Charubel's image for this degree is a deliberate affront to its sign: a man of stout make and good proportions, round rosy features, looking very merry, dancing grotesquely. Set this against Capricorn's public face, lean, guarded, dignified, and the comedy is structural. Everything about the dancer is abundance: his build is stout but well proportioned, his face is round and rosy, his mood is very merry, and his dance is grotesque, meaning unschooled, exaggerated, indifferent to how it looks. He is not performing well; that is the point. He is enjoying his own body in motion without submitting the enjoyment to review.
Read against the sixteenth degree of Capricorn the image is medicine, prescribed exactly where it is least welcome, for the sign's characteristic ailment is the administration of the self, every gesture budgeted, every appearance managed, joy postponed until it can be exhibited creditably. The rosy dancer has filed no application. His merriment is solvent, his health is visible, and his indifference to grace is itself a kind of grace, the freedom of a man who has stopped watching himself. The degree also hints at the old tradition of the feast, the lord of misrule, the day the dignified must dance badly in public and be better for it. The shadow readings are two: the buffoon who has made grotesquerie a permanent office because it excuses him from being taken seriously, and the onlooker, sour at the wall, who calls his own envy taste. On a natal Sun, Venus or Jupiter this degree tends to mark those whose vitality outruns their decorum, and its counsel to every chart it touches is the same: once in a while, where people can see you, dance badly and mean it.