I.
Safe and sound o'er leagues of ground
Jack so merrily capers away,
Till Arthur's son (he had but one)
He runs against at the close of day.
The Prince, you know, was going to blow
A conjuror's castle about his ears,
Who bullied there a lady fair,
And I don't know how many worthy peers.
Said Jack, "My lord, my trusty sword
And self at your princely feet I lay;
'T is my desire to be your squire:"
His Royal Highness replied "You may."
The Prince was suave, and comely, and brave,
And freely scattered his money about;
"Tipped" every one he met like fun,
And so he was very soon "cleared out."
Then he turned to Jack, and cried "Good lack!
I wonder how we 're to purchase 'grub?'"
Said Jack so free, "Leave that to me,
Your Royal Highness's faithful 'sub.'"
Now night came on, and Arthur's son
Asked "Where the dickens are we to lodge?"
"Sir," answered Jack, "your brain do n't rack,
You may trust to me for a crafty 'dodge:'
A Giant high lives here hard by;
The monster I've the pleasure to know:
Three heads he's got, and would send to pot
Five hundred men!" The Prince said, "Oh!"
"My lord," Jack said, "I 'll pledge my head
To manage the matter completely right.
In the Giant's nest to-night we 'll rest,
As sure as a gun, or—blow me tight!"
Off scampers Jack, the Prince aback
With his palfrey waits beneath a rock;
At the castle-gate, at a footman's rate,
Jack hammers and raps with a stylish knock.
II.
Rat-tat-tat-tat, tat-tat,—
"Rather impudent that,"
Said Jack to himself; "but I do n't care!"
The Giant within,
Alarmed at the din,
Roared out like thunder, "I say, who's there!"
"Only me," whispered Jack. Cried the Giant, "Who's me?"
Pitching his voice in a treble key.
"Your poor cousin Jack," said the hero. "Eh!"
Said the Giant, "what news, cousin Jack, to-day?"
"Bad," answered Jack, "as bad can be."
"Pooh!" responded the Giant; "fiddle-de-dee!
I wonder what news can be bad to me!
What! an't I a Giant whose heads are three,
And can't I lick five hundred men?
Do n't talk to me of bad tidings, then!"
III.
"Alas!" Jack whimpered, "uncle dear,
The Prince of Wales is coming here,
Yourself to kill, and your castle to sack,—
Two thousand knights are at his back.
If I tell you a lie never credit me more."
The Giant replied, "What a deuce of a bore!
But I 'll hide in my cellar,
And, like a good 'feller,'
You'll lock it and bolt it, and bar it secure."
Jack answered, "I will;
Only keep yourself still."
Said the Giant, "Of that, my boy, be sure."
IV.