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

'Clept Dem'selle Scratchclaw ere she died;
By Reynard's bite decapitated —
This wise the tidings were related.
Close to the throne the Cock drew nigh:
Deep anguish dimm'd his upturn'd eye:
Two little Bantams, right and left,
Wept bitter tears, as birds bereft.
Sir Flapwing was of high degree,
As fine a bantling as you'd see
'Twixt Amsterdam and Paris, he.
Sir Strain-neck was the other 'clept,
And, like the first one, proudly stept.
Before them each a torch they bear,
Alike the same; for twins they were.
Young Cocks yet twain bare up the pall,
And help'd the wail with voices small.
Then Chanticleer, before the King
Commenced, in tones deep harrowing:
'Ah, gracious Lord and King! give ear
To my disastrous tale! The tear
Of pity shed on us who stand
For justice, suppliants at your hand.
Sire! thus it chanced; – The frosted beard
Of Winter scarce had disappear'd;
Scarce had the thorny brake put by
Its hosiery of fleece, and I
As happy felt as though a chicken;
About me, strutting, crowing, picking,
In comeliness my little ones:
I counted up ten stalwart sons;
Of daughters, too, a wondrous store, —
Plump Ortolans, and full a score.
My dame, the thoughtful prudent Hen,
Had train'd their youth beneath her ken
All virtues cardinal to practise,
Best learned from mothers, as the fact is.
Our house was in the convent yard,
High wall'd around: six dogs stood guard; —
All kept for our peculiar care,
By night and day to shield us there.
Now, gracious Liege! mark what I tell.
Reynard, (the knave!) with cockle-shell
And pilgrim's staff, wellworn, appears,
Bearing a packet: as he nears,
I note your royal seal, and read
Announcement of the truce decreed:
No more, he said, he played the royster,
But sought repentance in a cloister:
Observed the rule o' th' strictest sect,
His sins to purge with sure effect;
Whereby myself might to the end
My life secure and fearless spend.
Said he, 'flesh diet I have sworn
Never to touch from night to morn.' —
Unto my children all, I stated
The royal message, then related
How Reynard had assumed the cowl,
And left off hankering after fowl.
Myself I led them far and wide,
When lo! the Fox's guile defied
My anxious cares: in that same hour
He'd mark'd a victim for his power!
Perdu behind a bush he lay,
And took, before mine eyes, his prey!
The best of all my brood he seized,
And ate her up. The morsel pleased
His scoundrel maw – 'twas dainty meat —
And soon he sought another treat. —
Full four-and twenty hopeful chicks
As e'er peck'd corn from out fresh ricks
Were mine, – and now, as I'm alive,
The villain's kill'd them all but five!
Pity, O King! my sorrowing tale:
Grant succour in this hour of wail!
But yesterday, the huntsman's cry
Surprised him in the act to fly
With Scratchclaw's body, which you see
Kill'd by his murd'rous tooth – ah me!
'Tis here as witness of my woe —
Oh that my hardhap to your heart may go!'
Enraged, the King: 'Sir Badger, ho!
The monk your uncle (troth!) doth know
To keep his fast, – the holy man! —
Match me the like of this who can?
What need of further question here?
Draw nigh and listen, Chanticleer!
Ourself your daughter dead will see
Entomb'd with all solemnity
Of dirge and mass, in her last slumber,
And vigils also without number.
This done, from these our lieges true
We'll crave their help and counsel too,
Touching the murder and the vengeance due.'
To Bruin then the King thus spake:
'Bruin! look well you undertake
This journey with dispatch – 'Tis I,
Your Sov'reign, calls upon you – fly!
Be wise and wary: Reynard's guile
Is practised in each crafty wile.'"