Chapter VI

His cap of wit, the Giant's gift,
Informed him where the Prince to find;
And he has donned his "Walker's" swift,
And, leaving chough and crow behind,
His Royal Highness soon has joined.
"Jack," said the Prince, for fun agog,
"Get up behind, you jolly dog!"

So up he jumps, and on they jog.
They soon have gained the secret bower,
Where, spell-bound by the warlock's power,
Was kept in "quod" that lady bright:
She was remarkably polite,
Displayed before them such a spread!
Oh! gracious goodness, how they fed!

No lack of turtle-soup was there,
Of flesh, and fowl, and fish,
Of choicest dainties, rich and rare;
Turbot and lobster-sauce, and hare;
And turtle, plenty, and to spare;
And sweets enough to make you stare,
And every sort of dish.

And there were floods of Malvoisie,
Champagne, and Hock, and Burgundy,
Sauterne, and Rhein-wine, and Moselle;-
It was a bouquet, sooth, to smell;
And there was Port and Sherry;--well;
And more liqueurs than I can tell.

VII.

When the banquet was ended the lady arose,
And her cherry lips wiped, and her lily white nose;
And she gazed on the gallant young Prince with a sigh,
And a smile on her cheek, and a drop in her eye.

"My lord," she addressed him, "I beg you 'll excuse
What I'm going to say, for alas! I can't choose;
You must guess who this handkerchief pockets to-night
To-morrow, or die if you don't guess aright!"

She poured out a bumper, and drank it up half,
And gave the bold Prince the remainder to quaff;
Wherewith through the "back-flat" her exit she made,
And left the young gentleman rather afraid.

VIII.

When the Prince retired to bed,
He scratched, and thus bespoke his head:-

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"Where, oh! where, my upper story,
Wilt thou be to-morrow night?
Into what a mess, for glory,
Rushes bold and amorous wight!"

Jack dons, meanwhile,
His "knowing tile,"--
How ripe he looked for a regular "lark;"
He asks about,
And soon finds out,
That the lady was forced to go out in the dark
Every night,
By the pale moon light,
To give the magician, fierce and fell,
All so late,
A _tête-à-tête_,
In the gloomy depth of a forest dell.

In his coat and his shoes at mail-train pace,
He hies him to the trysting place.

He travels so fast that he does n't get there
Too late, as the saying is, for the fair;
But he has to wait before she comes,
Cooling his heels and biting his thumbs.

IX.

At length appears the warlock, dight
In dressing gown of gramarye;
And, like a spirit of the night,
Elegantly dressed in white,
Approaches now the fair ladye,
And gives him the handkerchief, you see;

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"Now!" 'cried courageous Jack, "or never!
Die, catiff, die! "
(And he lets fly)
"Thus from its trunk thy head I sever."

X.

To be a conjuror, 'tis said,
In sooth a man requires a head;
So Jack, by this decapitation,
Dissolved, of course, the conjuration.

The damsel fair, bewitched no more,
Becomes bewitching as before;
Restored to virtue's blooming grace,
Which so improves the female face--
A kalydor of high perfection,
That beautifies the worst complexion.

XI.

The licence was bought, and, the bells ringing gay,
The prince and the lady were married next day,
All decked out so smart in their bridal array.

The happy pair, the nuptials o'er,
Start in a handsome coach-and-four
For good King Arthur's court;
Jack, on the box in easy pride,
Sits by the portly coachman's side--
Oh, my! what bows they sport.

The train behind that followed--oh!
It far outshone the Lord Mayor's show;

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And e'en the grand display
When, to our Prince to give a name,
His Majesty of Prussia came
To England t' other day.

XII.

Now Arthur's seat they reach: not that
Where royal Arthur never sat--
Dun Edin's famous mound.

Loud shouts of joy the welkin crack,
And Arthur dubs our hero Jack,
Knight of the Table Round.

And now, in Pleasure's syren lap,
Sir Jack indulges in a nap-
I crave his grace--Sir John!

Flirts with the fairest dames at court,
And drinks, noblest lords, the port--
This comes of "getting on."

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JACK SETTLES THE REMAINING GIANTS AND SETTLES DOWN