[275] The Glove and the Lions
King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,
And one day, as his lions fought, sat looking on the court.
The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their pride,
And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he signed:
And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show,
Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.
Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws;
They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;
With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another,
Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous smother;
The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air;
Said Francis then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there."
De Lorge's love o'er heard the King, a beauteous lively dame,
With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed the same;
She thought, The Count my lover is brave as brave can be;
He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me;
King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine;
I'll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine.
She dropped her glove, to prove his love, then looked at him and smiled;
He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild:
The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained his place,
Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.
"By Heaven," said Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where he sat;
"No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like that."
-- James Leigh Hunt
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This is the third of Hunt's widely anthologised poems, and, like Abou Ben
Adhem, demonstrates a nice combination of simplicity and stylistic polish.
As poems go it's a fairly standard piece of narrative verse - not, perhaps,
as brilliant as Jenny Kissed Me, or as memorable as Abou Ben Adhem, but it
tells a nice story[1], and tells it well. And I love the playfulness that
runs through the rhyme scheme and metre - perhaps the one aspect of Hunt's
poetry that most endears it to me.
[1] as to whether the story has any basis in reality, or even whether it's
drawing upon an existing folk tale, I have no idea.
m.
Links:
The two previous Hunt poems on Minstrels can be found, complete with
biography at poem #103 and poem #153.
There's a nice assessment of Hunt at
http://www.lib.uiowa.edu/spec-coll/Bai/thompson.htm
An excerpt:
Finally, a major virtue of Hunt's poetry is its unpretentiousness, its
freedom, as someone has said, from fustian. Though he revered the high
rhetoric of the great poets, he found his own analogy in an earlier minor
poet, John Pomfret. Speaking of Pomfret's The Choice (1700), Hunt
applauded the earlier poet as one "who knows / The charm that hollows the
least thing from prose, / And dresses it in its mild singing clothes" (p.
540). Hunt's approval is based on his fundamental principle of poetic
classes cited earlier -- that regardless of the order of imagination,
poetry must "spring out of a real impulse" and if it is true to that
impulse, no matter how humble, the result must be recognized for its
value. Such is the case with the best of Hunt's poetry.
From: Abraham Thomas <thomas@>
"as to whether the story has any basis in reality, or even whether it's drawing
upon an existing folk tale, I have no idea."
It's actually based on a border ballad, 'Lady of Carlisle', also known as 'The
Bold Lieutenant', 'The Lion's Den' and 'The Lady's Fan'.
Here's the Grateful Dead's take on the same story:
'Lady With A Fan'
Let my inspiration flow
in token lines suggesting rhythm
that will not forsake me
till my tale is told and done
While the firelight's aglow
strange shadows in the flames will grow
till things we've never seen
will seem familiar
Shadows of a sailor forming
winds both foul and fair all swarm
down in Carlisle he loved a lady
many years ago
Here beside him stands a man
a soldier by the looks of him
who came through many fights
but lost at love
While the storyteller speaks
a door within the fire creaks
suddenly flies open
and a girl is standing there
Eyes alight with glowing hair
all that fancy paints as fair
she takes her fan and throws it
in the lion's den
"Which of you to gain me, tell
will risk uncertain pains of Hell?
I will not forgive you
if you will not take the chance"
The sailor gave at least a try
the soldier being much too wise
strategy was his strength
and not disaster
The sailor coming out again
the lady fairly leapt at him
that's how it stands today
you decide if he was wise
The storyteller makes no choice
soon you will not hear his voice
his job is to shed light
and not to master
Since the end is never told
we pay the teller off in gold
in hopes he will come back
but he cannot be bought or sold
-- words by Robert Hunter, music by Jerry Garcia
from 'Terrapin Station', 1977.
annotation at http://arts.ucsc.edu/gdead/agdl/terr.html
From: "Kim Handsaker" <PhilKim1999@>
The most amazing thing (for me anyway)....
I read this poem in the 7th grade. My grandmother had a book of old poems and this one happened to be there. I have remembered much of it through
the 25 years or so that have passed since my reading of it, but not the author or it's name. :)
Was trying to share it with my wife and we thought of the Internet. Thought I'd give it a shot. Found "Charge of the Light Brigade" and "The Highwayman" by title so typed in "threw the glove poem.." and up it came.
Thank you SO very much for allowing me to recapture a memory. :)
From: MaryMc <marymc@>
I was just watching the video of "A Knight's Tale," a silly but not
so very bad movie that came out a year or two ago. And when the
hero's lady fair asks him to prove his love for her by going against
his nature and his pride and deliberately losing the tournament, just
because she told him to...I instantly thought of this poem. All I
remembered from reading it in elementary school was the line about
"'No love,' quoth he, 'but vanity, sets love a task like that'" but
that was enough to Google my way to this site. Thanks!
--
MaryMc
marymc@
Visit my home on the Web...<http://www.casagordita.com/>!
)
(
"Espresso est, ergo cogito." C[_]
From: "rkpgroup" <rkpgroup@>
THIS POEM IS VERY GOOD THAT I HANOVER READ
From: "Patricia" <originalpatricia@>
Thus a 60-year search is ended, since when I was just eight years old my
mother gave my poetry book to the Boy Scouts for their Bring-and-Buy
sale, this is a wonderful thing all I did was google my way to your
page, OH! the deep joy foldered in the Heart-i'most thanklymuch and
Meric-Crispin Wonders from Patricia.
From: "Regina Forsyth" <rforsyth@>
Thank you for this poem complete. I remember, as apparently do many,
from my early adolescence. I too remember the 'tale' of the poem most
vividly: ["No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like
that."]
I am frequently amazed at how that phrase has come to haunt my adult
life. In some ways, I can honestly said that it changed my life. The
bottom line assessment is one that I have had reason to use more once.
Thank you for giving me the author and the poem in its entirety.
Regina
From: "Emil Khavkin" <emil@>
Is Schiller's 'The Glove' completely unknown to English poetry readers?
From: "Russell" <puersenex@>
line 4, "signed" should read "sighed."
puer senex
From: "Gisela von Brunn" <giselavbw@>
"And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he signed"
>>>This should read: "...with one for whom he sighed"
Unfortunately I don't have the hard copy with me to check the rest...
Gisela v. Brunn, Germany
P.S.: Friedrich Schiller has written a ballad about the same story in
"Der Handschuh" - so maybe there is some basis in history (unless they
copied from each other!).
From: "Bob VandenBoom" <BVBoomer@>
I memorized this poem when I was in the 3rd grade (back in 1968) and have
never forgotten the words!
My daughter, interestingly enough, who is currently in the 3rd grade, is
studying poetry and was asked to bring in any poems that her parents
remembered. I remembered everything except the title and the author, but
thanks to this site, I now have "the rest of the story".
"With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, that always seemed the same"
she'll share the poem with her class.