"You blackguard!" cries the rural wench, My Lady screams-"Ah! bête !" And Lady Thrifty scolds in French, And Cis in Billingsgate ; Till both their Lords my Second try To end connubial strife, Sir Thrifty has the means to die, XV. LORD RONALD by the gay torch-light He broached my First, that jovial Knight, The red stream went from wood to can And the deuce a man knew how it ran Nor heeded north or south: "Let the health go wide," Lord Ronald cried, As he saw the river flow ; "One cup to-night to the noblest bride, And one to the stoutest foe!" Lord Ronald kneeled, when the morning came, Low in his mistress' bower; And she gave him my Second, that beauteous dame, For a spell in danger's hour; Her silver shears were not at hand; And she smiled a playful smile, As she cleft it with her lover's brand, And "Ride, and ride!" Lord Ronald cried, As he kissed its auburn glow; "For he that woos the noblest bride Must beard the stoutest foe!" Lord Ronald stood, when the day shone fair, In his garb of glittering mail, And marked how my Whole was crumbling there With the battle's iron hail : The bastion and the battlement On many a craven crown Like rocks from some huge mountain rent As he bade his trumpets blow; "I shall win to-day the noblest bride, Or fall by the stoutest foe!" XVI. I GRACED Don Pedro's revelry, Were met to feast together; And this that gallant Spaniard did He vowed a vow, that noble Knight, Before he went to table, To make his only sport the fight, His only couch the stable, Till he had dragged, as he was bid, Five score of Turks to Cadiz,And this that gallant Spaniard did For me, and for the Ladies. |