ep,
without any moral that I can discover.

"It happened that my maid left on the table in my bedchamber, one of her
story books (as she calls them) which I took up, and found full of
strange impertinences, fitted to her taste and condition; of poor
servants that came to be ladies, and serving-men of low degree, who
married kings' daughters. Among other things, I met this sage
observation, 'That a lion would never hurt a true virgin.' With this
medley of nonsense in my fancy I went to bed, and dreamed that a friend
waked me in the morning, and proposed for pastime to spend a few hours in
seeing the parish lions, which he had not done since he came to town; and
because they showed but once a week, he would not miss the opportunity. I
said I would humour him; though, to speak the truth, I was not fond of
those cruel spectacles; and if it were not so ancient a custom, founded,
as I had heard, upon the wisest maxims, I should be apt to censure the
inhumanity of those who introduced it." All this will be a riddle to the
waking reader, till I discover the scene my imagination had formed upon
the maxim, "That a lion would never hurt a true virgin." "I dreamed, that
by a law of immemorial time, a he-lion was kept in every parish at the
common charge, and in a place provided, adjoining to the churchyard:
that, before any one of the fair sex was married, if she affirmed herself
to be a virgin, she must on her wedding day, and in her wedding clothes,
perform the ceremony of going alone into the den, and stay an hour with
the lion let loose, and kept fasting four-and-twenty hours on purpose. At
a proper height, above the den, were convenient galleries for the
relations and friends of the young couple, and open to all spectators. No
maiden was forced to offer herself to the lion; but if she refused, it
was a disgrace to marry her, and every one might have liberty of calling
her a whore. And methought it was as usual a diversion to see the parish
lions, as with us to go to a play or an opera. And it was reckoned
convenient to be near the church, either for marrying the virgin if she
escaped the trial, or for burying the bones when the lion had devoured
the rest, as he constantly did."

To go on therefore with the dream: "We called first (as I remember) to
see St. Dunstan's lion, but we were told they did not shew to-day: From
thence we went to that of Covent-Garden, which, to my great surprise, we
found as lean as a skeleton, when I