The rules of the game they do not understand,
But they go as in a dream, and are dumb.
They would fain say him nay, and they look the other way,
Till at last to the ropes they cling;
But he throws them one by one till the show for them is done,
In the blood-red dust of the ring.
There's none to shun his challenge—they must meet him soon or late,
And he knows a cunning trick for all heels.
The king's haughty crown drops in jeers from his pate
As the hold closes on him, and he reels.