ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON. FROM the Pepysian Collection, and probably of the time of James the First. Or Hector's deeds did Homer sing, Against the Saracens so rude, Fought he full long and many a day, Now, as the story plain doth tell, Within that country then did rest Did The grief whereof did grow so great, To shew their cunning, out of hand, The wise men all before the king, This answer framed, incontinent, When this the people understood, They cried out most piteously: No means there were, as they could hear, * In the Chivalric ages, dragons formed a striking class in Natural History: they had a most unhappy and wicked custom of eating young ladies, which, however, was generally, in the most interesting cases, frustrated by the appearance of some gallant and generous Knight, who spitted the dragon instead, and was of course rewarded with the hand of the lady, who, in addition to perfect beauty, was adorned with every virtue. So far it is a pretty fable. But "the age of chivalry is gone," as said the eloquent Burke: and the dragons of romance are gone with it,-wings, tails, and all. Yet it is to be feared that the fair sex meet with too many biped ones, who would indeed devour them !-and against whom, in this selfish age, they may look in vain for a generous champion. This thing by art the wise men found, Untimely crop some virgin flower, And none were left him to devour, Saving the King's fair daughter bright, Her father's only heart's delight. Then came the officers to the King, O! let us all be poisoned here, Ere she should die that is my dear. Then rose the people presently, And to the King in rage they went: They said his daughter dear should die, The Dragon's fury to preventOur daughters are all dead, quoth they, And have been made the Dragon's prey. And by their blood we rescued were, And thou hast saved thy life thereby, And now, in sooth, it is but fair For us thy daughter thus should die. O, save my daughter, said the King, And let me feel the Dragon's sting! Then fell fair Sabra on her knees, And to her father dear did say, O father, strive not thus for me, 'Tis better I should die, she said, For my offence to work his spite, What hast thou done, my daughter dear, It is my fault, as may appear, Which makes the Gods our state to purge Then ought I die to stint the strife, And to preserve thy happy life. Like madmen, all the people cried, In making her the Dragon's food.* Nay, stay, dear daughter, quoth the Queen; * Of such fabulous instances of exposure to monsters, the classical story of Andromeda, and more especially that of Hesione, afford instances in point, with many others. Abundance is also to be found in the early romancers, and in Ariosto, Spenser, &c. And when she was attired so, According to her mother's mind, To which her tender limbs they bind. Farewell, my father dear, quoth she, And my sweet mother, meek and mild; The King and Queen, and all their train, To be the hungry dragon's prey ; * Of this tutelar Champion of England, very little certain is known, beyond the fact of his having been a martyr in the reign of Diocletian, about A. D. 300. It is probable, from the traditions current of his history, that he was a person distinguished for valour, and perhaps an officer in the Roman army. Dr. Milner, a late titular Roman Catholic Bishop, published a treatise on his existence and exploits. The outline of this legend is taken from the romance of Sir Bevis; in which are some particulars, not adopted here, which Mr. Ellis, in his prose epitome, has placed in rather a ludicrous light. At the first onset, the dragon whipped Sir Bevis with his tail, into a well; and well it was for the Knight he did so, as this was a sainted stream, and endowed with healing properties, by virtue of which Sir Bevis sprung up into the upper regions,-like Antæus from the earth,-with renewed vigour. Twice, or three times more was he flapped backwards into the same receptacle, by the irresistible tail; but at length he succeeded in disabling his truculent enemy, by slicing off a portion, several feet in length, of this useful and ornamental appendage, thus curtailing the dragon of one of his most formidable weapons; and then attacking "the very head and front of his offending," he put a final stop to all his outrages and gambols for the future. |