Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/105

 And cut her head against the pointed stones,

While I lean'd on my staff, and look'd at her,

And cried, being drunk.

You are so handsome, I think verily

Most ladies would be glad to kiss your eyes,

And yet you will be hung like a cur dog

Five minutes hence, and grow black in the face,

And curl your toes up. Therefore I am glad.

Guess why I stand and talk this nonsense now,

With Guesclin getting ready to play chess,

And Clisson doing something with his sword,

I can't see what, talking to Guesclin though,

I don't know what about, perhaps of you.

But, cousin Peter, while I stroke your beard,

Let me say this, I 'd like to tell you now

That your life hung upon a game of chess,

That if, say, my squire Robert here should beat,

Why you should live, but hang if I beat him;

Then guess, clever Peter, what I should do then;

Well, give it up? why, Peter, I should let

My squire Robert beat me, then you would think

That you were safe, you know; Eh? not at all,

But I should keep you three days in some hold,

Giving you salt to eat, which would be kind,

Considering the tax there is on salt;

And afterwards should let you go, perhaps?

No I should not, but I should hang you, sir,

With a red rope in lieu of mere grey rope.

But I forgot, you have not told me yet

If you can guess why I talk nonsense thus,