The Touching Tenderness of King Karl the First

For hunger and thirst King Karl the FirstHad stoical, stern disdain:The food that he ordered consistently borderedOn what was described as plain.Much trouble his cook ambitiously tookTo tickle his frugal taste,But all of his savoury science and slaveryEnded in naught but waste.

Said the steward: “The thing to tempt the KingAnd charm his indifferent eyeNo doubt is a tasty, delectable pasty.Make him a blackbird pie!”The cook at these words baked twenty-four birds,And set them before the King,And the two dozen odious, bold, and melodiousSingers began to sing.

The King in surprise said: “Dozens of piesIn the course of our life we’ve tried,But never before us was served up a chorusLike this that we hear inside!”With a thunderous look he ordered the cookAnd the steward before him brought,And with a beatified smile: “He is satisfied!”Both of these innocents thought.

“Of sinners the worst,” said Karl the First,“Is the barbarous ruffian thatA song-bird would slaughter, unless for his daughterOr wife he is trimming a hat.We’ll punish you so for the future you’ll knowThat from mercy you can’t depart.Observe that your lenient, kind, intervenientKing has a tender heart!”

He saw that the cook in a neighboring brookWas drowned (as he quite deserved),And ordered the steward at once to be skewered.(The steward was much unnerved.)“It’s a curious thing,” said the merciful King,“That monarchs so tender are,So oft we’re affected that we have suspected thatWe are too kind by far.”

The moral: The mercy of men and KingsAre apt to be wholly dissimilar things.In spite of “The Merchant of Venice,” we’re painedTo note that the quality’s sometimes strained.