Jarl Francesc heard the King was old

Jarl Francesc Miguel Joaquim Inacio
fallen in Spring Crown Tourney, A.S. XLII

Jarl Francesc heard the King was old,
So old a Tourney he would hold
To find a man, who’d next be King
An Heir, his line continuing.

A good son now, would Francesc be
No doubt the King would surely see
And with fair Seanach by his side
His Heirs they’d be, till death abide.

So Francesc donned his armor bright
And to the Tourney went to fight.
He found a score of me were there
In hopes that they would be the Heir.

Before he’s quite sure where to stand,
A gauntlet at his feet does land
Von Tannenberg has come to fight
But soon feels proof of Francisc’s might

He now finds Rudolph on the field
And Rudolph hopes to make him yield
But Rudolph finds that’s not to be
And, from his back, the sky does see.

His next foe is young Andrew Baird
Whose sword work never is impaired.
But his defense has room to grow,
And Andrew soon feels vertigo.

Though three have fallen to his blade
He finds Sir Patrick undismayed.
Then Patrick’s sword his helm does pound
And Francesc find’s he’s on the ground.

Sometimes it’s nice to get a rest
But now’s no time to end his quest.
So back he climbs onto his feet
And swears next time he won’t be beat.

Now back he goes onto the field
His trusty broadsword he does wield
Lord Gunnar he does face this time
And Gunnar falls, though in his prime.

Sir Mons comes next, a German bold
With armor that is hard and cold
Jarl Francesc makes a tricky pass
And Mons falls over on the grass.

Now Francesc’s one of three men left
And so his broadsword he does heft.
His foe comes forth without delay.
His name is Edward Senestre

Jarl Francesc makes a bold attack
But Edward gives his helm a smack.
He staggers once, falls like a tree,
Then has a great epiphany.

What need has he of Kingly Crown
When Jarla Seanach is around?
When next to her, he has no need
To prove his might with warrior’s deed.

So back he goes to Seanach’s side
She greets him with arms open wide.
She has no need of crown of gold
If she has Francesc there to hold.

— Sir Robear du Bois

... Thirty years on the field I have fought

And for almost that long, rhymes I’ve sought
Now my armor looks old
And I’m not quite so bold
And my rhymes make my subjects distraught

Copyright

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