Part 142 (1/2)

He has cheated at play, the cozening knave!

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

But say, has he cheated you, man, of aught?

FIRST SHARPHOOTER.

Just cleaned me out--and not left me a groat.

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

And can you, who've the rank of a Friedland man, So shamefully cast yourself away, As to try your luck with the boor at play?

Let him run off, so that run he can.

[The peasant escapes, the others throng together.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.

He makes short work--is of resolute mood-- And that with such fellows as these is good.

Who is he? not of Bohemia, that's clear.

SUTLER-WOMAN.

He's a Walloon--and respect, I trow, Is due to the Pappenheim cuira.s.sier!

FIRST DRAGOON (joining).

Young Piccolomini leads them now, Whom they chose as colonel, of their own free might, When Pappenheim fell in Luetzen's fight.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.

Durst they, indeed, presume so far?

FIRST DRAGOON.

This regiment is something above the rest.

It has ever been foremost through the war, And may manage its laws, as it pleases best; Besides, 'tis by Friedland himself caressed.

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER (to the Second.) Is't so in truth, man? Who averred it?

SECOND CUIRa.s.sIER.

From the lips of the colonel himself I heard it.

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

The devil! we're not their dogs, I weep!

FIRST YAGER.

How now, what's wrong? You're swollen with spleen!

SECOND YAGER.

Is it anything, comrades, may us concern?

FIRST CUIRa.s.sIER.

'Tis what none need be wondrous glad to learn.

The Soldiers press round him.

To the Netherlands they would lend us now-- Cuira.s.siers, Yagers, and Shooters away, Eight thousand in all must march, they say.

SUTLER-WOMAN.