Page:Andromeda, and other poems - Kingsley (1858).djvu/172

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THE RED KING.
There's Tyrrel as sour as I, perdie,So he of you all shall hunt with me;A grimly brace for a hart to see.'
 The Red King down from Malwood came;His heart with wine was all aflame,His eyne were shotten, red as blood,He rated and swore, wherever he rode.
They roused a hart, that grimly brace,A hart of ten, a hart of grease,Fled over against the kingés place.The sun it blinded the kingés ee,A fathom behind his hocks shot he: 'Shoot thou,' quod he, 'in the fiendés name,To lose such a quarry were seven years' shame.'And he hove up his hand to mark the game.Tyrrel he shot full light, God wot;For whether the saints they swerved the shot,'Or whether by treason, men knowen not,
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