But my sad, my deplorable lay,
My reed shall resound with it still:—
How her Majesty died t'other day,
And remember'd me not in her will.
THEODORE OF PUT-KNEE.
| A my bad knee. | D my well leg. |
| B my beard. | E the place where my hair was when I was young. |
| C my crural tendon, | |
| " or muscle— | |
| " or artery— | |
| " or something,—as big as your fist. |