“Is the Head below?”

“I’ll tell him you want him, ma’am,” says the policeman.

“Do,” says the Queen. “Hello,” says she, as a slip of paper dhropped out o’ the dispatches. “What’s this? ‘Lines to Mary.’ Ho! ho! me gay fella, that’s what you’ve been up to, is it?”

“Mrs. Brady Is a widow lady, And she has a charmin’ daughter I adore; I went to court her Across the water, And her mother keeps a little candy-store. She’s such a darlin’, She’s like a starlin’, And in love with her I’m gettin’ more and more, Her name is Mary, She’s from Dunlary; And her mother keeps a little candy-store.”

“That settles it,” says the Queen. “It’s the gaoler you’ll serenade next.”

When Essex heard that, he thrimbled so much that the button of his cuirass shook off and rowled under the dhressin’-table.

“Arrest that man,” says the Queen, when the Head-Constable came to the door; “arrest that thrayter,” says she, “and never let me set eyes on him again.”

And, indeed, she never did, and soon after that he met with his death from the skelp of an axe he got when he was standin’ on Tower Hill.