A cornered lion opens its mouth and answers in rhyme. In Grimm's Household Tales (collected 1812–1857 by the German philologists Jacob (1785–1863) and Wilhelm (1786–1859) Grimm), a huntsman levels his gun at the beast, "but the lion also said" the same plea the wolf and bear had made: "Dear huntsmen, do but let me live, / Two little ones I, too, will give." It buys its life with its cubs, and thereafter it "followed them and served them".

The tale's finest proof of speech comes at a king's table. Sent to fetch wine "such as is drunk by the King", the lion strides through streets emptied by fear, knocks at the royal chamber "with his tail", and tells the king's daughter plainly what his master wants. Down in the cellar he refuses the servants' vintage — "Stop, I will taste the wine first", he says, and after a second barrel, "That is better, but still not right". When the cup-bearer sneers that no "stupid animal like you" could judge a vintage, the lion answers with a blow behind the ears, and is led at last to the king's own reserve, which he pronounces "the right sort".

Of the three household tales filed here — Grimm 60, 67, and 88 — only the first is wired to served text; the other two, and the further authorities filed alongside them, wait unread. A lion that can taste a king's wine and name it — what still parts the beast from the court it has walked into?