The richest of them all came bearing chests of gold
Then came a knight in black-his armor stained in blood.
A stallion bought with hangman's coin brings the man of greed,
The last a youthful brute of twenty-His eyes a virgin's end.
"Wassail all ye valouring brave,
Gather to my kingdom fair!
A fortnight from this morrow's eve,
A test of heroes I declare!
For He who rides to Glory's table
My daughter's hand receives,
Become a legend told in fable
The heir to my nobility!"
One from the highlands, his garb trimmed in gold,
One night from the lowest vale and foul deeds untold.
Another so full of greed he'd sell you for your life,
One night fro the maidens, he'd claimed a thousand lives!
With Flags unfurled and lances couched, the cutpurse and the Scot
Did charge across the tourney's field, but both would meet demise,
The Highland sword did find its mark, but from the brigand's cloak
Came a hidden dagger to the noble Scotsman's eyes!
"Wassail…"
The Blaggard clashed with maiden's hero and fell to woe's betide,
Though he'd tipp'd his lance with poison, his failure was his pride.
The handsome hero rose to vict'ry, soon to claim his prize,
He called her name in triumph-and her father realized….
Her name had not been spoken outside the castle walls!
The King rose in a fury, and shouted for the guards,
He ripped his taken daughter out of her lover's arms,
And smiled as the Brute of twenty was murdered for his charms!