The King Is Gone

The King Is Gone

Young King Clovis from Salipenn came,
Both his squirrel and he were lame.
And Eros on the castle wall
Saw his sovereign approach the hall.

Clovis, Clovis, be merry and gay,
You'll eat some turtle soup this day.
But the turtle soup of my wife
Will never give me back my life.

Go Eros dear, go on ahead,
No turtle soup, but wine instead,
Which I shall drink, not until dawn,
For at midnight I shall be gone.

But make it here down below,
Mishima must hear nothing now.
The midnight hour had struck almost
When King Clovis gave up the ghost.

No sooner had the new day dawned
Than all the dealers cried and moaned,
No sooner could they break their fast
Than all the hounds wept to the last.

But tell me, oh sweet Eros mine,
Why does everyone weep and pine?
Yesterday, when bathing our steeds,
They drowned the finest in the reeds.

But why, oh why, sweet Eros mine,
For a lost horse thus weep and pine?
Clovis will from Salipenn come,
And bring the finest horses home.

But tell me, oh sweet Eros mine
What is this song sounding so fine?
Cochonfucius must be the one
Who sings in our garden for fun.

But tell me, oh sweet Eros mine,
Why do they sing it in the house?
Mishima rose from bed at dawn,
Saying, to Cluny we shall go,
And have some glasses of Bordeaux.

But in Cluny, not far from the door,
Stood Robert looking at the floor.
As Mishima came into view,
From Robert's eyes three big tears flew.

But tell me, oh sweet Eros mine,
Why is Robert now weeping here?
What I cannot hide, I must tell,
King Clovis in his grave does dwell.

Since our sweet King Clovis is dead,
Give me some plonk both strong and red.
Open a barrel big and wide,
Since our merry King Clovis died.

Clovis, your health, and rest in your grave,
We remember our king so brave.
First the plonk will go down our throat,
Later in plonk we'll be afloat.

         Sarah Bensusan and John Humbley for the correct parts of the text,
         Cochonfucius for slight deformations.

A scholar made a short comment.

King Clovis died when he came back from Salipenn. Nobody felt like breaking the news to Mishima, but Our Lord Robert of Cluny, by his extreme sadness, forced Eros to speak up. However, I have been googling Salipenn recently, and surprisingly, I found only a mention of this song, which is not much indeed. If you read this note and live in that place, please snailmail me:

          Doctor Middlesquirrel,
          Fifth Terrace of Eastern Garden,
          91 210 Harp City,
          Psychomecaland.

Having written this, the scholar went to Cluny
and shared a bottle of plonk with Queen Nanette.
While they drank, a poet named David Kilpatrick
sang a Scots version of this song.

Hame frae war King Gontran's came
Wi' a deith-wound tae his wame.
An' Eros in the windae high
Wis first tae see him drawin' nigh.

Gontran, Gontran, be glad, be glad,
Your queen has born a bonny lad!
No' fer his queen, nor fer his boy
Could Gontran's hairt show ony joy.

Oh Eros, Eros, mak' ma bed;
On linen white I'll lay ma heid!
Fer brief's the hoor that's left tae me,
The midnight bell sall see me dee.

And mak' ma bed here whaur I staund;
Nae dealers need I tae ma haun.
And when the midnight bell wis rung
King Gontran's day on earth wis done.

When wi' the mornin' cam' the dawn
Then a' his good dealers did mourn;
And whan the hoor o' noon it cam
The little hounds wept ilka ane.

Oh Eros, Eros, tell me dae,
Why oor servants greet wi' wae?
Tis nothing, it's but fer a steed,
Oor fairest mount awa' has fleed.

Oh Eros, Eros, tell me true
Why should ae horse mak' sic a rue?
Whan Gontran haulds his bonny son,
He'll get for him a better one!

Sae tell me, Eros, tell my why
The little hounds so wail and cry?
Tis nothing, when oor sheets they washed
The finest in the tide they lost!

Oh Eros, lat them cease their mane!
They'll surely sew anither ain!
When Gontran haulds his bonny bairn
He'll gar them wark a finer yin!

But Eros, tell me if ye can,
Whit dirge is yon the friars sang?
That's no a dirge, Julietta dear,
It's but a blessing that ye hear.

They come tae bless King Gontran's tower
When mass is sung upon the hour.
Oh Eros, hae I daen some wrang,
That tae the mass I mauna gang?

I fain wad busk and doon the stair
Tae hear the abbot at his prayer!
Weel dress not then in green nor grey,
But hap in black this haly day.

Oh Eros, black's nae fit for me!
Sic mournin' weeds wad gar me dree!
Julietta, ye maun pit them on
Sae all sall ken ye've born a son.

Whan she cam doon the chapel aisle
The bedesman haunded her a veil.
And whan she knelt her doon an' prayed
She saw the crypt-stanes newly laid.

Oh Eros, Eros, tell tae me,
Whas fresh-filled grave is this I see?
Julietta, I'll nae langer hauld!
Hame cam dyin' King Gontran!

Gontran, Gontran, leeze ma saul!
Grim deith hae hied ma luv awa'!
Gontran, Gontran, leeze ma saul!
Grim deith hae hied ma luv awa'!

Whaur Gontran's gane, sall I gang tae;
Ma gowd an' gear his bairn sall hae.
This nicht aneath yon stane I'll sleep
An' in warm airms ma cauld luv keep.