"I can't wait to play our instruments in front of the mayor, but I don't think he's smart enough to see or hear our instruments," said Banjo, hoping that the mayor could hear him. "Even apes can appreciate our music, but everyone says that the mayor is dumber than an ape. Everyone!" The mayor was deeply saddened by what was said of him since he believed that music was his forte. He tried to hold back his tears, but the tears gushed out like a waterspout.
One minute later the mayor opened the doors to his office. He was so fat, that his width was almost greater than his height. "I'm glad that a new band has come to visit me," he asked them. "I'm always on the lookout for new and exciting bands. What is your band called?" The band members were afraid because they had not thought up a name for their band.
"We have to come up with a simple, yet catchy name," suggested Hans. "Let us call the band THE EMPERORS NEW FOOLS." Tram suggested another name. "Let us call the band CAN YOU TEACH ME THE MEANING OF FEAR," suggested Tram. Banjo said, "Let us call the band THE BREMEN 4," Elisa shook her head when she heard this. "What do you suggest?" Banjo asked Elisa. Elisa responded by raising one hand and spreading her five fingers. "THE BREMEN FIVE it is," exclaimed Banjo.
"I second that," said Tram, raising a hand. Elisa beamed with pride, and her swan screeched with glee. "You can't be serious!" said a mad Hans, placing a hand over his face. "The swan is not part of the band! It's just a dumb animal. We'll be the laughing stock of all of Australia if we count the swan as part of the band." Hans wanted to carry on talking about the band name, but he was silenced when Elisa squeezed his shoulder tightly. She had a disapproving look on her face. Elisa wanted her swan to be treated with more respect. "Why not?" asked Tram, responding to Hans. "Every band needs a mascot." Hans gave up trying to defend his position.
"Our band must be called THE BREMEN FIVE," exclaimed Banjo to the mayor. "Show me what you blokes can do!" said the mayor to the band. The band began to sing and pretend to play instruments. Hans pretended to play the drums with his hands, but he did make authentic sounding drum sounds with his mouth. They sang a song called, "Waltzing Matilda." The mayor and those with him were very entertained by the music being played by the band. When they finished playing he clapped his hands. Seconds later the steward also clapped his hands, although he was a bit confused regarding why the mayor appeared to like the music so much. "I've long searched for musicians who are worthy to play for me, and I think I've found them," said the mayor. "I can't believe you blokes wrote this masterpiece!" The entire band yelled with joy when they heard the mayor praise their musical talents.
"None of us wrote this song," Tram told the mayor, raising a finger at Elisa. "However, the Swan Lady came up with the musical arrangement. She knew about the song we just sang, and decided to change the melody." The mayor bowed at Elisa. He turned around, opened up a cupboard and searched for a certain jar of perfumed oil. He found it and handed Elisa that jar of perfumed oil. "Take this as your payment for today," said the mayor. Hans looked at the oil with anticipation, for it was very valuable and he wanted it. Then the mayor turned to his steward and asked that steward to prepare a room for the band, saying, "These are my special guests, for they have proved themselves to be great musicians. Give them a spacious suite." The steward prepared a spacious suite for the band and led them into the suite. The beds in that suite looked comfortable to sleep on, but there didn't appear to be any tables inside the suite.
"You all must rest for tonight," the steward told them. "You're going to perform more music in the courtyard as soon as the stage is set up tomorrow. You're going to have to play at least three songs tomorrow. Good luck!" He closed the door and left the scene. Hans Westergaard placed a blanket on the floor, and then he explored the pantry. He placed bread, wine, cheese, and olives on the blanket. Hans may have prepared the side dishes, but Elisa prepared the main meal. The main meal was a paella dish. Paella is a kind of fried rice or risotto. The band members sat beside the blanket and began to tuck in. Elisa broke a piece of slice of cheese and gave it to her swan. While they were eating, Elisa realized that it had been around a year since her sister was cursed, and she felt deeply sorry for her sister when she thought about it. Then Elisa rose and placed her pet swan in a water basin, giving the swan a gentle massage, a scrub with soap, and a nice wash.
She took a pint of expensive perfumed oil, which was the same perfumed oil that the mayor gave her, and poured it in a water basin. She grabbed her pet swan and began to anoint it with the perfumed oil. She wiped the swan clean with her outer garment, while the sweet scent of the oil filled the room. Hans smelt the scent and ran over to Elisa, grabbing the pint of fragrant oil from her hand. Holding the pint of oil close to one of his ears, he shook it and realized that the container was empty. Hans was horrified that the perfumed oil was used up because he intended to steal the perfumed oil from Elisa. "What do you think you're doing?" shouted Hans to Elisa. "Don't you realize how expensive this oil is? You could have sold it for food, and shared the food with us. It's worth hundreds of silver coins."
Elisa wanted so much to talk to Hans, and give him a piece of her own mind, but she remembered that she had taken a vow of silence. Three years had not yet passed since she had taken that vow of silence. Besides, she had to admit to herself that Hans Westergaard had a point. Elisa could have bought food using the expensive oil, and shared it with the others. She now wondered if she had done the right thing. She hung her head in shame. Her sister was her sister, but that did not mean that her sister should be treated any differently from the rest of humanity.
Banjo and Tram rebuked Hans. "You're not in charge of our finances, Hans, and you never will be," shouted Banjo, who pointed at Elisa, and then put that hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. "She's in charge!" Banjo whispered words into Elisa's ear in an attempt to comfort her. "Don't pay attention to him," Banjo whispered softly to her. "Hans is not that bad. He just says things that he doesn't really mean."
"Banjo is right," said Tram, rebuking Hans regarding the perfumed oil. "You're the money waster, not the Swan Lady. Besides, that pint of perfumed oil was not yours, anyway." Hans looked at Elisa furiously. Then he looked at Tram, and he felt angry because she did not defend him. "Elisa's the one who ought to handle the money," argued Tram. "She is the composer of the band, and not once has she taken more than her fair share. She has always divided up the money evenly."
"I think she loves the swan," said Banjo softly to Hans. "I don't know why, but something about it feels right." "Why did you do it?" asked Hans to Elisa. "Why did you waste the perfumed oil?" She responded by patting Hans on the shoulder to indicate that she held no grudge against Hans. She placed a hand over her face in frustration because it was so hard for her to communicate with him. She took out a pen and drew on a piece of paper.
She gave the piece of paper to Hans. Hans puzzled over this for quite some time. Elisa began to write melodies on paper, but not words. She wanted to write songs about female empowerment, but sadly she could not do this. Looking at the piece of paper she gave him, Hans realized that she had drawn a picture of a birthday cake.
She drew the birthday cake to indicate that it was the swan's birthday. Hans was very grieved when he saw that picture of the birthday cake, partially because it reminded him about his own lonely birthdays. "I…" Hans began to say to Elisa, but he did not know how to finish, or maybe he did not want to finish. He waved at her in a friendly manner, as if to bid her goodnight.
The next day the stage was set up in the courtyard of the mansion. The gates to the courtyard were opened so that the public could enter. Bright burning torches were used to illuminate the stage. A large crowd gathered in the middle of the courtyard of the mansion to hear the band play. The band began to make their way up the stairs to the top of the stage. "Did you really need to write songs about boys?" Hans asked Tram. "Can't you write about something more original? Like songs about China, or Vietnam, or whatever?" Tram answered him by asking him a question. "Did you really need to write songs about breakups?" she asked, to which Hans gave no reply. The black swan also began to walk onto the stage, via the stairs. Elisa was the only one in her band that welcomed the swan with open arms. The other band members did not think the black swan belonged on stage, especially Hans. "Tram, you're the fearless one," Banjo asked her. "What do you have to say about our band?"
Tram waved to the crowd and the crowd cheered. "Hello everybody I…" began Tram. Tram stopped for a moment to think about what to say. She gestured to the crowd, and said, "I just want to say that I am just a person even though I am Asian. Just because I know how to sing and play the violin doesn't make me any different from the rest of you. I'm not even sure that I'm a professional. I bet even a chimpanzee can sing, and play the violin better than I can." The crowd laughed, but she did not know why because she had not intended her words to be taken in a humorous manner. Banjo took Tram aside and shouted, "Please stop talking. No one wants to hear about your life story yet. They all came here for the music, and we're going to give it to them."
Banjo moved his arms and fingers around as if he was playing the banjo. Elisa did the same thing. Tram moved her arms up and down as if she was playing the violin. Hans moved his arms and wrists up and down to make it look like he was playing an invisible drum, but he did make drum sounds with his mouth. The band sang as they did these things. Their performance was so realistic you could almost hear the sound coming out of the nonexistent instruments. At first, the audience was perplexed as to what was going on. The mayor, however, began cheering them on. "Bravo!" he cried out, turning to the members of the audience. "This is glorious! Aren't you enjoying this?" The audience saw the mayor and began to imitate him. "What kind of magical music is this?" they asked amongst themselves, but they really had no idea what was going on.