SIR RUPERT THE FEARLESS. A LEGEND OF GERMANY. R. HARRIS BARHAM. SIR RUPERT the Fearless, a gallant young knight, Crack a crown, or a bottle, Cut sirloin, or throttle; In brief, or as Hume says, "to sum up the tottle," All his neighbors pronounced him a preux chevalier. Despite these perfections, corporeal and mental, He'd scarce sleep a wink in A night, but addict himself sadly to drinking; Is as naughty-to play, To Rouge et Noir, Hazard, Short Whist, Ecarté ; Brought the Knight to the end of his slender finances. When at length through his boozing, And tenants refusing Their rents, swearing "times were so bad they were losing," His steward said, “O, sir, It's some time ago, sir, Since aught through my hands reach'd the baker or grocer, And the tradesmen in general are grown great complainers." Sir Rupert the brave thus address'd his retainers: "My friends, since the stock Of my father's old hock Is out, with the Kürchwasser, Barsac, Moselle, And we 're fairly reduced to the pump and the well, For each to shake hands with his friends ere he goes, As to me, I opine, Left sans money or wine, My best way is to throw myself into the Rhine, Where pitying trav'lers may sigh, as they cross over, 'Though he lived a roué, yet he died a philosopher.' The Knight, having bow'd out his friends thus politely, By the light of whose beam, He soon spied on the stream A dame, whose complexion was fair as new cream; Cover'd ankles and toes, In other respects she was scanty of clothes; For, so says tradition, both written and oral, Her one garment was loop'd up with bunches of coral. Full sweetly she sang to a sparkling guitar, Who, amazed at the sight, Soon found his astonishment merged in delight; But the stream by degrees Now rose up to her knees, Till at length it invaded her very chemise, While the heavenly strain, as the wave seem'd to swallow her And slowly she sank, sounded fainter and hollower; --Jumping up in his boat And discarding his coat, Here goes," cried Sir Rupert, "by jingo I'll follow her!" Then into the water he plunged with a souse That was heard quite distinctly by those in the house. Down, down, forty fathom and more from the brink, And, as downward he goes, Still the cold water flows Through his ears, and his eyes, and his mouth, and his nose, But oh! what a sight Met the eyes of the Knight, When he stood in the depth of the stream bolt upright!A grand stalactite hall, Like the cave of Fingal, Rose above and about him;-great fishes and small Would scarcely find buyers, Though hundreds of passengers doubtless would stop But little reck'd Rupert these queer-looking brutes, That crawled up his boots, For a sight, beyond any of which I've made mention, A huge crystal bath, which, with water far clearer Than George Robins' filters, or Thorpe's (which are dearer), Have ever distill'd, To the summit was fill'd, Lay stretch'd out before him-and every nerve thrill'd Till the vision a perfect quandary put him in;— They came floating about him like so many prawns. Sir Rupert, who (barring the few peccadilloes To feel rather queer, as a modest young man; My name is Lurline, And the ladies you've seen, All do me the honor to call me their Queen; I'm delighted to see you, sir, down in the Rhine here, And hope you can make it convenient to dine here." The Knight blush'd, and bow'd, As he ogled the crowd Of subaqueous beauties, then answer'd aloud: Of some decentish fish, And our water's thought fairish; but here in the Rhine, I can't say we pique ourselves much on our wine." The Knight made a bow more profound than before, Rupert tender'd his arm, led Lurline to her place, What boots it to tell of the viands, or how she And Burgess's sauces? Or how Rupert, on his side, protested, by Jove, he Boasted trout, perch, and eel, Besides some remarkably fine salmon peel. The Knight, sooth to say, thought much less of the fishes Than what they were served on, the massive gold dishes; While his eye, as it glanced now and then on the girls, Was caught by their persons much less than their pearls, And a thought came across him and caused him to muse, If I could but get hold Of some of that gold, I might manage to pay off my rascally Jews!" When dinner was done, at a sign to the lasses, Her redoubtable guest Much as Dido, of old, did the pious Eneas, "Dear sir, what induced you to come down and see us?"— Rupert gave her a glance most bewitchingly tender, Loll'd back in his chair, put his toes on the fender, And told her outright How that he, a young Knight, Had never been last at a feast or a fight; Every day in the year, And drinking neat wines all the same as small-beer, And, his money all spent, How he borrow'd large sums at two hundred per cent.; How they follow'd-and then, The once civilest of men, Messrs. Howard and Gibbs, made him bitterly rue it he 'd ever raised money by way of annuity; And, his mortgages being about to foreclose, Lurline was affected, and own'd, with a tear, Look'd uncommonly sly, And said, with some emphasis, "Ah! miss, had I You waste here on kettles, Then, Lord once again Of my spacious domain, A free Count of the Empire once more I might reign |