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Read books online » Drama » The Camp of Wallenstein by Friedrich Schiller (howl and other poems .txt) 📖

Book online «The Camp of Wallenstein by Friedrich Schiller (howl and other poems .txt) 📖». Author Friedrich Schiller



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soon we shall find, Short commons is all that remains behind.

FIRST YAGER. No, no, by the Lord! That won't do for me. Come, come, lads, let's all now, as one, agree.

SECOND YAGER. Yes, let us resolve on what 'tis to be.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (To the Sutler-woman, drawing out his leather purse). Hostess, tell us how high you've scored.

SUTLER-WOMAN. Oh, 'tis unworthy a single word.

[They settle.

TRUMPETER. You do well, sirs, to take a further walk, Your company only disturbs our talk.

[Exeunt Arquebusiers.

FIRST CUIRASSIER. Plague take the fellows - they're brave, I know.

FIRST YAGER. They haven't a soul 'bove a soapboiler's, though.

SECOND YAGER. We're now alone, so teach us who can How best we may meet and mar their plan.

TRUMPETER. How? Why, let's tell them we will not go!

FIRST CUIRASSIER. Despising all discipline! No, my lads, no, Rather his corps let each of us seek, And quietly then with his comrades speak, That every soldier may clearly know, It were not for his good so far to go; For my Walloons to answer I'm free, Every man of 'em thinks and acts with me.

SERGEANT. The Terzky regiments, both horse and foot, Will thus resolve, and will keep them to't.

SECOND CUIRASSIER (joining the first). The Walloons and the Lombards one intent.

FIRST YAGER. Freedom is Yagers' own element.

SECOND YAGER. Freedom must ever with might entwine - I live and will die by Wallenstein.

FIRST SHARPSHOOTER. The Lorrainers go on with the strongest tide, Where spirits are light and courage tried.

DRAGOON. An Irishman follows his fortune's star.

SECOND SHARPSHOOTER. The Tyrolese for their sovereign war.

FIRST CUIRASSIER. Then, comrades, let each of our corps agree A pro memoria to sign - that we, In spite of all force or fraud, will be To the fortunes of Friedland firmly bound, For in him is the soldier's father found. This we will humbly present, when done, To Piccolomini - I mean the son - Who understands these kind of affairs, And the Friedlander's highest favor shares; Besides, with the emperor's self, they say He holds a capital card to play.

SECOND YAGER. Well, then, in this, let us all agree, That the colonel shall our spokesman be!

ALL (going). Good! the colonel shall our spokesman be.

SERGEANT. Hold, sirs - just toss off a glass with me To the health of Piccolomini.

SUTLER-WOMAN (brings a flask). This shall not go to the list of scores, I gladly give it - success be yours!

CUIRASSIER. The soldier shall sway!

BOTH YAGERS.
The peasant shall pay

DRAGOONS and SHARPSHOOTERS. The army shall flourishing stand!

TRUMPETER and SERGEANT. And the Friedlander keep the command!

SECOND CUIRASSIER (sings).

Arouse ye, my comrades, to horse! to horse!
To the field and to freedom we guide!
For there a man feels the pride of his force
And there is the heart of him tried.
No help to him there by another is shown,
He stands for himself and himself alone.

[The soldiers from the background have come forward during the singing of this verse and form the chorus.

CHORUS.

No help to him by another is shown,
He stands for himself and himself alone.

DRAGOON.

Now freedom hath fled from the world, we find
But lords and their bondsmen vile
And nothing holds sway in the breast of mankind
Save falsehood and cowardly guile.
Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow,
The soldier, alone, is the freeman now.

CHORUS.

Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow,
The soldier, alone, is the freeman now.

FIRST YAGER.

With the troubles of life he ne'er bothers his pate,
And feels neither fear nor sorrow;
But boldly rides onward to meet with his fate -
He may meet it to-day, or to-morrow!
And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say,
Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day!

CHORUS.

And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say,
Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day!

[The glasses are here refilled, and all drink.

SERGEANT.

'Tis from heaven his jovial lot has birth;
Nor needs he to strive or toil.
The peasant may grope in the bowels of earth,
And for treasure may greedily moil
He digs and he delves through life for the pelf,
And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself.

CHORUS.

He digs and he delves through life for the pelf,
And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself.

FIRST YAGER.

The rider and lightning steed - a pair
Of terrible guests, I ween!
From the bridal-hall, as the torches glare,
Unbidden they join the scene;
Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove;
By storm he carries the prize of love!

CHORUS.

Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove;
By storm he carries the prize of love!

SECOND CUIRASSIER.

Why mourns the wench with so sorrowful face?
Away, girl, the soldier must go!
No spot on the earth is his resting-place;
And your true love he never can know.
Still onward driven by fate's rude wind,
He nowhere may leave his peace behind.

CHORUS.

Still onward driven by fate's rude wind,
He nowhere may leave his peace behind.

FIRST YAGER. He takes the two next to him by the hand - the others do the same - and form a large semi-circle.

Then rouse ye, my comrades - to horse! to horse!
In battle the breast doth swell!
Youth boils - the life-cup foams in its force -
Up! ere time can dew dispel!
And deep be the stake, as the prize is high -
Who life would win, he must dare to die!

CHORUS.

And deep be the stake, as the prize is high -
Who life would win, he must dare to die!

[The curtain falls before the chorus has finished.
Imprint

Publication Date: 05-21-2008

All Rights Reserved

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