Then wild cries rose from the people-- "He is right" were many saying; "To the devil with our rulers! Burn these damned taxation-papers! All these scribblers may look out soon If this flame can be extinguished With the fluid in their inkstands." Said another: "Thou, oh governor, Didst consign me to a dungeon; Poor my fare, with only water! Thou hast wine within thy cellar, And I hope we now shall try it. Yes, with thee I'll square accounts soon!" Said a third one: "Thee my musket, Which has brought down many woodcocks, I shall use for nobler sport soon. Then hit well! For we'll be shooting At the great black double eagle." Thus a murmur through the crowd went. Just as when the plague is raging, Everywhere infection spreadeth, So were all the peasants' hearts now Filled with passion and blind wrath. And in vain spoke the experienced Villaringen elder, Balthes: "If a horse's tail is bridled, Not his mouth, no one can drive him. If the peasant seeks for justice By revolt, all will go badly; In the end he gets a thrashing. Hence of old we were commanded To obey the ruling powers, And--" but now in voluntary Was he stopped in his sage counsels: "Turn him out, this old fool Balthes! May God damn him! He is faithless; He's a traitor to his country!" Thus they howled out, stones were flying, Spears were threatening, and his friends could Hardly get him off in safety. "To be short, what use of speaking?" Fridli said, of Bergalingen. "Who are faithful to our old rights And will go for them to battle, Raise their hands high!" And they raised them All, while loud hurrahs they shouted. Arms are clanking, flags are waving, Battle-cries--the drums are beating. And that day large bands were marching From the hills toward the river To attack the forest-cities. In the forest from the fir-tree Looked the wood-sprite Meysenhartus, Mocking at the peasants' army, Said: "A lucky journey to you! No need I should now mislead you, As you choose yourselves the wrong track!"