Browning's Shorter Poems. Robert Browning

With a, "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!"

      IX

      A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;

       So did the Corporation, too.

       For council dinners made rare havoc

       °158With Claret,° Moselle,° Vin-de-Grave,° Hock°; And half the money would replenish °160Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish°. 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, And what's dead can't come to life, I think. So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink[page 9] From the duty of giving you something for drink, And a matter of money to put in your poke; 170But as for the guilders, what we spoke 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,

       I've promised to visit by dinner-time

       Bagdat, and accept the prime

       Of the Head-Cook's pottage, all he's rich in,

       °179For having left, in the Caliph's° kitchen, 180Of a nest of scorpions no survivor: With him I proved no bargain-driver, With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver! And folks who put me in a passion May find me pipe after another fashion."

      XI

      "How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I brook

       Being worse treated than a cook?

       Insulted by a lazy ribald[page 10]

       With idle pipe and vesture piebald?

       You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst!

       190Blow your pipe there till you burst!"

      XII

      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 cunning

       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,

       200Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering,

       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,

       Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after

       The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.

      [page 11]

      XIII

      The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood

       As if they were changed into blocks of wood.

       210Unable to move a step, or cry

       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 bosom beat,

       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,

       220And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,

       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."

       When lo, as they reached the mountain-side,

       A wondrous portal opened wide,

       As if a cavern were suddenly hollowed;

       And the Piper advanced, and the children followed,

       230And when all were in, to the very last,

       The door in the mountain-side shut fast.

       Did I say all? No! One was lame,[page 12]

       And could not dance the whole of the way;

       And in after years, if you would blame

       His sadness, he was used to say—

       "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.

       240For he led us, he said, to a joyous land.

       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,

       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,

       250My lame foot would be speedily cured,

       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!"