'You joke: while the Friedlander holds the sway
For my desertion take
you no fear-
Where can the soldier sit better than here?
We have war to deal with in form and soul,
And the cut of greatness throughout the whole;
And the spirit that works in the living form,
Whirls on in its course like the winter storm-
Trooper, like officer, on with the rest.
I too step forward among the best;
I too on the citizen learn to tread,
As the general steps on the prince's head.
Such customs the good old times recall,
When the blade of the soldier was all in all.
There is one transgression: by word or look
To gainsay the word of the Order-Book.
All that is not forbidden, is free-
No man asks of what creed ye be :
All things to the army belong or not,
I with the former have cast my lot-
I to the standard am pledged alone.
SERGEANT.

'You please me, Yager; in sooth your tone
Is that of ourselves, of the Friedlander's own.
'FIRST YAGER.

'He bears not his staff like some petty sway
Which the Emperor gave and can take away;
He serves not, he, for the Emperor's gain-
And how has he propped the Emperor's reign?
And what has he done to protect the land
From the terrible Swede and his Lutheran band?
No, a soldier kingdom he fain would found;
Light up and fire the world around,

Measure out and conquer his own domain.
' TRUMPETER.

'Hush, who would venture so bold a strain? FIRST YAGER.

'I speak what I think, and I speak it plain'Twas the general's saying, that words are free. SERGEANT.

'He stood as he uttered it close to me;

And added, moreover, I call to mind,

"That deeds are dumb and obedience blind :" And these are his spoken words I know.

FIRST YAGER.

'I wot not if these were his words or no, But however he said it the thing is so.

'SECOND YAGER.

For him the chances are ever the same;
Not, as with others, they turn and veer.
The fierce old Tilly outlived his fame;
But the Friedlander's banner is charmed to fly
To certain triumph and victory-

He has spell-bound fortune to his career.
Those who follow him to fight,

Own the aid of darker might;

For friends and foes alike will say,

That the Friedlander holds a devil in pay.
'SERGEANT.

'He is proof; and of that no man can doubt.
I saw him in Lutzen's bloodiest rout,
Where the muskets' cross-fire chiefly swept,
As coolly as on the parade he stepped.
His hat, I saw it, was riddled with shot,
In his boots and buff coat the lead was hot;
But the hellish salve was so well rubbed in,
That not a bullet might raze the skin.
FIRST YAGER.

'What miracles now? who credits such stuff?
He wears a jerkin of elk-skin tough,
Through which no bullet may find its way.

'SERGEANT.

'Once more 'tis the witches' salve I say,
Cooked up with sigil and sign and spell.

TRUMPETer.

'Dark doings these with the fiends of hell,

SERGEANT.

They say that he reads in planet and star
Things to happen both near and far;

But others believe-and I know they are right-
That a small grey man at the hour of night,
Through the bolted portals is wont to glide,
Has brushed by the sentinel's very side,

Challenged and scream'd to has never replied;

And something of import was ever near,

When the little grey man has been known to appear.
SECOND YAGER.

'He is sold to the devil I doubt indeed,

Which causes the jovial life we lead.'-pp. 27-38.

A recruit, a young man of superior station, is brought to the camp, who abandons his old grandmother and young bride for the excitements of a soldier's life. The sergeant, in order to encourage him, sets before his view the noble path of ambition and fortune which his new career opens to his pursuit: the scene then becomes one of dancing and merriment, and while all are engaged in singing, flirting, romping, shouting, a Capuchin friar suddenly makes his appearance, and treats the party to a sermon. This

discourse is a singular composition. It was the fashion at one time for the friars in Germany, as well as in France and in Spain and even in England, to intermingle scraps of Latin with their pulpit addresses. Some happily imitated specimens of the Spanish rustic sermons may be seen in that humorous satire, not much inferior in its way to Don Quixote, called Fray Gerundio en campos. In writing this discourse Schiller was perhaps more anxious to fill up the outlines of the friar's character, than to satirize a peculiar style. Even the mere English reader, unacquainted with the original, must perceive that in translating this strange discourse, Lord Levison Gower had an extremely difficult task to perform. 'SCENE VIII.

• Enter a band of miners, and play a waltz.-The First Yäger dances with the Waiting-Girl, the Recruit with the Sutler's Wife.-the Girl slips away, the Yäger after her, and seizes hold of the Capuchin, who enters at this moment.

'CAPUCHIN.

'Shout and swear, ye devil's crew

He is among ye, and I make two.

Can these be Christians in faith or works?

Are we Anabaptists, Jews, or Turks?

Is this a time to feast or play,

For banquet, dance and holiday?

When the quickest are slow, and the earliest late is,

Quid hic otiosi statis?

When the furies are loose by the Danube's side,
And the bulwark is low of Bavaria's pride,
And Ratisbon in the enemy's claw,

The soldier still looks to his ravenous maw;
For, praying or fighting, he eats and swears,
Less for the battle than the bottle he cares;
Loves better his beak than his blade to whet-
On the ox, not on Oxenstiern, would set.
'Tis a time for mourning, for prayer, and tears—
Sign and wonder in heaven appears ;
Over the firmament is spread

War's wide mantle all bloody red,
And the streaming comet's fiery rod
Betokens the rightful wrath of God.
Whence comes all this?-I now proclaim
That from your sin proceeds your
shame :
Sin, like the magnet, draws the steel,
Which in its bowels the land must feel;

Ruin as close on wrong appears,

As, on the acrid onion, tears.

Who learns his letters this may know,
That violence produces woe,

As in the alphabet you see

How W comes after V.

When the altar and pulpit despised we see,
Ubi erit spes victoria?

Si offenditur Deus. How can we prevail,
Ifhis house and preachers we assail?
The woman in the Gospel found
The farthing dropped upon the ground;
Joseph again his brothers knew
(Albeit a most unworthy crew;)
Saul found his father's asses too:
Who in the soldier seeks to find
The Christian's love and humble mind,
And modesty and just restraint,
He in the devil seeks a saint;

And small reward will crown his hopes,
Though with a hundred lights he gropes.
The Gospel tells how the soldiers ran
In the desert of old to the holy man--
Did penance, were baptized, and prayed.
Quid faciemus nos? they said;

Et ait illis-he answers them:
Concutiatis neminem—

No one vex, or spoil, or kill;
Nec calumniam-speak no ill;
Contenti estote-learn not to fret
Stipendiis vestris-at what you get.
The Scripture forbids us, in language plain,
To take the holiest name in vain :

But here the law might as well be dumb;
And if for the thundering oaths which come
From the tip of the blasphemous soldier's tongue,
As for heaven's thunder the bells were rung,
The sacristans would soon be dead.

And if, for each wanton and wicked prayer,
Were plucked from the blasphemous soldier's head,
As a gift for Satan, a single hair,

Each head in the camp would be smooth and bare
Ere the watch was set and the sun was down,
Though at morn it were bushy as Absalom's crown.
A soldier Joshua was like you,

And David tall Goliah slew;

They laid about them as much and more,

But where do we read that they cursed and swore.
Yet the lips which we open to curse and swear,
Are not opened wider for creed or prayer;
But that with which the cask we fill,

The same we must draw and the same must spill.
Thou shalt not steal'-the Scriptures tell,
'And for this I grant that you keep it well;
For you carry your plunder and lift your prey,
With your vulture claws, in the face of day;
Gold from the chest your tricks convey:
The calf in the cow is not safe from you,
You take the egg and the hen thereto.

Contenti estote, the preacher has said—
Be content with your ammunition bread.
But the low and the humble 'twere sin to blame,
From the greatest and highest the evil came;
The limbs are bad, but the head as well:
No one his faith or his creed can tell.
FIRST YAGER.

'Sir Priest, the soldier I count fair game;
So, please you, keep clear of the general's name.
CAPUCHIN.

'Ne custodias gregem meam!

He is an Ahab and Jerobeam;

God's people to folly he leads astray,
To idols of falsehood he points the way.

TRUMPETER.

• Let us not hear that twice, I pray.

'CAPUCHIN.

'Such a Bramarbas, with iron hand,

Would spoil the high places throughout the land.
We know, though Christian lips are loth
To repeat the words of his godless oath,
How Stralsund's city he vowed to gain,

Though it held to heaven with bolt and chain.

TRUMPETER.

'Will no man throttle him, once for all?

'CAPUCHIN.

'A wizard, a fiend-invoking Saul

A Jehu, or he whom Judith slew,

By a woman's hand in his cups who died;
Like him who his Master and Lord denied,
Who was deaf to the warning cock that crew---
Like him, when the cock crows, he cannot hear.
FIRST YAGER.
Shaveling liar, thy death is near.
'CAPUCHIN.

'A fox-like Herod in wiles and lies.

TRUMPETER and YAGERS (pressing upon him.)

'The lie in his slanderous throat: he dies.

CROATS (interfering.)

'They shall not harm thee. Discourse thy fill;
Give us thy sermon, and fear no ill.

'CAPUCHIN.

'A Nebuchadnezzar in pride and sin,
Heretic, pagan, his heart within ;
While such a Friedland has command,
The country is ever an unfreed land.

"[During this last speech he has been gradually making his retreat. The CROATS, meanwhile, protecting him from the rest.]-pp. 45-52.

Meantime the knavery of the peasant who had obtained admission to the camp, and who had attempted to cheat some soldiers