He had gone but a little way ere he saw the Lady standing there in a
narrow clearing, her face pale as death, her knees cleaving together, her
body swaying and tottering, her hands hanging down, and the bow and arrow
fallen to the ground; and ten yards before her a great-headed yellow
creature crouching flat to the earth and slowly drawing nigher.
He stopped short; one arrow was already notched to the string, and
another hung loose to the lesser fingers of his string-hand. He raised
his right hand, and drew and loosed in a twinkling; the shaft flew close
to the Lady's side, and straightway all the wood rung with a huge roar,
as the yellow lion turned about to bite at the shaft which had sunk deep
into him behind the shoulder, as if a bolt out of the heavens had smitten
him. But straightway had Walter loosed again, and then, throwing down
his bow, he ran forward with his drawn sword gleaming in his hand, while
the lion weltered and rolled, but had no might to move forward. Then
Walter went up to him warily and thrust him through to the heart, and
leapt aback, lest the beast might yet have life in him to smite; but he
left his struggling, his huge voice died out, and he lay there moveless
before the hunter.
Walter abode a little, facing him, and then turned about to the Lady, and
she had fallen down in a heap whereas she stood, and lay there all
huddled up and voiceless. So he knelt down by her, and lifted up her
head, and bade her arise, for the foe was slain. And after a little she
stretched out her limbs, and turned about on the grass, and seemed to
sleep, and the colour came into her face again, and it grew soft and a
little smiling. Thus she lay awhile, and Walter sat by her watching her,
till at last she opened her eyes and sat up, and knew him, and smiling on
him said: "What hath befallen, Squire, that I have slept and dreamed?"
He answered nothing, till her memory came back to her, and then she
arose, trembling and pale, and said: "Let us leave this wood, for the
Enemy is therein."
And she hastened away before him till they came out at the thicket-side
whereas the hounds had been left, and they were standing there uneasy and
whining; so Walter coupled them, while the Lady stayed not, but went away
swiftly homeward, and Walter followed.
At last she stayed her swift feet, and turned round on Walter, and said:
"Squire, come hither."
So did he, and she said: "I am weary again; let us sit under this quicken-
tree, and rest us."
So they sat down, and she sat looking between her knees a while; and at
last she said: "Why didst thou not bring the lion's hide?"
He said: "Lady, I will go back and flay the beast, and bring on the
hide."
And he arose therewith, but she caught him by the skirts and drew him
down, and said: "Nay, thou shalt not go; abide with me. Sit down again."
He did so, and she said: "Thou shalt not go from me; for I am afraid: I
am not used to looking on the face of death."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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