A voice behind the scenes. Don't! You mustn't be so foolhardy. Oh, you are always the same.
King (listening). No naughtiness could feel at home in this spot. Who draws such a rebuke upon himself? (He looks towards the sound. In surprise.) It is a child, but no child in strength. And two hermit-women are trying to control him.
He drags a struggling lion cub,
The lioness' milk half-sucked, half-missed,
Towzles his mane, and tries to drub
Him tame with small, imperious fist.
(Enter a small boy, as described, and two hermit-women.)
Boy. Open your mouth, cub. I want to count your teeth.
First woman. Naughty boy, why do you torment our pets? They are like children to us. Your energy seems to take the form of striking something. No wonder the hermits call you All-tamer.
King. Why should my heart go out to this boy as if he were my own son? (He reflects.) No doubt my childless state makes me sentimental.
Second woman. The lioness will spring at you if you don't let her baby go.
Boy (smiling). Oh, I'm dreadfully scared. (He bites his lip.)
King (in surprise).