And the scattered gold flew widely, urged by that prodigious kick,
Smote the Frank behind the throne, although he dodged amazing quick;
Spattered that insulting Sultan, like a splash of London mud,
Blackening his dexter eye, and from his "boko" drawing blood.
Then Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ gave that Moorish Sultan beans,
Holding it foul scorn—as did the pluckiest of Christian Queens—
a Christian Knight should take an insult from a turban'd Moor,
Without landing him a hot 'un, without giving him what-for!
Speed thee, speed thee, noble charger! Speed thee faster than the wind!
Stout Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ leaves that Moorish Fez behind;