To the mountebank-meeting came also the devil;—
Thought <g>he'd</g> try his luck with the rest of them.
His talent was this: in a manner convincing,
He was able to grunt like a flesh-and-blood pig.
He was not recognised, yet his manners[1] attracted.
The house was well filled; expectation ran high.
He stepped forth in a cloak with an ample cape to it;
Man mus sich drappiren, as the Germans say. But under the mantle—what none suspected— He'd managed to smuggle a real live pig. And now he opened the representation; The devil he pinched, and the pig gave voice. The whole thing purported to be a fantasia On the porcine existence, both free and in bonds; And all ended up with a slaughter-house squeal— Whereupon the performer bowed low and retired.— The critics discussed and appraised the affair; The tone of the whole was attacked and defended. Some fancied the vocal expression too thin, While some thought the death-shriek too carefully studied; But all were agreed as to one thing: qua grunt, The performance was grossly exaggerated.— Now <g>that</g>, you see, came of the devil's stupidity In not taking the measure of his public first.
[He bows and goes off. A puzzled silence comes over the crowd.
- ↑ In the original, "Personlighed"—personality.
