Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 368, June 1846. Various

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      "Hark! hark! the tuckets sound on high!

      'He comes! Sir Isengrim!' they cry.

      The Wolf and all his kith and kin

      Approach in long array! The din

      Their multitudinous trampling made

      Resounded like a cavalcade

      Of mailèd warriors on the march,

      Or winds that, through a wood of larch,

      The groaning branches swing and sway,

      And thunder out and roar alway.

      Still forward they their course observe,

      Neither to right nor left they swerve;

      But onward to the lists the band

      March up, then halt, and take their stand.

      When first the Wolf – 'I here repeat

      The Fox a villain is, and cheat!

      I brand him murderer to boot!

      Adulterer! with heart, as soot

      Is, black! that solemn truth do I

      Wager on hazard of this die!'

      Then Reynard – 'What the Wolf alleges

      Are lies! I'll prove it! and my pledge is

      The victory, which I by battle,

      This day will gain o'er yon base cattle!'

      The marshal of the lists then cried:

      'The right shall by the might be tried,

      What fair and fetis is, that do!

      The god of battles prosper you!'

      He said, then towards the side withdrew.

      The rest soon follow'd; save the two,

      Who occupied alone the space,

      And stood for action face to face!

      The marshal now, with plumed hat on,

      Beside the barrier stood; his baton

      Of office thrice he whirled aloft;

      And not a soul or spake or cough'd.

      'Oyez! oyez! oyez!' he cried,

      'Will each of ye the issue bide?'

      'We will!' they answer. 'Are ye ready?'

      'Yes!' 'Yes!' – 'Then LAISSEZ ALLER!' said he.

      Reynard address'd him then to fight;

      And Isengrim commenced to bite

      The air, and show'd his teeth, by way

      Of prelude to the coming fray;

      Next, rear'd his snout, and brought the jowl

      To Reynard's level; one loud howl

      He utter'd, ere he crouch'd, then bounded

      To where the Fox, no whit astounded

      By noises so unknightly, stood;

      For raising lofty as he could

      His voice, the foe the terms defied.

      'Come on,' he resolutely cried.

      The struggle was commenced! The sternest

      There present felt it was right earnest;

      The Fox, as smaller of the two,

      Was favourite; and when he drew

      'First claret,' at that tapping action

      The mob express'd their satisfaction;

      Exclaiming, 'go it! ten to oneUpon the varmint little 'un!'

      By this time had Dan Phœbus clomb

      The summit of his glowing dome,

      And Isengrim his power to feel

      Began, which made the Wolf to reel.

      He mourn'd his hapless want of claws,

      His teeth, too, batter'd by the paws

      Of Reynard, woefully he miss'd;

      For grasp'd within his well-clench'd fist,

      The Fox a flint stone firmly held,

      With which he deftly aim'd and fell'd

      One after t'other every fang,

      Till down his weasand, at each bang,

      Successively they flew. This thing

      To Isengrim so punishing,

      Set him forthwith to calculate

      The odds on his superior weight,

      How best it might the foeman tell on —

      Which done, he threw himself pêle-mêle on

      The Fox, to bear him down intending.

      But Reynard saw: instead of spending

      His strength in any vain endeavour

      'Gainst Isengrim, he waited ever

      Upon the Wolf – so this time he

      Perceived the rushing enemy,

      And as he near'd him slipp'd aside.

      The Wolf came on with awful stride,

      But meeting not with Reynard there,

      He buffeted the yielding air

      Instead, found no impediment,

      His force him to the barrier sent,

      Where toppling heels o'er head he went

      With emphasis – a heavy flop,

      'My eyes,' the СКАЧАТЬ