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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 
 
 
 
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 I UNITED STATES OP AMERICA, 
 
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TREASURE TROVE. 
 
9/^7 C- 
 
 "T 
 
 Treasure Trove 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 By S. EYTINGE, Jr. 
 
 -4 
 
 r.^ 0^ ^>; ' 
 
 -Tt5N 
 JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY 
 
 Late Ticknor &: Fields, and Fields, Osgo:id, & Co. 
 
 1873 
 
.C25 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S72, by 
 
 James R. OsciooD and Company, 
 in the Office of tlie Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 RIVEKSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: 
 ELECTROTYPED AND PRINTED BY 
 H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 ENGRAVED BY A. V. S. ANTHONY. 
 
 I. The Castle of Chalus .... 
 II. Richard I. Plantagenet 
 
 III. Jews holding Old Post-obits and I O U's 
 
 IV. He kept by turns revolving . 
 V. All were singing, drinking 
 
 VI. Then a Mace of Steel he smote in two 
 VII. He caught the Herald .... 
 VIII. He prudently smuggled the Gold out . 
 IX. The Shock of the Battle .... 
 X. A Joyous Welcome he had from all 
 XI. Once a Year a Pipe of Sherry 
 XII. Ready in Fashion to lead the Ton 
 
 XIII. After Dinner and Afternoon 
 
 XIV. There was Ink on his Thumb 
 
 XV. The Plaudits followed him loud and free 
 XVI. Hurrah for the Gold ! . 
 XVII. His Curtle-axe rends the Double Oak 
 
 XVIII. Je-su ! I'm shot 
 
 XIX. With Eye unflinching, gazing on the King 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 ■ 5 
 7 
 
 , 8 
 
 10 
 
 II 
 
 12 
 
 ■ 13 
 i6 
 
 . i8 
 19 
 
 . 21 
 
 23 
 . 24 
 
 25 
 . 2S 
 
 29 
 ■ 31 
 
VI 
 
 List of IlliLstrations, 
 
 XX. The Captain neared the Royal Bed 
 XXI. Sling an Elephant by the Tail . 
 XXII. \Vith an Abbot to pray 
 
 XXIII. The Cutter began dissecting 
 
 XXIV. The Final Catastrophe . 
 XXV. He wasted awav as it rusted 
 
 PACK 
 
 • 11 
 39 
 
 ■ 41 
 42 
 
 • 45 
 
TREASURE-TROVE. 
 
 ONCE, the Castle of Chains, crowned 
 With sullen battlements, stood and frowned 
 On the sullen plain around it ; 
 But Richard of England came one day, 
 And the Casde of Chalus passed away 
 In such a rapid and sure decay 
 
 No modern yet has found it. 
 
 Who has not heard of the Lion King 
 
 Who made the harps of the minstrels ring? 
 1 
 
Treasure- Trove. 
 
 Oh, well they might imagine it 
 Hard for chivalry's ranks to show 
 A knight more gallant to face a foe, 
 With a firmer lance or a heavier blow, 
 
 Than Richard I. Plantagenet; 
 
 Or gayer withal : for he loved his joke, 
 As well as he loved, with slashing stroke, 
 The haughtiest helm to hack at; 
 
Treasiwe- Trove, 
 
 Wine or blood he laughingly poured ; 
 'Twas a lightsome word or a heavy sword, 
 As he found a foe or a festive board, 
 
 With a skull or a joke to crack at. 
 
 Yet some their candid belief avow, 
 That, if Richard lived in England now, 
 
 And his lot were only a common one, 
 He ne'er had meddled with kings or states, 
 But might have been a bruiser of pates 
 And champion now of the "heavy weights ,"- 
 
 A first-rate " Fighting Phenomenon." 
 
 A vassal bound in peace and war 
 To Richard I. was Vidomar^ — 
 
 A noble as proud and needy 
 As ever before that monarch bowed, 
 But not so needy and not so proud 
 
 As the monarch himself was greedy. 
 Of the Limosin was he Vicomte : 
 A county then of some account. 
 
 Though counted rather stony. 
 For always it had good fighting men 
 Amongst its hardy serfs — but then 
 
 It had more men than money. 
 
Tr east we- Trove. 
 
 His father nature's debt had paid 
 
 About the time of the Third Crusade, — 
 
 A time when the fashion was fully set 
 
 By Richard of running in tilts and debt, 
 
 When plumes were high and prudence low, 
 
 And every knight felt bound to "go 
 
 The pace," and just like Richard do, 
 
 By running his purse and a Paynim through. 
 
 Yet do not suppose that Vidomar 
 
 Was ever a knight in the Holy War : 
 
 For Richard many a Saracen head 
 
 Had lopped before the old Count was dead ; 
 
 And Richard was home from Palestine, 
 
 Home from the dungeon of Di.irrenstein, 
 
 And many a Christian corpse had made. 
 
 Ere the time in which the story is laid. 
 
 But the fashion he set became so strong, 
 
 That Vidomar was hurried along. 
 
 And did as many a peer has done 
 
 On reaching a title and twenty-one. 
 
 And met the fate that will meet a peer 
 
 Who lives in state on nothing a year. 
 
 Deserted by all, except some Jews, 
 
 Holding old post-obits and I O Us, 
 
 Who hunted him up and hunted him down, 
 
 He left Limoges, the capital town, 
 
Treasure- Trove. 
 
 5 
 
 For his country castle Chains, — 
 As spendthrift lords to Boulogne repair, 
 To give their estates a chance to air, — 
 
 And went to turning follows ; 
 Or ordered his serfs to turn the same, 
 While he went himself in pursuit of game, 
 
 Or any rural pleasure. 
 Till one fine day, as he rode away. 
 
Treasure- Troi 'e. 
 
 A serf came running behind to say 
 
 Tliey'd found a buried treasure. 
 No more he thought of hawk or hound, 
 But spurred to the spot, and there he found. 
 
 Beyond his boldest thoughts, 
 A sum to set him afloat a^ain, — 
 The leading figure, 'twas very plain, 
 Was followed by several 000. 
 
 O, who can tell of the schemes that flew 
 Through his head, as the treasure met his view, 
 And he knew that again his note was good ? 
 He may have felt as a debtor would 
 
 Who has dodged a dogging dun. 
 Or a bank-cashier in his hour of dread 
 With brokers behind and breakers ahead, 
 Or a blood with his last "upon the red," — 
 
 And each expecting a run. 
 
 What should he do? 'Twas very true 
 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: 
 
Treasure- Trove. 
 
 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, 
 
8 
 
 Treasure- Trove. 
 
 He swore, " By Arthur's table round, 
 I'll have another tournament ! " 
 
Treasure- Trove. ( 
 
 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 
 
 That seemed like gold a-chinking. 
 
 'Twere wrong to infer from what you've read 
 That Richard awoke with an aching head ; 
 
 For nerves like his resisted 
 With wonderful ease what we might deem 
 Enough to stagger a Polypheme, 
 And his spirits would never more than seem 
 
 A trifle too much " assisted." 
 
 As soon as the light broke into his tent, 
 Without delay for a herald he sent. 
 
 And bade him don his tabard. 
 And away to the Count to say by law 
 That gold was the king's : unless he saw 
 The same ere noon, his sword he would draw 
 
 And throw away the scabbard. 
 
 An hour, for his morning exercise. 
 
 He swayed that sword of wondrous size, — 
 
I o Treasti re- Trove. 
 
 'Twas called his great " persuader " ; 
 Then a mace of steel he smote in two, — 
 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 too 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 
 
Treasure- Trove. 1 1 
 
 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 JTort, if the finders froze 
 To 5ri*CaSUrt=trOVlC, — 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. 
 
 Cceur gazed around with the ominous glare 
 Of the lion deprived of the lion's share, — 
 
 A look there was no mistaking, — 
 A look which the courtiers never saw 
 Without a sudden desire to draw 
 Away from the sweep of the lion's paw 
 
 Before their bones were achins:. 
 
 '«3- 
 
 He caught the herald, — 'twas by the slack 
 Of garments below and behind his back, — 
 
12 
 
 Treasure- Trove. 
 
 Then swuns: him round for a minute ; 
 And when at last he let him free, 
 He shied him at a neighboring tree, 
 A distance of thirty yards and three, 
 
 And lodged him handsomely in it : 
 
 Then seized his ponderous battle-axe, 
 And bade his followers mount their hacks, 
 
 With a look of his countenance so stern, 
 So little of fun, so full of fight. 
 That, when he came in the Count's full sight, ' 
 In something of haste and more of frigln. 
 
 The Count rode out of the post en : 
 
Treasure- Tiwe. 
 
 And crowding leagues from his angry liege, 
 He left his castle to storm or sieo:e, — 
 
 His poor beef-eaters to hold out, 
 Or save themselves as well as they could, 
 Or be food for crows : what noble should 
 Waste thought on such ? As a noble would, 
 
 He prudently smuggled the gold out. 
 
 13 
 
 In the feudal days, in the good old times 
 Of feudal virtues and feudal crimes, 
 
 A point of honor they'd make in it, 
 Though sure in the end their flag must fall, 
 To show stout fight and never to call 
 A truce till they saw a hole in the wall 
 
 Or a larder without any steak in it. 
 
Tirasjtre- 7 'rove. 1 5 
 
 The fight began. Shouts filled the air, — 
 
 " St. George ! " " St. Denis ! " — as here and there 
 
 The shock of the battle shifted ; 
 There were catapult-shots and shots by hand, 
 Ladders with desperate climbers manned, 
 Rams and rocks, hot lead and sand 
 
 On the heads of the climbers sifted. 
 
 But the sturdy churls would not give way. 
 Though Richard in person rushed to the fray 
 
 With all of his rash proclivity 
 For knocks ; till, despairing of knightly fame 
 In doughty deeds for a doubtful claim, 
 The hero of Jaffa changed his game 
 
 To a masterly inactivity. 
 
 He stretched his lines in a circle round, 
 And pitched his tent on a rising ground 
 
 For general supervision 
 Of both the hostile camps, while he 
 Could join with Blondel in minstrel glee. 
 Or drink, or dice with Marcadee, 
 
 And they — consume provision. 
 
 To starve a garrison day by day 
 You may not think a chivalrous way 
 
1 6 Treasiij'c- Trove. 
 
 To take a fortification. 
 The story is dull : by way of relief, 
 I make a digression, very brief, 
 And leave the " ins " to swallow their beef, 
 
 The '^ outs " their mortification. 
 
 Many there were in Richard's train 
 
 More known to fame and of higher degree, 
 
 But none that suited his fickle vein 
 So well as Blondel and Marcadee. 
 
 Blondel had grown from a minstrel-boy 
 To a very romantic troubadour 
 
Trcastwe- Trove. \ j 
 
 Whose soul was music, whose song was joy, 
 
 Whose only motto was Vive V amour ! 
 In lady's bower, in lordly hall, 
 
 From the king himself to the poorest clown, 
 A joyous welcome he had from all, 
 
 And Care in his presence forgot to frown. 
 Sadly romantic, fantastic, and vain. 
 
 His heart for his head still made amends ; 
 For he never sang a malicious strain, 
 
 And never was known to fail his friends. 
 Who but he, when the captive king, 
 
 By a brother betrayed, was left to rot, 
 Would have gone disguised to seek and sin,^, 
 
 Till he heard his tale and the tidings brought ? 
 Little the listening sentries dreamed. 
 
 As they watched the king and a minstrel play. 
 That what but an idle rhyming seemed 
 
 Would rouse all England another day ! 
 'Twas the timely aid of a friend in need, 
 And, seldom as Richard felt the power 
 Of a se'rvice past, he remembered the deed 
 
 And cherished him ever from that hour : 
 He made him 'his bard, with nought to do 
 But court the ladies and court the Nine, 
 And every day bring something new 
 
 To sing for the revelers over their wine ; 
 
 2 
 
1 8 Treasurc-Tnve. 
 
 With* once a year a pipe of Sherry, 
 
 A suit of clothes, and a haunch of venison, 
 
 To make himself and his fellows merry. — 
 The salary now of Alfred Tennyson. 
 
 Brabangon Captain Marcadee 
 Commanded Richard's lances free. 
 Wrong or right, or right or wrong, 
 With conscience weak and muscles strong, 
 He roamed about from clime to clime 
 The side of virtue or yet of crime 
 Ready to take in a regular way 
 For any leader and regular pay ; 
 And trusting steel, he thought it odd 
 To fear the Devil or honor God. 
 His forte was not in the field alone. 
 
 He was no common fighter, 
 For in all accomplishments he shone, — 
 
 At least, in all the lighter. 
 
Trcasiii'c- Trove. 
 
 To lance or lute alike an fait, 
 With grasp now firm, now light, 
 
 He flourished this to knightly lay, 
 And that to lav a knight. 
 
 Ready in fashion to lead the ton, 
 In the battle-field his men, 
 
 He danced like a Zephyr, and, harness on, 
 
 10 
 
 ft ^^^.■. - ^.V} .V 
 
20 Treasure- Trove. 
 
 Could "walk his mile in ten." 
 And Nature gave him such a frame, 
 
 His tailor such a fit, 
 That whether a head or a heart his aim, 
 
 He always made a hit. 
 Wherever he went, the ladies dear 
 
 Would very soon adore him, 
 And, quite of course, the lords would sneer, 
 
 But never sneer before him ! 
 Perhaps it fared with the ladies worse 
 
 Than it fared with their gallants ; 
 Tor he broke a vow with as slight remorse 
 
 As he ever broke a lance. 
 Thus, tilting here and jilting there, 
 He fought a foe or he fooled a fair, 
 
 But little recking how \ 
 So deadly smooth, so cruel and vain, 
 He might have made a capital Cain^ 
 
 Or a splendid dandy now. 
 
 In short, if you looked o'er land and sea, 
 
 From London to the Niger, 
 You certainly must have said with me, — 
 If Richard was lion, Marcadee 
 
 Might well have been the tiger. 
 
Treasure- Trove. 
 
 21 
 
 A month went by. They lay there still, 
 And chafed with nothing but time to kill, — 
 A tough old foe. Observe the way 
 They laid him out, as thus : One day, — 
 
 'Twas after dinner and afternoon. 
 When the noise was over of knife and fork, 
 And only was heard an occasional cork 
 
 And Blondel idly thrumming a tune, — 
 King Richard pushed the wine along. 
 And rapped the table, and cried, " A soncj- 1 
 Dullness I hold a shame, a sin 
 Against good wine. Come, Blondel, begin!" 
 Blondel coughed, — was " half afraid," — 
 Was "out last night on a serenade, 
 
 And caught a cold," — his "voice was gone, 
 
 And really, just now, his head" — " Go on ! " 
 
22 Treasure-Trove. 
 
 He bowed, and swept the chords — " Brrrrang "- 
 With a handful of notes, and thus he sang : - 
 
 BLONDEL. 
 
 Life is fleeting, — make it pleasant ; 
 Care for nothing but the present ; 
 For the past we leave behind us. 
 And the future may not find us. 
 
 Though we cannot shun its troubles, 
 Care and sorrow we may banish ; 
 Though its pleasures are but bubbles, 
 Catch the bubbles ere they vanish. 
 
 There is joy we cannot measure — 
 Joy we may not win with treasure — 
 When the glance of beauty thrills us, 
 When her love with rapture fills us. 
 Let us seize it ere it passes : 
 
 Be our motto, " I>ove is mighty." 
 Fill, then, fill your brimming glasses ! 
 Fill, and drink to Aphrodite ! 
 
 Of course they drank w^ith a right good will. 
 For they never missed a chance to fill. 
 And yet a few, I'm sorry to own, 
 Made side-remarks in an undertone, 
 Like those we hear, when, nowadays. 
 Good-natured friends, with seeming praise, 
 
Trcasiwe- Trove. 
 
 23 
 
 Contrive to damn. In the midst of the hum 
 They heard a loud and slashing thrum : 
 'Tvvas the king : and each his breath drew in 
 Till you might have heard a falling pin. 
 Some little excuse, at first, he made, 
 While over the lute his fmgers strayed : — 
 '^ You know my way, — as the fancies come, 
 I improvise." — There was ink on his thumb. 
 
 That morning, alone, good hours he spent 
 In writing dispatches never sent. 
 
 RICHARD. 
 
 There is pleasure when bright eyes are glancing 
 
 And Beauty is willing ; but more 
 When the war-horse is gallantly prancing 
 
 And snuffing the battle afar, — 
 When the foe, with his banner advancing, 
 
 Is sounding the clarion of war. 
 
24 Treasure- Trove. 
 
 Where the battle is deadly and gory, 
 
 Where foeman to foeman is pressed, 
 
 W^here the path is before me to glory, 
 Is pleasure for me, and the best. 
 
 Let me live in proud chivalry's story, 
 Or die with my lance in its rest ! 
 
 The plaudits followed him loud and free 
 As he tossed the lute to Marcadee, 
 Who caught it featly, bowing low, 
 And said, " My liege, 'l may not know 
 
Treasicre- Trove. 2 5 
 
 To improvise ; but I'll give a song, 
 
 The song of our camp, — we've known it long. 
 
 It suits not well this tinkle and thrum. 
 
 It needs to be heard with a rattling drum. 
 
 Ho, there ! Tambour, — He knows it well, — 
 
 The Brabangonne ! Now make it tell : 
 
 Let your elbows now with a spirit wag 
 
 In the outside roll and the double drag." 
 
 MARCADEE. 
 
 I'm but a soldier of fortune, you see : 
 
 Huzza ! 
 Glory and love, — they are nothing to me : 
 
 Ha, ha ! 
 Glory's soon faded, and love is soon cold : 
 Give me tlie soh'd, reliable gold : 
 
 Hurrah for the gold ! 
 
 Country or king I have none, I am free : 
 
 Huzza ! 
 Patriots quarrel, — 'tis harvest for me : 
 
 Ha, ha ! 
 A soldier of fortune, my creed is soon told, — 
 I'd fight for the Devil, to pocket his gold ! 
 
 Hurrah for the gold.' 
 
26 Treasttre-Trovc. 
 
 He turned to the king, as he finished the verse, 
 
 And threw on the table a heavy purse 
 
 With a pair of dice, — another, you know, 
 
 Still lurked incog, for a lucky throw : — 
 
 "'Tis mine ; 'twas thine. If the king would play. 
 
 Perchance he'd find his revenge to-day. 
 
 Gambling, I own, is a fault, a sin ; 
 
 I always repent — unless I win. 
 
 Le jeic est fait. — Well thrown! eleven! 
 
 My purse is gone. — Double- six, by heaven 1 " 
 
 At this unlucky point in the game 
 
 A herald was ushered in. He came 
 
 With a flag of truce, commissioned to say 
 
 The garrison now were willing to lay 
 
 The kevs of the castle at his feet, 
 
 If he'd let them go and let them eat: 
 
 They'd done their best ; could do no more 
 
 Than humbly wait the fortune of war 
 
 And Richard's word. It came in tones 
 
 That grated harshly : " Damn the bones 
 
 And double six ! Marcadee, you've won. — 
 
 Take back my word to each mother's son. 
 
 And tell them Richard swore it : 
 Be the smoke of their den their funeral pall ! 
 By the Holy Tomb, I'll hang them all ! 
 They've hung out so well behind their wall, 
 
Trcasiirc-Trove. 27 
 
 They'll hang out well before it." 
 Then Richard laughed in his hearty way, 
 Enjoying his joke, as a monarch may. 
 If it lacked in life, it was full of death, 
 And he laughed till he ached for want of breath ; 
 Like many, believing the next best thing 
 To a joke with a point is a joke with a sting. 
 Loud he laughed ; but he laughed not long 
 Ere he leaped to the back of his charger strong 
 And bounded forward, axe on high, 
 Circling the tents with his battle-cry, — 
 " Away ! away ! we shall win the day : 
 
 In the front of the fight you'll find me : 
 The first to get in my spurs shall win, — 
 
 My boots to the wight behind me!" 
 
 . . . . They have reached the moat ; 
 The draw is up, but a wooden float 
 Is thrust across, and onward they run ; 
 The bank is gained and the barbican won ; 
 The outer gate goes down with a crash ; 
 Through the portcullis they madly dash, 
 And with shouts of triumph they now assail 
 The innermost gate. The crushing hail 
 Of rocks and beams goes through the mass. 
 Like the summer-hail on the summer-grass ; 
 
Treasure- Trove. 
 
 29 
 
 I'hey f^xlter, they waver. A stalwart form 
 Breaks through the ranks, like a bolt in the storm : 
 'Tis the Lion King! — " How^ now, ye knaves! 
 ])o ye look for safety? Find your graves!" — 
 One blow to the left, one blow to the right, — 
 Two recreants fall, — no more of flight. 
 One stride to the front, and, stroke on stroke, 
 His curtle axe rends the double oak. 
 Down shower the missiles ; they fall in vain ; 
 They scatter like drops from the lion's mane. 
 He is down, — he is up ; that right arm ! how 
 'Tis nerved with the strength of twenty, now ! 
 The barrier yields, — it shivers, — it falls. 
 " Huzza ! St. George ! to the walls ! to the walls ! 
 Throw the rats to the moat ! cut down ! spare not I 
 No quarter ! remember — Jc — su ! I'm shot 1 " 
 
30 Treasure- Trove. 
 
 On a silken pallet lying, under hangings stiff with 
 
 gold, 
 Now is Coeur-de-Lion sighing, weakly sighing, he the 
 
 bold ! 
 For with riches, power, and glory now forever he must 
 
 part. 
 They have told him he is dying. Keen remorse is 
 
 at his heart. 
 Life is grateful, life is glorious, with the pulses bound- 
 ing high 
 In a warrior frame victorious : it were easy so to die. 
 Yet to die is fearful ever ; oh, how fearful, when the 
 
 sum 
 Of the past is only murder, — and a fearful world to 
 
 come ! 
 Where are now the wretched victims of his wrath t 
 
 The deed is done. 
 He has conquered. They have suffered. Yonder, 
 
 blackening in the sun. 
 From the battlements they're hanging. Little joy it 
 
 gives to him 
 Now to see the work of vengeance, when his eye is 
 
 growing dim ! 
 One was saved, — the daring bowman who the fatal 
 
 arrow sped ; 
 He was saved, but not for mercy ; better numbered 
 
 with the dead ! 
 
Treasure- Trove. 
 
 31 
 
 Now, relenting, late repenting, Richard turns to 
 
 Marcadee, 
 Saying, " Haste, before I waver, bring the captive 
 
 youth to me." 
 He is .brought, his feet in fetters, heavy shackles on 
 
 his hands. 
 And, with eye unflinching, gazing on the king, erect 
 
 he stands. 
 
3 2 Trcasu re- Trove. 
 
 He is gazing not in anger, not for insult, not for 
 
 show ; 
 But his soul, before its leaving, Richard's very soul 
 
 would know. 
 Death is certain, — death by torture : death for him 
 
 can have no sting, 
 If that arrow did its duty, — if he share it with the 
 
 king. 
 Were he trembling or defiant, were he less or more 
 
 than bold, 
 Once again to vengeful fury would he rouse the fiend 
 
 of old 
 That in Richard's breast is lurking, ready once again 
 
 to spring. 
 Dreading now that vengeful spirit, with a wavering 
 
 voice, the king 
 Questions impotently, wildly : " Prisoner, tell me, 
 
 what of ill 
 Ever I have done to thee or thine, that me thou 
 
 wouldest kill 1 " 
 Higher, prouder still he bears him ; o'er his counte- 
 nance appear. 
 Flitting quickly, looks of wonder and of scorn ; what 
 
 does he hear ? 
 
 a 
 
 And dost thou ask me, man of blood, what evil 
 thou hast done ? 
 
Treasu ;r- Trove. 3 3 
 
 Hast thou so soon forgot thy vow to hang each 
 
 mother's son ? 
 No ! oft as thou hast broken vows, I know them 
 
 to be strong, 
 Whene'er thy pride or lust or hate has sworn to do 
 
 a wrong. 
 But churls should bow to right divine of kings, 
 
 for good or ill. 
 And bare their necks to axe or rope, if 'twere thy 
 
 royal will ? 
 Ah, hadst thou, Richard, yet to learn the very 
 
 meanest thing 
 That crawls the earth, in self-defense would turn 
 
 upon a king ? 
 Yet deem not 'twas the hope of life which led me 
 
 to the deed : 
 I'd freely lose a thousand lives to make thee, ty- 
 rant, bleed ! — 
 Aye ! mark me well, canst thou not see somewhat 
 
 of old Bertrand ? 
 My father good ! my brothers dear ! all murdered, 
 
 by thy hand ! 
 Yes, one escaped ; he saw thee strike, he saw his 
 
 kindred die, 
 And breathed a vow, a burning vow of vengeance, 
 
 — it was I ! 
 3 
 
34 Trcasitrc-Tvove. 
 
 I've lived ; but all my life has been a memory 
 
 of the slain ; 
 I've lived but to revenge them, — and I have not 
 
 lived in vain ! 
 I read it in thy haggard face, the hour is drawing 
 
 nigh 
 When power and wealth can aid thee not, — when 
 
 Richard, thou must DIE! 
 What mean those pale, convulsive lips ? What 
 
 means that shrinking brow ? 
 Ha ! Richard of the lion- heart, thou art a coward 
 
 now ! 
 Now call thy hireling ruffians ; bid them bring the 
 
 cord and rack, 
 And bid them strain these limbs of mine until 
 
 the sinews crack; 
 And bid them tear the quivering flesh, break one 
 
 by one each bone ; 
 Thou canst not break my spirit, though thou mayst 
 
 compel a groan. 
 I die, as I would live and die, the ever bold and 
 
 free ; 
 And I shall die with joy, to think I've rid the 
 
 world of thee." 
 
 Swords are starting from their scabbards, grim and 
 hardened warriors \vait 
 
Treasure- Trove. 3 5 
 
 Richard's slightest word or gesture that may seal the 
 
 bowman's fate. 
 But his memory has been busy with the deeds of 
 
 other times. 
 In the eyes of wakened conscience all his glories 
 
 turn to crimes, 
 And his crimes to something monstrous ; worlds were 
 
 little now to give 
 In atonement for the least. He cries, in anguish, 
 
 " Let him live. 
 He has reason ; never treason more became a traitor 
 
 bold. 
 Youth, forgive as I forgive thee ! Give him freedom, 
 
 — give him gold. 
 Marcadee, be sure, obey me ; 'tis the last, the dying 
 
 hest 
 Of a monarch who is sinking, sinking fast, — oh, not 
 
 to rest ! 
 Haply, He above, remembering, may relieve my dark 
 
 despair 
 With a ray of hope to light the gloom when I am 
 
 suffering — there ! " 
 
 The captain neared the royal bed 
 And humbly bowed his helmed head. 
 And laid his hand upon the plate 
 
3< 
 
 Treasure- Ti'ove. 
 
 That sheathed his breast, and said, "■ Though late 
 
 Thy mercy comes, I hold it still 
 
 My duty to do thy royal will. 
 
 If I should fail to serve thee fair, 
 
 May I be doomed to suffer — there ! " 
 
Treasure- Trove. 
 
 37 
 
 I've often met with a fast young friend 
 More ready to borrow than I to lend : 
 I've heard smooth men in election-time 
 Prove every creed^ but their own, a crime : 
 Perhaps, if the fast one wished to borrow, 
 I've taken his word to pay " to-morrow " ; 
 Perhaps, while Smooth explained his creed, 
 I've thought him the man for the country's need; 
 Perhaps I'm more of a trusting mood 
 Than you suppose ; but I think I would 
 
 Have trusted that man of mail, 
 If I had been the dying king, 
 About as far as you could sling 
 
 An elephant by the tail 
 
38 Treasure-Trove. 
 
 Good subjects then^ as now^ no doubt^ 
 When a king was dead, were eager to shout 
 
 In time, " God save " the nev/ one ! 
 One trouble was always whom to choose 
 Amongst the heirs ; for it raised the deuce 
 And ran the subject's neck in a noose, 
 
 Unless he chose the true one. 
 
 Another difficult task, — to judge 
 
 If the coming king would bear a grudge 
 
 For some old breach of concord, 
 And take the earliest chance to send 
 A trusty line by a trusty friend 
 To give his compliments at the end 
 
 Of a disagreeable strong cord. 
 
 And whoever would have must seize his own. 
 Thus a dying king was left alone, 
 
 With a sad neglect of manners ; 
 Ere his breath was out, the courtiers ran, 
 W^ith fear or zeal for " the coming man," 
 In time to escape from under his ban, 
 
 Or hurry under his banners. 
 
 So Richard was left in a shabby way 
 To Marcadee, with an abbot to pray 
 
Treasure- Trove. 
 
 And pother witli consolation, 
 Reminding 'twas never too late to search - 
 For mercy, and hinting that Mother Church 
 Was never known to leave in the lurch 
 
 A king — with a fat donation. 
 
 39 
 
 But the abbot was known to Richard well, 
 As one who would smoothen the road to hell, 
 
 And quite as willing to revel 
 As preach ; and he always preached to soothe, 
 
40 Treasure- Trove. 
 
 With a mild regard for the follies of youth, — 
 Himself, in epitome, proving the truth 
 
 Of the world, the flesh, and the devil. 
 
 This was the will that Richard made : — 
 " My body at father's feet be laid ; 
 
 And to Rouen which loved me most, 
 I give my heart ; and likewise, I do 
 Bequeath — my bowels — to rebel Poitou ; 
 My darling sins — dear abbot, to — you — 
 
 And I give " — he gave up the ghost. 
 
 The abbot looked grave, but never spoke. 
 The captain laughed, gave the abbot a poke. 
 
 And, without ado or lingering, 
 " Conveyed " the personals, jewels, and gold, 
 Omitting the formal ^0 l^aDr tinTr ^To iJ^OltT. 
 From the royal finger, before it was cold. 
 
 He slipped the royal finger-ring. 
 
 There might have been in the eye of the law 
 A something which lawyers call a flaw 
 
 Of title in such a conversion : 
 But if weak in the law, he was strong in the hand, 
 And had the " nine points." — He summoned his 
 band, 
 
Treasure- Trove. 
 
 And ordered before him the archer Bertrand, 
 Intending a Httle diversion. 
 
 41 
 
 He called the cutter, — no cutter of clothes, 
 But such as royalty kept for those 
 
 Who happened to need correcting, — 
 And told him that Richard, before he died, 
 Desired to have a scalpel applied 
 To the traitor there. With professional pride, 
 
 The cutter besran dissecting. 
 
42 Treastire- Trove. 
 
 Now Bones was born with a genius to flay : 
 He might have ranked had he Hved to-day, 
 
 As a capital taxidermist : 
 And yet, as he tugged, they heard him say, 
 Of all the backs that ever lay 
 Before him in a professional way, 
 
 That was of all backs the firmest. 
 
 Kind reader, allow me to drop a veil 
 In pity ; I cannot pursue the tale 
 
 In the heartless tone of the last strophe. 
 
 • •••••••• 
 
 'Tis done, and again I'll be the same. 
 They triumphed not, if they felt no shame : 
 No muscle quivered, no murmur came, 
 Until the final catastrophe. 
 
Treasure-Trove. 43 
 
 The captain jested a moment^ then 
 
 He waved his hand and bowed to his men 
 
 With a single word ^^ Disbanded/' 
 And galloped away with three or four 
 Stout men-at-arms to the nearest shore, 
 Where a gallant array not long before 
 
 With the king in pride had landed. 
 
 He coasted around, went up the Rhine^ 
 So famous then for robbers and wine, 
 
 So famous now as a ramble. 
 The wine and the robbers still are there ; 
 But they rob you now with a bill of fare, 
 And gentlemen bankers ^'^ on the square " 
 
 Will clean you out if you gamble. 
 
 He built him a Schloss on — something-Stein, 
 And became the tirst of as proud a line 
 
 As e'er took toll on the river. 
 When barons, perched in their castles high, 
 On the valley would keep a watchful eye," 
 And pounce on travellers with their cry, 
 
 '^ The Rhine-dues ! down ! deliver ! " 
 
 And crack their crowns for any delay 
 Jn paying down. And that, by the way. 
 
44 Treasure- Trove. 
 
 A"bout as correctly as I know, 
 Is the origin true of an ancient phrase 
 So frequently heard in modern days, 
 When a gentleman quite reluctantly pays, — 
 
 I mean, ^^ To come down with the rhino.' 
 
 To follow the fortunes of Marcadee 
 And Vidomar much longer would be 
 
 A bore, in all probability. 
 And yet, perhaps a curious few 
 Might like to have a dissolving view 
 Of those two worthies — specimens true 
 
 Of mediaeval nobility. 
 
 The Vicomte travelled upon his gold ; 
 Said " Go it young, for when you are old 
 
 You can't," and the way he went it 
 Was a pleasant sight for a parasite, 
 And followers flattered and fleeced the knisfht 
 As clean as Wall Street could with a kite — . 
 
 And that was the way he spent it. 
 
 A merchant of Mentz was toH'd too much. 
 He told his neighbors and raised their dutch 
 
 Till they gathered together and " busted " 
 The Schloss, and prevailed upon Marcadee 
 
Treasure- Ti^ove. 
 
 45 
 
 To hang up his sword, — on a one-limb-tree, — 
 And so strongly attached to his sword was he 
 That he wasted away as it rusted. 
 
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