XC.
The garment of Tinogad, [196b] which was of divers colours,
Made of the speckled skins of young wolves,
His jerks and starts and juggling motion,
I fain would lampoon, they were lampooned by his eight slaves. [196c]
When thy father went out to hunt,
With his pole upon his shoulder, and his provisions in his hand,
He would call to his dogs that were of equal size,
Catch it, catch it—seize it, seize it—bring it, bring it;
He would kill a fish in his coracle,
Even as a princely lion in his fury [197a] kills his prey;
When thy father climbed up the mountain,
He brought back the head [197b] of a roebuck, [197c] the head of a wild boar, the head of a stag,
The head of a grey moor hen from the hill,
The head of a fish from the falls of the Derwent; [197d]
As many as thy father could reach with his flesh piercer,
Of wild boars, lions, and foxes, [197e]
It was certain death to them all, [197f] unless they proved too nimble.