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Guldstad [conversing with Stiver].
'Tis a fine evening.
Stiver.
Very likely,—when
A man's disposed—
Guldstad [facetiously].
What, all not running smooth
In true love's course?
Stiver.
Not that exactly—
Falk [coming up].
Then
With your engagement?
Stiver.
That's about the truth.
Falk.
Hurrah! Your spendthrift pocket has a groat
Or two still left, it seems, of poetry.
Stiver [stiffly].
I cannot see what poetry has got
To do with my engagement, or with me.
Falk.
You are not meant to see; when lovers prove
What love is, all is over with their love.
