Orval, or The Fool of Time And Other Imitations and Paraphrases. By Robert Lytton |
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XXVIII. | XXVIII.THE BAN OF VARADIN. |
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![]() | Orval, or The Fool of Time | ![]() |
XXVIII.THE BAN OF VARADIN.
A wassailer in wildest ways,
But foul befall the churl who says
That what he drinks he never pays,
So mad a devil dwells within
The brain of Peter Doïtchin,
The burly Ban of Varadin!
But foul befall the churl who says
That what he drinks he never pays,
So mad a devil dwells within
The brain of Peter Doïtchin,
The burly Ban of Varadin!
Three hundred ducats in a day,
Good sooth, he swill'd them all away!
And, when he had no more to pay,
First his massy mace of gold,
Then this coal-black horse he sold.
“Fill up the can, keep out the cold,
And let the merry devil in,
Sweetheart!” laught Peter Doïtchin,
The burly Ban of Varadin!
Good sooth, he swill'd them all away!
And, when he had no more to pay,
First his massy mace of gold,
Then this coal-black horse he sold.
“Fill up the can, keep out the cold,
And let the merry devil in,
Sweetheart!” laught Peter Doïtchin,
The burly Ban of Varadin!
Quoth King Mathias
. . . “Burly Ban,
God curse thee for a brainless man,
Whose goods flow from him in the can!
Three hundred ducats in a day,
Thou hast swill'd them all away,
And, for lack of more to pay,
Thou thy massy mace of gold,
And thy coal-black war-steed bold,
For a sorry stoup hast sold.”
God curse thee for a brainless man,
Whose goods flow from him in the can!
Three hundred ducats in a day,
Thou hast swill'd them all away,
And, for lack of more to pay,
Thou thy massy mace of gold,
431
For a sorry stoup hast sold.”
“King Mathias, cease thy prattle!
Brainless heads are hard in battle:
Fighting men make thirsty cattle.
Had'st thou the tavern drain'd with me,
The tavern wench upon thy knee,
(So sweet and sound a wench is she!)
Thou would'st have drunk up thy good town
Of Pesth, with Buda tower and down,
Camp, acropolis, court, and crown!”
Brainless heads are hard in battle:
Fighting men make thirsty cattle.
Had'st thou the tavern drain'd with me,
The tavern wench upon thy knee,
(So sweet and sound a wench is she!)
Thou would'st have drunk up thy good town
Of Pesth, with Buda tower and down,
Camp, acropolis, court, and crown!”
![]() | Orval, or The Fool of Time | ![]() |