A new quarter wakes
A Lion, with a boy child caught in its jaws--
Not wishing it harm, went off to the Common
Where secret streams and lairs are found, bearing off his prey--
Gently, unhurt, as one might pick a flower undamaged.
He was a rosy boy, the king's own pride,
Ten-years old, bright eyes fresh with sweetness,
His majesty’s only son, although this aside,
He also had a girl, the boy’s sibling, two years of age.
The monarch suffered much woe, being so old;
His heir the monster's quarry, and all the land
Lay in dread of both the beast and king;
So terrified were all, until there came a knight
Who halted, down the way, asking, "What's the worry?"
So they told the tale, and he leapt to heel, straight to the Ancresse!
At the paladin’s approach, the beast smiled, they joined
To battle. The man and monster, in most desperate duel,
Like warring giants, angry, huge, and cruel.
Though the knight was stout, the lion was stronger,
And pierced the brave warrior’s shining livery,
Scrunching that hero, until he sprawled, alas!
Beneath his shield, all blood and mud and mess:
And then the lion feasted: then returned to rest
Upon its granite bed with sheets of golden leaf.
Nothing stirred in the haunt, the depths lay still.
The sacred stars marched westward
And gentle creatures rested in safe harbours,
The moon appeared, a spectre cast upon the dolmen
But his calm breathing gave assurance to the air.
Suddenly, loud cries and clamors ran out.
Echoes in the heart of silence, horns and hounds
Upsetting the solemn order of the land.
So terrific was this noise that rolled before;
It seemed a large company; or something greater--
An entire army, sent by the forlorn king
With force of arms to restore his little prince to the realm,
Together with the lion's bleeding hide.
Which one was right or wrong? Who could judge?
Who had the greater claim to life? Beast or man?
Only the heavens know! He is the unit, we the specks of nothing.
Arranged in order befitting a great hunt,
They soon saw the lair’s entrance amidst the trees.
"Yes, that’s it! The very mouth of the den!"
The leaves all round muttered, warning the watchers;
Still they stepped forward, nearing it. See now,
Their number was sufficient, as there were a thou--
Good Lord! all in a moment, there was its face!
Frightful! They saw the lion! Not one foot
Further did any venture; but clutching for quivers
They targeted the beast. He, in his turn,
As calm as the mountain in the hail and the sleet,
Bristled majestically from his mane to his tail,
And shook fifty missiles clear from his glorious fur,
But was unaffected, took no heed; his gaze remained fixed,
He roared, a hoarse, vibrant, vengeful, dread,
A rolling, raging peal of wrath, which carried,
Making the half-awakened thunder ask,
From its black bed of sky, “Who thunders there?"
They had heard enough! Sheer horror cleared the scene;
As fogs are driven by the wind, that valorous host
Melted, dispersed to every quarter of the horizon,
Panic-stricken by that monstrous rumbling roar.
Then said the lion, "Woods and stone and sea, behold,
A thousand men, enslaved, fear one beast free!"
He ascended the stone-capped kop, climbed to its crown,
Lifted his voice, and, as the sower casts
The seed downwind, so did that lion project
His message so far so that in Town they heard:
"King! Your behavior is not worthy of speech!
Thus far I've wrought no harm to him your son;
But now I give you notice--when night is over,
I will come into Town, through its gates,
Bringing the prince alive; and those who wait
To see him in my jaws--your witless lackeys--
Shall see me devour him in your palace!"
Next morning, this is what was seen in Town:
Dawn came--people went--some prostrate
Praying, some crying; with pale cheeks, swift of foot,
And a huge lion stalking along the cobbles, boy child to mouth.
It seeming nothing short of rash folly
To cross its path as the fierce beast went by.
So to the palace and its gilded dome
With stately steps unchallenged he roamed;
Then he entered, bounding into the palace halls!
Yet no one was there to be seen! Indeed, though he raged and wept,
His majesty, like everyone else, had fled in fear to take shelter,
Desperate just to survive, holding his breath,
Though so precious to the realm. Now death
Is not feared by honest beasts of prey;
And when the lion found that the king had run to hide,
Ashamed to be so grand, whilst man was so cowardly and low,
He muttered to himself, "A wretched king!
Oh well; I shall eat his fruits!" Then, wandering,
Lordly he traversed the courts and corridors,
Paced beneath vaults of gold, past noble banners,
Glanced at the throne deserted, stalked from hall
To hall-green, yellow, crimson--empty every one!
Rich couches void, soft seats unoccupied!
And as he walked he looked from end to end
To find some pleasant nook to enjoy his meal,
Since his appetite had worked up at last to feast
Upon the princely morsel!--Ah! what a sight to behold
That grisly loiterer In the palace grounds
In a quiet alcove in the garden meanwhile, there lay
A tiny thing--forgotten in the general chaos and terror,
Lulling in rest in the flower-sweet dreams of infancy,
Bathed with soft sunlight falling in broken shards
Through leaf and lattice--at that moment beginning to wake;
A lovely little maid, most dear and cherished,
The prince's sister, the king’s other child,--all alone, in infant robes--
She sat up singing: children sing so best.
So charming was this beauteous baby-maid; and so
The beast caught sight of her and stopped–
Silently stalking into this nursery, trembling floorboards gasping.
Above the playthings by the little bed
The lion placed his massive, shaggy face,
Dreadful with savage might and lordly scorn,
Even more so with the princely prey secure in its mouth;
Which she, quickly seeing, cried, "Brother, brother!”,
"Oh, my dear brother!" and, with not a shred of fear,
She gazed upon that monster of the Common,
Whose gold, blazing eyes not even the sun had withstood,
And--well! Who knows what thoughts small creatures hold?
She rose up in her cot--to her full height and valour,
And shook her little finger angrily at him.
At which--close to the little bed's white edge,
All dainty silk and laces--this huge brute
Set down her brother gently at her feet,
Just as a mother might, and said to her,
"Don't be angry, now! There he is, dear, there!"
Deputy Gilliat
Legend of the Age
Vale