A young King and a beautiful young Queen were supposed to be travelling happily in the country. All at once sounds of the hunt are heard; I appear—chased by horsemen; the young King and Queen try in terror to hide themselves; I pretend to be enraged, and run furiously two or three times round the Circus. Then I see the Queen, and rush towards her. Then, in the Scene as originally composed by Moukounj—(for my master had become an author, in order to increase the brilliancy of my theatrical career), the King should strive to protect the Queen with his person, draw his sword, and bury it in my breast, and I should fall, apparently dead. The sword, of course, had a blade of tin, which slipped up inside the handle. But this finale was changed by me after the first evening.
It was Miss Nightingale who played the young Queen. She was most lovely in this part, with a robe of delicate white gauze under which glistened a tunic of mauve silk. And when I saw her, looking so beautiful, the memory of Parvati, which never left me, came over me more vividly and tenderly than ever before; so that, instead of rushing violently upon her, I stopped; and then came forward slowly, and humbly and submissively—knelt at her feet! The audience applauded tremendously, and it was decided to retain this denouement for the Scene hereafter.
After this, I made the circle of the Ring five times on a Bicycle, an enormous Bicycle built for my stature. (You can imagine with what difficulty an elephant could balance himself on such a machine!) I worked the pedals with my forefeet and steered with my trunk.
Next, I had to stand up and dance a Polka; and, finally, I had to play another Dramatic Scene—a Comedy, composed by Mr. Oldham.
They brought into the middle of the Circus a Table and a Chair of the proper size for me. Then a couple of uprights, between which hung a bell, with a cord attached.
I entered, sat down in the chair, and with my trunk pulled the bell-cord. Instantly, Mr. Oldham, dressed like a Waiter, ran in. I made him understand that I wished my dinner.
"Yes, Mr. Elephant—it will be ready immediately!"
He went out. Then I drew from a bag fastened around my waist a pair of enormous spectacles, and put them on. Then I took a news-paper and pretended to read—(though at that time I did not really know how to read!) After a while, as Mr. Oldham did not return, I pretended to grow impatient, and rang again, and Mr. Oldham ran in:
"Yes, Mr. Elephant.... Your dinner will be ready in a few minutes!"
Twice more I rang, and twice Mr. Oldham ran in and repeated the same thing, "Yes, Mr. Elephant, your dinner will be ready in a few minutes"—without bringing me anything. The third time he brought me merely one dish, which contained nothing but a few rolls, and I swallowed them in one mouthful.