Towards the rear of the pageant rode one that excited more attention still--the Duke's leopard.
A huntsman, mounted on a Flemish horse of giant prodigious size and power, carried a long box fastened to the rider's loins by straps curiously contrived, and on this box sat a bright leopard crouching.
She was chained to the huntsman.

The people admired her glossy hide and spots, and pressed near, and one or two were for feeling her, and pulling her tail; then the huntsman shouted in a terrible voice, "Beware! At Antwerp one did but throw a handful of dust at her, and the Duke made dust of him." "Gramercy!" "I speak sooth.

The good Duke shut him up in prison, in a cell under ground, and the rats cleaned the flesh off his bones in a night.

Served him right for molesting the poor thing." There was a murmur of fear, and the Tergovians shrank from tickling the leopard of their sovereign.
But an incident followed that raised their spirits again.

The Duke's giant, a Hungarian seven feet four inches high, brought up the rear.
This enormous creature had, like some other giants, a treble, fluty voice of little power.