The humour of Germany

by Unknown

POET.

And what then is to become of my excellent drama?

AUDIENCE.

Scaramuccio shall play the Apollo. It is a unanimous decision.

POET.

’Tis well. I wash my hands of it. The audience may bear the responsibility. I am deeply miserable. Ah, yes, it is the fate of Art to be misunderstood and travestied, and it is only then that it finds its public. In vengeance for the judgment passed upon Marsyas, Poetry herself is flayed alive to-day. My sorrow is greater than I can endure. Herr Grünhelm, so you undertake to do the joking?

GRÜNHELM.

I do, Sir Poet, and I will hold my own against any rival.

POET.

How will you do it?