And reckon a groat every guilder disbursed.
What marvel if wags, while the skinker fast brimmed
Their glass with rare tipple's enticement, should gloat
—Befooled and beflustered—through optics drink-dimmed—
On this draught and that, till each found in his throat
Our Rhenish smack rightly as Raphal? For, note—
They fancied—their fuddling deceived them so grossly—
That liquor sprang out of the table itself
Through gimlet-holes drilled there,—nor noticed how closely