"It is." Ernest quoted:
"Dust is he and dust his brother;
They all follow one another."
"They're all dust now," the skipper said. "Did they have a revolution, finally, that killed everybody off?"
"Both sides—the rulers and the ruled, simultaneously? Maybe so." Ernest sorted through his pieces of paper. "There's this one, with its inference of the death of royalty along with that of the common man:
"Comes the King! O hear him rustle;
Falter, step, and wither, muscle."
The skipper was beginning to be exasperated again.
"I'll be in my cabin," he said. "You seem to accomplish more when I keep out of your way. But if you want to join me in a little whiskey to keep the falters and withers at bay, come along."