I'm myself, as the saying goes, fairly cleaned out[1]
The Old Man.
You surely can't mean it? His Highness a beggar?
Peer.
Completely. His Highness's ego's in pawn.
And it's all your fault, you accursed trolls!
That's what comes of keeping bad company.
The Old Man.
So there came my hope toppling down from its perch again!
Good-bye! I had best struggle on to the town
Peer.
What would you do there?
The Old Man.
I will go to the theatre.
The papers are clamouring for national talents
Peer.
Good luck on your journey; and greet them from me.
If I can but get free, I will go the same way.
A farce I will write them, a mad and profound one;
It's name shall be: "Sic transit gloria mundi."
[He runs off along the road; the Old Man shouts after him.
- ↑ Literally, "On a naked hill."
