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The Dragon of Wantley

Mañana se hablará mucho del Dragón de San Jorge, un dragón como los que podemos observar en heráldica y en muchos cuadros, con sus alas de murciélago, un aguijón en la cola y aliento de fuego. Por eso quiero hablar del Dragón de Wantley, con sus cuarenta y cuatro dientes de hierro en sus fauces, grandes alas, un largo aguijón en su cola y un aliento de fuego. Se comía los árboles, el ganado y los niños, y debido a su resuello en llamas ningún hombre se atrevía a aproximársele.

 

El dragón de Wantley (The Dragon of Wantley) es una parodia satírica en verso del siglo XVII sobre un dragón y un valiente caballero. Está incluida en la obra de Thomas Percy 1767 Reliques of Ancient Poetry (Reliquias de Poesía antigua).

 

The Dragon of Wantley

Old stories tell how Hercules
A dragon slew at Lerna,
With seven heads and fourteen eyes,
To see and well discern-a:
But he had a club, this dragon to drub,
Or he ne’er had done it, I warrant ye:
But More of More-hall, with nothing at all,
He slew the dragon of Wantley.
This dragon had two furious wings,
Each one upon each shoulder;
With a sting in his tail as long as a flail
Which made him bolder and bolder.
He had long claw’s, and in his jaws
Four and forty teeth of iron;
With a hide as tough as any buff,
Which did him round environ.

Have you not heard how the Trojan horse
Held seventy men in his belly?
This dragon was not quite so big,
But very near, I’ll tell ye;
Devoured he poor children three,
That could not with him grapple;
And at one sup he ate them up,
As one would eat an apple.

All sorts of cattle this dragon would eat,
Some say he ate up trees,
And that the forests sure he would
Devour up by degrees:
For houses and churches were to him geese and turkeys;
He ate all and left none behind,
But some stones, dear Jack, that he could not crack,
Which on the hills you will find.
Hard by a furious knight there dwelt;
Men, women, girls, and boys,
Sighing and sobbing, came to his lodging,
And made a hideous noise.
Oh, save us all, More of More-hall,
Thou peerless knight of these woods;
Do but slay this dragon, who won’t leave us a rag on,
We’ll give thee all our goods.

This being done, he did engage
To hew the dragon down;
But first he went new armor to
Bespeak at Sheffield town;
With spikes all about, not within but without,
Of steel so sharp and strong,
Both behind and before, arms, legs, and all o’er,
Some five or six inches long.

Had you but seen him in this dress,
How fierce he looked, and how big,
You would have thought him for to be
Some Egyptian porcupig:
He frighted all, cats, dogs, and all,
Each cow, each horse, and each hog:
For fear they did flee, for they took him to be
Some strange, outlandish hedge-hog.

To see this fight all people then
Got up on trees and houses,
On churches some, and chimneys too;
But these put on their trousers,
Not to spoil their hose. As soon as he rose,
To make him strong and mighty,
He drank, by the tale, six pots of ale
And a quart of aqua-vitæ.

It is not strength that always wins,
For wit doth strength excel;
Which made our cunning champion
Creep down into a well,
Where he did think this dragon would drink,
And so he did in truth;
And as he stooped low, he rose up and cried, boh!
And kicked him in the mouth.

Oh, quoth the dragon with a deep sigh,
And turned six times together.
Sobbing and tearing, cursing and swearing
Out of his throat of leather:
More of More-hall, O thou rascal,
Would I had seen thee never;
With the thing at thy foot thou hast pricked my throat,
And I’m quite undone forever.

Murder, murder, the dragon cried,
Alack, alack, for grief;
Had you but missed that place, you could
Have done me no mischief.
Then his head he shaked, trembled and quaked,
And down he laid and cried;
First on one knee, then on back tumbled he;
So groaned, and kicked, and died.

Miércoles, 23 de Abril de 2008 01:04.

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