Dazzled by the lights, and infuriated with hunger, the savage denizens of the cages set up a most terrific roaring as the party entered the flagged space in front of them. Hairun, who was armed with a stout staff, laid about him in right earnest, and soon produced comparative tranquillity. Still, the din was almost deafening. The animals were numerous, and fine specimens of their kind. There were lions in all postures,—couchant, dormant, passant, and guardant; tigers, leopards, hyaenas, jackals, lynxes, and bears. Among the latter, an old brown bear, presented to Henry the Eighth by the Emperor Maximilian, and known by the name of the imperial donor, particularly attracted their attention, from its curious tricks. At last, after much solicitation from Dames Placida and Potentia, the bearward opened the door of the cage, and old Max issued forth. At first, he was all gentleness, sat upon his hind legs, and received the apples and biscuits given him like a lap-dog, when all at once, his master having stepped aside to quell a sudden disturbance which had arisen in one of the adjoining cages, he made a dart at Dame Placida, who was standing near him, and devouring the fruit and cakes she held in her hand at a mouthful, would have given her a formidable hug, if she had not saved herself by running into his cage, the door of which stood open. Here she would certainly have been caught, if her husband had not rushed to the entrance. Max warily eyed his new opponent, and uttered a menacing growl, but seemed to decline the attack. Dame Placida filled the cage with her shrieks, and alarmed by the cries, all the wild animals renewed their howling. Hairun would have flown to Magog’s assistance, but the latter called to him in a voice of thunder to desist. “I will have no interference,” he roared, “old Max and I understand each other perfectly.” As if he comprehended what was said, the bear replied by a hoarse growl, and displayed his enormous fangs in a formidable manner. Dame Placida renewed her cries, and besought Ribald to come to her assistance. “Stay where you are,” thundered Magog, “I will settle this matter in my own way.” “Help! for mercy’s sake, help!” shrieked Dame Placida,—“never mind him!—help! good Hairun—dear Ribald—help! or I shall be torn in pieces.” Thus exhorted, Ribald and Hairun would have obeyed. But they were prevented by Og and Gog, who began to sec through their brother’s design. “Leave him alone,” they cried, laughing loudly. “He is about to give his dame a lesson.” “Is that all?” replied Hairun. “Then he shall have no interruption from me.” “Barbarian!” cried Dame Placida, appealing to her husband. “Do you mean that I should be devoured! Oh! if ever I do get out, you shall bitterly repent your cruel conduct.” “You never shall get out, unless you promise to amend your own conduct,” rejoined Magog. “I will die sooner than make any such promise,” replied Placida.