FIRST PART OF WALLENSTEIN.
111
NEUMANN.
Fy, fy! you should not say so, friend. There are among them our very best generals, and those on whom the Duke at this moment relies the most.
MASTER OF THE CELLAR.
(Taking the flask out of the Runner's pocket.)
My son, it will be broken to pieces in your pocket.
(Tertsky hurries in, fetches away the paper, and calls to a servant for pen and ink, and goes to the back of the stage.)
MASTER OF THE CELLAR. (to the servants.)
The Lieutenant-General stands up.—Be on the watch.—Now! They break up.—Off, and move back the forms!
(They rise at all the tables, the servants hurry off the front of the stage to the tables; part of the guests come forward.)
SCENE
