Excerpt
At rise, is seen the entrance to a tent, out of which steps an animal-tamer, with long, black curls, dressed in a white cravat, a vermilion dress-coat, white trowsers and white top-boots. He carries in his left hand a dog-whip and in his right a loaded revolver, and enters to the sound of cymbals and kettle-drums.)
Walk in! Walk in to the menagery,Proud gentlemen and ladies lively and merry!With avid lust or cold disgust, the veryBeast without Soul bound and made secondaryTo human genius, to stay and see!Walk in, the show'll begin!—As customary,One child to each two persons comes in free.
Here battle man and brute in narrow cagesWhere one in haught disdain his long whip lashesAnd one, with growls as when the thunder rages,Against the man's throat murderously dashes,—Where now the crafty conquers, now the strong,Now man, now beast, lies cowed the floor along;The animal rears,—the human on all fours!One ice-cold look of dominance—The beast submissive bows before that glance,And the proud heel upon his neck adores.
Bad are the times! Ladies and gentlemenWho once before my cage in thronging crescentsCrowded, now honor operas, and thenIbsen, with their so highly valued presence.My boarders here are so in want of fodderThat they reciprocally devour each other.How well off at the theater is a player,Sure of the meat upon his ribs, albeitHis frightful hunger may tear him and he itAnd colleagues' inner cupboards be quite bare!—Greatness in art we struggle to inherit,Although the salary never match the merit.
What see you, whether in light or sombre plays?House-animals, whose morals all must praise,Who wreak pale spites in vegetarian ways,And revel in an easy cry or fret,Just like those others—down in the parquet.This hero has a head by one dram swirled;That is in doubt whether his love be right;A third you hear despairing of the world,—Full five acts long you hear him wail his plight,And no man ends him with a merciful sleight!But the real beast, the beautiful, wild beast,Your eyes on that, I, ladies, only feast!
You see the Tiger, that habituallyDevours whatever falls before his bound;The Bear, so ravenous originally,Who at a late night-meal sinks dead to ground;You see the Monkey, little and amusing,From sheer ennui his petty powers abusing,—He has some talent, of all greatness scant,So, impudently, coquettes with his own want!Upon my soul, within my tent's a mammal,See, right behind the curtain, here,—a Camel!And all my creatures fawn about my feetWhen my revolver cracks—
(He shoots into the audience.)
Behold!Brutes tremble all around me. I am cold:The man stays cold,—you, with respect, to greet.
Walk in!—You hardly trust yourselves in here?—Then very well, judge for yourselves! Each sphereHas sent its crawling creatures to your telling:Chameleons and serpents, crocodiles,Dragons, and salamanders chasm-dwelling,—I know, of course, you're full of quiet smilesAnd don't believe a syllable I say.—
(He lifts the entrance-flap and calls into the tent.)
Hi, Charlie!—bring our Serpent just this way!
(A stage-hand with a big paunch carries out the actress of Lulu in her Pierrot costume, and sets her down before the animal-tamer.)
She was created to incite to sin,To lure, seduce, poison—yea, murder, inA manner no man knows.—My pretty beast,
(Tickling Lulu's chin.)
Only be unaffected, and not piecedOut with distorted, artificial folly,Even if the critics praise thee for 't less wholly....