"The ould King was very starn, bekase he knewn it was only an axcuse she was afther makin,’ an’ she was lookin’ that he’d be sayin’ somethin’ about the young Kings an’ was afther dodgin’ as long as she cud. So whin he shpoke so crass, she riz up aff the sate, for it was a fib she was tellin’, an’ she didn’t shwape the kitchen at all, an’ that was done be wan av the maids, an’ gev a sigh, an’ wint in the ould King’s room. "An’ there was the ould King on his throne, his crown on his head, shmokin’ his goolden dhudeen wid a glass o’ grog at his side, as detarmined as he cud be. ’I’m wantin’ to know,’ says he, ’phat you’re afther goin’ to do,’ says he, ’in regârds av the young Kings,’ says he. "’Phat’s that you’re sayin’, Father?’ says she, mighty shly, as lettin’ on not to see phat he was drivin’ at. The ould King repated his statemint. "’Troth, then, I dunno, Father,’ says she. "’Do you mane to marry thim, at all, at all?’ says he. "’Not all o’ thim,’ says she, shmilin’. "’Well, which wan o’ thim?’ says he. "’How can I tell?’ says she. "’Has any o’ thim axed ye?’ says he. "’Hasn’t they all?’ says she. "’An’ which wan do ye love besht?’ says he. "’Sure how do I know?’ says she, an’ sorra a word more cud he get from her be all the queshtions he cud ax. "But he tuk a dale av bother an’ thin gev it up an’ says to her, ’Go an’ get the supper,’ says he, ’come in the throne-room afther brekquest wid yer mind made.’ But he was afeard she’d give him throuble fur it was the cool face she had, an’ afther she was gone he set his crown over wan ear an’ scrotched his head like a tinant on quarther day widout a pinny in his pocket, bekase he knewn that whoever the gurrul tuk, the other five Kings cud make throuble. "So the next mornin’, the Princess towld him phat she’d do, an’ whin the Kings come that night, he walks into the kitchen where they were shmokin’, an’ makin’ a low bow, he says, ’God save ye,’ an’ they all riz an’ says, ’God save yer Holiness.’ So he says, ’Bridget, go to bed immejitly, I’ll shpake to the jintlemin.’ An’ she wint away, lettin’ an to shmile an’ consale her face, ’t was the divil av a sharp gurrul she was, an’ the ould King set on the table an’ towld thim phat she’d do. He towld thim they must play fair, an’ they said they would, an’ thin he towld thim the Princess wanted to see which was the besht man, so they must have shports in her prisence, an’ the next day afther the shports they’d find out who she was goin’ to marry. So they all aggrade, an’ wint home at wanst to get ready fur the shports. "Faith, it ’ud ’uv done the sowl av ye good the next day to see the whole av Ireland at the shports whin the contist bechune the Kings kem.