The King began talking of what he would do in the future, old Sapt of what he had done in the past, Fritz of some beautiful girl or other, and I of the wonderful merits of the Elphberg dynasty.

We all talked at once, and followed to the letter Sapt's exhortation to let the morrow take care of itself.
At last the King set down his glass and leant back in his chair.
"I have drunk enough," said he.
"Far be it from me to contradict the King," said I.
Indeed, his remark was most absolutely true--so far as it went.
While I yet spoke, Josef came and set before the King a marvellous old wicker-covered flagon.

It had lain so long in some darkened cellar that it seemed to blink in the candlelight.
"His Highness the Duke of Strelsau bade me set this wine before the King, when the King was weary of all other wines, and pray the King to drink, for the love that he bears his brother." "Well done, Black Michael!" said the King.

"Out with the cork, Josef.
Hang him! Did he think I'd flinch from his bottle ?" The bottle was opened, and Josef filled the King's glass.

The King tasted it.