runagate," Said he, "let us lodge this King!" 

 They have taken Richard the Lion-heart And fettered him fast and sure, In a narrow cell they have chained him well With chains that shall endure. 

 And even Richard's stout heart fails When he hears the great doors clang, And he knows at last that they have him fast, Whose fame through Europe rang. 

 "Oh, what prevents the crafty Duke From poison or secret knife, For no one knows that Richard goes In disguise, in fear of his life; 

 "My brother John will well believe That I was drowned at sea; Nay, he scarce will ask, but will take the task Of kingship gleefully; 

 "And my people will easily forget Their monarch so little seen, And almost my name will be lost to fame, I shall be as I ne'er had been." 

 Many a weary week and month Must darken prison walls; And the King's eye dims, and his mighty limbs Waste, as the leaf that falls. 

 And his face is blanched, and sorrow sits Carven upon his brow, And his right arm slacks for the battle-axe, The warlike field to plough. 

 And yet and anon comes Leopold His captive lord to see, And revenge to taste, as he sees him waste, "How fares the Lion?" cries he. 

 "Cousinly questioned," says the King, And kingly flashes his eye; "Let the hog beware of the lion's lair, Though the lion couchant lie." 

 And then gives back Duke Leopold, And his laugh has a hollow ring; Once more he goes, and the shadows close Round the head and the heart of the King. 

 Then word comes suddenly, flying fast, "Masters, the King is found!" And from distant lands the poet stands At last upon English ground. 

 "I have found him, Blondel de Nesle! As I wandered, harp in hand, Through breadth and length of Austria's strength, I saw a tower stand, 

 "And nearer drew, I knew not why, Till I heard a man's voice sing With something of skill, and my heart stood still— 'Twas the voice of Richard the King, 

 "Singing a fitte that we both had made Once in a banquet hall, When his heart was light, of a captive knight Who out upon Fate did call. 

 "Then I took up King Richard's words And sang the fitte again, 

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