Long, long ago when castles grim did frown,
When massy wall and gate did 'fend each town;
When mighty lords in armour bright were seen,
And stealthy outlaws lurked amid the green
And oft were hanged for poaching of the deer,
Or, gasping, died upon a hunting spear;
When barons bold did on their rights insist
And hanged or burned all rogues who dared resist;
When humble folk on life had no freehold
And were in open market bought and sold;
When grisly witches (lean and bony hags)
Cast spells most dire yet, meantime, starved in rags;
When kings did lightly a-crusading fare
And left their kingdoms to the devil's care--
At such a time there lived a noble knight
Who sweet could sing and doughtily could fight,
Whose lance thrust strong, whose long sword bit
full deep
With darting point or mighty two-edged sweep.
A duke was he, rich, powerful--and yet
Fate had on him a heavy burden set,
For, while a youth, as he did hunt the boar,
The savage beast his goodly steed did gore,
And as the young duke thus defenceless lay,
With cruel tusk had reft his looks away,
Had marred his comely features and so mauled him
That, 'hind his back, “The ugly Duke” folk called
him--
My daughter GILLIAN interposeth:
GILL: An ugly hero?
MYSELF: That is so.
GILL: An ugly hero, father? O, absurd! Whoever of an “ugly” hero heard?