'Not a one o' me knows, plaze your majesty.'
'I think he must be a furriner,' says the king; 'bekase his dhress is outlandish.'
'And doesn't know manners, more betoken,' says the lord.
'I'll go down and circumspect him myself,' says the king; 'folly me,' says he to the lord, wavin' his hand at the same time in the most dignacious manner.
Down he wint accordingly, followed by the lord; and whin he wint over to where the waiver was lying, sure the first thing he seen was his shield with the big letthers an it, and with that, says he to the lord, 'Bedad,' says he, 'this is the very man I want.'
'For what, plaze your majesty?' says the lord.
'To kill that vagabone dragghin, to be sure,' says the king.
'Sure, do you think he could kill him,' says the lord, 'when all the stoutest knights in the land wasn't aiquil to it, but never kem back, and was ate up alive by the cruel desaiver.'
'Sure, don't you see there,' says the king, pointin' at the shield, 'that he killed three score and tin at one blow? and the man that done that, I think, is a match for anything.'
So, with that, he wint over to the waiver and shuck him by the shouldher for to wake him, and the waiver rubbed his eyes as if just wakened, and the king says to him, 'God save you,' said he.