON (stepping between them). +Comrade--give over this sport, I pray. + +SECOND YAGER. +Why, who the devil shall say me nay! + +DRAGOON. +I've only to tell you the girl's my own. + +FIRST YAGER. +Such a morsel as this, for himself alone!-- +Dragoon, why say, art thou crazy grown? + +SECOND YAGER. +In the camp to be keeping a wench for one! +No! the light of a pretty girl's face must fall, +Like the beams of the sun, to gladden us all. + (Kisses her.) +DRAGOON (tears her away). +I tell you again, that it shan't be done. + +FIRST YAGER. +The pipers are coming, lads! now for fun! + +SECOND YAGER (to Dragoon). +I shan't be far off, should you look for me. + +SERGEANT. +Peace, my good fellows!--a kiss goes free. + + + + SCENE VIII. + + Enter Miners, and play a waltz--at first slowly, and + afterwards quicker. The first Yager dances with the girl, + the Sutler-woman with the recruit. The girl springs away, + and the Yager, pursuing her, seizes hold of a Capuchin + Friar just entering. + +CAPUCHIN. +Hurrah! halloo! tol, lol, de rol, le! +The fun's at its height! I'll not be away! +Is't an army of Christians that join in such works? +Or are we all turned Anabaptists and Turks? +Is the Sabbath a day for this sport in the land, +As though the great God had the gout in his hand, +And thus couldn't smite in the midst of your band? +Say, is this a time for your revelling shouts, +For your banquetings, feasts, and holiday bouts? +Quid hic statis otiosi? declare +Why, folding your arms, stand ye lazily there? +While the furies of war on the Danube now fare +And Bavaria's bulwark is lying full low, +And Ratisbon's fast in the clutch of the foe. +Yet, the army lies here in Bohemia still, +And caring for naught, so their paunches they fill! +Bottles far rather than battles you'll get, +And your bills than your broad-swords more readily wet; +With the wenches, I ween, is your dearest concern, +And you'd rather roast oxen than Oxenstiern. +In sackcloth and ashes while Christendom's grieving, +No thought has the soldier his guzzle of leaving. +'Tis a time of misery, groans, and tears! +Portentous the face of the heavens appears! +And forth from the clouds behold blood-red, +The Lord's war-mantle is downward spread-- +While the comet is thrust as a threatening rod, +From the window of heaven by the hand of God. +The world is but one vast house of woe, +The ark of the church stems a bloody flow, +The Holy Empire--God help the same! +Has wretchedly sunk to a hollow name. +The Rhine's gay stream has a gory gleam, +The cloister's nests are robbed by roysters; +The church-lands now are changed to lurch-lands; +Abbacies, and all other holy foundations +Now are but robber-sees--rogues' habitations. +And thus is each once-blest German state, +Deep sunk in the gloom of the desolate! +Whence comes all this? Oh, that will I tell-- +It comes of your doings, of sin, and of hell; +Of the horrible, heathenish lives ye lead, +Soldiers and officers, all of a breed. +For sin is the magnet, on every hand, +That draws your steel throughout the land! +As the onion causes the tear to flow, +So vice must ever be followed by woe-- +The W duly succeeds the V, +This is the order of A, B, C. +Ubi erit victoriae spes, +Si offenditur Deus? which says, +How, pray ye, shall victory e'er come to pass, +If thus you play truant from sermon and mass, +And do nothing but lazily loll o'er the glass? +The woman, we're told in the Testament, +Found the penny in search whereof she went. +Saul met with his father's asses again, +And Joseph his precious fraternal train, +But he, who 'mong soldiers shall hope to see +God's fear, or shame, or discipline--he +From his toil, beyond doubt, will baffled return, +Though a hundred lamps in the search he burn. +To the wilderness preacher, th' Evangelist says, +The soldiers, too, thronged to repent of their ways, +And had themselves christened in former days. +Quid faciemus nos? they said: +Toward Abraham's bosom what path must we tread? +Et ait illis, and, said he, +Neminem concutiatis; +From bother and wrongs leave your neighbors free. +Neque calumniam faciatis; +And deal nor in slander nor lies, d'ye see? +Contenti estote--content ye, pray, +Stipendiis vestris--with your pay-- +And curse forever each evil way. +There is a command--thou shalt not utter +The name of the Lord thy God in vain; +But, where is it men most blasphemies mutter? +Why here, in Duke Friedland's headquarters, 'tie plain +If for every thunder, and every blast, +Which blazing ye from your tongue-points cast, +The bells were but rung, in the country round, +Not a bellman, I ween, would there soon be found; +And if for each and every unholy prayer +Which to vent from your jabbering jaws you dare, +From your noddles were plucked but the smallest hair, +Ev'ry crop would be smoothed ere the sun went down, +Though at morn 'twere as bushy as Absalom's crown. +Now, Joshua, methinks, was a soldier as well-- +By the arm of King David the Philistine fell; +But where do we find it written, I pray, +That they ever blasphemed in this villanous way? +One would think ye need stretch your jaws no more, +To cry, "God help us!" than "Zounds!" to roar. +But, by the liquor that's poured in the cask, we know +With what it will bubble and overflow. +Again, it is written--thou shalt not steal, +And this you follow, i'faith! to the letter, +For open-faced robbery suits ye better. +The gripe of your vulture claws you fix +On all--and your wiles and rascally tricks +Make the gold unhid in our coffers now, +And the calf unsafe while yet in the cow-- +Ye take both the egg and the hen, I vow. +Contenti estote--the preacher said; +Which means--be content with your army bread. +But how should the slaves not from duty swerve? +The mischief begins with the lord they serve, +Just like the members so is the head. +I should like to know who can tell me his creed. + +FIRST YAGER. +Sir priest, 'gainst ourselves rail on as you will-- +Of the general we warn you to breathe no ill. + +CAPUCHIN. +Ne custodias gregem meam! +An Ahab is he, and a Jerobeam, +Who the people from faith's unerring way, +To the worship of idols would turn astray, + +TRUMPETER and RECRUIT. +Let us not hear that again, we pray. + +CAPUCHIN. +Such a Bramarbas, whose iron tooth +Would seize all the strongholds of earth forsooth! +Did he not boast, with ungodly tongue, +That Stralsund must needs to his grasp be wrung, +Though to heaven itself with a chain 'twere strung? + +TRUMPETER. +Will none put a stop to his slanderous bawl? + +CAPUCHIN. +A wizard he is!--and a sorcerer Saul!-- +Holofernes!--a Jehu!--denying, we know, +Like St. Peter, his Master and Lord below; +And hence must he quail when the cock doth crow-- + +BOTH YAGERS. +Now, parson, prepare; for thy doom is nigh. + +CAPUCHIN. +A fox more cunning than Herod, I trow-- + +TRUMPETER and both YAGERS (pressing against him). +Silence, again,--if thou wouldst not die! + +CROATS (interfering.) +Stick to it, father; we'll shield you, ne'er fear; +The close of your preachment now let's hear. + +CAPUCHIN (still louder). +A Nebuchadnezzar in towering pride! +And a vile and heretic sinner beside! +He calls himself rightly the stone of a wall; +For faith! he's a stumbling-stone to us all. +And ne'er can the emperor have peace indeed, +Till of Friedland himself the land is freed. + + [During the last passages which he pronounces in an elevated + voice, he has been gradually retreating, the Croats keeping + the other soldiers off. + + + + SCENE IX. + + The above, without the Capuchin. + +FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant). + +But, tell us, what meant he about chanticleer; +Whose crowing the general dares to hear? +No doubt it was uttered in spite and scorn. + +SERGEANT. +Listen--'Tis not so untrue as it appears; +For Friedland was rather mysteriously born, +And is 'specially troubled with ticklish ears; +He can never suffer the mew of a cat; +And when the cock crows he starts thereat. + +FIRST YAGER. +He's one and the same with the lion in that. + +SERGEANT. +Mouse-still must all around him creep, +Strict watch in this the sentinels keep, +For he ponders on matters most grave and deep. + [Voices in the tent. A tumult. +Seize the rascal! Lay on! lay on! + +PEASANT'S VOICE. +Help!--mercy--help! + +OTHERS. + Peace! peace! begone! + +FIRST YAGER. +Deuce take me, but yonder the swords are out! + +SECOND YAGER. +Then I must be off, and see what 'tis about. + + [Yagers enter the tent. + +SUTLER-WOMAN (comes forward). +A scandalous villain!--a scurvy thief! + +TRUMPETER. +Good hostess, the cause of this clamorous grief? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +A cut-purse! a scoundrel! the-villain I call. +That the like in my tent should ever befall! +I'm disgraced and undone with the officers all. + +SERGEANT. +Well, coz, what is it? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. + Why, what should it be? +But a peasant they've taken just now with me-- +A rogue with false dice, to favor his play. + +TRUMPETER. +See I they're bringing the boor and his son this way. + + + + SCENE X. + + Soldiers dragging in the peasant, bound. + +FIRST YAGER. +He must hang! + +SHARPSHOOTERS and DRAGOONS. + To the provost, come on! + +SERGEANT. +'Tis the latest order that forth has gone. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +In an hour I hope to behold him swinging! + +SERGEANT. +Bad work bad wages will needs be bringing. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (to the others). +This comes of their desperation. We +First ruin them out and out, d'ye see; +Which tempts them to steal, as it seems to me. + +TRUMPETER. +How now! the rascal's cause would you plead? +The cur! the devil is in you indeed! + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +The boor is a man--as a body may say. + +FIRST YAGER (to the Trumpeter). +Let 'em go! they're of Tiefenbach's corps, the railers, +A glorious train of glovers and tailors! +At Brieg, in garrison, long they lay; +What should they know about camps, I pray? + + + + SCENE XI. + + The above.--Cuirassiers. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Peace! what's amiss with the boor, may I crave? + +FIRST SHARPSHOOTER. +He has cheated at play, the cozening knave! + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +But say, has he cheated you, man, of aught? + +FIRST SHARPHOOTER. +Just cleaned me out--and not left me a groat. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +And can you, who've the rank of a Friedland man, +So shamefully cast yourself away, +As to try your luck with the boor at play? +Let him run off, so that run he can. + + [The peasant escapes, the others throng together. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +He makes short work--is of resolute mood-- +And that with such fellows as these is good. +Who is he? not of Bohemia, that's clear. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +He's a Walloon--and respect, I trow, +Is due to the Pappenheim cuirassier! + +FIRST DRAGOON (joining). +Young Piccolomini leads them now, +Whom they chose as colonel, of their own free might, +When Pappenheim fell in Luetzen's fight. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Durst they, indeed, presume so far? + +FIRST DRAGOON. +This regiment is something above the rest. +It has ever been foremost through the war, +And may manage its laws, as it pleases best; +Besides, 'tis by Friedland himself caressed. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER (to the Second.) +Is't so in truth, man? Who averred it? + +SECOND CUIRASSIER. +From the lips of the colonel himself I heard it. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +The devil! we're not their dogs, I weep! + +FIRST YAGER. +How now, what's wrong? You're swollen with spleen! + +SECOND YAGER. +Is it anything, comrades, may us concern? + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +'Tis what none need be wondrous glad to learn. + + The Soldiers press round him. + +To the Netherlands they would lend us now-- +Cuirassiers, Yagers, and Shooters away, +Eight thousand in all must march, they say. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +What! What! again the old wandering way-- +I got back from Flanders but yesterday! + +SECOND CUIRASSIER (to the Dragoons). +You of Butler's corps must tramp with the rest. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +And we, the Walloons, must doubtless be gone. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Why, of all our squadrons these are the best. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +To march where that Milanese fellow leads on. + +FIRST YAGER. +The infant? that's queer enough in its way. + +SECOND YAGER. +The priest--then, egad! there's the devil to pay. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Shall we then leave the Friedlander's train, +Who so nobly his soldiers doth entertain-- +And drag to the field with this fellow from Spain! +A niggard whom we in our souls disdain! +That'll never go down--I'm off, I swear. + +TRUMPETER. +Why, what the devil should we do there? +We sold our blood to the emperor--ne'er +For this Spanish red hat a drop we'll spare! + +SECOND YAGER. +On the Friedlander's word and credit alone +We ranged ourselves in the trooper line, +And, but for our love to Wallenstein, +Ferdinand ne'er had our service known. + +FIRST DRAGOON. +Was it not Friedland that formed our force? +His fortune shall still be the star of our course. + +SERGEANT. +Silence, good comrades, to me give ear-- +Talking does little to help us here. +Much farther in this I can see than you all, +And a trap has been laid in which we're to fall; + +FIRST YAGER. +List to the order-book! hush--be still! + +SERGEANT. +But first, Cousin Gustel, I pray thee fill +A glass of Melneck, as my stomach's but weak +When I've tossed it off, my mind I'll speak. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Take it, good sergeant. I quake for fear-- +Think you that mischief is hidden here? + +SERGEANT. +Look ye, my friends, 'tis fit and clear +That each should consider what's most near. +But as the general says, say I, +One should always the whole of a case descry. +We call ourselves all the Friedlander's troops; +The burgher, on whom we're billeted, stoops +Our wants to supply, and cooks our soups. +His ox, or his horse, the peasant must chain +To our baggage-car, and may grumble in vain. +Just let a lance-corp'ral, with seven good men, +Tow'rd a village from far but come within ken, +You're sure he'll be prince of the place, and may +Cut what capers he will, with unquestioned sway. +Why, zounds! lads, they heartily hate us all-- +And would rather the devil should give them a call, +Than our yellow collars. And why don't they fall +On us fairly at once and get rid of our lumber? +They're more than our match in point of number, +And carry the cudgel as we do the sword. +Why can we laugh them to scorn? By my word +Because we make up here a terrible horde. + +FIRST YAGER. +Ay, ay, in the mass lies the spell of our might, +And the Friedlander judged the matter aright, +When, some eight or nine years ago, he brought +The emperor's army together. They thought +Twelve thousand enough for the general. In vain, +Said he, such a force I can never maintain. +Sixty thousand I'll bring ye into the plain, +And they, I'll be sworn, won't of hunger die, +And thus were we Wallenstein's men, say I. + +SERGEANT. +For example, cut one of my fingers off, +This little one here from my right hand doff. +Is the taking my finger then all you've done? +No, no, to the devil my hand is gone! +'Tis a stump--no more--and use has none. +The eight thousand horse they wish to disband +May be but a finger of our army's hand. +But when they're once gone may we understand +We are but one-fifth the less? Oh, no-- +By the Lord, the whole to the devil will go! +All terror, respect, and awe will be over, +And the peasant will swell his crest once more; +And the Board of Vienna will order us where +Our troops must be quartered and how we must fare, +As of old in the days of their beggarly care. +Yes, and how long it will be who can say +Ere the general himself they may take away? +For they don't much like him at court I learn? +And then it's all up with the whole concern! +For who, to our pay, will be left to aid us? +And see that they keep the promise they made us? +Who has the energy--who the mind-- +The flashing thought--and the fearless hand-- +Together to bring, and thus fastly bind +The fragments that form our close-knit band. +For example, dragoon--just answer us now, +From which of the countries of earth art thou? + +DRAGOON. +From distant Erin came I here. + +SERGEANT (to the two Cuirassiers). +You're a Walloon, my friend, that's clear, +And you, an Italian, as all may hear. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Who I may be, faith! I never could say; +In my infant years they stole me away. + +SERGEANT. +And you, from what far land may you be? + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +I come from Buchau--on the Feder Sea. + +SERGEANT. +Neighbor, and you? + +SECOND ARQUEBUSIER. + I am a Swiss. + +SERGEANT (to the second Yager). +And Yager, let's hear where your country is? + +SECOND YAGER. +Up above Wismar my fathers dwell. + +SERGEANT (pointing to the Trumpeter). +And he's from Eger--and I as well: +And now, my comrades, I ask you whether, +Would any one think, when looking at us, +That we, from the North and South, had thus +Been hitherward drifted and blown together? +Do we not seem as hewn from one mass? +Stand we not close against the foe +As though we were glued or moulded so? +Like mill-work don't we move, d'ye think! +'Mong ourselves in the nick, at a word or wink. +Who has thus cast us here all as one, +Now to be severed again by none? +Who? why, no other than Wallenstein! + +FIRST YAGER. +In my life it ne'er was a thought of mine +Whether we suited each other or not, +I let myself go with the rest of the lot. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +I quite agree in the sergeant's opinion-- +They'd fain have an end of our camp dominion, +And trample the soldier down, that they +May govern alone in their own good way. +'Tis a conspiration--a plot, I say! + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +A conspiration--God help the day! +Then my customers won't have cash to pay. + +SERGEANT. +Why, faith, we shall all be bankrupts made; +The captains and generals, most of them, paid +The costs of the regiments with private cash, +And, wishing, 'bove all, to cut a dash, +Went a little beyond their means--but thought, +No doubt, that they thus had a bargain bought. +Now they'll be cheated, sirs, one and all, +Should our chief, our head, the general fall. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Oh, Heaven! this curse I never can brook +Why, half of the army stand in my book. +Two hundred dollars I've trusted madly +That Count Isolani who pays so badly. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Well, comrades, let's fix on what's to be done-- +Of the ways to save us, I see but one; +If we hold together we need not fear; +So let us stand out as one man here; +And then they may order and send as they will, +Fast planted we'll stick in Bohemia still. +We'll never give in--no, nor march an inch, +We stand on our honor, and must not flinch. + +SECOND YAGER. +We're not to be driven the country about, +Let 'em come here, and they'll find it out. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Good sirs, 'twere well to bethink ye still, +That such is the emperor's sovereign will. + +TRUMPETER. +Oh, as to the emperor, we needn't be nice. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Let me not hear you say so twice. + +TRUMPETER. +Why, 'tis even so--as I just have said. + +FIRST YAGER. +True, man--I've always heard 'em say, +'Tis Friedland, alone, you've here to obey. + +SERGEANT. +By our bargain with him it should be so, +Absolute power is his, you must know, +We've war, or peace, but as he may please, +Or gold or goods he has power to seize, +And hanging or pardon his will decrees. +Captains and colonels he makes--and he, +In short, by the imperial seal is free, +To hold all the marks of sovereignty. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +The duke is high and of mighty will, +But yet must remain, for good or for ill, +Like us all, but the emperor's servant still. + +SERGEANT. +Not like us all--I there disagree-- +Friedland is quite independent and free, +The Bavarian is no more a prince than he +For, was I not by myself to see, +When on duty at Brandeis, how the emperor said, +He wished him to cover his princely head. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +That was because of the Mecklenburgh land, +Which he held in pawn from the emperor's hand. + +FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant). +In the emperor's presence, man! say you so? +That, beyond doubt, was a wonderful go! + +SERGEANT (feels in his pocket). +If you question my word in what I have told, +I can give you something to grasp and hold. + [Showing a coin. +Whose image and stamp d'ye here behold? + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Oh! that is a Wallenstein's, sure! + +SERGEANT-MAJOR. +Well, there, you have it--what doubt can rest +Is he not prince, just as good as the best? +Coins he not money like Ferdinand? +Hath he not his own subjects and land? +Is he not called your highness, I pray? +And why should he not have his soldiers in? + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +That no one has ever meant to gainsay; +But we're still at the emperor's beck and call, +For his majesty 'tis who pays us all. + +TRUMPETER. +In your teeth I deny it--and will again-- +His majesty 'tis who pays us not, +For this forty weeks, say, what have we got +But a promise to pay, believed in vain? + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +What then! 'tis kept in safe hands, I suppose. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Peace, good sirs, will you come to blows? +Have you a quarrel and squabble to know +If the emperor be our master or no? +'Tis because of our rank, as his soldiers brave, +That we scorn the lot of the herded slave; +And will not be driven from place to place, +As priest or puppies our path may trace. +And, tell me, is't not the sovereign's gain, +If the soldiers their dignity will maintain? +Who but his soldiers give him the state +Of a mighty, wide-ruling potentate? +Make and preserve for him, far and near, +The voice which Christendom quakes to hear? +Well enough they may his yoke-chain bear, +Who feast on his favors, and daily share, +In golden chambers, his sumptuous fare. +We--we of his splendors have no part, +Naught but hard wearying toil and care, +And the pride that lives in a soldier's heart. + +SECOND YAGER. +All great tyrants and kings have shown +Their wit, as I take it, in what they've done; +They've trampled all others with stern command, +But the soldier they've led with a gentle hand. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +The soldier his worth must understand; +Whoe'er doesn't nobly drive the trade, +'Twere best from the business far he'd stayed. +If I cheerily set my life on a throw, +Something still better than life I'll know; +Or I'll stand to be slain for the paltry pelf, +As the Croat still does--and scorn myself. + +BOTH PAGERS. +Yes--honor is dearer than life itself. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +The sword is no plough, nor delving tool, +He, who would till with it, is but a fool. +For us, neither grass nor grain doth grow, +Houseless the soldier is doomed to go, +A changeful wanderer over the earth, +Ne'er knowing the warmth of a home-lit hearth. +The city glances--he halts--not there-- +Nor in village meadows, so green and fair; +The vintage and harvest wreath are twined +He sees, but must leave them far behind. +Then, tell me, what hath the soldier left, +If he's once of his self-esteem bereft? +Something he must have his own to call, +Or on slaughter and burnings at once he'll fall. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +God knows, 'tis a wretched life to live! + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Yet one, which I, for no other would give, +Look ye--far round in the world I've been, +And all of its different service seen. +The Venetian Republic--the Kings of Spain +And Naples I've served, and served in vain. +Fortune still frowned--and merchant and knight, +Craftsmen and Jesuit, have met my sight; +Yet, of all their jackets, not one have I known +To please me like this steel coat of my own. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Well--that now is what I can scarcely say. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +In the world, a man who would make his way, +Must plague and bestir himself night and day. +To honor and place if he choose the road, +He must bend his back to the golden load. +And if home-delights should his fancy please, +With children and grandchildren round his knees, +Let him follow an honest trade in peace. +I've no taste for this kind of life--not I! +Free will I live, and as freely die. +No man's spoiler nor heir will I be-- +But, throned on my nag, I will smile to see +The coil of the crowd that is under me. + +FIRST YAGER. +Bravo!--that's as I've always done. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +In truth, sirs, it may be far better fun +To trample thus over your neighbor's crown. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Comrade, the times are bad of late-- +The sword and the scales live separate. +But do not then blame that I've preferred, +Of the two, to lean, as I have, to the sword. +For mercy in war I will yield to none, +Though I never will stoop to be drummed upon. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. +Who but the soldier the blame should bear +That the laboring poor so hardly fare? +The war with its plagues, which all have blasted +Now sixteen years in the land hath lasted. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Why, brother, the blessed God above +Can't have from us all an equal love. +One prays for the sun, at which t'other will fret +One is for dry weather-t'other for wet. +What you, now, regard as with misery rife, +Is to me the unclouded sun of life. +If 'tis at the cost of the burgher and boor, +I really am sorry that they must endure; +But how can I help it? Here, you must know, +'Tis just like a cavalry charge 'gainst the foe: +The steeds loud snorting, and on they go! +Whoever may lie in the mid-career-- +Be it my brother or son so dear, +Should his dying groan my heart divide, +Yet over his body I needs must ride, +Nor pitying stop to drag him aside. + +FIRST YAGER. +True--who ever asks how another may bide? + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Thus, my lads, 'tis my counsel, while +On the soldier Dame Fortune deigns to smile, +That we with both hands her bounty clasp, +For it may not be much longer left to our grasp. +Peace will be coming some over-night, +And then there's an end of our martial might. +The soldier unhorsed, and fresh mounted to boor, +Ere you can think it 'twill be as before. +As yet we're together firm bound in the land, +The hilt is yet fast in the soldier's hand. +But let 'em divide us, and soon we shall find, +Short commons is all that remains behind. + +FIRST YAGER. +No, no, by the Lord! That won't do for me. +Come, come, lads, let's all now, as one, agree. + +SECOND YAGER. +Yes, let us resolve on what 'tis to be. + +FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (To the Sutler-woman, drawing out his leather purse). +Hostess, tell us how high you've scored. + +SUTLER-WOMAN. +Oh, 'tis unworthy a single word. + + [They settle. + +TRUMPETER. +You do well, sirs, to take a further walk, +Your company only disturbs our talk. + + [Exeunt Arquebusiers. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Plague take the fellows--they're brave, I know. + +FIRST YAGER. +They haven't a soul 'bove a soapboiler's, though. + +SECOND YAGER. +We're now alone, so teach us who can +How best we may meet and mar their plan. + +TRUMPETER. +How? Why, let's tell them we will not go! + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Despising all discipline! No, my lads, no, +Rather his corps let each of us seek, +And quietly then with his comrades speak, +That every soldier may clearly know, +It were not for his good so far to go; +For my Walloons to answer I'm free, +Every man of 'em thinks and acts with me. + +SERGEANT. +The Terzky regiments, both horse and foot, +Will thus resolve, and will keep them to't. + +SECOND CUIRASSIER (joining the first). +The Walloons and the Lombards one intent. + +FIRST YAGER. +Freedom is Yagers' own element. + +SECOND YAGER. +Freedom must ever with might entwine-- +I live and will die by Wallenstein. + +FIRST SHARPSHOOTER. +The Lorrainers go on with the strongest tide, +Where spirits are light and courage tried. + +DRAGOON. +An Irishman follows his fortune's star. + +SECOND SHARPSHOOTER. +The Tyrolese for their sovereign war. + +FIRST CUIRASSIER. +Then, comrades, let each of our corps agree +A pro memoria to sign--that we, +In spite of all force or fraud, will be +To the fortunes of Friedland firmly bound, +For in him is the soldier's father found. +This we will humbly present, when done, +To Piccolomini--I mean the son-- +Who understands these kind of affairs, +And the Friedlander's highest favor shares; +Besides, with the emperor's self, they say +He holds a capital card to play. + +SECOND YAGER. +Well, then, in this, let us all agree, +That the colonel shall our spokesman be! + +ALL (going). +Good! the colonel shall our spokesman be. + +SERGEANT. +Hold, sirs--just toss off a glass with me +To the health of Piccolomini. + +SUTLER-WOMAN (brings a flask). +This shall not go to the list of scores, +I gladly give it--success be yours! + +CUIRASSIER. +The soldier shall sway! + +BOTH YAGERS. + The peasant shall pay + +DRAGOONS and SHARPSHOOTERS. +The army shall flourishing stand! + +TRUMPETER and SERGEANT. +And the Friedlander keep the command! + +SECOND CUIRASSIER (sings). + + Arouse ye, my comrades, to horse! to horse! + To the field and to freedom we guide! + For there a man feels the pride of his force + And there is the heart of him tried. + No help to him there by another is shown, + He stands for himself and himself alone. + +[The soldiers from the background have come forward during the singing +of this verse and form the chorus. + +CHORUS. + + No help to him by another is shown, + He stands for himself and himself alone. + +DRAGOON. + + Now freedom hath fled from the world, we find + But lords and their bondsmen vile + And nothing holds sway in the breast of mankind + Save falsehood and cowardly guile. + Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow, + The soldier, alone, is the freeman now. + +CHORUS. + + Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow, + The soldier, alone, is the freeman now. + +FIRST YAGER. + + With the troubles of life he ne'er bothers his pate, + And feels neither fear nor sorrow; + But boldly rides onward to meet with his fate-- + He may meet it to-day, or to-morrow! + And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say, + Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day! + +CHORUS. + + And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say, + Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day! + +[The glasses are here refilled, and all drink. + +SERGEANT. + + 'Tis from heaven his jovial lot has birth; + Nor needs he to strive or toil. + The peasant may grope in the bowels of earth, + And for treasure may greedily moil + He digs and he delves through life for the pelf, + And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself. + +CHORUS. + + He digs and he delves through life for the pelf, + And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself. + +FIRST YAGER. + + The rider and lightning steed--a pair + Of terrible guests, I ween! + From the bridal-hall, as the torches glare, + Unbidden they join the scene; + Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove; + By storm he carries the prize of love! + +CHORUS. + + Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove; + By storm he carries the prize of love! + +SECOND CUIRASSIER. + + Why mourns the wench with so sorrowful face? + Away, girl, the soldier must go! + No spot on the earth is his resting-place; + And your true love he never can know. + Still onward driven by fate's rude wind, + He nowhere may leave his peace behind. + +CHORUS. + + Still onward driven by fate's rude wind, + He nowhere may leave his peace behind. + +FIRST YAGER. +He takes the two next to him by the hand--the others do the same--and +form a large semi-circle. + + Then rouse ye, my comrades--to horse! to horse! + In battle the breast doth swell! + Youth boils--the life-cup foams in its force-- + Up! ere time can dew dispel! + And deep be the stake, as the prize is high-- + Who life would win, he must dare to die! + +CHORUS. + + And deep be the stake, as the prize is high-- + Who life would win, he must dare to die! + + [The curtain falls before the chorus has finished. + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALLENSTEIN'S CAMP, BY SCHILLER *** + +********** This file should be named fs25w10.txt or fs25w10.zip ********** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, fs25w11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, fs25w10a.txt + +This eBook was produced by Tapio Riikonen +and David Widger, widger@cecomet.net + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + + + + + + diff --git a/old/fs25w10.zip b/old/fs25w10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6008761 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/fs25w10.zip diff --git a/old/fs25w10h.html b/old/fs25w10h.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3474126 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/fs25w10h.html @@ -0,0 +1,2302 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {color:brown} +blockquote {font-size:"14pt"} +P {font-size:"16pt"} +--> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + + +<h2>THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN, (A Play) By Frederich Schiller</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook The Camp of Wallenstein, by Schiller + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: The Camp of Wallenstein + +Author: Frederich Schiller + +Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6785] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on January 21, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALLENSTEIN'S CAMP, BY SCHILLER *** + + + +This eBook was produced by Tapio Riikonen +and David Widger, [widger@cecomet.net] + + + + + + +</pre> + +<br> +<hr> +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + + + +<center> +<h1> + THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN</h1> +<br><br> +<h2>By Frederich Schiller</h2> +<br><br> +<h3> Translated by James Churchill.</h3></center> +<br><br><br><br> +<p> +The Camp of Wallenstein is an introduction to the celebrated tragedy of +that name; and, by its vivid portraiture of the state of the general's +army, gives the best clue to the spell of his gigantic power. The blind +belief entertained in the unfailing success of his arms, and in the +supernatural agencies by which that success is secured to him; the +unrestrained indulgence of every passion, and utter disregard of all law, +save that of the camp; a hard oppression of the peasantry and plunder of +the country, have all swollen the soldiery with an idea of interminable +sway. But as we have translated the whole, we shall leave these reckless +marauders to speak for themselves.</p> + +<p>Of Schiller's opinion concerning the Camp, as a necessary introduction to +the tragedy, the following passage taken from the prologue to the first +representation, will give a just idea, and may also serve as a motto to +the work:--</p> + +<p> "Not he it is, who on the tragic scene + Will now appear--but in the fearless bands + Whom his command alone could sway, and whom + His spirit fired, you may his shadow see, + Until the bashful Muse shall dare to bring + Himself before you in a living form; + For power it was that bore his heart astray + His Camp, alone, elucidates his crime."</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN.</h2></center> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h3> DRAMATIS PERSONAE.</h3> + +<p> Sergeant-Major of Terzky's carabineers. <br> + Trumpeter of Terzky's carabineers. <br> + Artilleryman, <br> + Sharpshooters. + Mounted Yagers, of Holk's corps. <br> + Dragoons, of Butler's regiment. <br> + Arquebusiers, of Tiefenbach's regiment. <br> + Cuirassier, of a Walloon regiment. <br> + Cuirassier, of a Lombard regiment. <br> + Croats. <br> + Hulans.<br> + Recruit.<br> + Citizen.<br> + Peasant.<br> +Peasant Boy.<br> +Capuchin.<br> +Regimental Schoolmaster.<br> +Sutler-Woman.<br> +Servant Girl.<br> +Soldiers' Boys.<br> + Musicians.<br> +</p> + +<br> +<br> +<p> (SCENE.--The Camp before Pilsen, in Bohemia.)</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE I.</p> +<br> +<p> Sutlers' tents--in front, a Slop-shop. Soldiers of all colors and<br> + uniforms thronging about. Tables all filled. Croats and Hulans<br> + cooking at a fire. Sutler-woman serving out wine. Soldier-boys<br> + throwing dice on a drum-head. Singing heard from the tent.</p> +<br> +<p> Enter a Peasant and his Son.</p> +<br> +<p>SON.<br> +Father, I fear it will come to harm,<br> +So let us be off from this soldier swarm;<br> +But boist'rous mates will ye find in the shoal--<br> +'Twere better to bolt while our skins are whole.</p> +<br> +<p>FATHER.<br> +How now, boy! the fellows wont eat us, though<br> +They may be a little unruly, or so.<br> +See, yonder, arriving a stranger train,<br> +Fresh comers are they from the Saal and Mayne;<br> +Much booty they bring of the rarest sort--<br> +'Tis ours, if we cleverly drive our sport.<br> +A captain, who fell by his comrade's sword,<br> +This pair of sure dice to me transferred;<br> +To-day I'll just give them a trial to see<br> +If their knack's as good as it used to be.<br> +You must play the part of a pitiful devil,<br> +For these roaring rogues, who so loosely revel,<br> +Are easily smoothed, and tricked, and flattered,<br> +And, free as it came, their gold is scattered.<br> +But we--since by bushels our all is taken,<br> +By spoonfuls must ladle it back again;<br> +And, if with their swords they slash so highly,<br> +We must look sharp, boy, and do them slyly.</p> +<br> +<p> [Singing and shouting in the tent.</p> +<br> +<p>Hark, how they shout! God help the day!<br> +'Tis the peasant's hide for their sport must pay.<br> +Eight months in our beds and stalls have they<br> +Been swarming here, until far around<br> +Not a bird or a beast is longer found,<br> +And the peasant, to quiet his craving maw,<br> +Has nothing now left but his bones to gnaw.<br> +Ne'er were we crushed with a heavier hand,<br> +When the Saxon was lording it o'er the land:<br> +And these are the Emperor's troops, they say!</p> +<br> +<p>SON.<br> +From the kitchen a couple are coming this way,<br> +Not much shall we make by such blades as they.</p> +<br> +<p>FATHER.<br> +They're born Bohemian knaves--the two--<br> +Belonging to Terzky's carabineers,<br> +Who've lain in these quarters now for years;<br> +The worst are they of the worthless crew.<br> +Strutting, swaggering, proud and vain,<br> +They seem to think they may well disdain<br> +With the peasant a glass of his wine to drain<br> +But, soft--to the left o' the fire I see<br> +Three riflemen, who from the Tyrol should be<br> +Emmerick, come, boy, to them will we.<br> +Birds of this feather 'tis luck to find,<br> +Whose trim's so spruce, and their purse well lined.</p> +<br> +<p> [They move towards the tent.</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE II.</p> +<br> +<p> The above--Sergeant-Major, Trumpeter, Hulan.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +What would the boor? Out, rascal, away!</p> +<br> +<p>PEASANT.<br> +Some victuals and drink, worthy masters, I pray,<br> +For not a warm morsel we've tasted to day.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Ay, guzzle and guttle--'tis always the way.</p> +<br> +<p>HULAN (with a glass).<br> +Not broken your fast! there--drink, ye hound!</p> +<br> +<p> He leads the peasant to the tent--the others come forward.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT (to the Trumpeter).<br> +Think ye they've done it without good ground?<br> +Is it likely they double our pay to-day,<br> +Merely that we may be jolly and gay?</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Why, the duchess arrives to-day, we know,<br> +And her daughter too--</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> + Tush! that's mere show--<br> +'Tis the troops collected from other lands<br> +Who here at Pilsen have joined our bands--<br> +We must do the best we can t' allure 'em,<br> +With plentiful rations, and thus secure 'em.<br> +Where such abundant fare they find,<br> +A closer league with us to bind.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Yes!--there's something in the wind.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +The generals and commanders too--</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +A rather ominous sight, 'tis true.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Who're met together so thickly here--</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Have plenty of work on their hands, that's clear.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +The whispering and sending to and fro--</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Ay! Ay!</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +The big-wig from Vienna, I trow,<br> +Who since yesterday's seen to prowl about<br> +In his golden chain of office there--<br> +Something's at the bottom of this, I'll swear.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +A bloodhound is he beyond a doubt,<br> +By whom the duke's to be hunted out.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Mark ye well, man!--they doubt us now,<br> +And they fear the duke's mysterious brow;<br> +He hath clomb too high for them, and fain<br> +Would they beat him down from his perch again.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +But we will hold him still on high--<br> +That all would think as you and I!</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Our regiment, and the other four<br> +Which Terzky leads--the bravest corps<br> +Throughout the camp, are the General's own,<br> +And have been trained to the trade by himself alone<br> +The officers hold their command of him,<br> +And are all his own, or for life or limb.</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE III.</p> +<br> +<p> Enter Croat with a necklace. Sharpshooter following him.<br> + The above.</p> +<br> +<p>SHARPSHOOTER.<br> +Croat, where stole you that necklace, say?<br> +Get rid of it man--for thee 'tis unmeet:<br> +Come, take these pistols in change, I pray.</p> +<br> +<p>CROAT.<br> +Nay, nay, Master Shooter, you're trying to cheat.</p> +<br> +<p>SHARPSHOOTER.<br> +Then I'll give you this fine blue cap as well,<br> +A lottery prize which just I've won:<br> +Look at the cut of it--quite the swell!</p> +<br> +<p>CROAT (twirling the Necklace in the Sun).<br> +But this is of pearls and of garnets bright,<br> +See, how it plays in the sunny light!</p> +<br> +<p>SHARPSHOOTER (taking the Necklace).<br> +Well, I'll give you to boot, my own canteen--<br> +I'm in love with this bauble's beautiful sheen.<br> + [Looks at it.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +See, now!--how cleanly the Croat is done<br> +Snacks! Master Shooter, and mum's the word.</p> +<br> +<p>CROAT (having put on the cap).<br> +I think your cap is a smartish one.</p> +<br> +<p>SHARPSHOOTER (winking to the Trumpeter).<br> +'Tis a regular swop, as these gents have heard.</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE IV.</p> +<br> +<p> The above. An Artilleryman.</p> +<br> +<p>ARTILLERYMAN (to the Sergeant).<br> +How is this I pray, brother carabineer?<br> +Shall we longer stay here, our fingers warming,<br> +While the foe in the field around is swarming?</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Art thou, indeed, in such hasty fret?<br> +Why the roads, as I think, are scarce passable yet.</p> +<br> +<p>ARTILLERYMAN.<br> +For me they are not--I'm snug enough here--<br> +But a courier's come, our wits to waken<br> +With the precious news that Ratisbon's taken.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Ha! then we soon shall have work in hand.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Indeed! to protect the Bavarian's land,<br> +Who hates the duke, as we understand,<br> +We won't put ourselves in a violent sweat.</p> +<br> +<p>ARTILLERYMAN.<br> +Heyday!--you'll find you're a wiseacre yet.</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE V.</p> +<br> +<p> The above--Two Yagers. Afterwards Sutler-woman,<br> + Soldier-boy, Schoolmaster, Servant-girl.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> + See! see!<br> +Here meet we a jovial company!</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Who can these greencoats be, I wonder,<br> +That strut so gay and sprucely yonder!</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +They're the Yagers of Holk--and the lace they wear,<br> +I'll be sworn, was ne'er purchased at Leipzig fair.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN (bringing wine).<br> +Welcome, good sirs!</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> + Zounds, how now?<br> +Gustel of Blasewitz here, I vow!</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +The same in sooth--and you I know,<br> +Are the lanky Peter of Itzeho:<br> +Who at Glueckstadt once, in revelling night,<br> +With the wags of our regiment, put to flight<br> +All his father's shiners--then crowned the fun--</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +By changing his pen for a rifle-gun.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +We're old acquaintance, then, 'tis clear.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +And to think we should meet in Bohemia here!</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +Oh, here to-day--to-morrow yonder--<br> +As the rude war-broom, in restless trace,<br> +Scatters and sweeps us from place to place.<br> +Meanwhile I've been doomed far round to wander.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +So one would think, by the look of your face.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +Up the country I've rambled to Temsewar,<br> +Whither I went with the baggage-car,<br> +When Mansfeld before us we chased away;<br> +With the duke near Stralsund next we lay,<br> +Where trade went all to pot, I may say.<br> +I jogged with the succors to Mantua;<br> +And back again came, under Feria:<br> +Then, joining a Spanish regiment,<br> +I took a short cut across to Ghent;<br> +And now to Bohemia I'm come to get<br> +Old scores paid off, that are standing yet,<br> +If a helping hand by the duke be lent--<br> +And yonder you see my sutler's tent.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Well, all things seem in a flourishing way,<br> +But what have you done with the Scotchman, say,<br> +Who once in the camp was your constant flame?</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +A villain, who tricked me clean, that same<br> +He bolted, and took to himself whate'er<br> +I'd managed to scrape together, or spare,<br> +Leaving me naught but the urchin there.</p> +<br> +<p>SOLDIER-BOY (springing forward).<br> +Mother, is it my papa you name?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Well, the emperor now must father this elf,<br> +For the army must ever recruit itself.</p> +<br> +<p>SCHOOLMASTER.<br> +Forth to the school, ye rogue--d'ye hear?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +He, too, of a narrow room has fear.</p> +<br> +<p>SERVANT GIRL (entering).<br> +Aunt, they'll be off.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> + I come apace.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +What gypsy is that with the roguish face?</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +My sister's child from the south, is she.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Ay, ay, a sweet little niece--I see.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER (holding the girl).<br> +Softly, my pretty one! stay with me.</p> +<br> +<p>GIRL.<br> +The customers wait, sir, and I must go.<br> + [Disengages herself, and exit.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +That maiden's a dainty morsel, I trow!<br> +And her aunt--by heaven! I mind me well,--<br> +When the best of the regiment loved her so,<br> +To blows for her beautiful face they fell.<br> +What different folks one's doomed to know!<br> +How time glows off with a ceaseless flow!<br> +And what sights as yet we may live to see!<br> + (To the Sergeant and Trumpeter.)<br> +Your health, good sirs, may we be free,<br> +A seat beside you here to take?</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE VI.</p> +<br> +<p> The Yagers, Sergeant, and Trumpeter.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +We thank ye--and room will gladly make.<br> +To Bohemia welcome.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> + Snug enough here!<br> +In the land of the foe our quarters were queer.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +You haven't the look on't--you're spruce to view.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Ay, faith, on the Saal, and in Meissen, too,<br> +Your praises are heard from the lips of few.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Tush, man! why, what the plague d'ye mean?<br> +The Croat had swept the fields so clean,<br> +There was little or nothing for us to glean.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Yet your pointed collar is clean and sightly,<br> +And, then, your hose that sit so tightly!<br> +Your linen so fine, with the hat and feather,<br> +Make a show of smartness altogether!<br> + (To Sergeant.)<br> +That fortune should upon younkers shine--<br> +While nothing in your way comes, or mine.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +But then we're the Friedlander's regiment<br> +And, thus, may honor and homage claim.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +For us, now, that's no great compliment,<br> +We, also, bear the Friedlander's name.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +True--you form part of the general mass.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +And you, I suppose, are a separate class!<br> +The difference lies in the coats we wear,<br> +And I have no wish to change with you there.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Sir Yager, I can't but with pity melt,<br> +When I think how much among boors you've dwelt.<br> +The clever knack and the proper tone,<br> +Are caught by the general's side alone.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Then the lesson is wofully thrown away,--<br> +How he hawks and spits, indeed, I may say<br> +You've copied and caught in the cleverest way;<br> +But his spirit, his genius--oh, these I ween,<br> +On your guard parade are but seldom seen.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Why, zounds! ask for us wherever you will,<br> +Friedland's wild hunt is our title still!<br> +Never shaming the name, all undaunted we go<br> +Alike through the field of a friend, or a foe;<br> +Through the rising stalk, or the yellow corn,<br> +Well know they the blast of Holk's Yager horn.<br> +In the flash of an eye, we are far or near,<br> +Swift as the deluge, or there or here--<br> +As at midnight dark, when the flames outbreak<br> +In the silent dwelling where none awake;<br> +Vain is the hope in weapons or flight,<br> +Nor order nor discipline thwart its might.<br> +Then struggles the maid in our sinewy arms,<br> +But war hath no pity, and scorns alarms.<br> +Go, ask--I speak not with boastful tongue--<br> +In Bareuth, Westphalia, Voigtland, where'er<br> +Our troops have traversed--go, ask them there--<br> +Children and children's children long,<br> +When hundreds and hundreds of years are o'er,<br> +Of Holk will tell and his Yager corps.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Why, hark! Must a soldier then be made<br> +By driving this riotous, roaring trade!<br> +'Tis drilling that makes him, skill and sense--<br> +Perception--thought--intelligence.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +'Tis liberty makes him! Here's a fuss!<br> +That I should such twaddle as this discuss.<br> +Was it for this that I left the school?<br> +That the scribbling desk, and the slavish rule,<br> +And the narrow walls, that our spirits cramp,<br> +Should be met with again in the midst of the camp?<br> +No! Idle and heedless, I'll take my way,<br> +Hunting for novelty every day;<br> +Trust to the moment with dauntless mind,<br> +And give not a glance or before or behind.<br> +For this to the emperor I sold my hide,<br> +That no other care I might have to bide.<br> +Through the foe's fierce firing bid me ride,<br> +Through fathomless Rhine, in his roaring flow,<br> +Where ev'ry third man to the devil may go,<br> +At no bar will you find me boggling there;<br> +But, farther than this, 'tis my special prayer,<br> +That I may not be bothered with aught like care.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +If this be your wish, you needn't lack it,<br> +'Tis granted to all with the soldier's jacket.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +What a fuss and a bother, forsooth, was made<br> +By that man-tormentor, Gustavus, the Swede,<br> +Whose camp was a church, where prayers were said<br> +At morning reveille and evening tattoo;<br> +And, whenever it chanced that we frisky grew,<br> +A sermon himself from the saddle he'd read.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Ay, that was a man with the fear of God.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Girls he detested; and what's rather odd,<br> +If caught with a wench you in wedlock were tacked,--<br> +I could stand it no longer, so off I packed.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Their discipline now has a trifle slacked.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Well, next to the League I rode over; their men<br> +Were mustering in haste against Magdeburg then.<br> +Ha! that was another guess sort of a thing!<br> +In frolic and fun we'd a glorious swing;<br> +With gaming, and drinking, and girls at call,<br> +I'faith, sirs, our sport was by no means small.<br> +For Tilly knew how to command, that's plain;<br> +He held himself in but gave us the rein;<br> +And, long as he hadn't the bother of paying,<br> +"Live and let live!" was the general's saying.<br> +But fortune soon gave him the slip; and ne'er<br> +Since the day of that villanous Leipzig affair<br> +Would aught go aright. 'Twas of little avail<br> +That we tried, for our plans were sure to fail.<br> +If now we drew nigh and rapped at the door,<br> +No greeting awaited, 'twas opened no more;<br> +From place to place we went sneaking about,<br> +And found that their stock of respect was out;<br> +Then touched I the Saxon bounty, and thought<br> +Their service with fortune must needs be fraught.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +You joined them then just in the nick to share<br> +Bohemia's plunder?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> + I'd small luck there.<br> +Strict discipline sternly ruled the day,<br> +Nor dared we a foeman's force display;<br> +They set us to guard the imperial forts,<br> +And plagued us all with the farce of the courts.<br> +War they waged as a jest 'twere thought--<br> +And but half a heart to the business brought,<br> +They would break with none; and thus 'twas plain<br> +Small honor among them could a soldier gain.<br> +So heartily sick in the end grew I<br> +That my mind was the desk again to try;<br> +When suddenly, rattling near and far,<br> +The Friedlander's drum was heard to war.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +And how long here may you mean to stay?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +You jest, man. So long as he bears the sway,<br> +By my soul! not a thought of change have I;<br> +Where better than here could the soldier lie?<br> +Here the true fashion of war is found,<br> +And the cut of power's on all things round;<br> +While the spirit whereby the movement's given<br> +Mightily stirs, like the winds of heaven,<br> +The meanest trooper in all the throng.<br> +With a hearty step shall I tramp along<br> +On a burgher's neck as undaunted tread<br> +As our general does on the prince's head.<br> +As 'twas in the times of old 'tis now,<br> +The sword is the sceptre, and all must bow.<br> +One crime alone can I understand,<br> +And that's to oppose the word of command.<br> +What's not forbidden to do make bold,<br> +And none will ask you what creed you hold.<br> +Of just two things in this world I wot,<br> +What belongs to the army and what does not,<br> +To the banner alone is my service brought.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Thus, Yager, I like thee--thou speakest, I vow,<br> +With the tone of a Friedland trooper now.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +'Tis not as an office he holds command,<br> +Or a power received from the emperor's hand;<br> +For the emperor's service what should he care,<br> +What better for him does the emperor fare?<br> +With the mighty power he wields at will,<br> +Has ever he sheltered the land from ill?<br> +No; a soldier-kingdom he seeks to raise,<br> +And for this would set the world in a blaze,<br> +Daring to risk and to compass all--</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Hush--who shall such words as these let fall?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Whatever I think may be said by me,<br> +For the general tells us the word is free.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +True--that he said so I fully agree,<br> +I was standing by. "The word is free--<br> +The deed is dumb--obedience blind!"<br> +His very words I can call to mind.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +I know not if these were his words or no,<br> +But he said the thing, and 'tis even so.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Victory ne'er will his flag forsake,<br> +Though she's apt from others a turn to take:<br> +Old Tilly outlived his fame's decline,<br> +But under the banner of Wallenstein,<br> +There am I certain that victory's mine!<br> +Fortune is spell-bound to him, and must yield;<br> +Whoe'er under Friedland shall take the field<br> +Is sure of a supernatural shield:<br> +For, as all the world is aware full well,<br> +The duke has a devil in hire from hell.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +In truth that he's charmed is past a doubt,<br> +For we know how, at Luetzen's bloody affair,<br> +Where firing was thickest he still was there,<br> +As coolly as might be, sirs, riding about.<br> +The hat on his head was shot thro' and thro',<br> +In coat and boots the bullets that flew<br> +Left traces full clear to all men's view;<br> +But none got so far as to scratch off his skin,<br> +For the ointment of hell was too well rubbed in.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +What wonders so strange can you all see there?<br> +An elk-skin jacket he happens to wear,<br> +And through it the bullets can make no way.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +'Tis an ointment of witches' herbs, I say,<br> +Kneaded and cooked by unholy spell.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +No doubt 'tis the work of the powers of hell.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +That he reads in the stars we also hear,<br> +Where the future he sees--distant or near--<br> +But I know better the truth of the case<br> +A little gray man, at the dead of night,<br> +Through bolted doors to him will pace--<br> +The sentinels oft have hailed the sight,<br> +And something great was sure to be nigh,<br> +When this little gray-coat had glided by.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Ay, ay, he's sold himself to the devil,<br> +Wherefore, my lads, let's feast and revel.</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE VII.</p> +<br> +<p> The above--Recruit, Citizen, Dragoon.</p> +<br> +<p> (The Recruit advances from the tent, wearing a tin cap<br> + on his head, and carrying a wine-flask.)</p> +<br> +<p>RECRUIT.<br> +To father and uncle pray make my bow,<br> +And bid 'em good-by--I'm a soldier now.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +See, yonder they're bringing us something new,</p> +<br> +<p>CITIZEN.<br> +Oh, Franz, remember, this day you'll rue.</p> +<br> +<p>RECRUIT (sings).<br> + The drum and the fife,<br> + War's rattling throng,<br> + And a wandering life<br> + The world along!<br> + Swift steed--and a hand<br> + To curb and command--<br> + With a blade by the side,<br> + We're off far and wide.<br> + As jolly and free,<br> + As the finch in its glee,<br> + On thicket or tree,<br> + Under heaven's wide hollow--<br> +Hurrah! for the Friedlander's banner I'll follow!</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Foregad! a jolly companion, though.</p> +<br> +<p> [They salute him.</p> +<br> +<p>CITIZEN.<br> +He comes of good kin; now pray let him go.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +And we wern't found in the streets you must know.</p> +<br> +<p>CITIZEN.<br> +I tell you his wealth is a plentiful stock;<br> +Just feel the fine stuff that he wears for a frock.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +The emperor's coat is the best he can wear.</p> +<br> +<p>CITIZEN.<br> +To a cap manufactory he is the heir.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +The will of a man is his fortune alone.</p> +<br> +<p>CITIZEN.<br> +His grandmother's shop will soon be his own.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Pish! traffic in matches! who would do't?</p> +<br> +<p>CITIZEN.<br> +A wine-shop his grandfather leaves, to boot,<br> +A cellar with twenty casks of wine.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +These with his comrades he'll surely share.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Hark ye, lad--be a camp-brother of mine.</p> +<br> +<p>CITIZEN.<br> +A bride he leaves sitting, in tears, apart.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Good--that now's a proof of an iron heart.</p> +<br> +<p>CITIZEN.<br> +His grandmother's sure to die with sorrow.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +The better--for then he'll inherit to-morrow.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT (advances gravely, and lays his hand on the<br> + Recruit's tin cap).<br> +The matter no doubt you have duly weighed,<br> +And here a new man of yourself have made;<br> +With hanger and helm, sir, you now belong<br> +To a nobler and more distinguished throng.<br> +Thus, a loftier spirit 'twere well to uphold--</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +And, specially, never be sparing of gold.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +In Fortune's ship, with an onward gale,<br> +My, friend, you have made up your mind to sail.<br> +The earth-ball is open before you--yet there<br> +Naught's to be gained, but by those who dare.<br> +Stupid and sluggish your citizen's found,<br> +Like a dyer's dull jade, in his ceaseless round,<br> +While the soldier can be whatever he will,<br> +For war o'er the earth is the watchword still.<br> +Just look now at me, and the coat I wear,<br> +You see that the emperor's baton I bear--<br> +And all good government, over the earth,<br> +You must know from the baton alone has birth;<br> +For the sceptre that's swayed by the kingly hand<br> +Is naught but a baton, we understand.<br> +And he who has corporal's rank obtained,<br> +Stands on the ladder where all's to be gained,<br> +And you, like another, may mount to that height--</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Provided you can but read and write.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Now, hark to an instance of this from me,<br> +And one, which I've lived myself to see<br> +There's Butler, the chief of dragoons, why he,<br> +Whose rank was not higher a whit than mine,<br> +Some thirty years since, at Cologne on Rhine,<br> +Is a major-general now--because<br> +He put himself forward and gained applause;<br> +Filling the world with his martial fame,<br> +While slept my merits without a name.<br> +And even the Friedlander's self--I've heard--<br> +Our general and all-commanding lord,<br> +Who now can do what he will at a word,<br> +Had at first but a private squire's degree;<br> +In the goddess of war yet trusting free,<br> +He reared the greatness which now you see,<br> +And, after the emperor, next is he.<br> +Who knows what more he may mean or get?<br> + (Slyly.)<br> +For all-day's evening isn't come yet.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +He was little at first, though now so great--<br> +For at Altorf, in student's gown he played<br> +By your leave, the part of a roaring blade,<br> +And rattled away at a queerish rate.<br> +His fag he had well nigh killed by a blow,<br> +And their Nur'mburg worships swore he should go<br> +To jail for his pains--if he liked it or no.<br> +'Twas a new-built nest to be christened by him<br> +Who first should be lodged. Well, what was his whim?<br> +Why, he sent his dog forward to lead the way,<br> +And they call the jail from the dog to this day.<br> +That was the game a brave fellow should play,<br> +And of all the great deeds of the general, none<br> +E'er tickled my fancy, like this one.</p> +<br> +<p> [During this speech, the second Yager has begun toying<br> + with the girl who has been in waiting.]</p> +<br> +<p>DRAGOON (stepping between them).<br> +Comrade--give over this sport, I pray.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Why, who the devil shall say me nay!</p> +<br> +<p>DRAGOON.<br> +I've only to tell you the girl's my own.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Such a morsel as this, for himself alone!--<br> +Dragoon, why say, art thou crazy grown?</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +In the camp to be keeping a wench for one!<br> +No! the light of a pretty girl's face must fall,<br> +Like the beams of the sun, to gladden us all.<br> + (Kisses her.)<br> +DRAGOON (tears her away).<br> +I tell you again, that it shan't be done.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +The pipers are coming, lads! now for fun!</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER (to Dragoon).<br> +I shan't be far off, should you look for me.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Peace, my good fellows!--a kiss goes free.</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE VIII.</p> +<br> +<p> Enter Miners, and play a waltz--at first slowly, and<br> + afterwards quicker. The first Yager dances with the girl,<br> + the Sutler-woman with the recruit. The girl springs away,<br> + and the Yager, pursuing her, seizes hold of a Capuchin<br> + Friar just entering.</p> +<br> +<p>CAPUCHIN.<br> +Hurrah! halloo! tol, lol, de rol, le!<br> +The fun's at its height! I'll not be away!<br> +Is't an army of Christians that join in such works?<br> +Or are we all turned Anabaptists and Turks?<br> +Is the Sabbath a day for this sport in the land,<br> +As though the great God had the gout in his hand,<br> +And thus couldn't smite in the midst of your band?<br> +Say, is this a time for your revelling shouts,<br> +For your banquetings, feasts, and holiday bouts?<br> +Quid hic statis otiosi? declare<br> +Why, folding your arms, stand ye lazily there?<br> +While the furies of war on the Danube now fare<br> +And Bavaria's bulwark is lying full low,<br> +And Ratisbon's fast in the clutch of the foe.<br> +Yet, the army lies here in Bohemia still,<br> +And caring for naught, so their paunches they fill!<br> +Bottles far rather than battles you'll get,<br> +And your bills than your broad-swords more readily wet;<br> +With the wenches, I ween, is your dearest concern,<br> +And you'd rather roast oxen than Oxenstiern.<br> +In sackcloth and ashes while Christendom's grieving,<br> +No thought has the soldier his guzzle of leaving.<br> +'Tis a time of misery, groans, and tears!<br> +Portentous the face of the heavens appears!<br> +And forth from the clouds behold blood-red,<br> +The Lord's war-mantle is downward spread--<br> +While the comet is thrust as a threatening rod,<br> +From the window of heaven by the hand of God.<br> +The world is but one vast house of woe,<br> +The ark of the church stems a bloody flow,<br> +The Holy Empire--God help the same!<br> +Has wretchedly sunk to a hollow name.<br> +The Rhine's gay stream has a gory gleam,<br> +The cloister's nests are robbed by roysters;<br> +The church-lands now are changed to lurch-lands;<br> +Abbacies, and all other holy foundations<br> +Now are but robber-sees--rogues' habitations.<br> +And thus is each once-blest German state,<br> +Deep sunk in the gloom of the desolate!<br> +Whence comes all this? Oh, that will I tell--<br> +It comes of your doings, of sin, and of hell;<br> +Of the horrible, heathenish lives ye lead,<br> +Soldiers and officers, all of a breed.<br> +For sin is the magnet, on every hand,<br> +That draws your steel throughout the land!<br> +As the onion causes the tear to flow,<br> +So vice must ever be followed by woe--<br> +The W duly succeeds the V,<br> +This is the order of A, B, C.<br> +Ubi erit victoriae spes,<br> +Si offenditur Deus? which says,<br> +How, pray ye, shall victory e'er come to pass,<br> +If thus you play truant from sermon and mass,<br> +And do nothing but lazily loll o'er the glass?<br> +The woman, we're told in the Testament,<br> +Found the penny in search whereof she went.<br> +Saul met with his father's asses again,<br> +And Joseph his precious fraternal train,<br> +But he, who 'mong soldiers shall hope to see<br> +God's fear, or shame, or discipline--he<br> +From his toil, beyond doubt, will baffled return,<br> +Though a hundred lamps in the search he burn.<br> +To the wilderness preacher, th' Evangelist says,<br> +The soldiers, too, thronged to repent of their ways,<br> +And had themselves christened in former days.<br> +Quid faciemus nos? they said:<br> +Toward Abraham's bosom what path must we tread?<br> +Et ait illis, and, said he,<br> +Neminem concutiatis;<br> +From bother and wrongs leave your neighbors free.<br> +Neque calumniam faciatis;<br> +And deal nor in slander nor lies, d'ye see?<br> +Contenti estote--content ye, pray,<br> +Stipendiis vestris--with your pay--<br> +And curse forever each evil way.<br> +There is a command--thou shalt not utter<br> +The name of the Lord thy God in vain;<br> +But, where is it men most blasphemies mutter?<br> +Why here, in Duke Friedland's headquarters, 'tie plain<br> +If for every thunder, and every blast,<br> +Which blazing ye from your tongue-points cast,<br> +The bells were but rung, in the country round,<br> +Not a bellman, I ween, would there soon be found;<br> +And if for each and every unholy prayer<br> +Which to vent from your jabbering jaws you dare,<br> +From your noddles were plucked but the smallest hair,<br> +Ev'ry crop would be smoothed ere the sun went down,<br> +Though at morn 'twere as bushy as Absalom's crown.<br> +Now, Joshua, methinks, was a soldier as well--<br> +By the arm of King David the Philistine fell;<br> +But where do we find it written, I pray,<br> +That they ever blasphemed in this villanous way?<br> +One would think ye need stretch your jaws no more,<br> +To cry, "God help us!" than "Zounds!" to roar.<br> +But, by the liquor that's poured in the cask, we know<br> +With what it will bubble and overflow.<br> +Again, it is written--thou shalt not steal,<br> +And this you follow, i'faith! to the letter,<br> +For open-faced robbery suits ye better.<br> +The gripe of your vulture claws you fix<br> +On all--and your wiles and rascally tricks<br> +Make the gold unhid in our coffers now,<br> +And the calf unsafe while yet in the cow--<br> +Ye take both the egg and the hen, I vow.<br> +Contenti estote--the preacher said;<br> +Which means--be content with your army bread.<br> +But how should the slaves not from duty swerve?<br> +The mischief begins with the lord they serve,<br> +Just like the members so is the head.<br> +I should like to know who can tell me his creed.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Sir priest, 'gainst ourselves rail on as you will--<br> +Of the general we warn you to breathe no ill.</p> +<br> +<p>CAPUCHIN.<br> +Ne custodias gregem meam!<br> +An Ahab is he, and a Jerobeam,<br> +Who the people from faith's unerring way,<br> +To the worship of idols would turn astray,</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER and RECRUIT.<br> +Let us not hear that again, we pray.</p> +<br> +<p>CAPUCHIN.<br> +Such a Bramarbas, whose iron tooth<br> +Would seize all the strongholds of earth forsooth!<br> +Did he not boast, with ungodly tongue,<br> +That Stralsund must needs to his grasp be wrung,<br> +Though to heaven itself with a chain 'twere strung?</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Will none put a stop to his slanderous bawl?</p> +<br> +<p>CAPUCHIN.<br> +A wizard he is!--and a sorcerer Saul!--<br> +Holofernes!--a Jehu!--denying, we know,<br> +Like St. Peter, his Master and Lord below;<br> +And hence must he quail when the cock doth crow--</p> +<br> +<p>BOTH YAGERS.<br> +Now, parson, prepare; for thy doom is nigh.</p> +<br> +<p>CAPUCHIN.<br> +A fox more cunning than Herod, I trow--</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER and both YAGERS (pressing against him).<br> +Silence, again,--if thou wouldst not die!</p> +<br> +<p>CROATS (interfering.)<br> +Stick to it, father; we'll shield you, ne'er fear;<br> +The close of your preachment now let's hear.</p> +<br> +<p>CAPUCHIN (still louder).<br> +A Nebuchadnezzar in towering pride!<br> +And a vile and heretic sinner beside!<br> +He calls himself rightly the stone of a wall;<br> +For faith! he's a stumbling-stone to us all.<br> +And ne'er can the emperor have peace indeed,<br> +Till of Friedland himself the land is freed.</p> +<br> +<p> [During the last passages which he pronounces in an elevated<br> + voice, he has been gradually retreating, the Croats keeping<br> + the other soldiers off.</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE IX.</p> +<br> +<p> The above, without the Capuchin.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant).</p> +<br> +<p>But, tell us, what meant he about chanticleer;<br> +Whose crowing the general dares to hear?<br> +No doubt it was uttered in spite and scorn.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Listen--'Tis not so untrue as it appears;<br> +For Friedland was rather mysteriously born,<br> +And is 'specially troubled with ticklish ears;<br> +He can never suffer the mew of a cat;<br> +And when the cock crows he starts thereat.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +He's one and the same with the lion in that.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Mouse-still must all around him creep,<br> +Strict watch in this the sentinels keep,<br> +For he ponders on matters most grave and deep.<br> + [Voices in the tent. A tumult.<br> +Seize the rascal! Lay on! lay on!</p> +<br> +<p>PEASANT'S VOICE.<br> +Help!--mercy--help!</p> +<br> +<p>OTHERS.<br> + Peace! peace! begone!</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Deuce take me, but yonder the swords are out!</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Then I must be off, and see what 'tis about.</p> +<br> +<p> [Yagers enter the tent.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN (comes forward).<br> +A scandalous villain!--a scurvy thief!</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Good hostess, the cause of this clamorous grief?</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +A cut-purse! a scoundrel! the-villain I call.<br> +That the like in my tent should ever befall!<br> +I'm disgraced and undone with the officers all.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Well, coz, what is it?</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> + Why, what should it be?<br> +But a peasant they've taken just now with me--<br> +A rogue with false dice, to favor his play.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +See I they're bringing the boor and his son this way.</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE X.</p> +<br> +<p> Soldiers dragging in the peasant, bound.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +He must hang!</p> +<br> +<p>SHARPSHOOTERS and DRAGOONS.<br> + To the provost, come on!</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +'Tis the latest order that forth has gone.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +In an hour I hope to behold him swinging!</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Bad work bad wages will needs be bringing.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (to the others).<br> +This comes of their desperation. We<br> +First ruin them out and out, d'ye see;<br> +Which tempts them to steal, as it seems to me.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +How now! the rascal's cause would you plead?<br> +The cur! the devil is in you indeed!</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +The boor is a man--as a body may say.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER (to the Trumpeter).<br> +Let 'em go! they're of Tiefenbach's corps, the railers,<br> +A glorious train of glovers and tailors!<br> +At Brieg, in garrison, long they lay;<br> +What should they know about camps, I pray?</p> +<br> +<br><br><br><br><br> +<br> +<p> SCENE XI.</p> +<br> +<p> The above.--Cuirassiers.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Peace! what's amiss with the boor, may I crave?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST SHARPSHOOTER.<br> +He has cheated at play, the cozening knave!</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +But say, has he cheated you, man, of aught?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST SHARPHOOTER.<br> +Just cleaned me out--and not left me a groat.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +And can you, who've the rank of a Friedland man,<br> +So shamefully cast yourself away,<br> +As to try your luck with the boor at play?<br> +Let him run off, so that run he can.</p> +<br> +<p> [The peasant escapes, the others throng together.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +He makes short work--is of resolute mood--<br> +And that with such fellows as these is good.<br> +Who is he? not of Bohemia, that's clear.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +He's a Walloon--and respect, I trow,<br> +Is due to the Pappenheim cuirassier!</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST DRAGOON (joining).<br> +Young Piccolomini leads them now,<br> +Whom they chose as colonel, of their own free might,<br> +When Pappenheim fell in Luetzen's fight.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +Durst they, indeed, presume so far?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST DRAGOON.<br> +This regiment is something above the rest.<br> +It has ever been foremost through the war,<br> +And may manage its laws, as it pleases best;<br> +Besides, 'tis by Friedland himself caressed.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER (to the Second.)<br> +Is't so in truth, man? Who averred it?</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND CUIRASSIER.<br> +From the lips of the colonel himself I heard it.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +The devil! we're not their dogs, I weep!</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +How now, what's wrong? You're swollen with spleen!</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Is it anything, comrades, may us concern?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +'Tis what none need be wondrous glad to learn.</p> +<br> +<p> The Soldiers press round him.</p> +<br> +<p>To the Netherlands they would lend us now--<br> +Cuirassiers, Yagers, and Shooters away,<br> +Eight thousand in all must march, they say.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +What! What! again the old wandering way--<br> +I got back from Flanders but yesterday!</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND CUIRASSIER (to the Dragoons).<br> +You of Butler's corps must tramp with the rest.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +And we, the Walloons, must doubtless be gone.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +Why, of all our squadrons these are the best.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +To march where that Milanese fellow leads on.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +The infant? that's queer enough in its way.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +The priest--then, egad! there's the devil to pay.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Shall we then leave the Friedlander's train,<br> +Who so nobly his soldiers doth entertain--<br> +And drag to the field with this fellow from Spain!<br> +A niggard whom we in our souls disdain!<br> +That'll never go down--I'm off, I swear.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Why, what the devil should we do there?<br> +We sold our blood to the emperor--ne'er<br> +For this Spanish red hat a drop we'll spare!</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +On the Friedlander's word and credit alone<br> +We ranged ourselves in the trooper line,<br> +And, but for our love to Wallenstein,<br> +Ferdinand ne'er had our service known.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST DRAGOON.<br> +Was it not Friedland that formed our force?<br> +His fortune shall still be the star of our course.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Silence, good comrades, to me give ear--<br> +Talking does little to help us here.<br> +Much farther in this I can see than you all,<br> +And a trap has been laid in which we're to fall;</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +List to the order-book! hush--be still!</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +But first, Cousin Gustel, I pray thee fill<br> +A glass of Melneck, as my stomach's but weak<br> +When I've tossed it off, my mind I'll speak.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +Take it, good sergeant. I quake for fear--<br> +Think you that mischief is hidden here?</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Look ye, my friends, 'tis fit and clear<br> +That each should consider what's most near.<br> +But as the general says, say I,<br> +One should always the whole of a case descry.<br> +We call ourselves all the Friedlander's troops;<br> +The burgher, on whom we're billeted, stoops<br> +Our wants to supply, and cooks our soups.<br> +His ox, or his horse, the peasant must chain<br> +To our baggage-car, and may grumble in vain.<br> +Just let a lance-corp'ral, with seven good men,<br> +Tow'rd a village from far but come within ken,<br> +You're sure he'll be prince of the place, and may<br> +Cut what capers he will, with unquestioned sway.<br> +Why, zounds! lads, they heartily hate us all--<br> +And would rather the devil should give them a call,<br> +Than our yellow collars. And why don't they fall<br> +On us fairly at once and get rid of our lumber?<br> +They're more than our match in point of number,<br> +And carry the cudgel as we do the sword.<br> +Why can we laugh them to scorn? By my word<br> +Because we make up here a terrible horde.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Ay, ay, in the mass lies the spell of our might,<br> +And the Friedlander judged the matter aright,<br> +When, some eight or nine years ago, he brought<br> +The emperor's army together. They thought<br> +Twelve thousand enough for the general. In vain,<br> +Said he, such a force I can never maintain.<br> +Sixty thousand I'll bring ye into the plain,<br> +And they, I'll be sworn, won't of hunger die,<br> +And thus were we Wallenstein's men, say I.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +For example, cut one of my fingers off,<br> +This little one here from my right hand doff.<br> +Is the taking my finger then all you've done?<br> +No, no, to the devil my hand is gone!<br> +'Tis a stump--no more--and use has none.<br> +The eight thousand horse they wish to disband<br> +May be but a finger of our army's hand.<br> +But when they're once gone may we understand<br> +We are but one-fifth the less? Oh, no--<br> +By the Lord, the whole to the devil will go!<br> +All terror, respect, and awe will be over,<br> +And the peasant will swell his crest once more;<br> +And the Board of Vienna will order us where<br> +Our troops must be quartered and how we must fare,<br> +As of old in the days of their beggarly care.<br> +Yes, and how long it will be who can say<br> +Ere the general himself they may take away?<br> +For they don't much like him at court I learn?<br> +And then it's all up with the whole concern!<br> +For who, to our pay, will be left to aid us?<br> +And see that they keep the promise they made us?<br> +Who has the energy--who the mind--<br> +The flashing thought--and the fearless hand--<br> +Together to bring, and thus fastly bind<br> +The fragments that form our close-knit band.<br> +For example, dragoon--just answer us now,<br> +From which of the countries of earth art thou?</p> +<br> +<p>DRAGOON.<br> +From distant Erin came I here.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT (to the two Cuirassiers).<br> +You're a Walloon, my friend, that's clear,<br> +And you, an Italian, as all may hear.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Who I may be, faith! I never could say;<br> +In my infant years they stole me away.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +And you, from what far land may you be?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +I come from Buchau--on the Feder Sea.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Neighbor, and you?</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND ARQUEBUSIER.<br> + I am a Swiss.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT (to the second Yager).<br> +And Yager, let's hear where your country is?</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Up above Wismar my fathers dwell.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT (pointing to the Trumpeter).<br> +And he's from Eger--and I as well:<br> +And now, my comrades, I ask you whether,<br> +Would any one think, when looking at us,<br> +That we, from the North and South, had thus<br> +Been hitherward drifted and blown together?<br> +Do we not seem as hewn from one mass?<br> +Stand we not close against the foe<br> +As though we were glued or moulded so?<br> +Like mill-work don't we move, d'ye think!<br> +'Mong ourselves in the nick, at a word or wink.<br> +Who has thus cast us here all as one,<br> +Now to be severed again by none?<br> +Who? why, no other than Wallenstein!</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +In my life it ne'er was a thought of mine<br> +Whether we suited each other or not,<br> +I let myself go with the rest of the lot.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +I quite agree in the sergeant's opinion--<br> +They'd fain have an end of our camp dominion,<br> +And trample the soldier down, that they<br> +May govern alone in their own good way.<br> +'Tis a conspiration--a plot, I say!</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +A conspiration--God help the day!<br> +Then my customers won't have cash to pay.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Why, faith, we shall all be bankrupts made;<br> +The captains and generals, most of them, paid<br> +The costs of the regiments with private cash,<br> +And, wishing, 'bove all, to cut a dash,<br> +Went a little beyond their means--but thought,<br> +No doubt, that they thus had a bargain bought.<br> +Now they'll be cheated, sirs, one and all,<br> +Should our chief, our head, the general fall.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +Oh, Heaven! this curse I never can brook<br> +Why, half of the army stand in my book.<br> +Two hundred dollars I've trusted madly<br> +That Count Isolani who pays so badly.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Well, comrades, let's fix on what's to be done--<br> +Of the ways to save us, I see but one;<br> +If we hold together we need not fear;<br> +So let us stand out as one man here;<br> +And then they may order and send as they will,<br> +Fast planted we'll stick in Bohemia still.<br> +We'll never give in--no, nor march an inch,<br> +We stand on our honor, and must not flinch.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +We're not to be driven the country about,<br> +Let 'em come here, and they'll find it out.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +Good sirs, 'twere well to bethink ye still,<br> +That such is the emperor's sovereign will.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Oh, as to the emperor, we needn't be nice.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +Let me not hear you say so twice.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +Why, 'tis even so--as I just have said.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +True, man--I've always heard 'em say,<br> +'Tis Friedland, alone, you've here to obey.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +By our bargain with him it should be so,<br> +Absolute power is his, you must know,<br> +We've war, or peace, but as he may please,<br> +Or gold or goods he has power to seize,<br> +And hanging or pardon his will decrees.<br> +Captains and colonels he makes--and he,<br> +In short, by the imperial seal is free,<br> +To hold all the marks of sovereignty.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +The duke is high and of mighty will,<br> +But yet must remain, for good or for ill,<br> +Like us all, but the emperor's servant still.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Not like us all--I there disagree--<br> +Friedland is quite independent and free,<br> +The Bavarian is no more a prince than he<br> +For, was I not by myself to see,<br> +When on duty at Brandeis, how the emperor said,<br> +He wished him to cover his princely head.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +That was because of the Mecklenburgh land,<br> +Which he held in pawn from the emperor's hand.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant).<br> +In the emperor's presence, man! say you so?<br> +That, beyond doubt, was a wonderful go!</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT (feels in his pocket).<br> +If you question my word in what I have told,<br> +I can give you something to grasp and hold.<br> + [Showing a coin.<br> +Whose image and stamp d'ye here behold?</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +Oh! that is a Wallenstein's, sure!</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT-MAJOR.<br> +Well, there, you have it--what doubt can rest<br> +Is he not prince, just as good as the best?<br> +Coins he not money like Ferdinand?<br> +Hath he not his own subjects and land?<br> +Is he not called your highness, I pray?<br> +And why should he not have his soldiers in?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +That no one has ever meant to gainsay;<br> +But we're still at the emperor's beck and call,<br> +For his majesty 'tis who pays us all.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +In your teeth I deny it--and will again--<br> +His majesty 'tis who pays us not,<br> +For this forty weeks, say, what have we got<br> +But a promise to pay, believed in vain?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +What then! 'tis kept in safe hands, I suppose.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Peace, good sirs, will you come to blows?<br> +Have you a quarrel and squabble to know<br> +If the emperor be our master or no?<br> +'Tis because of our rank, as his soldiers brave,<br> +That we scorn the lot of the herded slave;<br> +And will not be driven from place to place,<br> +As priest or puppies our path may trace.<br> +And, tell me, is't not the sovereign's gain,<br> +If the soldiers their dignity will maintain?<br> +Who but his soldiers give him the state<br> +Of a mighty, wide-ruling potentate?<br> +Make and preserve for him, far and near,<br> +The voice which Christendom quakes to hear?<br> +Well enough they may his yoke-chain bear,<br> +Who feast on his favors, and daily share,<br> +In golden chambers, his sumptuous fare.<br> +We--we of his splendors have no part,<br> +Naught but hard wearying toil and care,<br> +And the pride that lives in a soldier's heart.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +All great tyrants and kings have shown<br> +Their wit, as I take it, in what they've done;<br> +They've trampled all others with stern command,<br> +But the soldier they've led with a gentle hand.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +The soldier his worth must understand;<br> +Whoe'er doesn't nobly drive the trade,<br> +'Twere best from the business far he'd stayed.<br> +If I cheerily set my life on a throw,<br> +Something still better than life I'll know;<br> +Or I'll stand to be slain for the paltry pelf,<br> +As the Croat still does--and scorn myself.</p> +<br> +<p>BOTH PAGERS.<br> +Yes--honor is dearer than life itself.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +The sword is no plough, nor delving tool,<br> +He, who would till with it, is but a fool.<br> +For us, neither grass nor grain doth grow,<br> +Houseless the soldier is doomed to go,<br> +A changeful wanderer over the earth,<br> +Ne'er knowing the warmth of a home-lit hearth.<br> +The city glances--he halts--not there--<br> +Nor in village meadows, so green and fair;<br> +The vintage and harvest wreath are twined<br> +He sees, but must leave them far behind.<br> +Then, tell me, what hath the soldier left,<br> +If he's once of his self-esteem bereft?<br> +Something he must have his own to call,<br> +Or on slaughter and burnings at once he'll fall.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +God knows, 'tis a wretched life to live!</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Yet one, which I, for no other would give,<br> +Look ye--far round in the world I've been,<br> +And all of its different service seen.<br> +The Venetian Republic--the Kings of Spain<br> +And Naples I've served, and served in vain.<br> +Fortune still frowned--and merchant and knight,<br> +Craftsmen and Jesuit, have met my sight;<br> +Yet, of all their jackets, not one have I known<br> +To please me like this steel coat of my own.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +Well--that now is what I can scarcely say.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +In the world, a man who would make his way,<br> +Must plague and bestir himself night and day.<br> +To honor and place if he choose the road,<br> +He must bend his back to the golden load.<br> +And if home-delights should his fancy please,<br> +With children and grandchildren round his knees,<br> +Let him follow an honest trade in peace.<br> +I've no taste for this kind of life--not I!<br> +Free will I live, and as freely die.<br> +No man's spoiler nor heir will I be--<br> +But, throned on my nag, I will smile to see<br> +The coil of the crowd that is under me.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Bravo!--that's as I've always done.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +In truth, sirs, it may be far better fun<br> +To trample thus over your neighbor's crown.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Comrade, the times are bad of late--<br> +The sword and the scales live separate.<br> +But do not then blame that I've preferred,<br> +Of the two, to lean, as I have, to the sword.<br> +For mercy in war I will yield to none,<br> +Though I never will stoop to be drummed upon.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.<br> +Who but the soldier the blame should bear<br> +That the laboring poor so hardly fare?<br> +The war with its plagues, which all have blasted<br> +Now sixteen years in the land hath lasted.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Why, brother, the blessed God above<br> +Can't have from us all an equal love.<br> +One prays for the sun, at which t'other will fret<br> +One is for dry weather-t'other for wet.<br> +What you, now, regard as with misery rife,<br> +Is to me the unclouded sun of life.<br> +If 'tis at the cost of the burgher and boor,<br> +I really am sorry that they must endure;<br> +But how can I help it? Here, you must know,<br> +'Tis just like a cavalry charge 'gainst the foe:<br> +The steeds loud snorting, and on they go!<br> +Whoever may lie in the mid-career--<br> +Be it my brother or son so dear,<br> +Should his dying groan my heart divide,<br> +Yet over his body I needs must ride,<br> +Nor pitying stop to drag him aside.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +True--who ever asks how another may bide?</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Thus, my lads, 'tis my counsel, while<br> +On the soldier Dame Fortune deigns to smile,<br> +That we with both hands her bounty clasp,<br> +For it may not be much longer left to our grasp.<br> +Peace will be coming some over-night,<br> +And then there's an end of our martial might.<br> +The soldier unhorsed, and fresh mounted to boor,<br> +Ere you can think it 'twill be as before.<br> +As yet we're together firm bound in the land,<br> +The hilt is yet fast in the soldier's hand.<br> +But let 'em divide us, and soon we shall find,<br> +Short commons is all that remains behind.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +No, no, by the Lord! That won't do for me.<br> +Come, come, lads, let's all now, as one, agree.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Yes, let us resolve on what 'tis to be.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (To the Sutler-woman, drawing out his leather purse).<br> +Hostess, tell us how high you've scored.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN.<br> +Oh, 'tis unworthy a single word.</p> +<br> +<p> [They settle.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +You do well, sirs, to take a further walk,<br> +Your company only disturbs our talk.</p> +<br> +<p> [Exeunt Arquebusiers.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Plague take the fellows--they're brave, I know.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +They haven't a soul 'bove a soapboiler's, though.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +We're now alone, so teach us who can<br> +How best we may meet and mar their plan.</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER.<br> +How? Why, let's tell them we will not go!</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Despising all discipline! No, my lads, no,<br> +Rather his corps let each of us seek,<br> +And quietly then with his comrades speak,<br> +That every soldier may clearly know,<br> +It were not for his good so far to go;<br> +For my Walloons to answer I'm free,<br> +Every man of 'em thinks and acts with me.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +The Terzky regiments, both horse and foot,<br> +Will thus resolve, and will keep them to't.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND CUIRASSIER (joining the first).<br> +The Walloons and the Lombards one intent.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +Freedom is Yagers' own element.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Freedom must ever with might entwine--<br> +I live and will die by Wallenstein.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST SHARPSHOOTER.<br> +The Lorrainers go on with the strongest tide,<br> +Where spirits are light and courage tried.</p> +<br> +<p>DRAGOON.<br> +An Irishman follows his fortune's star.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND SHARPSHOOTER.<br> +The Tyrolese for their sovereign war.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST CUIRASSIER.<br> +Then, comrades, let each of our corps agree<br> +A pro memoria to sign--that we,<br> +In spite of all force or fraud, will be<br> +To the fortunes of Friedland firmly bound,<br> +For in him is the soldier's father found.<br> +This we will humbly present, when done,<br> +To Piccolomini--I mean the son--<br> +Who understands these kind of affairs,<br> +And the Friedlander's highest favor shares;<br> +Besides, with the emperor's self, they say<br> +He holds a capital card to play.</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND YAGER.<br> +Well, then, in this, let us all agree,<br> +That the colonel shall our spokesman be!</p> +<br> +<p>ALL (going).<br> +Good! the colonel shall our spokesman be.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT.<br> +Hold, sirs--just toss off a glass with me<br> +To the health of Piccolomini.</p> +<br> +<p>SUTLER-WOMAN (brings a flask).<br> +This shall not go to the list of scores,<br> +I gladly give it--success be yours!</p> +<br> +<p>CUIRASSIER.<br> +The soldier shall sway!</p> +<br> +<p>BOTH YAGERS.<br> + The peasant shall pay</p> +<br> +<p>DRAGOONS and SHARPSHOOTERS.<br> +The army shall flourishing stand!</p> +<br> +<p>TRUMPETER and SERGEANT.<br> +And the Friedlander keep the command!</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND CUIRASSIER (sings).<br> +<p> Arouse ye, my comrades, to horse! to horse!<br> + To the field and to freedom we guide!<br> + For there a man feels the pride of his force<br> + And there is the heart of him tried.<br> + No help to him there by another is shown,<br> + He stands for himself and himself alone.</p> +<br> +<p>[The soldiers from the background have come forward during the singing<br> +of this verse and form the chorus.</p> +<br> +<p>CHORUS.<br> +<p> No help to him by another is shown,<br> + He stands for himself and himself alone.</p> +<br> +<p>DRAGOON.<br> + Now freedom hath fled from the world, we find<br> + But lords and their bondsmen vile<br> + And nothing holds sway in the breast of mankind<br> + Save falsehood and cowardly guile.<br> + Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow,<br> + The soldier, alone, is the freeman now.</p> +<br> +<p>CHORUS. +<br> Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow,<br> + The soldier, alone, is the freeman now.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER. +<br> With the troubles of life he ne'er bothers his pate,<br> + And feels neither fear nor sorrow;<br> + But boldly rides onward to meet with his fate--<br> + He may meet it to-day, or to-morrow!<br> + And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say,<br> + Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day!</p> +<br> +<p>CHORUS. +<br> And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say,<br> + Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day!</p> +<br> +<p>[The glasses are here refilled, and all drink.</p> +<br> +<p>SERGEANT. +<br> 'Tis from heaven his jovial lot has birth;<br> + Nor needs he to strive or toil.<br> + The peasant may grope in the bowels of earth,<br> + And for treasure may greedily moil<br> + He digs and he delves through life for the pelf,<br> + And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself.</p> +<br> +<p>CHORUS. +<br> He digs and he delves through life for the pelf,<br> + And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER. +<br> The rider and lightning steed--a pair<br> + Of terrible guests, I ween!<br> + From the bridal-hall, as the torches glare,<br> + Unbidden they join the scene;<br> + Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove;<br> + By storm he carries the prize of love!</p> +<br> +<p>CHORUS. +<br> + Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove;<br> + By storm he carries the prize of love!</p> +<br> +<p>SECOND CUIRASSIER. +<br> + Why mourns the wench with so sorrowful face?<br> + Away, girl, the soldier must go!<br> + No spot on the earth is his resting-place;<br> + And your true love he never can know.<br> + Still onward driven by fate's rude wind,<br> + He nowhere may leave his peace behind.</p> +<br> +<p>CHORUS. +<br> Still onward driven by fate's rude wind,<br> + He nowhere may leave his peace behind.</p> +<br> +<p>FIRST YAGER.<br> +He takes the two next to him by the hand--the others do the same--and<br> +form a large semi-circle.</p> +<br> +<p> Then rouse ye, my comrades--to horse! to horse!<br> + In battle the breast doth swell!<br> + Youth boils--the life-cup foams in its force--<br> + Up! ere time can dew dispel!<br> + And deep be the stake, as the prize is high--<br> + Who life would win, he must dare to die!</p> +<br> +<p>CHORUS. +<br> And deep be the stake, as the prize is high--<br> + Who life would win, he must dare to die!</p> +<br> +<p> [The curtain falls before the chorus has finished.</p> +<br> +<br> + + + +<br> +<br> +<hr> +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<pre> +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALLENSTEIN'S CAMP, BY SCHILLER *** + +******** This file should be named fs25w10h.html or fs25w10h.zip ********* + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, fs25w11h.html +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, fs25w10ha.html + +This eBook was produced by Tapio Riikonen +and David Widger, [widger@cecomet.net] + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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