The Merry Monarch; or, K-hthood a Jest. a Tale

When good King Jemmy wore the British crown, A pleasant jest for highest wit went down: A pun, a quibble, a conundrum quaint, Oft made a bishop of a man no saint, Smart repartees pass'd all for sterling coin, And wit was then as unrefin'd as wine: The king himself, so rest his merry soul! Could crack his joke—nor would his mirth controul; But laugh full hearty if the jest were keen, Nor could the care of kingdoms give him spleen.

Thus story tells—As he rode out one day, To chace the stag, he lost, by chance, his way: The courtiers eager, scour the spacious field, While duty there did unto pleasure yield. Alone, King Jemmy, with his usual grace, Kept stepping onward in a common pace. Till near two clowns he came, who work'd full hard, Hedging a close behind a farmer's yard. They spied the king; and, from his aukward mien, Thought he some needy northern laird had been. "Gend men," quoth he—and then he made his bow, "Ken ye which way the nobles rode just now? My business leads me unto our King James." "I know him not, in troth!" quoth one: "it seems He only minds his countrymen, while we Labour thus hard to furnish out their glee."— "Ride on," quoth t'other, "man, you'll find him out, Surrounded by a gaudy Scottish rout: Fear not thy fortune, Jemmy loves a loon, And thou're some starving knight that wants a boon."— "Weel fare ye," quoth the king; "and, o' my weard! Goud character ye to your prince affeurd; And Ise wat weel, it all gangs to his ear."— "Why, then," quoth Dick, "for once the truth he'll hear."

So saying, to a grove that lay in sight, On rode the king, and there thought fit to 'light; Out-stretch'd his royal limbs upon the place, And stept full sweetly on the verdant grass. No policies of state disturb'd his mind, But that good prince snor'd loud as any hind, Until the chace was o'er, and stag was dead, When duty found a place in courtier's head: Nor had the noble train long sought their lord, Ere fast they found him on the gay green-sward. Hasty they then from reeking coursers spring; While, with a smile, up rose the jocund king.

"My lords," quoth he, "as you rid yonder by, Did you not, hedging, twa auld carles spy, In leather doublets clad?"—"My liege, we did," Quoth one— "See then," said he, "them hither lead." Straight they obey'd; and, as they dragg'd each clown, "Ads me!" quoth Dick to Ralph, "we're both undone! You man we took for some poor begging knight, Is the king's grace."—"Ods fish," quoth Ralph, "you're right. We shall be hang'd! What will become of Sue! She'll pine to death."— "And so will Margery too.'

Them at a distance when the monarch spied, He took the whynyard from his martial side; Behind him on the ground it's point he stay'd, As not much caring to survey the blade: Low on their knees the trembling wretches crawl, And sweat with fear their heads should lower fall. "Your names," quoth Jemmy, in an angry tone; "Mine is poor Dick!"—"Mine Ralph, a sorry clown!"— "Weel," quoth the king, and gave their necks a strap, "Sir Ralph!—Sir Richard!—ye may both get up: Now knights ye are; and, o' my soul! I ween, Twa peurer knights in Scotland ne'er were seen." A loud applause the fawning crowd express'd, To see two titles to—to make one jest,