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“Days, weeks and months thus, sadly, passed
Until the lot fell out at last
To send the king's own, lovely daughter
Unto the wicked beast for slaughter.”

“O Father, you must let me go
These days of waiting have been slow...
At least those poor and silly sheep
Were not, by fear, deprived of sleep.”  

“Calling for aid upon the Lord.
Signing the cross, George draws his sword:
His heart stung by the maiden’s plight
He’s mettlesome, eager to fight.”

“The beast, relying on his size
Is quickly taken by surprise:
Five times George stabs his underbelly
Where all the scales are soft as jelly.”


Here are a few scenes from St George and the Dragon, a unique play in verse, written by R. M. Moss and based on the tale told in The Golden Legends - stories of the saints which were already old when published by Caxton in 1483 - and are thus the most authentic source available. A revised version of this play is to be found in Book III of To Save the Lost.

It was not unusual for members of the nobility to entertain their own households with plays and recitations - even royalty enjoyed letting their hair down on occasions, although, as Froissart relates in his chronicles, in 1393 the entertainment once went horribly wrong in the French court when the king and five of his nobles dressed as woodwoses in costumes using pitch and flax. His own torchbearers were warned to keep their distance but those of a latecomer came too close and set them afire. In the translation by Lord Berners, Froissart relates: “None durste come nere theym; they that dyd brente their handes by reason of the heate of the pytche. One of them, called Nanthorillet advysed hym (the king) howe the botry was therby; he fled thyder, and cast himselfe into a vessell full of water wherin they rynsed pottes, whiche saved hym, or els he had been deed as the other were...”