Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/The Prouesse of Kynge Rycharde

The Prouesse of Kynge Rycharde.

A Romaunt.

This is supposed to have been sung by Bertrand de Born, the illustrious troubadour, and companion-in-arms of Richard.

i.

What knight of them all upon Palestine's plainWith the Lion of England his hundreds hath slain?Whose sword with its lightnings such masses could pierce?Whose curtle-axe clove down the turиans so fierce?Whose martel so truly was flung from afar?Whose pennon so streamed 'mid the surges of war?The Crescent he humbled, the Cross to enthrone;Hurrah! hurrah! for Cœur-de-Lion!

ii.

Sour, Tripoli, Acre, and Solyma, too,The Soldan he taught at his scoffing to rue;Dieu-donné he crushed, like the Moslemin mail;And taught Barbarossa before him to quail!Your pride, Teuton Cæsar, and Philip august,Like cravens ill-jousting, he rolled in the dust!Ye returned—he remained—and was victor alone;Hurrah! hurrah! for Cœur-de-Lion!

iii.

The cheek of the maiden would pale at his name,And the babe closer cling to the infidel dame;.Were it screaming in anger, 'twas only to whisper—"King Richard!"—it stilled, like the grave, the young lisperWhenever the horse of a Turcoman shiesIn the forest, "Ah! ah! my fleet courser," he cries;"Dost think 'tis King Richard?" he asks with a groan;Hurrah! hurrah! for Cœur-de-Lion!

iv.

'Twas once 'neath a plantain, where sweet waters rose,'Mid Syria's sands did King Richard repose,With six gallant chevaliers forming his train;When the Moslemin riders came fast o'er the plain!"To horse, sirs," quoth Richard, "your lances in rest,"My crown to the knight who shall bear him the best!"Ten Turks he unhorsed, with the martel alone;Hurrah! Hurrah! for Cœur-de-Lion!

v.

Five knights on the plain by that horde were laid low;There rode but King Richard and Will de Préaux;"Spare—spare me, for Richard of England am I,"Quoth brave, loyal Will, and bid Richard to fly.Rushed hundreds on Will, like the vast ocean's surge:"I'll smite them," quoth Richard, "I will, by St. George."His curtle-axe gleamed, and the host was o'erthrown;Hurrah! hurrah! for Cœur-de-Lion!