Pity seized me when I heard This sad story, and I sprang From my couch and took a seat By the fireplace and spake: "Noble poet, tell what chance Brought thee to this beldam's hut. Why, oh why, in cruel wise, Wast thou changed into a dog?" But the pug exclaimed in joy: "What! You are no Frenchman then? But a German, and you've heard All my hapless monologue? "Ah, dear countryman, 'twas ill That old Köllè, Councillor, When at eve we sat and argued At the inn o'er pipe and mug, "Should have harped on the idea That by travel only might One attain such culture broad, As by travel he attained! "Now, so I might shed the rude Husk that on my manners lay, Even as Köllè, and attain Polish from the world at large, "To my home I bade farewell, And in quest of culture came To the Pyrenees at last, And Uraka's little hut. "And a reference I brought From Justinus Kerner too! Never did I dream my friend Stood in league with such a witch! "Friendly was Uraka's mood, Till at last with horrid shock, Lo, I found her friendliness Had to fiery passion grown. "Yes, within that withered breast Lust blazed up in monstrous wise, And at once this vicious crone Sought to drag me down to sin. "Yet I prayed: 'Oh, pardon, ma'am! Do not fancy I am one Of those wanton Goethe Bards,-- I belong to Swabia's school. "'Sweet Morality's our Muse And the drawers she wears are made Of the stoutest leather--Oh! Do not wrong my virtue, pray! "'Other bards may boast of soul, Others phantasy--and some Of their passion--Swabians have Nothing but their innocence. "'Nothing else do we possess! Do not rob me of my pure, Most religious beggar's cloak,-- Naked else my soul must go!' "Thus I spoke, whereat the hag Smiled with hideous irony, Seized a switch of mistletoe, Smote me over brow and cheek. "Chilly spasms seized me then Just as if a goose's skin Crept across my limbs--but oh! This was worse than goose's-skin! "It was nothing more nor less Than a dog-pelt! Since that hour, That accursèd hour, I've lived Changed into a lumpy pug!" Luckless wight! his piteous sobs Now denied him further speech, And so bitterly he wept That he half dissolved in tears. "Hark!" I spoke in pity then, "Tell me how you might be freed From this dog-skin. How may I Give you back to muse and man?" In despair, disconsolate, Then he raised his paws in air, And with sobs and groans at length Thus his mournful plaint he made: "Not before the Judgment Day Shall I shed this horrid form, If no noble virgin come To absolve me of the curse.