Here, O my Gill, right deftly, in a trice
I've made him smile and made him do it--twice.
That 't was the Duke of course you've guessed at once
Since you, I know, we nothing of a dunce.
But, what should bring a duke in cap and bells?
Read on and mark, while he the reason tells.
Now, 'spite of dust and heat, his lute he strummed,
And snatches of a merry song he hummed,
The while askance full merrily he eyed
The dusty knave who plodded at his side.
A bony fellow, this, and long of limb,
His habit poor, his aspect swart and grim;
His belt to bear a long broad-sword did serve,
His eye was bold, his nose did fiercely curve
Down which he snorted oft and (what is worse)
Beneath his breath gave vent to many a curse.
Whereat the Duke, sly laughing, plucked lutestring
And thus, in voice melodious did sing:
"Sir Pertinax, why curse ye so?
Since thus in humble guise we go
We merry chances oft may know,
Sir Pertinax of Shene."
"And chances woeful, lord, also!"
Quoth Pertinax of Shene.
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