Down he wint accordingly, followed by the lord; and when 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 the vagabone dhraggin, to be sure,” says the king.
“Sure, do you think he could kill him,” says the lord, “whin 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 threescore 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 shoulder for to wake him, and the waiver rubbed his eyes as if just wakened, and the king says to him, “God save you,” says he.
“God save you kindly,” says the waiver, purtendin’ he was quite onknownst who he was spakin’ to.
“Do you know who I am,” says the king, “that you make so free, good man?”
“No, indeed,” says the waiver, “you have the advantage o’ me.”
“To be sure I have,” says the king, moighty high; “sure ain’t I the King o’ Dublin?” says he.