No More Learning

_Iden. _ Now, how much do you reckon on?

_Gab. _ I have not yet put up myself to sale:
In the mean time, my best reward would be
A glass of your[166] Hockcheimer--a _green_ glass,
Wreathed with rich grapes and Bacchanal devices,
O'erflowing with the oldest of your vintage:
For which I promise you, in case you e'er
Run hazard of being drowned, (although I own
It seems, of all deaths, the least likely for you,) 300
I'll pull you out for nothing. Quick, my friend,
And think, for every bumper I shall quaff,
A wave the less may roll above your head.

_Iden. _ (_aside_). I don't much like this fellow--close and dry
He seems,--two things which suit me not; however,
Wine he shall have; if that unlocks him not,
I shall not sleep to-night for curiosity. [_Exit_ IDENSTEIN.

_Gab. _ (_to_ WERNER). This master of the ceremonies is
The intendant of the palace, I presume:
'Tis a fine building, but decayed.

_Wer. _ The apartment 310
Designed for him you rescued will be found
In fitter order for a sickly guest.

_Gab.
_ I wonder then you occupied it not,
For you seem delicate in health.

_Wer. _ (_quickly_). Sir!

_Gab. _ Pray
Excuse me: have I said aught to offend you?

_Wer. _ Nothing: but we are strangers to each other.

_Gab. _ And that's the reason I would have us less so:
I thought our bustling guest without had said
You were a chance and passing guest, the counterpart
Of me and my companions.

_Wer. _ Very true. 320

_Gab. _ Then, as we never met before, and never,
It may be, may again encounter, why,
I thought to cheer up this old dungeon here
(At least to me) by asking you to share
The fare of my companions and myself.

_Wer. _ Pray, pardon me; my health----

_Gab.