Away from me that lute—a string is broken.
No song will be—but I do trust indeed
One time there will be. This day, o’er filled cups,—
I have drunk too much—rejoice yourselves and play!
And thou Al—manzor, leave my sight, old man!
Away with Halban—leave me here alone.”
He said, and turning by uncertain way,
He found his place, and sank into his chair.
Still threatening somewhat, stamping with his foot,
O’erturned the table with the wine and cups.