little rescued kittens, looking plaintively at Miranda. And "Hiss!" they said to the people, some looking really wicked and some quite comical.
Miranda looked first at the cats and then at her family. Otherwise, she did not move. Her eyes were sad and melancholy, for she knew what decision she had to make, had already made. Punka remained beside her; she always did what her mother did. Miranda looked up into Claudia's face, silently conveying the news to her that here she must stay, that she could not abandon the kittens she had rescued, that she could not return home, that home now for her and her rescued kittens was the Colosseum.
"Mew, mew, mew," said all the little kittens who had understood the silent speech. "Mew, mew, mew!" they cried as loudly as they could, and this meant, "Long live Miranda the Great!"
Other big cats said, "She shall be our queen. Queen Miranda of the Colosseum." Even old broke-tail lizard came out from somewhere and salaamed before Miranda—he was trying already to curry favor—and slunk back sidewise into the shadows.
"Oh, she'll come soon, I know she will," Claudia said. "Let's wait. You know how she always likes us to wait for her? Take her time?" So she and her whole family, including Zag who was growing stronger by the minute now that Marcus had come, waited.
10. Miranda the Great, Queen of the Colosseum
Nighttime came. Still, Claudia and her mother and father waited. They didn't want to go home without their two big and wonderful cats. They felt compelled to stay a little longer and a little longer. They had a feeling that something was going to happen.
When the moon came out, full and shining over the far wall of the arena, Miranda stood up, stretched, and said, "Wirra-wirra!" Then, with Punka following slightly behind, like a lady in waiting, she led the cats and the kittens, smallest ones first, in straight formation around the huge arena.
Next, Miranda mounted the dais, leaped gracefully onto the throne of emperors, and with Punka standing at her side, somewhat below on a sort of a stool, she surveyed her followers. They took their places, sopranos on one side, altos and contraltos in their rightful locations. The kittens' choir was in front. The kittens wanted to practice and uttered a few faint mews, but Miranda raised a paw, and they stopped. Total silence fell over the arena. The lizard cat stood far off in the background, high on a column silhouetted against the moon.
Miranda stood up, paused a moment, and then began to sing.
A solo.
The song that Miranda sang began with a gentle theme that told of her life of ease and plenty in the pleasant garden of Claudia, a
cara puella,
seen now over there in the background. Not a cat or kitten turned to look. Suddenly Miranda let out a high note filled with foreboding and went into the awful day of the fire and the sacking of Rome, of her (and Punka's) rescuing thirty-three lost little kittens, of coming at last here to the Colosseum, of driving out the lion, of the drops of lion's milk she had bargained for with the lion, of the arrival of her four new little kittens.
She sang of these little kittens and said they might not be as strong as the original thirty-three, having been born too late for the lion's milk, but that nevertheless they were true princes and princesses and heirs to the throne on the dais, her throne, to be occupied now and forevermore by her or her offspring, though occupied in former years by proud emperors, by Vespasian and by Titus, master builders of the Colosseum.
"
Viva! Viva!
" sang the chorus. "Long live the Queen!"
While Miranda paused for breath, she encouraged other cats to enter into the chorus, even to add a short solo of their own at the right moment and in the right key, to sing of what had transpired to them on and since the fateful day of the fire.
These cats sang in all keys of the scale and in keys that are not on the scale, such as the key of Z, in honor of Zag. Even broke-tail cat from
Miranda looked first at the cats and then at her family. Otherwise, she did not move. Her eyes were sad and melancholy, for she knew what decision she had to make, had already made. Punka remained beside her; she always did what her mother did. Miranda looked up into Claudia's face, silently conveying the news to her that here she must stay, that she could not abandon the kittens she had rescued, that she could not return home, that home now for her and her rescued kittens was the Colosseum.
"Mew, mew, mew," said all the little kittens who had understood the silent speech. "Mew, mew, mew!" they cried as loudly as they could, and this meant, "Long live Miranda the Great!"
Other big cats said, "She shall be our queen. Queen Miranda of the Colosseum." Even old broke-tail lizard came out from somewhere and salaamed before Miranda—he was trying already to curry favor—and slunk back sidewise into the shadows.
"Oh, she'll come soon, I know she will," Claudia said. "Let's wait. You know how she always likes us to wait for her? Take her time?" So she and her whole family, including Zag who was growing stronger by the minute now that Marcus had come, waited.
10. Miranda the Great, Queen of the Colosseum
Nighttime came. Still, Claudia and her mother and father waited. They didn't want to go home without their two big and wonderful cats. They felt compelled to stay a little longer and a little longer. They had a feeling that something was going to happen.
When the moon came out, full and shining over the far wall of the arena, Miranda stood up, stretched, and said, "Wirra-wirra!" Then, with Punka following slightly behind, like a lady in waiting, she led the cats and the kittens, smallest ones first, in straight formation around the huge arena.
Next, Miranda mounted the dais, leaped gracefully onto the throne of emperors, and with Punka standing at her side, somewhat below on a sort of a stool, she surveyed her followers. They took their places, sopranos on one side, altos and contraltos in their rightful locations. The kittens' choir was in front. The kittens wanted to practice and uttered a few faint mews, but Miranda raised a paw, and they stopped. Total silence fell over the arena. The lizard cat stood far off in the background, high on a column silhouetted against the moon.
Miranda stood up, paused a moment, and then began to sing.
A solo.
The song that Miranda sang began with a gentle theme that told of her life of ease and plenty in the pleasant garden of Claudia, a
cara puella,
seen now over there in the background. Not a cat or kitten turned to look. Suddenly Miranda let out a high note filled with foreboding and went into the awful day of the fire and the sacking of Rome, of her (and Punka's) rescuing thirty-three lost little kittens, of coming at last here to the Colosseum, of driving out the lion, of the drops of lion's milk she had bargained for with the lion, of the arrival of her four new little kittens.
She sang of these little kittens and said they might not be as strong as the original thirty-three, having been born too late for the lion's milk, but that nevertheless they were true princes and princesses and heirs to the throne on the dais, her throne, to be occupied now and forevermore by her or her offspring, though occupied in former years by proud emperors, by Vespasian and by Titus, master builders of the Colosseum.
"
Viva! Viva!
" sang the chorus. "Long live the Queen!"
While Miranda paused for breath, she encouraged other cats to enter into the chorus, even to add a short solo of their own at the right moment and in the right key, to sing of what had transpired to them on and since the fateful day of the fire.
These cats sang in all keys of the scale and in keys that are not on the scale, such as the key of Z, in honor of Zag. Even broke-tail cat from
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