CAESAR. Who now, with the ne'er-subdued-one's tread, Hither from yon rocks makes haste to come?-- Ha! if by no vision I'm misled, 'Tis the footstep of a child of Rome.-- Son of Tiber--whence dost thou appear? Stands the seven-hilled city as of yore Oft her orphaned lot awakes my tear, For alas, her Caesar is no more? BRUTUS. Ha! thou with the three-and-twenty wounds! Who hath, dead one, summoned thee to light? Back to gaping Orcus' fearful bonds, Haughty mourner! triumph not to-night! On Philippi's iron altar, lo! Reeks now freedom's final victim's blood; Rome o'er Brutus' bier feels her death-throe,-- He seeks Minos.--Back to thy dark flood! CAESAR. Oh, the death-stroke Brutus' sword then hurled! Thou, too--Brutus--thou? Could this thing be? Son! It was thy father!--Son! the world Would have fallen heritage to thee! Go--'mongst Romans thou art deemed immortal, For thy steel hath pierced thy father's breast. Go--and shout it even to yon portal: "Brutus is 'mongst Romans deemed immortal, For his steel hath pierced his father's breast." Go--thou knowest now what on Lethe's strand Made me a prisoner stand.-- Now, grim steersman, push thy bark from land! BRUTUS. Father, stay!--In all earth's realms so fair, It hath been my lot to know but one, Who with mighty Caesar could compare; And of yore thou called'st him thy son. None but Caesar could a Rome o'erthrow, Brutus only made great Caesar fear; Where lives Brutus, Caesar's blood must flow; If thy path lies yonder, mine is here. From Wallenstein's Camp, scene 1. RECRUIT'S SONG. How sweet the wild sound Of drum and of fife! To roam o'er earth's round, Lead a wandering life, With steed trained aright, And bold for the fight, With a sword by the side, To rove far and wide,-- Quick, nimble, and free As the finch that we see On bushes and trees, Or braving the breeze,-- Huzza, then! the Friedlander's banner for me! From Wallenstein's Camp, scene the last. SECOND CUIRASSIER sings. Up, up, my brave comrades! to horse! to horse! Let us haste to the field and to freedom! To the field, for 'tis there that is proved our hearts' force, 'Tis there that in earnest we need 'em! None other can there our places supply, Each must stand alone,--on himself must rely. CHORUS. None other can there our places supply, Each must stand alone,--on himself must rely. DRAGOON. Now freedom appears from the world to have flown, None but lords and their vassals one traces; While falsehood and cunning are ruling alone O'er the living cowardly races. The man who can look upon death without fear-- The soldier,--is now the sole freeman left here. CHORUS. The man who can look upon death without fear-- The soldier,--is now the sole freeman left here.