The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 143

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 ma.s.s 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 flas.h.i.+ng 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 Cuira.s.siers).

You're a Walloon, my friend, that's clear, And you, an Italian, as all may hear.

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

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 ma.s.s?

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 CUIRa.s.sIER.

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--G.o.d 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, wis.h.i.+ng, '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 CUIRa.s.sIER.

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.