Large Fierce Mammal

The Knight Errant , Sir John Everett Millais, 1870 (Click to enlarge)

“The Knight Errant is a large painting in which the figures are almost life size. When shown at the Royal Academy in 1870, it was accompanied by a text of Millais’s own invention which was printed in the exhibition catalogue: ‘The order of Knights errant was instituted to protect widows and orphans, and to succour maidens in distress.’ The moonlit scene apparently depicts an act of medieval chivalry in which one such Knight errant, clad in armour (based on examples that Millais had seen in the Tower of London), is on the point of freeing a woman who has been stripped and tied to a tree. The tree, a Silver Birch, was commonly identified with the female gender in the nineteenth century and was sometimes referred to as ‘Lady Birch’. Birch twigs were also traditionally used in flagellation. The woman’s clothes lie on the ground to the left and her molesters, assumed to be robbers by one critic, are seen fleeing the scene in the top right corner of the canvas. There is blood on the Knight’s sword and the torso of a dead man is visible behind him.” ~ The Tate Gallery

Today’s poem was inspired by a couple of things, but most notably by the painting that appears at the top of this piece. In decades of close examination, I’ve always felt the knight’s sword to be poised in a moment of hesitation, and his facial expression to be reflective of lascivious second thoughts. Ah well, that’s probably just me, and … well, you know how I am.

Today’s bit of rhyme tells the tale of long suffering and painfully virtuous Sir Jonathan of Dragon’s Glen who can’t ever really seem to take a hint, notwithstanding the reminders of his codpiece. Reminiscent of, although somewhat skewed from, the Castle Anthrax scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

The Knight Errant

By LFM

Sir Jonathan of Dragon’s Glen,
He held no fear of pain or death,
Exuding manly virtue in
His every thought and deed and breath.

And so it comes as no surprise,
Whilst riding through a moonlit glade,
He heard a cry upon the wind,
And spurred his mount to render aid.

Soon it was he came to find
A comely maiden bound and bare,
Tight against a Birchen Tree
That lay within a blackguard’s lair.

Without a thought the Errant Knight
Did put the blackguard to the sword,
And driving off his minions three
He sought to see the maid restored.

Releasing her from bondage then,
The maid now wrapped and woolen cloaked,
Sir Jon cast off temptations dark,
The way he found her had evoked.

Then placing her upon his Horse,
He swore no harm would there befall,
And urged the worthy charger on
To bring her to her Father’s hall.

Yet all the way along the road,
He felt his codpiece dwindling.
Until he feared the wood within
Would splinter into kindling.

Her scent, the way her comely thigh
Was pressed to his, her tresses fair,
He saw were wrapped around her wrists,
As though ’twere used to bind them there.

At last, ahead, a light was seen,
That grew to be a manor grand,
Wherein the maiden lived with her
Goode Father, Lord of all the land.

The maid at last in home’s embrace,
These words by grateful Lord were spake,
“Sir Jon, of all within my hold,
“What would be yours is yours to take!”

Man of virtue that he was,
Sir Jon looked to the rising sun,
And thought before he spoke to claim
The offered prize his deeds had won.

“My Lord,” he said, “I’d ask this boon,
“That you would lock your daughter fair
“In chastity, then toss the key
“Down deepest well and leave it there.”

“For though I’m sworn to rescue maids,
“And ravishment I’ll not condone,
“Thy naked daughter, tied to trees –
“Tonight’s twelve times this week alone!”