IV
“Hark, you horses, and all you king’s men!
Hear it, and never forget it again!
’Tis those who are patient in seats that are low,
Who some day get up in high places and crow.”
V
Then they took him and put him to bed.
I hope you’ll remember the things that he said;
For all the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Never once thought of his sermon again.
This noble queen, with mind serene,
Then made a mammoth cake.
The naughty knave for cake did crave,
And off with it did make.
The haughty king, for punishing,
Would have him eat it all,
Which made the knave—unhappy slave—
Too sick to speak or crawl.
Since then, at ease, their majesties
Eat pastries every day.
The knave affirms his stomach squirms,
And looks the other way.
Alas, alas, to such a pass
Doth gluttony invite!
’Tis very sad to be so bad,
And lose one’s appetite.
Next day the queen, with lofty mien,
Prepared some lovely pies.
The feeble knave side-glances gave
At them with longing eyes.
The cruel king, with mocking fling,
Said: “Do, now, have some pie!”
The qualmish knave, no longer brave,
Could only groan, “Not I.”
