ACT 1.

Walter Tyrrel, the son of a Norman Papa, Has, somehow or other, a Saxon Mamma: Though humble, yet far above mere vulgar loons, He's a sort of a Sub in the Rufus dragoons; Has travell'd but comes home abruptly, the rather That some unknown rascal has murder'd his father; And scarce has he pick'd out, and stuck in his quiver, The arrow that pierc'd the old gentleman's liver, When he finds, as misfortunes come rarely alone, That his Sweetheart has bolted,--with whom is not known. But, as murder will out, he at last finds the lady At court, with her character grown rather shady; This gives him the "Blues," and impairs the delight He'd have otherwise felt when they dub him a Knight For giving a runaway stallion a check, And preventing his breaking King Rufus's neck.