strange fellow!
Wild, churlish, angry--_why_, I know not, seek not.
Would that the wine were come! my doublet's wet,
But my throat dry as Summer's drought in desarts.
Ah--here it sparkles!

_Enter_ JOSEPHA _with wine in flask--and a cup. As she pours
it out a Voice is heard without calling at a distance_.
WERNER _starts_--JOSEPHA _listens tremulously_.

_Werner_. That voice--that voice--Hark!
No--no--tis silent--Sir--I say--that voice--
Whose is it--speak--

_Carl_ (_drinking unconcernedly_).
Whose is it? faith, I know not--
And, yet, 'tis my companion's: he's like you,
And does not care to tell his name and station. 100
[_The voice again and nearer_.

_Josepha_. 'Tis his--I knew it--Ulric!--Ulric!--Ulric!
[_She drops the wine and rushes out_.

_Carl_. The flask's unhurt--but every drop is spilt.
Confound the voice! I say--would he were dumb!
And faith! to me, he has been nearly so--
A silent and unsocial travelling mate.

_Werner_ (_stands in agitation gazing towards the door_).
If it be he--I cannot move to meet him.
Yes--it must be so--there is no such voice
That so could sound and shake me: he is here,
And I am--

_Enter_ STRALENHEIM.

_Werner_ (_turns and sees him_). A curse upon thee, stranger!
Where dids't thou learn a tone so like my boy's? 110
Thou mock bird of my hopes--a curse upon thee!
Out! Out! I say. Thou shalt not harbour here.

_Stralenheim_. What means the peasant? knows he unto whom
He dares address this language?

_Carl_. Noble Sir!
Pray heed him not--he's Phrenzy's next door neighbour,
And full of these strange starts and causeless jarrings.

_Werner_. Oh, that long wished for voice!--I dreamed of it--
And then it did elude me--then--and now.

_Enter_ ULRIC _and_ JOSEPHA. WERNER _falls on his neck_.

Oh God! forgive, for thou dids't not forget me.
Although I murmured--tis--it is my Son! 120

_Josepha_. Aye, 'tis dear Ulric--yet, methinks, he's changed, too:
His cheek is tanned, his frame more firmly knit!
That scar, too, dearest Ulric--I do fear me--
Thou hast been bat