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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Camp of Wallenstein, by Frederich 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: 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
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