Sir Guy the Crusader
SIR GUY was a doughty crusader,A muscular knight,Ever ready to fight,A very determined invader,And DICKEY DE LION’S delight.
LENORE was a Saracen maiden,Brunette, statuesque,The reverse of grotesque,Her pa was a bagman from Aden,Her mother she played in burlesque.
A coryphée, pretty and loyal,In amber and redThe ballet she led;Her mother performed at the Royal,LENORE at the Saracen’s Head.
Of face and of figure majestic,She dazzled the cits—Ecstaticised pits;—Her troubles were only domestic,But drove her half out of her wits.
Her father incessantly lashed her,On water and breadShe was grudgingly fed;Whenever her father he thrashed herHer mother sat down on her head.
GUY saw her, and loved her, with reason,For beauty so brightSent him mad with delight;He purchased a stall for the season,And sat in it every night.
His views were exceedingly proper,He wanted to wed,So he called at her shedAnd saw her progenitor whop her—Her mother sit down on her head.
“So pretty,” said he, “and so trusting!You brute of a dad,You unprincipled cad,Your conduct is really disgusting,Come, come, now admit it’s too bad!
“You’re a turbaned old Turk, and malignant—Your daughter LENOREI intensely adore,And I cannot help feeling indignant,A fact that I hinted before;
“To see a fond father employingA deuce of a knoutFor to bang her about,To a sensitive lover’s annoying.”Said the bagman, “Crusader, get out.”
Says GUY, “Shall a warrior ladenWith a big spiky knob,Sit in peace on his cobWhile a beautiful Saracen maidenIs whipped by a Saracen snob?
“To London I’ll go from my charmer.”Which he did, with his loot(Seven hats and a flute),And was nabbed for his Sydenham armourAt MR. BEN-SAMUEL’S suit.
SIR GUY he was lodged in the Compter,Her pa, in a rage,Died (don’t know his age),His daughter, she married the prompter,Grew bulky and quitted the stage.