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.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009
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