Fill me a bumper till it overflows,
And then I’ll draw the worms out of their nose,
As easily as ’twere an infant’s tooth.
To me they seem to be of noble blood,
They look so discontented and so proud.
Brander.
Quack doctors both!—Altmayer, what think you?
Altmayer.
’Tis like.
Frosch.