Till a sparkling bubbling head they afford,
So sorrow is cheer'd by being pour'd
From one vessel into another.
CCXCIX.
But a friend or gossip she had not one
To hear the vile deeds that the Count had done,
How night after night he rambled;
And how she had learn'd by sad degrees
That he drank, and smoked, and worse than these,
That he "swindled, intrigued, and gambled."