The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 144

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.

Let me not hear you say so twice.

TRUMPETER.

Why, 'tis even so--as I just have said.

FIRST YAGER.

True, man--I've always heard 'em say, 'Tis Friedland, alone, you've here to obey.

SERGEANT.

By our bargain with him it should be so, Absolute power is his, you must know, We've war, or peace, but as he may please, Or gold or goods he has power to seize, And hanging or pardon his will decrees.

Captains and colonels he makes--and he, In short, by the imperial seal is free, To hold all the marks of sovereignty.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.

The duke is high and of mighty will, But yet must remain, for good or for ill, Like us all, but the emperor's servant still.

SERGEANT.

Not like us all--I there disagree-- Friedland is quite independent and free, The Bavarian is no more a prince than he For, was I not by myself to see, When on duty at Brandeis, how the emperor said, He wished him to cover his princely head.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.

That was because of the Mecklenburgh land, Which he held in p.a.w.n from the emperor's hand.

FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant).

In the emperor's presence, man! say you so?

That, beyond doubt, was a wonderful go!

SERGEANT (feels in his pocket).

If you question my word in what I have told, I can give you something to grasp and hold.

[Showing a coin.

Whose image and stamp d'ye here behold?

SUTLER-WOMAN.

Oh! that is a Wallenstein's, sure!

SERGEANT-MAJOR.

Well, there, you have it--what doubt can rest Is he not prince, just as good as the best?

Coins he not money like Ferdinand?

Hath he not his own subjects and land?

Is he not called your highness, I pray?

And why should he not have his soldiers in?

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.

That no one has ever meant to gainsay; But we're still at the emperor's beck and call, For his majesty 'tis who pays us all.

TRUMPETER.

In your teeth I deny it--and will again-- His majesty 'tis who pays us not, For this forty weeks, say, what have we got But a promise to pay, believed in vain?

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.

What then! 'tis kept in safe hands, I suppose.

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

Peace, good sirs, will you come to blows?

Have you a quarrel and squabble to know If the emperor be our master or no?

'Tis because of our rank, as his soldiers brave, That we scorn the lot of the herded slave; And will not be driven from place to place, As priest or puppies our path may trace.

And, tell me, is't not the sovereign's gain, If the soldiers their dignity will maintain?

Who but his soldiers give him the state Of a mighty, wide-ruling potentate?

Make and preserve for him, far and near, The voice which Christendom quakes to hear?

Well enough they may his yoke-chain bear, Who feast on his favors, and daily share, In golden chambers, his sumptuous fare.

We--we of his splendors have no part, Naught but hard wearying toil and care, And the pride that lives in a soldier's heart.

SECOND YAGER.

All great tyrants and kings have shown Their wit, as I take it, in what they've done; They've trampled all others with stern command, But the soldier they've led with a gentle hand.

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

The soldier his worth must understand; Whoe'er doesn't n.o.bly drive the trade, 'Twere best from the business far he'd stayed.

If I cheerily set my life on a throw, Something still better than life I'll know; Or I'll stand to be slain for the paltry pelf, As the Croat still does--and scorn myself.

BOTH PAGERS.

Yes--honor is dearer than life itself.

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

The sword is no plough, nor delving tool, He, who would till with it, is but a fool.

For us, neither gra.s.s nor grain doth grow, Houseless the soldier is doomed to go, A changeful wanderer over the earth, Ne'er knowing the warmth of a home-lit hearth.

The city glances--he halts--not there-- Nor in village meadows, so green and fair; The vintage and harvest wreath are twined He sees, but must leave them far behind.

Then, tell me, what hath the soldier left, If he's once of his self-esteem bereft?

Something he must have his own to call, Or on slaughter and burnings at once he'll fall.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.

G.o.d knows, 'tis a wretched life to live!

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

Yet one, which I, for no other would give, Look ye--far round in the world I've been, And all of its different service seen.

The Venetian Republic--the Kings of Spain And Naples I've served, and served in vain.

Fortune still frowned--and merchant and knight, Craftsmen and Jesuit, have met my sight; Yet, of all their jackets, not one have I known To please me like this steel coat of my own.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.

Well--that now is what I can scarcely say.

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

In the world, a man who would make his way, Must plague and bestir himself night and day.

To honor and place if he choose the road, He must bend his back to the golden load.

And if home-delights should his fancy please, With children and grandchildren round his knees, Let him follow an honest trade in peace.

I've no taste for this kind of life--not I!

Free will I live, and as freely die.

No man's spoiler nor heir will I be-- But, throned on my nag, I will smile to see The coil of the crowd that is under me.

FIRST YAGER.

Bravo!--that's as I've always done.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.