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The King beheld his head all gray,
In merriment was pleas'd to say,
Upon this mountain there is snow.
The man says, time will have it so.
The King, to hear some farther sport,
To hear what did the man support;
And farther, in discourse did say,
What dost-thou earn, poor man, a-day?
Two groats a-day, kind. Sir, I earn.
Then said the King, I can't discern
How thy poor life can supply'd be;
It's not enough to nourish thee.
If I may tell you as a friend,
My wife and I but two-pence spend:
And two-pence more, for paying debt,
For which my aged forehead sweat;
And thus a careful life I live,
And we do both lend, spend, and give.
O aged father, said the King,
Thou tell'st to me as strange a thing
As ever any mortal knew!
The man says, it is perfect true:
But Sir to put you out of doubt,
This mystery I will make it out:
And, for the first, My wife and I,
Two-pence a-day can none deny;
My aged parents are yet alive,
My duty, which I do contrive,
