Learn English with Josh Podcast - Episode 7: The Lady or the Tiger?

Discover the POWER of reading in this episode! When my students ask me how they can improve their English quickly, I always tell them to read! Read as much as possible, but not just any book or any article in any newspaper. No, read Graded Readers - specially edited books designed to help English students learn English.

In this episode I read three versions of the same book called “The Lady, or the Tiger?” written by American author Frank R. Stockton. I read the first paragraphs from the original work, in the original English.Then I read the same portions from an elementary-level graded reader, then finally, a third, intermediate-level graded reader. You will see the clear differences between the various levels, and just how you can improve your English vocabulary by reading!

And which do you think the princess chose? The lady or the tiger? 

Enjoy!


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Below are the three versions of “The Lady or the Tiger?”, in this order: Original, Elementary, Intermediate. You can follow along with the video above.

ORIGINAL ENGLISH

The Lady Or The Tiger?

By Frank Stockton

         In the very olden time there lived a semi-barbaric king, whose ideas, though somewhat polished and sharpened by the progressiveness of distant Latin neighbors, were still large, florid, and untrammeled, as became the half of him which was barbaric. He was a man of exuberant fancy, and, withal, of an authority so irresistible that, at his will, he turned his varied fancies into facts. He was greatly given to self-communing, and, when he and himself agreed upon anything, the thing was done. When every member of his domestic and political systems moved smoothly in its appointed course, his nature was bland and genial; but, whenever there was a little hitch, and some of his orbs got out of their orbits, he was blander and more genial still, for nothing pleased him so much as to make the crooked straight and crush down uneven places.     

       Among the borrowed notions by which his barbarism had become semified was that of the public arena, in which, by exhibitions of manly and beastly valor, the minds of his subjects were refined and cultured. But even here the exuberant and barbaric fancy asserted itself. The arena of the king was built, not to give the people an opportunity of hearing the rhapsodies of dying gladiators, nor to enable them to view the inevitable conclusion of a conflict between religious opinions and hungry jaws, but for purposes far better adapted to widen and develop the mental energies of the people. The vast amphitheater, with its encircling galleries, its mysterious vaults, and its unseen passages, was an agent of poetic justice, in which crime was punished, or virtue rewarded, by the decrees of an impartial and incorruptible chance. 

       When a subject was accused of a crime of sufficient importance to interest the king, public notice was given that on an appointed day the fate of the accused person would be decided in the king's arena, a structure which well deserved its name, for, although its form and plan were borrowed from afar, its purpose emanated solely from the brain of this man, who, every barleycorn a king, knew no tradition to which he owed more allegiance than pleased his fancy, and who ingrafted on every adopted form of human thought and action the rich growth of his barbaric idealism.     

       When all the people had assembled in the galleries, and the king, surrounded by his court, sat high up on his throne of royal state on one side of the arena, he gave a signal, a door beneath him opened, and the accused subject stepped out into the amphitheater. Directly opposite him, on the other side of the enclosed space, were two doors, exactly alike and side by side. It was the duty and the privilege of the person on trial to walk directly to these doors and open one of them. He could open either door he pleased; he was subject to no guidance or influence but that of the aforementioned impartial and incorruptible chance. If he opened the one, there came out of it a hungry tiger, the fiercest and most cruel that could be procured, which immediately sprang upon him and tore him to pieces as a punishment for his guilt. The moment that the case of the criminal was thus decided, doleful iron bells were clanged, great wails went up from the hired mourners posted on the outer rim of the arena, and the vast audience, with bowed heads and downcast hearts, wended slowly their homeward way, mourning greatly that one so young and fair, or so old and respected, should have merited so dire a fate.     

       But, if the accused person opened the other door, there came forth from it a lady, the most suitable to his years and station that his majesty could select among his fair subjects, and to this lady he was immediately married, as a reward of his innocence. It mattered not that he might already possess a wife and family, or that his affections might be engaged upon an object of his own selection; the king allowed no such subordinate arrangements to interfere with his great scheme of retribution and reward. The exercises, as in the other instance, took place immediately, and in the arena. Another door opened beneath the king, and a priest, followed by a band of choristers, and dancing maidens blowing joyous airs on golden horns and treading an epithalamic measure, advanced to where the pair stood, side by side, and the wedding was promptly and cheerily solemnized. Then the gay brass bells rang forth their merry peals, the people shouted glad hurrahs, and the innocent man, preceded by children strewing flowers on his path, led his bride to his home.     

       This was the king's semi-barbaric method of administering justice. Its perfect fairness is obvious. The criminal could not know out of which door would come the lady; he opened either he pleased, without having the slightest idea whether, in the next instant, he was to be devoured or married. On some occasions the tiger came out of one door, and on some out of the other. The decisions of this tribunal were not only fair, they were positively determinate: the accused person was instantly punished if he found himself guilty, and, if innocent, he was rewarded on the spot, whether he liked it or not. There was no escape from the judgments of the king's arena.     

       The institution was a very popular one. When the people gathered together on one of the great trial days, they never knew whether they were to witness a bloody slaughter or a hilarious wedding. This element of uncertainty lent an interest to the occasion which it could not otherwise have attained. Thus, the masses were entertained and pleased, and the thinking part of the community could bring no charge of unfairness against this plan, for did not the accused person have the whole matter in his own hands?        This semi-barbaric king had a daughter as blooming as his most florid fancies, and with a soul as fervent and imperious as his own. As is usual in such cases, she was the apple of his eye, and was loved by him above all humanity. Among his courtiers was a young man of that fineness of blood and lowness of station common to the conventional heroes of romance who love royal maidens. This royal maiden was well satisfied with her lover, for he was handsome and brave to a degree unsurpassed in all this kingdom, and she loved him with an ardor that had enough of barbarism in it to make it exceedingly warm and strong. This love affair moved on happily for many months, until one day the king happened to discover its existence. He did not hesitate nor waver in regard to his duty in the premises. The youth was immediately cast into prison, and a day was appointed for his trial in the king's arena. This, of course, was an especially important occasion, and his majesty, as well as all the people, was greatly interested in the workings and development of this trial. Never before had such a case occurred; never before had a subject dared to love the daughter of the king. In after years such things became commonplace enough, but then they were in no slight degree novel and startling.     

       The tiger-cages of the kingdom were searched for the most savage and relentless beasts, from which the fiercest monster might be selected for the arena; and the ranks of maiden youth and beauty throughout the land were carefully surveyed by competent judges in order that the young man might have a fitting bride in case fate did not determine for him a different destiny. Of course, everybody knew that the deed with which the accused was charged had been done. He had loved the princess, and neither he, she, nor anyone else, thought of denying the fact; but the king would not think of allowing any fact of this kind to interfere with the workings of the tribunal, in which he took such great delight and satisfaction. No matter how the affair turned out, the youth would be disposed of, and the king would take an aesthetic pleasure in watching the course of events, which would determine whether or not the young man had done wrong in allowing himself to love the princess.

       The appointed day arrived. From far and near the people gathered, and thronged the great galleries of the arena, and crowds, unable to gain admittance, massed themselves against its outside walls. The king and his court were in their places, opposite the twin doors, those fateful portals, so terrible in their similarity.

       All was ready. The signal was given. A door beneath the royal party opened, and the lover of the princess walked into the arena. Tall, beautiful, fair, his appearance was greeted with a low hum of admiration and anxiety. Half the audience had not known so grand a youth had lived among them. No wonder the princess loved him! What a terrible thing for him to be there! 

As the youth advanced into the arena he turned, as the custom was, to bow to the king, but he did not think at all of that royal personage. His eyes were fixed upon the princess, who sat to the right of her father. Had it not been for the moiety of barbarism in her nature it is probable that lady would not have been there, but her intense and fervid soul would not allow her to be absent on an occasion in which she was so terribly interested. From the moment that the decree had gone forth that her lover should decide his fate in the king's arena, she had thought of nothing, night or day, but this great event and the various subjects connected with it. Possessed of more power, influence, and force of character than any one who had ever before been interested in such a case, she had done what no other person had done - she had possessed herself of the secret of the doors. She knew in which of the two rooms, that lay behind those doors, stood the cage of the tiger, with its open front, and in which waited the lady. Through these thick doors, heavily curtained with skins on the inside, it was impossible that any noise or suggestion should come from within to the person who should approach to raise the latch of one of them. But gold, and the power of a woman's will, had brought the secret to the princess.

       And not only did she know in which room stood the lady ready to emerge, all blushing and radiant, should her door be opened, but she knew who the lady was. It was one of the fairest and loveliest of the damsels of the court who had been selected as the reward of the accused youth, should he be proved innocent of the crime of aspiring to one so far above him; and the princess hated her. Often had she seen, or imagined that she had seen, this fair creature throwing glances of admiration upon the person of her lover, and sometimes she thought these glances were perceived, and even returned. Now and then she had seen them talking together; it was but for a moment or two, but much can be said in a brief space; it may have been on most unimportant topics, but how could she know that? The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raise her eyes to the loved one of the princess; and, with all the intensity of the savage blood transmitted to her through long lines of wholly barbaric ancestors, she hated the woman who blushed and trembled behind that silent door. 

       When her lover turned and looked at her, and his eye met hers as she sat there, paler and whiter than any one in the vast ocean of anxious faces about her, he saw, by that power of quick perception which is given to those whose souls are one, that she knew behind which door crouched the tiger, and behind which stood the lady. He had expected her to know it. He understood her nature, and his soul was assured that she would never rest until she had made plain to herself this thing, hidden to all other lookers-on, even to the king. The only hope for the youth in which there was any element of certainty was based upon the success of the princess in discovering this mystery; and the moment he looked upon her, he saw she had succeeded, as in his soul he knew she would succeed.     

       Then it was that his quick and anxious glance asked the question: "Which?" It was as plain to her as if he shouted it from where he stood. There was not an instant to be lost. The question was asked in a flash; it must be answered in another.     

       Her right arm lay on the cushioned parapet before her. She raised her hand, and made a slight, quick movement toward the right. No one but her lover saw her. Every eye but his was fixed on the man in the arena.     

       He turned, and with a firm and rapid step he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the right, and opened it.     

       Now, the point of the story is this: Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the lady ?     

       The more we reflect upon this question, the harder it is to answer. It involves a study of the human heart which leads us through devious mazes of passion, out of which it is difficult to find our way. Think of it, fair reader, not as if the decision of the question depended upon yourself, but upon that hot-blooded, semi-barbaric princess, her soul at a white heat beneath the combined fires of despair and jealousy. She had lost him, but who should have him?     

       How often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started in wild horror, and covered her face with her hands as she thought of her lover opening the door on the other side of which waited the cruel fangs of the tiger!     

       But how much oftener had she seen him at the other door! How in her grievous reveries had she gnashed her teeth, and torn her hair, when she saw his start of rapturous delight as he opened the door of the lady! How her soul had burned in agony when she had seen him rush to meet that woman, with her flushing cheek and sparkling eye of triumph; when she had seen him lead her forth, his whole frame kindled with the joy of recovered life; when she had heard the glad shouts from the multitude, and the wild ringing of the happy bells; when she had seen the priest, with his joyous followers, advance to the couple, and make them man and wife before her very eyes; and when she had seen them walk away together upon their path of flowers, followed by the tremendous shouts of the hilarious multitude, in which her one despairing shriek was lost and drowned!     

       Would it not be better for him to die at once, and go to wait for her in the blessed regions of semi-barbaric futurity?     

       And yet, that awful tiger, those shrieks, that blood!     

       Her decision had been indicated in an instant, but it had been made after days and nights of anguished deliberation. She had known she would be asked, she had decided what she would answer, and, without the slightest hesitation, she had moved her hand to the right.     

The question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered, and it is not for me to presume to set myself up as the one person able to answer it. And so I leave it with all of you: Which came out of the opened door - the lady, or the tiger?


GRADED READER - ELEMENTARY 

The Lady or the Tiger?

       Many, many years ago there was a king in a far country. He was famous, he was strong and he was very clever. But in his country he had many wrongdoers. The King was unhappy about this but how can you stop people from doing wrong? It is not easy. He thought about this difficult question for a long time but he could not find the answer.

       Suddenly, one day, he had a good idea. He spoke to his people and told them to build a big stadium in the centre of the city.

       'It must be very big and very beautiful,' he told them.

       So the people worked hard for many months.

       One day, the building was finished. The stadium was ready. Inside it, there were places for five thousand people. Everyone was very excited about this beautiful new building. Some wanted to watch games in the stadium. Others wanted to have dancing and singing. But what did the King want? No one knew.

       The day of the opening came. Everyone ran to the stadium to get a place inside. The people got more excited when the King arrived. They were all quiet, waiting. First, he took his place. Then, he stood up and spoke.

       'My people, my friends,' he said. 'Firstly I want to thank all the workers for their good work. We now have a beautiful stadium and it is very well built. Secondly, I know that many of you want to see games and dancing here. But this stadium is going to be different. It is not going to be a place for having a good time. It is going to be a place for wrongdoers. If one of you does something wrong, we are going to bring him to this place. There he must stand in the middle of this stadium in front of us all.

       'Now, do you all see those two doors, coloured blue, at the far end of the stadium? They look the same, perhaps. But they are not. Behind one door, I am going to put a dangerous animal, a tiger. Behind the other door, there is going to be a beautiful lady. The wrongdoer must choose one of these doors. If he opens the wrong door, he finds the tiger. It jumps out and kills him. If he opens the other door, he finds the beautiful young woman. She is to be his wife. They must marry immediately, right here in the stadium before our eyes. After that, they can live happily with us as husband and wife. So each wrongdoer must choose very carefully. Before he chooses, he - and we - cannot know if he is going to live or die. As soon as he opens one of those two doors, we all know immediately. That is my idea. So tell me, my friends, is it a good idea or is it not?'

       'It is good, O King, it is very good,' the people answered. But they were quiet. They were afraid.

       'Thank you,' said the King. 'Now go home. Come to the stadium again at the same time next week. Then you can watch the first wrongdoer make his choice. Every week from now on, a different man is going to choose: to live, if he is lucky, or to die, if he is not.'

       From that day, the people came every week to the stadium to watch a different wrongdoer. Sometimes, he opened the right blue door and the beautiful lady came out. Then there was singing and dancing. Everyone threw flowers down to the lucky people and went home happily. But at other times, the wrongdoer opened the wrong door. Immediately, a big tiger ran out into the stadium and jumped on the unlucky man. In a few minutes, the tiger killed him in front of all the watching people. When he lay dead in the centre of the stadium, the people went home sadly. They took their flowers with them. It is interesting that in a short time the number of wrongdoers in the country got much smaller. No one wanted to stand in the middle of the stadium and make that difficult choice.

       Now, there is another important person in this story. The King had only one child, a daughter. She was very beautiful. She had green eyes and long red hair and she moved as quickly as a cat. She too was strong and clever - as strong and clever as her father. She did not smile often. But when she smiled, people were happy. When she was angry, everyone was afraid. They knew that at those times she was a very dangerous young woman. Her picture was in every home. Men, women and children followed her when she went walking in the streets of the city. They waited to see her famous smile and sometimes they were lucky.

       One day, she was out walking in a city park when she saw a young man. He was a gardener and the park was where he worked. He was very good-looking. He was tall and strong. He had dark blue-black hair and a dark moustache. When he laughed, you could see his beautiful white teeth. The King's daughter stopped and looked at him closely. She thought that he was the most beautiful man in the world. She began to talk with him and liked him more and more. The young man could not understand. Why did the King's daughter want to talk to him? He was not important. He was only the King's gardener. But he could not take his eyes off her. As soon as he looked into her big green eyes and saw her smile, he was in love. But he knew that this love was very dangerous. He was not a rich man, not from a rich family. He could never marry the daughter of the King.

       But the two young lovers knew that they must meet again. They started to meet every day, at times when no one could see them. Every day, their love was stronger and stronger. They were very happy. Then one day the King found them together, there in the city gardens. His daughter was in the young man's arms. The King was very, very angry. He called his men. Immediately, they took the young man away and shut him in a dark, dirty room. They gave him only bread and water to eat. Now the King's daughter could not see her lover any more. The young man lay in the dark. He knew that he was a wrongdoer and in much danger from the King. Now, we know that the King's daughter was a strong young woman and that she was very clever. When her father's men took her lover away, she too saw the danger immediately. She knew very well what was going to happen next. So, early in the morning, she went to the stadium. No one saw her go. She spoke to the workers there and gave them some money.

       'Which room is the tiger in?' she asked.

       They told her.

       'And which girl is going to be behind the other door?'

       The workers did not want to answer. They were afraid.

       'I must know,' said the King's daughter. 'Who is she?'

       'She is the daughter of your father's driver', the workers answered.

       The King's daughter knew her well: a young and beautiful girl with rich brown hair. But the King's daughter did not like her. She began to think hard. 'If my lover chooses the wrong door, he dies. But if he chooses the right door, he marries this cheap little thing, this driver's child. And I lose him - to her! So I too must choose..."

       That afternoon, the King called all his people back to the stadium again. His men brought the young man from the dark room. There he stood, in the middle of the stadium, tired, hungry and afraid. The King sat in his place above the people and his daughter sat next to him. She did not move. Her face showed nothing.

       Then the King stood and spoke to his people. 'You all know this gardener, my friends. And you know why he is here. He was the lover of my daughter. For many weeks, I did not know that, but I know it now. What happens to a wrongdoer in our country? That too we know. He must choose: the lady or the tiger. If he opens the wrong door, he must fight the tiger. If he opens the right door, he must marry the lady. So now choose, young man. Choose very carefully if you want to live and not die.'

       The young man stood quietly and listened to the King's words. But his eyes were not on the King. They were on the face of the King's daughter. She had no smile for him today. But he looked at her eyes. Her eyes told him something. She looked down quickly at her hand. Then she looked up again. He saw her smallest finger move a little to the left. And immediately he knew: the door to open was the door on the left! He turned and walked very slowly to the left-hand door. All the people watched him, without a sound. He put out his hand and opened the door...

       But here the story ends. Remember that the King's daughter was a clever young woman. She was in love but she was angry too. Did she want her lover to meet the tiger - a fight that he must lose? Did she want him to die? Or did she want him to live and have another beautiful woman for his wife? To give him this other woman, in place of her? We do not know what ideas were at work inside her beautiful head.

       Tell me, what do you think? Which did she choose? What was behind that door: the lady or the tiger?

- THE END -


GRADED READER - INTERMEDIATE 

The Lady or the Tiger?

Long, long ago there lived a semi-barbaric king, whose ideas were also at least semi-barbaric, in spite of contact with other, distant lands. He was a man with a wild imagination; but he also had the power to turn his imagination into reality. He was very independent, and once he made up his mind about something, that became law. When everybody around him did what he wanted, he was calm and pleasant; but whenever something went wrong, he became calmer and more pleasant, because nothing made him happier than fixing problems through his authority. 

One of the characteristics of his strong rule was the public arena, where through battles with wild animals and or gladiators, he was able to control his citizens. Even in this arena, his barbaric nature was evident. His arena had been built not to give the people the opportunity to applaud the bravery of contestants or to watch a battle between man and beast, but for the purpose of making his people think. This arena, you see, surrounded by hidden galleries, mysterious rooms, and unseen passages, served as a criminal justice court, where the guilty were punished and the innocent rewarded, as determined by impartial chance. 

       When somebody was accused of a crime important enough to interest the king, an announcement would be made that, on a scheduled day, the fate of the accused person would be decided in the king’s arena. And “the king’s arena” it was, because even though the physical structure was similar to those in other lands, its purpose was shaped only by the will and pleasure of this barbaric king.

       When all the people had assembled in the galleries, and the king, high up on his royal throne on one side of the arena, rounded by his court, gave a signal, a door beneath him opened, and the accused subject stepped out into the amphitheater. 

       Directly opposite the accused, on the other side of the enclosed space, were two doors, exactly alike and side-by-side. It was the duty and the privilege of the person on trial to walk directly to these doors and open one of them. He could open either door he pleased; he received no guidance or influence except from impartial and incorruptible chance. If he opened the one, there came out of it a hungry tiger, the fiercest and most cruel that could be found, which immediately sprang upon him and tore him to pieces as a punishment for his guilt. The moment the case of the criminal was decided like this, doleful iron bells rang, hired mourners standing around the arena began to cry, and the huge audience, with bowed heads and heavy hearts, walked slowly home, mourning greatly that one so young and fair, or so old and respected, had turned out to deserve so terrible a fate. 

But, if the accused person opened the other door, there came forth from it a lady, the most suitable to his age and position that the king could find. To this lady he was immediately married, as a reward of his innocence. It didn’t matter if he already had a wife and family, or if his heart was already given to a different person he had chosen himself; the king allowed no such previous arrangements to interfere with his great scheme of punishment or reward. The result, as in the other case, took place immediately, and in the arena. Another door opened beneath the king, and a priest, followed by a band of joyful musicians and dancing maidens, approached the pair, and quickly and happily performed the wedding ceremony. Then brass bells rang in celebration, the people shouted glad hurrahs, and the innocent man, preceded by children throwing flower petals along his path, led his bride to his home. 

       This was the king's semi-barbaric method of administering justice. Its perfect fairness is obvious. The criminal could not know out of which door would come the lady; he opened either one he pleased, without having the slightest idea whether, in the next instant, he was going to be devoured or married. On some occasions the tiger came out of one door, and on some, out of the other. The decisions of this tribunal were not only fair, they were definite: the accused person was instantly punished if he found himself guilty, and, if innocent, he was rewarded on the spot, whether he liked it or not. There was no escape from the judgments of the king's arena. 

       The institution was a very popular one. When the people gathered together on one of the great trial days, they never knew whether they were going to watch a bloody slaughter or a hilarious wedding. This element of uncertainty made the occasion especially interesting. Thus, the masses were entertained and pleased, and the thinking part of the community could not say the method was unfair, because didn’t the accused person have the whole matter in his own hands? Now, this semi-barbaric king had a daughter as blooming as his most beautiful flowers, and with a nature as fierce and confident as his own. As is usual in such cases, she was the apple of his eye, and was loved by him above everyone else. Among the king’s courtiers was a young man as noble and poor as the typical hero of a romance story in which a lowly born man loves a royal maiden. The royal maiden of this story was well satisfied with her lover, for he was handsome and braver than any- one else in all the kingdom, and she loved him with a passion that had enough barbarism to make it exceedingly strong. 

       This love affair moved on happily for many months, until one day the king happened to discover its existence. He did not hesitate nor waver in regard to his duty. The youth was immediately cast into prison, and a day was appointed for his trial in the king’s arena. This, of course, was an especially important occasion, and his majesty, as well as all the people, was greatly interested in the workings and development of this trial. Never before had such a case occurred; never before had a subject dared to love the daughter of the king. In years after, such things became common enough, but back then they were both new and startling. The tiger-cages of the kingdom were searched for the most age and relentless beasts, from which the fiercest monster would be selected for the arena; and the young maidens of the land were carefully judged for their beauty by competent judges so that the young man would have a suitable bride in case fate did not choose for him a different outcome. Of course, everybody knew that the young man was guilty of the crime. He had loved the princess, and neither he, she, nor any one else thought of denying it; but the king would not think of allowing any fact of this kind to interfere with the workings of the court, in which he took such great delight and satisfaction. No matter how the matter turned out, the youth would be dis- posed of, and the king would take pleasure in watching the course of events, which would deter- mine whether or not the young man had done wrong in allowing himself to love the princess. The appointed day arrived. From far and near, the people gathered and filled the great galleries of the arena. Crowds who were unable to fit inside pressed themselves against the outside walls. The king and his court were seated in their places, opposite the twin doors—those fateful openings, so terrible in their similarity. All was ready. The signal was given. A door beneath the royal family opened, and the lover of the princess walked into the arena. Tall and handsome, his appearance was greeted with a low hum of admiration and anxiety. Half the audience had not known so grand a youth lived among them. No wonder the princess loved him! What a terrible thing for him to be there! As the youth advanced into the arena, he turned, as the custom was, to bow to the king, but he did not think at all about that royal person. His eyes were fixed upon the princess, who sat to the right of her father. Had it not been for her own half-barbaric nature, she might not have been there, but her intense and passionate soul would not allow her to be absent on an occasion in which she was so terribly interested. From the moment the order had been given that her lover’s fate would be decided in the king's arena, she had thought about nothing, night or day, except this great event and the various matters connected with it. 

Since she had more power, influence, and strength of character than anyone who had ever before been interested in such a case, she had done what no other person had ever done—she had managed to discover the secret of the doors. She knew in which of the two rooms, behind those doors, stood the cage of the tiger, with its open front; and in which waited the lady. Through those thick doors, heavily curtained with animal skins on the inside, it was impossible for any noise or suggestion to come from within to the person who approached to raise the latch of one of them. 

But gold, and the power of a woman's will, had brought the secret to the princess. And not only did she know in which room stood the lady ready to emerge, blushing and radiant, should her door be opened, but she knew who the lady was. It was one of the fairest and loveliest of the ladies of the court who had been selected as the reward of the accused youth, should he be proved innocent of the crime; and the princess hated her. Often had she seen, or imagined that she had seen, this fair creature throwing glances of admiration upon her lover, and sometimes she thought these glances were noticed and even returned. 

Now and then she had seen them talking together—only for a moment or two, but much can be said in a short time; it may have been on the most unimportant of topics, but how could she know that? The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raise her eyes to the loved one of the princess; and, with all the intensity of the savage blood transmitted to her through long lines of her barbaric ancestors, she hated the woman who blushed and trembled behind that silent door. When her lover turned and looked at her, and his eye met hers as she sat there, paler and whiter than any other in the vast ocean of anxious faces about her, he saw, by that power of quick perception which is given to those whose souls are one, that she knew behind which door crouched the tiger and behind which stood the lady. He had expected her to know it. He understood her nature, and he had known that she would never rest until she had found out this thing, hidden to all others, even to the king. 

The only hope for the youth was based on the success of the princess in discovering this mystery; and the moment he looked at her, he saw that she had succeeded, as in his soul he had known she would succeed. At that moment his quick and anxious glance asked the question: “Which?” It was as plain to her as if he had shouted it from where he stood. There was not an instant to be lost. The question was asked in a flash; it must be answered in another. Her right arm lay on the cushioned balcony before her. 

She raised her hand and made a slight, quick movement toward the right. No one but her lover saw her. Every eye but his was fixed on the man in the arena. He turned, and with a firm and rapid step, he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed without moving upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the right, and opened it. Now, the point of the story is this: Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the lady? The more we reflect upon this question, the harder it is to answer. It involves a study of the human heart, which leads us through wandering mazes of passion, out of which it is difficult to find our way. 

Think of it, fair reader, not as if the decision of the question depended upon yourself, but upon that hot-blooded, semi-barbaric princess, her soul a white heat from the combined fires of despair and jealousy. She had lost him, but who should have him? How often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started in wild horror, and covered her face with her hands as she thought of her lover opening the door on the other side of which waited the cruel teeth of the tiger! 

But then how often had she seen him at the other door? How in her despairing mind’s eye had she ground her teeth and torn her hair when she saw his delight as he opened the door of the lady! How her soul had burned in agony when she had seen him rush to meet that woman, with her flushing cheek and sparkling eye of triumph; when she had seen him lead her forth, his whole frame alight with the joy of recovered life; when she had heard the glad shouts from the crowd, and the wild ringing of the happy bells; when she had seen the priest, with his joyous followers, advance to the couple and make them man and wife before her very eyes; and when she had seen them walk away together upon their path of flowers, followed by the tremendous shouts of the crowd, in which her one despairing shriek was lost and drowned! 

Would it not be better for him to die at once, and go to wait for her in the blessed regions of some semi-barbaric heaven? And yet—that awful tiger, those shrieks, that blood! Her decision had been indicated in an instant, but it had been made after days and nights of anguished deliberation. She had known she would be asked, she had decided what she would answer, and, without the slightest hesitation, she had moved her hand to the right. The question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered, and it is not for me to presume to set myself up as the one person able to answer it. 

And so I leave it with all of you: Which came out of the opened door—the lady, or the tiger? 

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Think Outside the Box: Episode 1

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Learn English with Josh Podcast - Episode 6: Talking about the past