I'd small luck there. Strict discipline sternly ruled the day, Nor dared we a foeman's force display; They set us to guard the imperial forts, And plagued us all with the farce of the courts. War they waged as a jest 'twere thought-- And but half a heart to the business brought, They would break with none; and thus 'twas plain Small honor among them could a soldier gain. So heartily sick in the end grew I That my mind was the desk again to try; When suddenly, rattling near and far, The Friedlander's drum was heard to war. (SERGEANT: And how long here may you mean to stay?) You jest, man. So long as he bears the sway, By my soul! not a thought of change have I; Where better than here could the soldier lie? Here the true fashion of war is found, And the cut of power's on all things round; While the spirit whereby the movement's given Mightily stirs, like the winds of heaven, The meanest trooper in all the throng. With a hearty step shall I tramp along On a burgher's neck as undaunted tread As our general does on the prince's head. As 'twas in the times of old 'tis now, The sword is the sceptre, and all must bow. One crime alone can I understand, And that's to oppose the word of command. What's not forbidden to do make bold, And none will ask you what creed you hold. Of just two things in this world I wot, What belongs to the army and what does not, To the banner alone is my service brought.

First Yager Monologue from Wallenstein's Camp: A Play

Rehearse First Yager's monologue