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Lind.
My friend!
Falk.
Ah, ditto.
Lind.
Falk, your hand! The tide
Of joy's so vehement, it will perforce
Break out—
Falk.
Hullo there; you must first be tried;
Sentence and hanging follow in due course.
Now, what on earth's the matter? To conceal
From me, your friend, this treasure of your finding;
For you'll confess the inference is binding:
You've come into a prize off Fortune's wheel!
Lind.
I've snared and taken Fortune's blessed bird!
Falk.
How? Living,—and undamaged by the steel?
Lind.
Patience; I'll tell the matter in one word.
I am engaged! Conceive—!
Falk [quickly].
Engaged!