What boots it to tell of the viands, or how she Apologiz'd much for their plain water-souchy, Want of Harvey's, and Cross's, And Burgess's sauces? Or how Rupert, on his side, protested, by Jove, he Preferred his fish plain, without soy or anchovy. Suffice it the meal Boasted trout, perch, and eel, Besides some remarkably fine salmon peel. The Knight, sooth to say, thought much less of the fishes Than of 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, The table was clear'd, and they put on fresh glasses; Then the lady addrest 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; But that keeping good cheer Every day in the year, And drinking neat wines all the same as small-beer, Had exhausted his rent, And, his money all spent, How he borrow'd large sums at two hundred per cent.; How they follow'd--and then, The once civillest 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, How he jump'd in the river to finish his woes! Lurline was affected, and own'd, with a tear, That a story so mournful had ne'er met her ear; Rupert, hearing her sigh, Look'd uncommonly sly, And said, with some emphasis, "Ah! miss, had I A few pounds of those metals You waste here on kettles, Then, Lord once again Of my spacious domain, A free Count of the Empire once more I might reign, With Lurline at my side, My adorable bride, (For the parson should come, and the knot should be tied;) No couple so happy on earth should be seen As Sir Rupert the brave and his charming Lurline; Not that money's my object--No, hang it! I scorn it-- And as for my rank--but that _you'd_ so adorn it-- I'd abandon it all To remain your true thrall, And, instead of 'the _Great_,' be call'd 'Rupert the _Small_;' --To gain but your smiles, were I Sardanapalus, I'd descend from my throne, and be boots at an alehouse."[23] Lurline hung her head, Turned pale, and then red, Growing faint at this sudden proposal to wed, As though his abruptness, in "popping the question" So soon after dinner, disturb'd her digestion.