ROBERT BROWNING

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; "Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; "Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,5 And into the midnight we galloped abreast. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique[234] right,10 Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. 'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near Lokeren,[235] the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear; At Boom,[236] a great yellow star came out to see;15 At Düffeld,[237] 'twas morning as plain as could be; And from Mecheln[238] church-steeple we heard the half-chime, So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!" At Aershot,[239] up leaped of a sudden the sun, And against him the cattle stood black every one,20 To stare through the mist at us galloping past, And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last, With resolute shoulders, each butting away The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray: And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back25 For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence,—ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.30 By Hasselt,[240] Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur! Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix"—for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,35 As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. So, we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Looz[241] and past Tongres,[242] no cloud in the sky; The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff;40 Till over by Dalhem[243] a dome-spire sprang white, And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!" "How they'll greet us!"—and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight45 Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,[244] With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall. Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,50 Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer; Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. And all I remember is—friends flocking round55 As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent.60

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: A mile or so away, On a little mound, Napoleon Stood on our storming-day; With neck out-thrust,[245] you fancy how,5 Legs wide, arms locked behind, As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. Just as perhaps he mused[246] "My plans That soar, to earth may fall,10 Let once my army-leader Lannes[247] Waver at yonder wall,"— Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew A rider, bound on bound Full-galloping; nor bridle drew15 Until he reached the mound. Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect—20 (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace25 We've got you Ratisbon! The Marshal's in the market-place, And you'll be there anon To see your flag-bird[248] flap his vans Where I, to heart's desire,30 Perched him!" The chief's eye flashed; his plans Soared up again like fire. The chief's eye flashed; but presently Softened itself, as sheathes A film the mother-eagle's eye35 When her bruised eaglet breathes; "You're wounded!" "Nay," the soldier's pride Touched to the quick, he said: "I'm killed, Sire!" And his chief beside, Smiling the boy fell dead.40

Hamelin[249] Town's in Brunswick, By famous Hanover city; The river Weser, deep and wide, Washes its wall on the southern side; A pleasanter spot you never spied;5 But when begins my ditty, Almost five hundred years ago, To see the townsfolk suffer so From vermin, was a pity.

Rats!10 They fought the dogs and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats,15 Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats.20

At last the people in a body To the Town Hall came flocking: "'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy; And as for our Corporation—shocking To think we buy gowns lined with ermine25 For dolts that can't or won't determine What's best to rid us of our vermin! You hope, because you're old and obese, To find in the furry civic robe ease? Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking30 To find the remedy we're lacking, Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!" At this the Mayor and Corporation Quaked with a mighty consternation.

An hour they sat in council;35 At length the Mayor broke silence: "For a guilder[250] I'd my ermine gown sell, I wish I were a mile hence! It's easy to bid one rack one's brain— I'm sure my poor head aches again,40 I've scratched it so, and all in vain. O for a trap, a trap, a trap!" Just as he said this, what should hap At the chamber-door but a gentle tap? "Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?"45 (With the Corporation as he sat, Looking little though wondrous fat; Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister Than a too-long-opened oyster, Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous50 For a plate of turtle green and glutinous) "Only a scraping of shoes on the mat? Anything like the sound of a rat Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!"

"Come in!" the Mayor cried, looking bigger:55 And in did come the strangest figure! His queer long coat from heel to head Was half of yellow and half of red, And he himself was tall and thin, With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,60 And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin, But lips where smiles went out and in; There was no guessing his kith and kin: And nobody could enough admire65 The tall man and his quaint attire. Quoth one: "It's as my great grandsire, Starting up at the Trump of Doom's[251] tone, Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!"

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."[252] (And here they noticed round his neck80 A scarf of red and yellow stripe, To match with his coat of the self-same cheque; And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying As if impatient to be playing85 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,[253] Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;90 I eased in Asia the Nizam[254] 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.

Into the street the Piper stept, Smiling first a little smile, As if he knew what magic slept100 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, Cocking tails and pricking 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 by step they followed dancing,120 Until they came to the river Weser, Wherein all plunged and perished! —Save one who, stout as Julius Cæsar, Swam across and lived to carry (As he, the manuscript he cherished)125 To rat-land home his commentary:[255] Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe, I heard a sound as of scraping 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 butter casks: And it seemed as if a voice135 (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, Already 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

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!"

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 butt 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[256]; But as for the guilders, what we spoke170 Of them, as you very well know, was in joke. Beside, our losses have made us thrifty. A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"

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[257]! And folks who put me in a passion May find me pipe after another fashion."

"How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I brook185 Being worse treated than a Cook? Insulted by a lazy ribald With idle pipe and vesture piebald[258]? You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, Blow your pipe there till you burst!"190

Once more he stept 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 cunning195 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.

The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood As if they were changed into blocks of wood, Unable to move a step, or cry210 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 peacocks 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 assured 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

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[259]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 duly270 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 any one 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 painted285 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 tribe290 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 prison295 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.

So, Willy, let me and you be wipers300 Of scores out with all men—especially pipers! And, whether they pipe us free fróm rats or fróm mice, If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise!

On the sea and at the Hogue,[260] sixteen hundred ninety-two, Did the English fight the French,—woe to France! And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the blue, Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue, Came crowding ship on ship to Saint Malo on the Rance, [261]5 With the English fleet in view.

'Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase; First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville. Close on him fled, great and small, Twenty-two good ships in all;10 And they signalled to the place "Help the winners of a race! Get us guidance, give us harbor, take us quick—or, quicker still, Here's the English can and will!"

Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board;15 "Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?" laughed they: "Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and scored, Shall the 'Formidable' here with her twelve and eighty guns Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way, Trust to enter where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons,20 And with flow at full beside? Now, 'tis slackest ebb of tide. Reach the mooring? Rather say, While rock stands or water runs, Not a ship will leave the bay!"25

Then was called a council straight, Brief and bitter the debate: "Here's the English at our heels; would you have them take in tow All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow, For a prize to Plymouth Sound[262]?30 Better run the ships aground!" (Ended Damfreville his speech.) "Not a minute more to wait! Let the Captains all and each Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach!35 France must undergo her fate.

"Give the word!" But no such word Was ever spoke or heard; For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck amid all these —A Captain? A Lieutenant? A Mate—first, second, third?40 No such man of mark, and meet With his betters to compete! But a simple Breton sailor pressed[263] by Tourville[264] for the fleet, A poor coasting-pilot he, Hervé Riel the Croisickese.[265]

And "What mockery or malice have we here?" cries Hervé Riel:45 "Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues? Talk to me of rocks and shoals, me who took the soundings, tell On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell, 'Twixt the offing here and Grève where the river disembogues? Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for?50 Morn and eve, night and day, Have I piloted your bay, Entered free and anchored fast at the foot of Solidor. Burn the fleet and ruin France? That were worse than fifty Hogues! Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me there's a way!55 Only let me lead the line, Have the biggest ship to steer, Get this 'Formidable' clear, Make the others follow mine, And I lead them, most and least, by a passage I know well,60 Right to Solidor past Grève, And there lay them safe and sound; And if one ship misbehave, —Keel so much as grate the ground, Why, I've nothing but my life,—here's my head!" cries Hervé Riel.65

Not a minute more to wait. "Steer us in, then, small and great! Take the helm, lead the line, save the squadron!" cried its chief. Captains, give the sailor place! He is Admiral, in brief.70 Still the north-wind, by God's grace! See the noble fellow's face As the big ship, with a bound, Clears the entry like a hound, Keeps the passage as its inch of way were the wide sea's profound!75 See, safe through shoal and rock, How they follow in a flock, Not a ship that misbehaves, not a keel that grates the ground, Not a spar that comes to grief! The peril, see, is past,80 All are harbored to the last, And just as Hervé Riel hollas "Anchor!"—sure as fate, Up the English come—too late!

So, the storm subsides to calm: They see the green trees wave85 On the heights o'erlooking Grève. Hearts that bled are stanched with balm. "Just our rapture to enhance, Let the English rake the bay, Gnash their teeth and glare askance90 As they cannonade away! 'Neath rampired Solidor pleasant riding on the Rance!" How hope succeeds despair on each Captain's countenance! Out burst all with one accord, "This is Paradise for Hell!95 Let France, let France's King Thank the man that did the thing!" What a shout, and all one word, "Hervé Riel!" As he stepped in front once more,100 Not a symptom of surprise In the frank blue Breton eyes, Just the same man as before.

Then said Damfreville, "My friend, I must speak out at the end,105 Though I find the speaking hard. Praise is deeper than the lips: You have saved the King his ships, You must name your own reward. 'Faith, our sun was near eclipse!110 Demand whate'er you will, France remains your debtor still. Ask to heart's content and have! or my name's not Damfreville."

Then a beam of fun outbroke On the bearded mouth that spoke,115 As the honest heart laughed through Those frank eyes of Breton blue: "Since I needs must say my say, Since on board the duty's done, And from Malo Roads to Croisic Point, what is it but a run?—120 Since 'tis ask and have, I may— Since the others go ashore— Come! A good whole holiday! Leave to go and see my wife, whom I call the Belle Aurore!" That he asked and that he got,—nothing more.125

Name and deed alike are lost: Not a pillar nor a post In his Croisic keeps alive the feat as it befell; Not a head in white and black On a single fishing smack,130 In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack All that France saved from the fight whence England bore the bell. Go to Paris: rank on rank Search the heroes flung pell-mell On the Louvre, face and flank!135 You shall look long enough ere you come to Hervé Riel. So, for better and for worse, Hervé Riel, accept my verse! In my verse, Hervé Riel, do thou once more Save the squadron, honor France, love thy wife the Belle Aurore!140