Pyg (11 page)

The next morning, we met with a Mr Dawes, the representative of Messrs Banks and Ward, proprietors of the Theatre-Royal in Chester. He laid forth the requirements of his
Employers: that the Act be both honest and
Amusing
, that we engaged to keep the stage clean and free of any dirty Straw or Manure, and that we fitted ourselves into the space of the
Entr
’
acte
, which was not to be longer than Ten Minutes. A Comedy was then being represented, Mrs Cowley’s
More Ways Than One
, which Messrs Banks and Ward considered
suitable, and as its Business had been only middling of late, they hoped that this new attraction on the bills might revive its sagging Fortunes. Mr Bisset assured him that it would, and invited
him to see us at the
Inn
, where he would happily offer a demonstration of our Abilities, but Mr Dawes declined, declaring he had no time for such idle Rehearsals. ‘Mind you,’ he
added, as he departed, ‘this Engagement is for one night only. If you acquit yourself well, then we will consider extending it, but if you do not, then you may expect nothing more.’

We had apparently come a step down in the world, and there was no way to ascend again but by our own Exertions. Mr Bisset declared that he welcomed the challenge; he was delighted to return to
the Stage. He talked of new routines for us to prepare for our
London
début. And yet, for my part, I could take but little Pleasure in such things, nor feel so sanguine about our
success. I feared for my Master, as it seemed to me that he was not yet recovered from his terrible
Beating
, nor yet from the chill he had endured on our late journey. His enthusiasm was as
great as ever, but in many ways he seemed only the
Shadow
of the impresario he once had been. His hands were less steady, his eye less piercing, and his voice had a sort of Tremble to it,
which it had never had before. That afternoon, as we practised with our Cards, I urged him to take some
Rest
, and delay the next leg of our journey, but he would hear nothing of it.

In the evening, we were escorted to a small box at the very edge of the Stage, from which we might the more speedily ascend when our Turn came round. One of the Players, a Mr Edwin, in costume
for his role as Sir Marvell
Mushroom
, was appointed to give us our Cue, as he was to exit a moment before the rest of the Cast. That the scene was to change from that of the Town to that of
the
Country
was a perfect Excuse—our appearance would, as it were, set the stage for this Shift, even as the stage-hands were busily moving the props in and out. With his Periwig and
feathered Cap, his face whitened and his wrinkled cheeks spotted with Red, Mr Edwin looked almost the part of a
Clown
, which—such that we had any anxieties about the too-high dignity
of a Licensed
Theatre
—at once dissolved them. Indeed, our chiefest care was to remain still throughout the Overture—we were directly adjacent to the
Orchestra
—and
the first acts.

As our moment drew near, I watched the Players go through their Moves, and reflected that they, too, lived but at the
Pleasure
of their Audience. What a strange whim it was, when People
first put
People
upon a stage—and yet, this given, placing a
Pig
before them seemed perfectly sensible. Just as this thought was passing through my mind, there was Sir Marvell
Mushroom, a bit breathless, beckoning us on to the Stage. We did our best to unfold ourselves after our long Confinement, and strode upon the stage to much laughter and applause—as much from
Surprise
as Anticipation, I am sure. In accord with my Master’s instructions, a low Table had been placed before us, and my Cards laid on the floor beside it. And then we thought no
more, but at once set to our well-practised routine.

‘My lords, ladies, and Gentlemen,’ Mr Bisset began, ‘I come here before you this evening to present a
Wonder
, that men of both Universities, along with a Committee of
Edinburgh
Physicians
, have been, despite their estimable Learning, utterly unable to explain! It has been said, but falsely so, that the Pig, of all
Animals
, is the most Intractable,
stubborn, and
Lazy
. I shall here upon this Stage prove the wrongness of these common Sentiments, and more: that the
Pig
, when given the benefit of such an ordinary education as we
suppose fitted for any Child, can at once apprehend the basic Tenets of our
Language
, and employ it with as much
Sense
—some would say More—than most
Human
pupils.’

My first few questions were always of the sort that could be answered with ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ and I had but to select the correct card of the two. This was calculated to be
the sort of thing that would rouse the Audience’s scepticism, and thus prepare the way for their greater Amazement, when I began to
Spell
. And, indeed, the effect, if anything, seemed
far greater in this grand Theatre than it had in our more humble venues. Being asked what Place this was, and having replied at first, C-H-E-S-T-E-R, and, on further prompting, T-H-E-A-T-R-E
R-O-Y-A-L, the great Intake of
Breath
upon the part of our Spectators, was quite literally Audible. There was but time for one Question from the Audience, and here we had to take care that
it was answered with both Brevity and Alacrity, as our Ten Minutes were nearly up.

‘Is there anyone who has a Question, upon any Subject, that may be briefly answered by my learned Companion? Come, come, surely there is one such!’

High up at the back of the Balcony, a woman, who seemed somehow familiar to me, stood and raised her kerchief in her hand and waved it with such grace that Mr Bisset immediately called upon
her.

‘Will you ask your Pig, sir, if he serves you Freely? Is he not upon some constraint, or fear of
Punishment
, lest he not trot out the correct Answer?’

‘I shall let Toby speak for himself, Ma’am,’ was my Master’s reply. And so he did, and so I wrote: O-F M-Y O-W-N W-I-L-L.

This reply quite brought down the
House
, as there at once went up such a round of
Applause
as would gratify any Actor, along with many shouts and cheers and demands that we
continue our Performance. The noise only ceased when the Manager, Mr Dawes, came forth upon the Stage to declare that those who wished to address further question to the Sapient Pig could visit him
in the
Stalls
when the Play was done. And, indeed, the moment the curtain fell upon the Human players that evening, there was a great Rush to Mr Bisset and myself to put to us more
Questions, the which we did our best to Answer for the better part of an
Hour
. We were not too greatly surprised to discover that Ladies and Gentlemen of Quality sorted out much as did
supposedly Lesser folk in that they asked either out of curiosity (this was mostly the Ladies) or a desire to find us out in some
Fraud
(this from the Gentlemen). We acquitted ourselves at
all points. At last a rather portly fellow—whom we later discovered to be the chief Magistrate of that fair City—asked us when we could be seen again. My final answer, T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W,
pleased all present, not the least of them Mr Dawes, who was anxious both to disperse the lingering Crowd, and to reassure both them and us of our continuing
Engagement
. We retired wearily
yet happily to our lodgings, well satisfied with our evening’s Work, and looking forward to the betterment of our mutual Fortunes on our way to what we hoped and expected would be our
ultimate Triumph in
London
.

And yet it was never to be. That very night Mr Bisset suffered a sudden nervous collapse or
Apoplexy
such that—so I was told later—when the knock for
breakfast came at his door, he was unable to make any answer. The housemaid, on entering, had such a fright at his Appearance that she dropped the platter, which at once brought the Innkeeper up
from his rooms. Due to the curious construction of the
Inn
, with its two connected buildings and the stairs between, I was able to see and hear quite well the commotion that followed. Once
again a Doctor was summoned, and on arriving hastily mounted the steps. Of his examination of the Patient, I could see nothing, but he emerged shaking his head, and had a very grave consultation
with those assembled outside. I could hardly make out his words, catching only ‘nothing’ and ‘I fear he may
not
.’ And then, as I was about to regret once more the
absence of my good Sam to bring me word as to Mr Bisset’s condition, the Doctor himself with his assistant came directly to me.

‘Well, Mr Toby,’ said he, addressing me in a wholly natural manner, so rare among his kind, ‘you’d best go and see your Master. I’m afraid he’s not long for
this world! And, as you would seem to be the only
Creature
who is on close terms with him, there being no other Family present, I’m afraid you’ll have to do!’

With that, he and his man lifted me into my Case and carried me up the stairs into the very room where Mr Bisset lay. He looked very poorly indeed: his hair was all dishevelled, his skin a
mottled red, and his eyes wide and blank—an indication, it seemed to me, that the chief
Tenant
of their shared Apartment was ready to remove, having left both Windows open. He had
been, as it were, Propped up in his
Bed
, and his arms lay at his sides, no longer obedient to him whose mere
Look
had once commanded all. And yet there lingered yet some small portion
of his Spirit, as his right hand, trembling, appeared to motion me near. The good Doctor opened the door of my crate, and I approached with hesitation, uncertain of what I should expect. And then
my Master did a thing he never had in
Life
, which was to place his hand upon my Head. His lips quivered as he would Speak, but no words came forth, only a sort of shivering mumble.

The Doctor leant over, cupping his ear in his Hand and endeavouring to make out what words these were which trembled on the edge of speech. He frowned, listened again, and turned to me.
‘Good-bye,’ said he.

And with that, Mr Bisset’s body seemed at once to relax and recede, as though the
String
that had stretched it taut upon its Frame had been undone, and he slid down into the
bedcloathes, his last Exhalation of breath coming in the form of a drawn-out
Sigh
. The Doctor reached up and closed his Eyes, and everyone else cast theirs down, except me: transfixed by the
sight, I could not turn away. I had never before beheld the
Death
of any being, although on many Occasions I had feared for my own, or that of other Creatures. That humans, and
Animals
as well, were all such expiring things, reaching our Date at some moment we could neither know nor postpone, came as a strange shock to my Awareness; like a mark of punctuation in
the middle of a Sentence, it at once divided my own life into two Dependent
Clauses
. For knowing this, I knew myself, and was thence expelled for ever from my own Garden of Innocence. No
Angel
bearing a sword did I see, nor an Angry
God
to escort me out; about me I had only a few of my fellow-exiles, none of them any Wiser than the other in the face of this, our
strange and common
Fate
.