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.