Lansquenet

[…] arising out of this festival there was established an individual lansquenet tradition, in speech and outward appearance, and the bare, sunburnt necks of the vagabond soldiers, their baggy garments hanging in shreds, and their short swords, could be seen all over the country for long afterwards.

Ruthless killing, wanton strife / Add up to a lanzknecht’s life.

I have never really been outdoorsy enough to make a mercenary landsknecht, although their immense two-handed swords, flowing moustaches and puffed-silk slashed sleeves take some beating.

“I'm through with all pawn-games,” I laughed. “Come, let us have a game of lansquenet. Either I will take a farewell fall out of you or you will have your sevenfold revenge”.

One could see part of the dimly lit court where under an enclosed poplar two soldiers on a stone bench were playing lansquenet.

And so it was over the game of lansquenet that I scored my first triumph.