The kings of Rome, when they hanged a man, denied him burial until the
tenth day. That the friends and relatives of the victim might not steal
the body, an officer of high rank was set to watch the tree by night. If
the body was stolen, the officer was hung up in its place. A knight of
high degree once rebelled against the king, and he was hanged on a tree.
The officer on guard was startled at midnight to hear a piercing shriek
of anguish from a little distance; he mounted his horse, and rode towards
the voice, to discover the meaning. He came to an open grave, where the
common people were buried, and saw a weeping woman loud in laments for
her departed spouse. He sent her home with words of comfort, accompanying
her to the city gate. He then returned to his post. Next night the same
scene was repeated, and as the officer spoke his gentle soothings to her,
a love for him was born in her heart, and her dead husband was forgotten.
And as they spoke words of love, they neared the tree, and lo! the body
that the officer was set to watch was gone. "Begone," he said, "and I
will fly, or my life must pay the penalty of my dalliance." "Fear not, my
lord," she said, "we can raise my husband from his grave and hang him
instead of the stolen corpse." "But I fear the Prince of Death. I cannot
drag a man from his grave." "I alone will do it then," said the woman; "I
will dig him out; it is lawful to cast a dead man from the grave, to keep
a live man from being thrown in." "Alas!" cried the officer, when she had
done the fearsome deed, "the corpse I watched was bald, your husband has
thick hair; the change will be detected." "Nay," said the woman, "I will
make him bald," and she tore his hair out, with execrations, and they
hung him on the tree. But a few days passed and the pair were married.
And now the leopard interlude nears it close. Zabara narrates the
_dénouement_ in these terms: