That all of his debts were overdue;
But the "real-whole-souled" must use their gold
To run new scores,--not to pay off old.
That night he lay till the break of day,
The doubtful question solving:
Himself in his bed, and that in his head,
He kept by turns revolving.

That selfsame day, not very far
From the country castle of Vidomar,
The king had been progressing:
A courtly phrase, when the king was out
On a chivalrous bender; any route
As good as another: what about
Were little good in guessing.

That night, as he sat and drank, he frowned,
While courtiers moodily stood around,
All wondering what the journey meant,
Till a scout reported, "Treasure found!"--
With a rap that made the glasses bound,
He swore, "By Arthur's table round,
I'll have another tournament!"

No more, as he sat and drank, he frowned,
Or courtiers moodily stood around,
But all were singing, drinking;
And louder than all the songs he led,
And louder he said, "Ho! pass the red!"
Till he went to bed with a ring in his head