Pet food industry at work

Barren heath. Thunder. Darkness.
Männer in Röcken hasten durch die Nacht, keuchend, blanke Messer

in der Hand.
„So foul and fair a day I have not seen“.
Entfernt ein flackerndes Licht.
„Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of Hell,

   that my knife see not the wound it makes...“
„It was the owl, that shriek’d, the fatal bellman, which gives
 the stern’st good-night...“
Now over the one half-world nature seems dead... witchcraft celebrates
pale Hecate’s off’rings; and wither’d murther, alarum’d by his sentinel,
the wolf, whose howl’s his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, towards
his design moves like a ghost.
Die riesigen, zottigen Hunde, neben und vor ihnen laufend, antworten.
You all know, security: is mortal’s chiefest enemy.
Nicht mehr weit.
If it were done, when ‘tis done, then t’were well, if it were done quickly.
Men without kilts? Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; as hounds, and
greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, shoughs, water-rugs, and

demi-wolves are clept all by the name of dogs: the valu’d file

distinguishes them.
Die Männer bleiben stehen.

Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.
Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whin’d.
Round about the cauldron go;
in the poison’d entrails throw.-
Toad, that under cold stone
days and nights has thirty-one
swelter’d venom, sleeping got
boil thou first i’th’charmed pot.
- Double, double toil and trouble
   fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
in the cauldron boil and bake;
eye of newt, and toe of frog,
wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,
lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing,
for a charm of powerful trouble,
like a hell-broth boil: so the pet-food-industry juggle -
fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble!

If it were done, when ‘tis done, then t’were well, if it were done quickly.
Die Männer verstauen ihre Dolche wieder in den Gamaschen.
Ein Blick auf ihre Hunde - The love that follows us sometime is our trouble -
                                          which still we thank as love.
The rest is labour.
Wohlwollend betrachten sie ihr eigenes Werk:
- “These truffles have a pleasant sight; the air
   nimbly and sweetly recommends their odor
   unto our gentle senses“.

with thanks to mr.w.shakespeare.

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