Selections From The Poems And Plays Of Robert Browning Part 13

He advanced to the council-table: 70 And, "Please your honors," said he, "I'm able, By means of a secret charm, to draw All creatures living beneath the sun, That creep or swim or fly or run, After me so as you never saw! 75 And I chiefly use my charm On creatures that do people harm, The mole and toad and newt and viper; And people call me the Pied Piper."

(And here they noticed round his neck 80 A scarf of red and yellow stripe, To match with his coat of the self-same check; And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying As if impatient to be playing 85 Upon this pipe, as low it dangled Over his vesture so old-fangled.) "Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am, In Tartary I freed the Cham, Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats; 90 I eased in Asia the Nizam Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats: And as for what your brain bewilders, If I can rid your town of rats Will you give me a thousand guilders?" 95 "One? fifty thousand!"--was the exclamation Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.

VII

Into the street the Piper stepped, Smiling first a little smile, As if he knew what magic slept 100 In his quiet pipe the while; Then, like a musical adept, To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled, And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled, Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled; 105 And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, You heard as if an army muttered; And the muttering grew to a grumbling; And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling; And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. 110 Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, c.o.c.king tails and p.r.i.c.king whiskers, 115 Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives-- Followed the Piper for their lives.

From street to street he piped advancing, And step for step they followed dancing, 120 Until they came to the river Weser, Wherein all plunged and perished!

--Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar, Swam across and lived to carry (As he, the ma.n.u.script he cherished) 125 To Rat-land home his commentary: Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe, I heard a sound as of sc.r.a.ping tripe, And putting apples, wondrous ripe, Into a cider-press's gripe: 130 And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards, And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards, And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks, And a breaking the hoops of b.u.t.ter-casks: And it seemed as if a voice 135 (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery Is breathed) called out, 'O rats, rejoice!

The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!

So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!' 140 And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon, All ready staved, like a great sun shone Glorious scarce an inch before me, Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore me!'

--I found the Weser rolling o'er me." 145

VIII

You should have heard the Hamelin people Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.

"Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles, Poke out the nests and block up the holes!

Consult with carpenters and builders, 150 And leave in our town not even a trace Of the rats!"--when suddenly, up the face Of the Piper perked in the market-place, With a, "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!"

IX

A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue; 155 So did the Corporation, too.

For council dinners made rare havoc With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; And half the money would replenish Their cellar's biggest b.u.t.t with Rhenish. 160 To pay this sum to a wandering fellow With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!

"Beside," quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink, "Our business was done at the river's brink; We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, 165 And what's dead can't come to life, I think.

So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink From the duty of giving you something for drink, And a matter of money to put in your poke; But as for the guilders, what we spoke 170 Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.

Beside, our losses have made us thrifty.

A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"

X

The Piper's face fell, and he cried, "No trifling! I can't wait, beside! 175 I've promised to visit by dinner time Bagdat, and accept the prime Of the Head-Cook's pottage, all he's rich in, For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen, Of a nest of scorpions no survivor; 180 With him I proved no bargain-driver, With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!

And folks who put me in a pa.s.sion May find me pipe after another fas.h.i.+on."

XI

"How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I brook 185 Being worse treated than a Cook?

Insulted by a lazy ribald With idle pipe and vesture piebald?

You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, Blow your pipe there till you burst!" 190

XII

Once more he stepped into the street, And to his lips again Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; And ere he blew three notes (such sweet Soft notes as yet musician's cunning 195 Never gave the enraptured air) There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling; Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering, 200 And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering, Out came the children running.

All the little boys and girls, With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, 205 Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.

XIII

The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood As if they were changed into blocks of wood, Unable to move a step, or cry 210 To the children merrily skipping by, --Could only follow with the eye That joyous crowd at the Piper's back.

But how the Mayor was on the rack, And the wretched Council's bosoms beat, 215 As the Piper turned from the High Street To where the Weser rolled its waters Right in the way of their sons and daughters!

However he turned from South to West, And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, 220 And after him the children pressed; Great was the joy in every breast.

"He never can cross that mighty top!

He's forced to let the piping drop, And we shall see our children stop!" 225 When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side, A wondrous portal opened wide, As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed; And the Piper advanced and the children followed, And when all were in to the very last, 230 The door in the mountain-side shut fast.

Did I say, all? No! One was lame, And could not dance the whole of the way; And in after years, if you would blame His sadness, he was used to say-- 235 "It's dull in our town since my playmates left!

I can't forget that I'm bereft Of all the pleasant sights they see, Which the Piper also promised me.

For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, 240 Joining the town and just at hand, Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew And flowers put forth a fairer hue, And everything was strange and new; The sparrows were brighter than peac.o.c.ks here, 245 And their dogs outran our fallow deer, And honey-bees had lost their stings, And horses were born with eagles' wings: And just as I became a.s.sured My lame foot would be speedily cured, 250 The music stopped and I stood still, And found myself outside the hill, Left alone against my will, To go now limping as before, And never hear of that country more!" 255

XIV

Alas, alas for Hamelin!

There came into many a burgher's pate A text which says that heaven's gate Opes to the rich at as easy rate As the needle's eye takes a camel in! 260 The Mayor sent East, West, North, and South, To offer the Piper, by word of mouth, Wherever it was men's lot to find him, Silver and gold to his heart's content, If he'd only return the way he went, 265 And bring the children behind him.

But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor, And Piper and dancers were gone forever, They made a decree that lawyers never Should think their records dated duly 270 If, after the day of the month and year, These words did not as well appear, "And so long after what happened here On the Twenty-second of July, Thirteen hundred and seventy-six"; 275 And the better in memory to fix The place of the children's last retreat, They called it the Pied Piper's Street-- Where anyone playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labor. 280 Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern To shock with mirth a street so solemn; But opposite the place of the cavern They wrote the story on a column, And on the great church-window painted 285 The same, to make the world acquainted How their children were stolen away, And there it stands to this very day.

And I must not omit to say That in Transylvania there's a tribe 290 Of alien people who ascribe The outlandish ways and dress On which their neighbors lay such stress, To their fathers and mothers having risen Out of some subterraneous prison 295 Into which they were trepanned Long time ago in a mighty band Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, But how or why, they don't understand.

XV

So, w.i.l.l.y, let me and you be wipers 300 Of scores out with all men--especially pipers!

And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice, If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise!

THE FLIGHT OF THE d.u.c.h.eSS

I

You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the d.u.c.h.ess to cast off his yoke, too; So here's the tale from beginning to end, My friend! 5

II

Ours is a great wild country: If you climb to our castle's top, I don't see where your eye can stop; For when you've pa.s.sed the cornfield country, Where vineyards leave off, flocks are packed, 10 And sheep-range leads to cattle-tract, And cattle-tract to open-chase, And open-chase to the very base Of the mountain where, at a funeral pace, Round about, solemn and slow, 15 One by one, row after row, Up and up the pine-trees go, So, like black priests up, and so Down the other side again To another greater, wilder country, 20 That's one vast red drear burnt-up plain, Branched through and through with many a vein Whence iron's dug, and copper's dealt; Look right, look left, look straight before-- Beneath they mine, above they smelt, 25 Copper-ore and iron-ore, And forge and furnace mold and melt And so on, more and ever more, Till at the last, for a bounding belt, Comes the salt sand h.o.a.r of the great seash.o.r.e, 30 --And the whole is our Duke's country.

III

I was born the day this present Duke was-- (And O, says the song, ere I was old!) In the castle where the other Duke was-- (When I was happy and young, not old!) 35 I in the kennel, he in the bower: We are of like age to an hour.

My father was huntsman in that day; Who has not heard my father say That, when a boar was brought to bay, 40 Three times, four times out of five, With his huntspear he'd contrive To get the killing-place transfixed, And pin him true, both eyes betwixt?

And that's why the old Duke would rather 45 He lost a salt-pit than my father, And loved to have him ever in call; That's why my father stood in the hall When the old Duke brought his infant out To show the people, and while they pa.s.sed 50 The wondrous bantling round about, Was first to start at the outside blast As the Kaiser's courier blew his horn, Just a month after the babe was born.

"And," quoth the Kaiser's courier, "since 55 The Duke has got an heir, our Prince Needs the Duke's self at his side"; The Duke looked down and seemed to wince, But he thought of wars o'er the world wide, Castles a-fire, men on their march, 60 The toppling tower, the cras.h.i.+ng arch; And up he looked, and awhile he eyed The row of crests and s.h.i.+elds and banners Of all achievements after all manners, And "aye," said the Duke with a surly pride. 65 The more was his comfort when he died At next year's end, in a velvet suit, With a gilt glove on his hand, his foot In a silken shoe for a leather boot, Petticoated like a herald, 70 In a chamber next to an ante-room, Where he breathed the breath of page and groom, What he called stink, and they, perfume: --They should have set him on red Berold Mad with pride, like fire to manage! 75 They should have got his cheek fresh tannage Such a day as today in the merry suns.h.i.+ne!

Had they stuck on his fist a rough-foot merlin!

(Hark, the wind's on the heath at its game!

Oh, for a n.o.ble falcon-lanner 80 To flap each broad wing like a banner, And turn in the wind, and dance like flame!) Had they broached a white-beer cask from Berlin --Or if you incline to prescribe mere wine Put to his lips, when they saw him pine, 85 A cup of our own Moldavia fine, Cotnar for instance, green as May sorrel And ropy with sweet--we shall not quarrel.