"And I know who it is.

Your son Satabus, or one of your grandsons.

Else why are the ducks cooked?
And for what is the wine jar which I just took from its hiding place ?" A vehement gesture of denial from Tabus contradicted the girl's conjecture; but directly after she scanned her with a keen, searching glance, and said: "No, no.

We have nothing to fear from you, surely.
Poor Abus! Through him you will always belong to us.

In spite of the Greek, ours you are and ours you will remain.