The vinous Greek to whom he had addressed
His question, much too merry to divine
The questioner, filled up a glass of wine,
XLIII.
And without turning his facetious head,
Over his shoulder, with a Bacchant air,
Presented the o'erflowing cup, and said,
"Talking's dry work, I have no time to spare."
A second hiccuped, "Our old Master's dead,
You'd better ask our Mistress who's his heir."