The World’s Wit and Humor: An Encyclopedia in 15 Volumes. 1906.
Pierre Jean de Béranger (1780–1857)The King of Yvetot
I
Whom few historians name;
A sleeper fast, a waker slow,
No dreams had he of fame.
By Betty’s hand with night-cap crown’d,
He snored in state—the whole clock round—
Profound!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho! ho!
A kingdom match with Yvetot!
Ho! ho!
His palace-walls of mud,
He stow’d beneath his royal skin;
And on an ass—his stud—
In triumph through his realm would jog,
His guard, with vigilance agog—
A dog!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho! ho!
A kingdom match with Yvetot!
Ho! ho!
Save thirstiness alone;
But ere a people blest can be,
We must support the throne!
So from each cask new tapp’d he got
(His own tax-gath’rer), on the spot,
A pot!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho! ho!
A kingdom match with Yvetot!
Ho! ho!
The folks could understand
A hundred reasons him to call
The Father of his Land.
His troops he levied in his park
But twice a year—to hit a mark,
And lark!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho! ho!
A kingdom match with Yvetot!
Ho! ho!
No neighbors’ slumbers vexed;
To frame his laws (as good kings ought)
Took pleasure’s code for text.
He never caused his subjects dear
To shed save only on his bier—
A tear!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho! ho!
A kingdom match with Yvetot!
Ho! ho!
The greatest of his line,
In Yvetot may still be seen,
His fav’rite beer-shop’s sign!
On holidays the boozing crowd
Shout, pledging deep the relic proud,
Aloud,
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho! ho!
He was the king for Yvetot!
Ho! ho!