A feat which the king would often do,
Since Saladin wondered at that _coup_
When he met our stout crusader.

A trifle for him: he "trained to light,"--
Grown lazy now: but his appetite,
On the whole, was satisfactory,--
As the vanishing viands, warm and cold,
Most amply proved, ere, minus the gold,
The herald returned and trembling told
How the Count had proved refractory:

Had owned it true that his serfs had found
A treasure buried somewhere in the ground,--
Perhaps not strictly a nugget:
Though none but Norman lawyers chose
To count it tort, if the finders "froze"
To treasure-trove,--especially those
Who held the land where they dug it,--

For quits he'd give up half,--down,--cash;
And that, for one who had gone to smash,
Was a liberal restitution:
His neighbor Shent-per-Shent did sue
On a better claim, and put it through,--
Recovered his suit, but not a _sou_
At the tail of an execution.

Coeur gazed around with the ominous glare
Of the lion deprived of the lion's share,--