IX.
"Haste!" quoth the hero, "yes, but how?
They come, the brutes!—I hear them now.'
He flew to the window with mickle speed,
There was the pretty pair indeed,
Arm-in-arm in the court below,
O'Blunderbore and his brother O.
"Now then," thought Jack, "I plainly see
I 'm booked for death or liberty;—
Hallo! those cords are 'the jockeys for me.'
X.
Jack was nimble of finger and thumb—
The cords in a moment have halters become
Deft at noosing the speckled trout,
So hath he caught each ill-favoured lout:
He hath tethered the ropes to a rafter tight,
And he tugs and he pulls with all his might,
"Pully-oi! Pully-oi!" till each Yahoo
In the face is black and blue;
Till each Paddy Whack
Is blue and black;
"Now, I think you're done brown," said courageous Jack.
Down the tight rope he slides,
And his good sword hides
In the hearts of the monsters up to the hilt;
So he settled them each:
O'Blunderbore's speech,
Ere he gave up the ghost was, "Och, murder, I'm kilt!"
XI.
The dungeons are burst and the captives freed;
Three princesses were among them found—
Very beautiful indeed;
Their lily white hands were behind them bound:
They were dangling in the air,
Strung up to a hook by their dear "back hair."
Their stomachs too weak
On bubble and squeak,
From their slaughtered lords prepared, to dine
(A delicate rarity);
With horrid barbarity,
The Giants had hung them up there to pine.
