Читать книгу Wallenstein's Camp - Фридрих Шиллер, Friedrich von Schiller - Страница 5

  Croat, where stole you that necklace, say?

  Get rid of it man – for thee 'tis unmeet:

  Come, take these pistols in change, I pray.

  Nay, nay, Master Shooter, you're trying to cheat.

  Then I'll give you this fine blue cap as well,

  A lottery prize which just I've won:

  Look at the cut of it – quite the swell!

  But this is of pearls and of garnets bright,

  See, how it plays in the sunny light!

  Well, I'll give you to boot, my own canteen —

  I'm in love with this bauble's beautiful sheen.

  See, now! – how cleanly the Croat is done

  Snacks! Master Shooter, and mum's the word.

  I think your cap is a smartish one.

  'Tis a regular swop, as these gents have heard.