"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 pa.s.sable 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 sc.r.a.pe 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?