That to our sorrow for these five days; since
It keeps us here.

Iden.
But what you don't know is,
That a great personage, who fain would cross
Against the stream and three postilions' wishes,
Is drown'd below the ford, with five post-horses,
A monkey, and a mastiff, and a valet.

Yes, of the monkey,

Jos. Poor creatures! are you sure?
Iden.
And the valet, and the cattle; but as yet
We know not if his excellency's dead
Or no; your noblemen are hard to drown,
As it is fit that men in office should be;
But what is certain is, that he has swallow'd
Enough of the Oder to have burst two peasants;
And now a Saxon and Hungarian traveller,
Who, at their proper peril, snatch'd him from
The whirling river, have sent on to crave
A lodging, or a grave, according as

It may turn out with the live or dead body.

say the word.

Jos. And where will you receive him? here, I hope,
If we can be of service.
[ment,
Iden. Here? no; but in the prince's own apart-
As fits a noble guest:-'tis damp, no doubt,
Not having been inhabited these twelve years;
But then he comes from a much damper place,
So scarcely will catch cold in't, if he be
Still liable to cold-and if not, why

He'll be worse lodged to-morrow: ne'ertheless,
I have order'd fire and all appliances
To be got ready for the worst- that is,
In case he should survive.

Jos.

Poor gentleman!

I hope he will, with all my heart.

Wer.

Intendant,

Have you not learn'd his name? My Josephine,

Retire: I'll sift this fool.

Iden.

[Aside to his wife.

[Exit JOSEPHINE.

His name? oh Lord!

Who knows if he hath now a name or no? 'Tis time enough to ask it when he's able To give an answer; or if not, to put

His heir's upon his epitaph. Methought

Just now you chid me for demanding names?
Wer. True, true, I did so; you say well and wisely.

Enter GABOR. (1)

Gab. If I intrude, I crave

Iden.

Oh, no intrusion !

This is the palace; this a stranger like
Yourself; I pray you make yourself at home:
But where's his excellency? and how fares he?

Gab. Wetly and wearily, but out of peril :
He paused to change his garments in a cottage,
(Where I doff'd mine for these, and came on hither)
And has almost recover'd from his drenching.

He will be here anon.

(1) [Some faults the poem has only in common with the original. Gabor is a most inexplicable personage: he is always on the point of turning out something more than he proves to be. A sort of mysterious horror is thrown around his impalpability, in the tale; but, in the drama, he is only a sentimental, moody, high-mettled soldier of fortune, whose appearances and disappearances are alike singularly inopportune, and who ends in a mere mercenary. His character is, we think, decidedly a failure. - ECL REV.]

Iden.

What ho, there! bustle!

Without there, Herman, Weilburg, Peter, Conrad!

[Gives directions to different servants who enter. A nobleman sleeps here to-night-see that All is in order in the damask chamber

Keep up the stove-I will myself to the cellar-
And Madame Idenstein (my consort, stranger,)
Shall furnish forth the bed-apparel; for,

To say the truth, they are marvellous scant of this
Within the palace precincts, since his highness
Left it some dozen years ago. And then
His excellency will sup, doubtless?

Gab.

Faith!

I cannot tell; but I should think the pillow
Would please him better than the table after
His soaking in your river: but for fear
Your viands should be thrown away, I mean
To sup myself, and have a friend without
Who will do honour to your good cheer with
A traveller's appetite.

To save a man's life whom you do not know.

Gab. Not so; for there are some I know so well,

I scarce should give myself the trouble.

Iden.

Good friend, and who may you be?

Pray,

Iden. (aside). I think that all the world are grown

anonymous,

Since no one cares to tell me what he's call'd!

Pray, has his excellency a large suite?

Gab.

Iden. How many?

Gab.

Sufficient.

I did not count them. We came up by mere accident, and just In time to drag him through his carriage window. Iden. Well, what would I give to save a great man! No doubt you'll have a swinging sum as recompense. Gab. Perhaps.

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 Hockcheimer your

-

a green glass, Wreath'd 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 drown'd, (although I own It seems, of all deaths, the least likely for you,) 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 cere

monies is

The intendant of the palace, I presume:

'Tis a fine building, but decay'd.

Wer.

The apartment

Design'd 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).

Gab.

Sir !

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.

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.

Even as you please. I have been a soldier, and perhaps am blunt

In bearing.

Wer. I have also served, and can Requite a soldier's greeting.