Noblesse Oblige?

The old King took to the battle and leapt into the fencers fray. “Noblesse oblige” his cronies cry. “Our King will save the day!” He was a bull to their gazelle nae a fair fight, nae by half; he'd fight just to see the thralls fall he ‘d pierce those peacocks for a laugh! His continence was so fearsome. His two burly arms a rare threat. Some would nae fight His Majesty nor fight of his knightly get. “How is this fair?” the Lord’s lament. How well met can these odd match be? “Unless, of course, ‘twas nae ‘bout fair this was nae called noblesse oblige! In heavy plate with blade and pole with broadsword, He’d bested the field; so, as the fencers broached this game the wiser lads all chose to yield. They would nae raise a blade to him nor would they save for him a dance; many a brave man whispered there and the bolder looked on askance. “Let Him have the day! We’ll nae play Noblesse oblige, my fine backsides!” And, so the fancy fencers fell like pretty harp seals on the tide. There are many a way to win and sure, many a way to loose. Yet ‘tis the metal of the man shows in the way that he chooses.