Poems (Piatt)/Volume 2/Two Hunters
TWO HUNTERS.[ANECDOTE OF VICTOR EMMANUEL, KING OF ITALY.]
They met in the heat of a Southern sun.And how did they look? Oh, I fancy oneWas a picturesque peasant, such as you maySee in a lover's part, at the play.
This hunter was nothing at all, you see,And the other was—everything! But heWas none too handsome, let us suppose,Although his face out-reddened the rose.
These two Italians met, as I said,In a lonesome place where a hare lay dead."It is mine—I shot it," one stormily cried;"It is mine—I shot it," the other replied.
So the beautiful youth went home that nightWith his black eyes blacker yet from the fight."Now," the genial gentleman said, "it is mine—And" (this to himself) "by the right divine."
At morning a carriage was sent to bringThe wondering peasant before the king."Do you know me, sir?" "I'd the honour to fightWith your Majesty, as I fear, last night."
"And I saw by the shot, when the hare was dressed,That it was not mine—forgive me the rest:There's enough for us both—and it was not mine;Come in, I beg you, with me, and dine."