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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116136" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Pied Piper of Hamelin</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A Child's Story</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,<br> By famous Hanover city;<br>The river Weser, deep and wide,<br>Washes its wall on the southern side<br>A pleasanter spot you never spied;<br> But when begins my ditty,<br>Almost five hundred years ago,<br>To see the townsfolk suffer so<br> From vermin, was a pity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Rats!<br>They fought the dogs and killed the cats,<br> And bit the babies in the cradles,<br>And ate the cheeses out of the vats,<br> And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles.<br>Split open the kegs of salted sprats,<br>Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,<br>And even spoiled the women's chats<br> By drowning their speaking<br> With shrieking and squeaking<br>In fifty different sharps and flats.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> III.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At last the people in a body<br> To the town hall came flocking:<br>"'Tis clear," cried they, "our mayor's a noddy;<br> And as for our corporation—shocking<br>To think we buy gowns lined with ermine<br>For dolts that can't or won't determine<br>What's best to rid us of our vermin!<br>You hope, because you're old and obese,<br>To find in the furry civic robe ease?<br>Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking<br>To find the remedy we're lacking,<br>Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!"<br>At this the Mayor and Corporation<br>Quaked with a mighty consternation.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> IV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An hour they sat in council;<br> At length the Mayor broke silence<br>"For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell;<br> I wish I were a mile hence!<br>It's easy to bid one rack one's brain—<br>I'm sure my poor head aches again,<br>I've scratched it so, and all in vain.<br>Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!"<br>Just as he said this, what should hap<br>At the chamber door but a gentle tap?<br>"Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?"<br>(With the Corporation as he sat<br>Looking little though wondrous fat;<br>Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister<br>Than a too-long-opened oyster,<br>Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous<br>For a plate of turtle green and glutinous)<br>"Only a scraping of shoes on the mat?<br>Anything like the sound of a rat<br>Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> V.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Come in!"—the mayor cried, looking bigger:<br>And in did come the strangest figure!<br>His queer long coat from heel to head<br>Was half of yellow and half of red,<br>And he himself was tall and thin,<br>With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,<br>And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin,<br>No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin,<br>But lips where smiles went out and in;<br>There was no guessing his kith and kin:<br>And nobody could enough admire<br>The tall man and his quaint attire.<br>Quoth one: "It's as my great-grandsire,<br>Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone,<br>Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> VI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He advanced to the council table:<br>And, "Please your honors," said he, "I'm able,<br>By means of a secret charm, to draw<br> All creatures living beneath the sun,<br> That creep or swim or fly or run,<br>After me so as you never saw!<br>And I chiefly use my charm<br>On creatures that do people harm,<br>The mole and toad and newt and viper;<br>And people call me the Pied Piper."<br>(And here they noticed round his neck<br> A scarf of red and yellow stripe,<br>To match with his coat of the selfsame check;<br> And at the scarf's end hung a pipe;<br>And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying<br>As if impatient to be playing<br>Upon this pipe, as low it dangled<br>Over his vesture so old-fangled.)<br>"Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am,<br>In Tartary I freed the Cham,<br> Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;<br>I eased in Asia the Nizam<br> Of a monstrous brood of vampyre bats:<br>And as for what your brain bewilders,<br> If I can rid your town of rats<br>Will you give me a thousand guilders?"<br>"One? fifty thousand!"—was the exclamation<br>Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> VII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Into the street the Piper stepped<br> Smiling first a little smile,<br>As if he knew what magic slept<br> In his quiet pipe the while;<br>Then, like a musical adept,<br>To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,<br>And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,<br>Like a candle flame where salt is sprinkled;<br>And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,<br>You heard as if an army muttered;<br>And the muttering grew to a grumbling;<br>And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;<br>And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.<br>Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,<br>Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,<br>Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,<br> Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,<br>Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,<br> Families by tens and dozens,<br>Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives—<br>Followed the piper for their lives.<br>From street to street he piped advancing,<br>And step for step they followed dancing,<br>Until they came to the river Weser,<br> Wherein all plunged and perished!<br>—Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar,<br>Swam across and lived to carry<br> (As he, the manuscript he cherished)<br>To Rat-land home his commentary:<br>Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe,<br>I heard a sound as of scraping tripe,<br>And putting apples, wondrous ripe,<br>Into a cider-press's gripe:<br>And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards,<br>And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards,<br>And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,<br>And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks:<br>And it seemed as if a voice<br> (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery<br>Is breathed) called out, 'Oh rats, rejoice!<br> The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!<br>So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,<br>Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!'<br>And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,<br>All ready staved, like a great sun shone<br>Glorious scarce an inch before me,<br>Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore me!'<br>—I found the Weser rolling o'er me."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> VIII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You should have heard the Hamelin people<br>Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.<br>"Go, cried the Mayor, "and get long poles,<br>Poke out the nests and block up the holes!<br>Consult with carpenters and builders,<br>And leave in our town not even a trace<br>Of the rats!"—when suddenly, up the face<br>Of the Piper perked in the market place,<br>With a "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> IX</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;<br>So did the Corporation too.<br>For council dinners made rare havoc<br>With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;<br>And half the money would replenish<br>Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish.<br>To pay this sum to a wandering fellow<br>With a gipsy coat of red and yellow!<br>"Beside," quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink,<br>"Our business was done at the river's brink;<br>We saw with our eyes the vermin sink,<br>And what's dead can't come to life, I think.<br>So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink<br>From the duty of giving you something for drink,<br>And a matter of money to put in your poke;<br>But as for the guilders, what we spoke<br>Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.<br>Beside, our losses have made us thrifty.<br>A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> X</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Piper's face fell, and he cried<br>"No trifling! I can't wait, beside!<br>I've promised to visit by dinner time<br>Bagdat, and accept the prime<br>Of the Head-Cook's pottage, all he's rich in,<br>For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen,<br>Of a nest of scorpions no survivor:<br>With him I proved no bargain driver,<br>With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!<br>And folks who put me in a passion<br>May find me pipe after another fashion."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> XI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"How?" cried the mayor, "d'ye think I brook<br>Being worse treated than a cook?<br>Insulted by a lazy ribald<br>With idle pipe and vesture piebald?<br>You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,<br>Blow your pipe there till you burst!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> XII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once more he stepped into the street<br> And to his lips again<br> Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;<br>And ere he blew three notes (such sweet<br>Soft notes as yet musician's cunning<br> Never gave the enraptured air)<br>There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling<br>Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling,<br>Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering<br>Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering.<br>And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering,<br>Out came the children running.<br>All the little boys and girls,<br>With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,<br>And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,<br>Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after<br>The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> XIII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood<br>As if they were changed into blocks of wood,<br>Unable to move a step, or cry<br>To the children merrily skipping by,<br>—Could only follow with the eye<br>That joyous crowd at the Piper's back.<br>But how the Mayor was on the rack,<br>And the wretched Council's bosoms beat,<br>As the Piper turned from the High Street<br>To where the Weser rolled its waters<br>Right in the way of their sons and daughters!<br>However he turned from South to West,<br>And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,<br>And after him the children pressed;<br>Great was the joy in every breast.<br>"He never can cross that mighty top!<br>He's forced to let the piping drop,<br>And we shall see our children stop!"<br>When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side,<br>A wonderous portal opened wide,<br>As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;<br>And the Piper advanced and the children followed,<br>And when all were in to the very last,<br>The door in the mountain-side shut fast.<br>Did I say, all? No! One was lame,<br> And could not dance the whole of the way;<br>And in after years, if you would blame<br> His sadness, he was used to say,—<br>"It's dull in our town since my playmates left!<br>I can't forget that I'm bereft<br>Of all the pleasant sights they see,<br>Which the Piper also promised me.<br>For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,<br>Joining the town and just at hand,<br>Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew,<br>And flowers put forth a fairer hue,<br>And everything was strange and new;<br>The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,<br>And their dogs outrun our fallow deer,<br>And honey-bees had lost their stings,<br>And horses were born with eagles' wings:<br>And just as I became assured<br>My lame foot would be speedily cured,<br>The music stopped and I stood still,<br>And found myself outside the hill,<br>Left alone against my will,<br>To go now limping as before,<br>And never hear of that country more!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> XIV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas, alas, for Hamelin!<br> There came into many a burgher's pate<br> A text which says that heaven's gate<br> Opes to the rich at as easy rate<br>As the needle's eye takes a camel in!<br>The mayor sent East, West, North, and South,<br>To offer the Piper, by word of mouth,<br> Wherever it was men's lot to find him,<br>Silver and gold to his heart's content,<br>If he'd only return the way he went,<br> And bring the children behind him.<br>But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor,<br>And piper and dancers were gone forever,<br>They made a decree that lawyers never<br> Should think their records dated duly<br>If, after the day of the month and year,<br>These words did not as well appear,<br>"And so long after what happened here<br> On the Twenty-second of July,<br>Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:"<br>And the better in memory to fix<br>The place of the children's last retreat,<br>They called it the Pied Piper's Street,—<br>Where any one playing on pipe or tabor<br>Was sure for the future to lose his labor.<br>Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern<br> To shock with mirth a street so solemn;<br>But opposite the place of the cavern<br> They wrote the story on a column,<br>And on the great church-window painted<br>The same, to make the world acquainted<br>How their children were stolen away,<br>And there it stands to this very day.<br>And I must not omit to say<br>That in Transylvania there's a tribe<br>Of alien people who ascribe<br>The outlandish ways and dress<br>On which their neighbors lay such stress,<br>To their fathers and mothers having risen<br>Out of some subterraneous prison<br>Into which they were trepanned<br>Long time ago in a mighty band<br>Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,<br>But how or why, they don't understand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> XV</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, Willy, let me and you be wipers<br>Of scores out with all men—especially pipers!<br>And whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice,<br>If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Browning">Robert Browning</a> from <i>Cavalier Tunes</i><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116136" data-title="The Pied Piper of Hamelin de Robert Browning" data-description="A Child's Story/ I./Hamelin 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;/ But when begins my ditty,/Almost five hundred years ago,/To see the ..."></div>
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