Wallensteins Camp | Page 2

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