I've often met with a fast young friend More ready to borrow than I to lend; I've heard smooth men in election-time Prove every creed, but their own, a crime: Perhaps, if the fast one wished to borrow, I've taken his word to pay "to-morrow"; Perhaps, while Smooth explained his creed, I've thought him the man for the country's need; Perhaps I'm more of a trusting mood Than you suppose; but I think I would Have trusted that man of mail, If I had been the dying king, About as far as you could sling An elephant by the tail! Good subjects then, as now, no doubt, When a king was dead, were eager to shout In time, "God save" the new one! One trouble was always whom to choose Amongst the heirs; for it raised the deuse And ran the subject's neck in a noose, Unless he chose the true one. Another difficult task,--to judge If the coming king would bear a grudge For some old breach of concord, And take the earliest chance to send A trusty line by a trusty friend To give his compliments at the end Of a disagreeable strong cord. And whoever would have must seize his own. Thus a dying king was left alone, With a sad neglect of manners; Ere his breath was out, the courtiers ran, With fear or zeal for "the coming man," In time to escape from under his ban, Or hurry under his banners. So Richard was left in a shabby way To Marcadee, with an abbot to pray And pother with "consolation," Reminding 'twas never too late to search For mercy, and hinting that Mother Church Was never known to leave in the lurch A king with a fat donation. But the abbot was known to Richard well, As one who would smoothen the road to hell, And quite as willing to revel As preach; and he always preached to "soothe," With a mild regard for "the follies of youth,"-- Himself, in epitome, proving the truth Of the world, the flesh, and the Devil. This was the will that Richard made:-- "My body at father's feet be laid; And to Rouen (it loved me most) My heart I give; and I give my ins- Ides to the rascally Poitevins; To the abbot I give my darling--sins; And I give "--He gave up the ghost. The abbot looked grave, but never spoke. The captain laughed, gave the abbot a poke, And, without ado or lingering, "Conveyed" the personals, jewels, and gold, Omitting the formal To Have and to Hold From the royal finger, before it was cold, He slipped the royal finger-ring. There might have been in the eye of the law A something which lawyers would call a flaw Of title in such a conversion: But if weak in the law, he was strong in the hand, And had the "nine points."--He summoned his band, And ordered before him the archer Bertrand, Intending a little diversion.