Trast. Are waiting for you, eh?
Lothar. (Staring at him) Exactly! (As he goes) What sort of a count is he? (Turns at the door and bows stiffly, clicking his heels and goes out)
Leonore. You have been away from home a long time, Herr Count?
Trast. I have inhabited the tropics for a quarter century.
Leonore. For pleasure?
Trast. As much as possible. Meanwhile I have been speculator in coffee, cloves and ivory, and elephant-hunter.
Leonore. (Laughing) In which of your many capacities am I to welcome you then, you many-gifted man?
Trast. You may take your choice, Gnadiges Fraulein.
Wilhelm. (At the door) The Herr Councillor is at your disposal.
Robert. I must----