Passage

One used to hear, in times gone by

—it often happened, actually —

men became werewolves, many men,

and in the forest made their den.

A werewolf is a savage beast;

in his blood-rage, he makes a feast

of men, devours them, does great harms, 

and in vast forests lives and roams.

Well, for now, let us leave all that;

I want to speak of Bisclavret.

In Brittany there lived a lord

—wondrous, the praise of him I’ve heard—

a good knight, handsome, known to be

all that makes for nobility.

Prized, he was, much, by his liege lord;

by all his neighbours was adored.

 Bisclavret, lines 4-19