Wallensteins Camp | Page 4

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