"Poe, Edgar Allan - Four Beasts in One - The Homo Cameleopard" - читать интересную книгу автора (Poe Edgar Allan)

"Hark- behold!- who can those ridiculous beings be, half naked, with their
faces painted, shouting and gesticulating to the rabble?"
Some few are mountebanks. Others more particularly belong to the race of
philosophers. The greatest portion, however- those especially who belabor
the populace with clubs- are the principal courtiers of the palace,
executing as in duty bound, some laudable comicality of the king's.
"But what have we here? Heavens! the town is swarming with wild beasts!
How terrible a spectacle!- how dangerous a peculiarity!"
Terrible, if you please; but not in the least degree dangerous. Each
animal if you will take the pains to observe, is following, very quietly,
in the wake of its master. Some few, to be sure, are led with a rope about
the neck, but these are chiefly the lesser or timid species. The lion, the
tiger, and the leopard are entirely without restraint. They have been
trained without difficulty to their present profession, and attend upon
their respective owners in the capacity of valets-de-chambre. It is true,
there are occasions when Nature asserts her violated dominions;- but then
the devouring of a man-at-arms, or the throttling of a consecrated bull,
is a circumstance of too little moment to be more than hinted at in
Epidaphne.
"But what extraordinary tumult do I hear? Surely this is a loud noise even
for Antioch! It argues some commotion of unusual interest."
Yes- undoubtedly. The king has ordered some novel spectacle- some
gladiatorial exhibition at the hippodrome- or perhaps the massacre of the
Scythian prisoners- or the conflagration of his new palace- or the tearing
down of a handsome temple- or, indeed, a bonfire of a few Jews. The uproar
increases. Shouts of laughter ascend the skies. The air becomes dissonant
with wind instruments, and horrible with clamor of a million throats. Let
us descend, for the love of fun, and see what is going on! This way- be
careful! Here we are in the principal street, which is called the street
of Timarchus. The sea of people is coming this way, and we shall find a
difficulty in stemming the tide. They are pouring through the alley of
Heraclides, which leads directly from the palace;- therefore the king is
most probably among the rioters. Yes;- I hear the shouts of the herald
proclaiming his approach in the pompous phraseology of the East. We shall
have a glimpse of his person as he passes by the temple of Ashimah. Let us
ensconce ourselves in the vestibule of the sanctuary; he will be here
anon. In the meantime let us survey this image. What is it? Oh! it is the
god Ashimah in proper person. You perceive, however, that he is neither a
lamb, nor a goat, nor a satyr, neither has he much resemblance to the Pan
of the Arcadians. Yet all these appearances have been given- I beg pardon-
will be given- by the learned of future ages, to the Ashimah of the
Syrians. Put on your spectacles, and tell me what it is. What is it?
"Bless me! it is an ape!"
True- a baboon; but by no means the less a deity. His name is a derivation
of the Greek Simia- what great fools are antiquarians! But see!- see!-
yonder scampers a ragged little urchin. Where is he going? What is he
bawling about? What does he say? Oh! he says the king is coming in
triumph; that he is dressed in state; that he has just finished putting to
death, with his own hand, a thousand chained Israelitish prisoners! For
this exploit the ragamuffin is lauding him to the skies. Hark! here comes