Wallensteins Camp | Page 8

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