Monsieur Ballon.
You are Norwegian?
Peer.
Yes, by birth;
But cosmopolitan in spirit.
For fortune such as I've enjoyed
I have to thank America.
My amply-furnished library
I owe to Germany's later schools.
From France, again, I get my waistcoats,
My manners, and my spice of wit,—
From England an industrious hand,
And keen sense for my own advantage.
The Jew has taught me how to wait.
Some taste for dolce far niente[1] I have received from Italy,— And one time, in a perilous pass, To eke the measure of my days, I had recourse to Swedish steel. Trumpeterstråle.
[Lifting up his glass.]
Ay, Swedish steel? Von Eberkopf. The weapon's wielder Demands our homage first of all!
[They clink glasses and drink with him. The wine begins to go to his head.
Mr. Cotton.
All this is very good indeed;—
But, sir,[1] I'm curious to know
What with your gold you think of doing.
- ↑ So in original.
