Page:Wallenstein, a drama in 2 parts - Schiller (tr. Coleridge) (1800).djvu/141

 Art in thy senses? For heaven's sake, Illo! think where you are!

What do you mean?—There are none but friends here, are there? (looks round the whole circle with a jolly and triumphant air.) Not a sneaker amongst us, thank heaven!

Take him off with you, force him off, I entreat you, Butler!

Field-marshal! a word with you. (leads to the side-board.)

A thousand for one. Fill—Fill it once more up to the brim. To this gallant man's health!

Slow and sure, my noble brother!—Hast parsed it all yet?—Some words yet to go thro'?—Ha?—

What am I to do?

Let it stay till to-morrow. It is business— to-day I am not sufficiently collected. Send it to me to-morrow. Rh