Nor spare the ‘unspeakable Turk.’”
With a twist and a twirl, and a sulphurous smell,
He departs with applause at his hoof;
And glancing at Bennet’s, he winds up his tail,
And to Constantinople spins off.
At Berlin he stops for a minute to breathe
And to tell the good news to his cousin:
“The doting ‘old woman’ to me you may leave,
But, dear Biz, you must rub up the Russian.”
He passed by Vienna, Count Andrassy saw him,