One day a mother came to him,
To claim an only son,
An infant only nine days old,
And thus in tears begun:—
“My lord, O king, behold and see,
This woman by my side!
She had a son the age of mine,
But in the night he died.
“No one was with us in the house,
So she was not afraid
To place her dead child, while I slept,
Where my dear boy was laid.
“And when I woke, at early dawn,
To nurse my little son,
I thought my darling dead, but soon
I saw what she had done.”
“It is not so,” the woman cried,
“The dead boy let her bring,
That is her child, the living one
Belongs to me, O king!”
“Bring in a sword!” said Solomon,
“Now cut the child in two!
We’ll give the other woman half,
One half belongs to you.”
Joyful the wicked woman spoke,
“But half the babe is thine;
O righteous king divide the boy,
And let one half be mine.”
Her bowels yearning for her son,
The mother quick replied,
“No, take the living child for thine,
Give me the one that died.
“O king, in pity, spare my boy,
And let him not be slain!
Thy handmaid then will hasten home,
Nor trouble thee again.”
“In nowise slay or hurt the babe,”
King Solomon replied,
“The mother’s heart shall plead for her,
Give her the living child!”