Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
France: Vols. IX–X. 1876–79. | | | | Miscellaneous | | King Dagobert | | Anonymous |
| | (Excerpt)
Translated by John Oxenford
KING DAGOBERT, so stout,— | |
| He wore his breeches wrong side out. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| Unseemly are | 5 |
| The hose you wear.” | |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he; | |
| “But now I ’ll turn them right, you ’ll see.” * * * * * | |
| King Dagobert, one day, | |
| Put on his coat of green so gay. | 10 |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “Look, mon roi, | |
| In your best coat | |
| A hole I note.” | |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he; | 15 |
| “But yours is whole, so lend it me.” | |
| |
| His stockings, too, were seen | |
| In holes,—by maggots gnawed, I ween. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | 20 |
| Just look below, | |
| Your calves you show.” | |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he, | |
| “So please your stockings lend to me.” | |
| |
| King Dagobert, so brave, | 25 |
| In winter was not wont to shave. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| You ’ll get, I hope, | |
| A little soap.” | 30 |
| Then said the king: “I will,” said he; | |
| “Have you a penny? Lend it me.” | |
| |
| King Dagobert, of yore, | |
| He wore his wig hind-part before. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | 35 |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| Your wig ’s not right, | |
| You look a fright.” | |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he; | |
| “You ’ve got a scratch, so lend it me.” | 40 |
| |
| King Dagobert, of yore, | |
| His cloak too short in winter wore. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| Your cloak is scant, | 45 |
| New cloth you want.” | |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he, | |
| “So put on inches two or three.” | |
| |
| King Dagobert wrote verse | |
| So ill that nothing could be worse. | 50 |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| Songs, if you please, | |
| You ’ll leave to geese.” | |
| Then said the king: “I will,” said he, | 55 |
| “So you shall make my songs for me.” | |
| |
| King Dagobert, they say, | |
| Near Antwerp went to hunt one day. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | 60 |
| You ’re out of breath | |
| And tired to death.” | |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he, | |
| “A rabbit scampered after me.” | |
| |
| King Dagobert, of yore, | 65 |
| A mighty sword of iron wore. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| Ain’t you afraid | |
| Of that sharp blade?” | 70 |
| Then said the king: “I am,” said he, | |
| “A wooden sword pray give to me.” | |
| |
| King Dagobert was sad, | |
| His dogs were with the mange so bad. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | 75 |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| To clean each hound | |
| It must be drowned.” | |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he, | |
| “So drowned with you they all shall be.” | 80 |
| |
| King Dagobert, so stout, | |
| When fighting, flung his blows about. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| I fear they will | 85 |
| Your highness kill.” | |
| Then said the king: “They may,” said he, | |
| “So clap yourself in front of me.” | |
| |
| So proud the monarch grew | |
| He thought the world he could subdue, | 90 |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| A trip so far | |
| Is full of care.” | |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he, | 95 |
| “’T is better far at home to be.” | |
| |
| King Dagobert of old | |
| Made war although ’t was winter cold. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | 100 |
| Your highness’ nose | |
| Will soon be froze.” | |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he, | |
| “So back again at home I ’ll be.” | |
| |
| One day, so runs the tale, | 105 |
| The king upon the sea would sail. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| If outward bound, | |
| You may be drowned.” | 110 |
| Then said the king: “That ’s true,” said he; | |
| “Le roi boit, then, the cry will be.” | |
| |
| The good King Dagobert | |
| Was very fond of his dessert. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | 115 |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| More than enough | |
| You cut and stuff.” | |
| “Pooh, monsieur,” said the king, said he; | |
| “In stuffing you ’re a match for me.” | 120 |
| |
| King Dagobert the great, | |
| When he had tippled, walked not straight. | |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| Your footsteps slide | 125 |
| From side to side.” | |
| “Pooh, monsieur,” said the king, said he; | |
| “When you get drunk, you walk like me.” | |
| |
| And when the good king died, | |
| The devil came to his bedside. | 130 |
| Good Saint Eloi | |
| Said: “O mon roi, | |
| You can’t do less | |
| Than now confess.” | |
| Then said the king: “Alas!” said he, | 135 |
| “Why can’t you die instead of me.” | | | | |
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