one stroke of your foot, as beat this absurdity out of him.
Dart. But you are too violent: it will not be beat out; it must be got out as it got in, with craft and discretion.
Walt. Then devil take me for attempting it! for craft I have none, and discretion is a thing
Dart. You will never have any thing to do with, I believe.
Walt. What then is to be done? If it were not that I cannot brook to see the conceited overbearing son of this Jezebel, carrying off the mistress of Antonio, I would even let the old fool sit under the tickling of her thievish fingers, and make as great a noodle of himself as he pleases.—But it must not be.—Fie upon it, Dartz! thou hast a good head for invention, while I, heaven help me! have only a good tongue for railing; do thou contrive some plot or other to prevent the disgrace of thy friend.
Dart. Plots are not easily contrived.
Walt. I know this, else I should have tried it myself.
Dart. Are you well acquainted with the Count?
Walt. I am but just come to the castle, where I have thrust myself in, though an unwelcome guest, to look after the interest of De Bertrand; and should be glad to know something more of the man who has so much intoxicated the gay Livia. What kind of a being is he?
