Second Yager monologue — Wallenstein's Camp: A Play

Why, zounds! ask for us wherever you will, Friedland's wild hunt is our title still! Never shaming the name, all undaunted we go Alike through the field of a friend, or a foe; Through the rising stalk, or the yellow corn, Well know they the blast of Holk's Yager horn. In the flash of an eye, we are far or near, Swift as the deluge, or there or here-- As at midnight dark, when the flames outbreak In the silent dwelling where none awake; Vain is the hope in weapons or flight, Nor order nor discipline thwart its might. Then struggles the maid in our sinewy arms, But war hath no pity, and scorns alarms. Go, ask--I speak not with boastful tongue-- In Bareuth, Westphalia, Voigtland, where'er Our troops have traversed--go, ask them there-- Children and children's children long, When hundreds and hundreds of years are o'er, Of Holk will tell and his Yager corps.