'The cat, the rat, and Lovel, the dog,
Rule all England under the hog.'
But we paid the poet handsomely. Kings should be always bountiful to poets. Good Sir John Collingburn, he little thought that he should be hanged for the cat, drawn for the rat, and quartered for Lovel the dog--Ha, ha, ha! It is very good."
At that moment, the queen's lips moved; and, raising her eyes towards heaven, she began to sing a sweet and plaintive air, in a very musical voice:
"The castle stood on a hill side,
Hey ho, hey ho,
And there came frost in the summer tide,
Hey ho, the wind and the snow.
"A boy looked from the casement there,
Hey ho, hey ho,
And his face was like an angel's fair;