12

KING ALFRED AND THE CAKES.

[ALFRED kneels upon the prostrate body of GuTHRUM, and

disposes of him in the Sollowing manner.

ALF. Down, down, to what-d’ ye-call the place, and say

 

I sent you there to make a longish stay.

What’s to be done with him? It’s very clear

This defunct Ferguson can ’t lodge here.

Were I the master here, I might be led—

To grind his bones to make the people bread ;

But as I play the workman’s humble part,

I’ve not the int’rest of the firm at heart.

He’s got no parish! No, a Dane’s a foreigner.

The coal-hole! Yes; I'll keep him for the coroner.
He won't keep many days !—a nose would then mark
Something.—Ahem !— Gone, in the state of Denmark.

[Drags GutuRvm to the coal-hole door, and shuts him in.