Carrica’s Viper
(to the tune of … [well, if you can’t figure it out for yourself
there’s no hope for you])
Now this is the tale of
our slug- a- bed
She’s there for a long,
long time
A vi- per coiled
in- side her bag
Which she will not
be- slime.
A- woke Car- ric-
a with the snake
And did not dare
to move;
The oth- ers gath-
ered ‘round her bed,
Their help she did
be- hoove.
Some said to jerk
the cov- ers back
And smash the snake
ex- posed;
Some said to cap-
ture ro- dents to
Lure snake out from
bed clothes.
Small Ze- phyr said
to make loud noise
And drive the snake
a- way.
The oth- ers tal-
king did not hear
To say her yea
nor nay.
So Ze- phyr wan-
dered to and fro
To feed and groom
the stock.
And as she passed
Car- ric- a’s bed
Her plight Ze- phyr
did mock.
Car- ric- a thus
in- censed to wrath
Took knife to vi-
per slice
But hamp- ered by
bed clothes and rage
She cut her shoul-
der twice.
The oth- ers then
tore up the bed:
The vi- per they
did cream.
Mean- while Ze- phyr
the hor- ses led
To wa- ter at
the stream.
Then up sprang Car-
ric- a full sore
Grabbed vi- per by
the tail;
And run- ning down
to Ze- phyr’s back
She used it like
a flail.
Rep- tiles and snakes
too slow- ly die
The vi- per on
her back
Sank fangs in deep,
and with them set,
Emp- tied its poi-
son sac.
Down falls Ze- phyr
in- to a faint
Her blood starts to
con- geal.
The cler- ic Ahb
prays to her God:
This wound she can-
not heal.
Then Sha- dow leaps
on- to a horse
Lo- thar hands Ze-
phyr up;
If there is aught
Sha- dow can do
Ze- phyr will pass
this cup.
The horse he gal-
lops back to town
To find there- in
a cure.
The horse he whips
to fas- ter speed
Per- mits not one
de- tour.
But at the edge
of town his steed
Al- though of val-
iant heart
Comes to a stop,
falls to the ground
Its soul does then
de- part.
Ta- king small Ze-
phyr in his arms
And run- ning up
main street
Sha- dow comes to
a chem- ist’s shop
Some aid to there
en- treat.
A pot- ion small
with- in a vial
Is held to Ze-
phyr’s lips
Her blood is cold,
her vis- ion dark
But from the flask
she sips.
A bright- er day
than aught could say:
Ze- phyr has won
this bout.
A- pol- o- ge-
tic Car- ric- a
Must pay for horse
and draught.
So that was the tale of
our slug- a- bed
And here its mor-
al deep:
Do not taunt those
in dire dis- tress
Lest you their for-
tune reap.