Ma Belle Dame sans Merci

by Ellen Pepper 

 

Tale of a Woman who felt Scorned

Gaze no more upon her formidable aspect.
She was a dreadful fiend with fearsome eyes.
She had power to enchant,
and to heal,
and to turn some to stone.
She lived in the distant west at night's border.

Percy was a charismatic man of elegant mien.
Did he set out to slay her tender heart? Of course not.
Fault him not, he bears no accountability.
He is an innocent man.

Our Belle Dame, Belle to friends,
saw him first on a Spring morning.
He was sat at a writing desk near a window
gazing out at the sea.
A quill in hand, he wrote of events of the time,
his opinions thereof,
and his plans to change the world.

They spoke. They laughed.
They found comfort with each other.
Belle saw him as the Ideal Man,
a paragon of masculinity.
With his words, he touched her heart.

Percy saw her as light and entertaining,
without being a distraction from his labour of love.
He had not an inkling of what lurked in the depths of her soul,
The darkness there, awaiting its awakening.
He was naive. Trusting. 

On the night that Belle professed her abiding love for him,
Percy drew away in distress.
He had no desire to wound her with the truth,
but he knew it was only right to say it.
His heart belonged to another - his dedication to his work.
No human could deflect him from his sacred task.

Poor Belle. At first, her heart felt battered and bruised.
After a while, the rage grew.
Rage against Fate, rage against Life and eventually rage against Percy who had sent her away with no further word.
And then, her Dark Side arose.

She vowed vengeance. Retribution.
She composed songs of rage and sorrow.
She wrote scathing missives and sent them via hellhounds.
Passing him at the agora, she uttered words of barbed impact,
delivered by tongue daggers.

Let it suffice to say that Percy no longer felt affection for her.
He felt dismay at first which then became disgust, despair, and finally contempt.
He abandoned his home and settled in a land far away.
He was more careful with women in later days.

Belle went on to marry a Professor of Humours in Athens.
He patiently tamed her violent ways with an ease
that belied his initial trepidation of her fiendish phase.
Her infernal rage dissipated and she was at peace.
When she died, a butterfly rose from her grave.

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025
image credit:  https://luisafumi-digitalart.com/product/medusa-the-gorgon/