  In Aachen Town, in olden days, There dwelt a demon beast, Whose special prey was roysterers Returning from a feast. By day, he lurked in caverns deep Where sulphur waters boil, And dreamt of evil men and deeds, Whilst resting from his toil. By night he issued from the spring, And those, who saw him, said: “His body long and shaggy seemed With oddly flattened head. His eyes burned like two fiery moons That paled the Queen of Night, And when he opened wide his mouth His teeth gleamed sharp and white. His tail, which brushed the ground, was decked With phosphorescent scales, And yet his paws were like a bear’s With long, protruding nails.” His head and legs were wreathed in chains, Which rattled as he went Along the narrow, winding streets On pranks and mischief bent. He gambolled like a monstrous calf Of breed unknown and strange, And drunken men were filled with fear Who happened on his range. His egress led along the drain, Whence comes, from far below, The boiling, seething sulphur stream Whose waters ever flow. Before the large Bath House was built, A wide canal was made To hold this healing flood, and there, Beneath the beech trees shade, The poorer women washed their clothes Without a thought of fear; Though echoes rattling through the drain Announced the beast was near. They felt no fear, for demons shun The honest light of day, But as the night came stealing on They were afraid to stay, Although the beast was never known To take a single life, Was never even known to touch A child or maid or wife. He seldom either sought his prey Before the midnight hour, And then the haunts of vice and mirth Around about he’d scour. Ah, woe betide! the jovial youth Or greybeard steeped in shame, Whose shuffling walk and glassy eye Proclaim from whence he came. The demon beast with gliding gait Would follow on his track, With sudden spring would seize his prey And hang upon his back. The more the victim fought and reeled, The heavier hung the beast, The more the victim cursed or prayed, The closer clung the beast. The wretched man now sought his home Beneath this awful load, With beads of sweat upon his brow He oft mistook the road. At last, at last he reached his goal, Worn out by pain and fear, And as he passed within his home— The beast would disappear. With rattling and with clanking chains The demon gambolled off, Avoiding church and crucifix, To seek the sulphur trough; But if another maudlin man There chanced upon his way, Most gladly would he turn aside To grapple yet more prey. Then moans and groans began afresh, As this new victim found He too must turn from wrong to right, By sad repentance bound! |
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