The first time I met a lion in the flesh was on a playground in suburban Nashville. I must have been only five or six years old when the enormous golden cougar peered out from its perch on the edge of the little park, its lithe, muscular body stretching out behind its curious face. Next to it was another feline comrade, an exotic, ebony-black wildcat, lying gracefully alongside the more familiar mountain lion. As would

Milton’s Satan famously quipped that “The mind is its own place, and in itself / Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n.” (b.1 l.254-255)1 The hubris required to make this statement is emphasized when Satan rejoices in his removal from God: “since he / Who now is sov’reign can dispose and bid / What shall be right: farthest from him is best / Whom reason hath equaled, force hath made supreme /