The Camp of Wallenstein

The Camp of Wallenstein

THE CAMP OF WALLENSTEIN FREDERICH SCHILLER 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. ...