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Title: The Piper: A Play in Four Acts

Author: Josephine Preston Peabody

Release date: March 1, 2004 [eBook #11661]
Most recently updated: December 26, 2020

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Al Haines

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PIPER: A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS ***

Produced by Al Haines

The Piper

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS

By JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY

BOSTON and NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

The Riverside Press Cambridge 1910

COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY JOSEPHINE PEABODY MARKS ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Published November 1909

SEVENTH IMPRESSION

TO

LIONEL S. MARKS

Anno 1284
Am Dage Johannis et Pauli
War der 26 Junii
Dorch einen piper mit allerlei farve bekledet
Gewesen CXXX kinder verledet binnen Hamelen geboren
To Calvarii bi den koppen verloren

[THE HAMELIN INSCRIPTION]

CHARACTERS

THE PIPER )
MICHAEL-THE-SWORD-EATER ) Strolling Players
CHEAT-THE-DEVIL )

JACOBUS the Burgomeister )
KURT the Syndic )
PETER the Cobbler )
HANS the Butcher )
AXEL the Smith ) Men of Hamelin
MARTIN the Watch )
PETER the Sacristan )
ANSELM, a young priest )
OLD CLAUS, a miser )
TOWN CRIER )

JAN )
HANSEL )
ILSE ) Children
TRUDE )
RUDI )

VERONIKA, the wife of Kurt
BARBARA, daughter of Jacobus
WIFE of HANS the Butcher
WIFE of AXEL the Smith
WIFE of MARTIN the Watch
OLD URSULA

Burghers, nuns, priests, and children

SCENE: HAMELIN ON THE WESER, 1284 A.D.

SCENES

ACT I. The market-place in Hamelin
ACT II. SCENE I. Inside the 'Hollow-Hill' SCENE II. The Cross-ways
ACT III. The Cross-ways
ACT IV. The market-place in Hamelin

One week is supposed to elapse between Acts I and II.

Acts II and III occupy one day.

Act IV concerns the following morning.

The Piper

ACT I
SCENE: The market-place of Hamelin. Right, the Minster, with an open shrine (right centre) containing a large sculptured figure of the Christ. Right, farther front, the house of KURT; and other narrow house-fronts. Left, the Rathaus, and (down) the home of JACOBUS. Front, to left and right, are corner-houses with projecting stories and casement windows. At the centre rear, a narrow street leads away between houses whose gables all but meet overhead.

It is late summer afternoon, with a holiday crowd. In the open casements, front (right and left, opposite each other), sit OLD URSULA and OLD CLAUS, looking on at men and things. —In the centre of the place now stands a rude wooden Ark with a tented top: and out of the openings (right and left) appear the artificial heads of animals, worn by the players inside. One is a Bear (inhabited by MICHAEL-THE-SWORD-EATER); one is a large Reynard-the-Fox, later apparent as the PIPER. Close by is the medieval piece of stage-property known as 'Hell-Mouth,' i.e. a red painted cave with a jaw-like opening into which a mountebank dressed in scarlet (CHEAT-THE-DEVIL) is poking 'Lost Souls' with a pitchfork.

BARBARA loiters by the tent. VERONIKA, the sad young wife of KURT, watches from the house steps, left, keeping her little lame boy, Jan, close beside her.

Shouts of delight greet the end of the show, a Noah's Ark miracle-play of the rudest; and the Children continue to scream with joy whenever an Animal looks out of the Ark.

Men and women pay scant attention either to JACOBUS, when he speaks (himself none too sober)—from his doorstep, prompted by the frowning KURT,—or yet to ANSELM, the priest, who stands forth with lifted hands, at the close of the miracle-play.

ANSELM
And you, who heed the colors of this show,
Look to your laughter!—It doth body forth
A Judgment that may take you unaware,—
Sun-struck with mirth, like unto chattering leaves
Some wind of wrath shall scourge to nothingness.

HANS, AXEL, AND OTHERS
Hurrah, Hurrah!

JACOBUS
  And now, good townsmen all,
Seeing we stand delivered and secure
As once yon chosen creatures of the Ark,
For a similitude,—our famine gone,
Our plague of rats and mice,—

CROWD
  Hurrah—hurrah!

JACOBUS
'Tis meet we render thanks more soberly—

HANS the Butcher
Soberly, soberly, ay!—

JACOBUS
  For our deliverance.
And now, ye wit, it will be full three days
Since we beheld—our late departed pest.—

OLD URSULA [putting out an ear-trumpet] What does he say?

REYNARD [from the Ark] —Oh, how felicitous!

HANS' WIFE
He's only saying there be no more rats.

JACOBUS
[with oratorical endeavor]
Three days it is; and not one mouse,—one mouse,
One mouse, I say!—No-o-o! Quiet. . . as a mouse.

[Resuming]
And now. . .

CROWD
  Long live Jacobus!—

JACOBUS
  You have seen
Noah and the Ark, most aptly happening by
With these same play-folk. You have marked the Judgment.
You all have seen the lost souls sent to—Hell—
And, nothing more to do.—

[KURT prompts him]
  Yes, yes.—And now. . .

[HANS the Butcher steps out of his group.]

HANS the Butcher
Hath no man seen the Piper?—Please your worships.

OTHERS
Ay, ay, so!
  —Ay, where is he?
    —Ho, the Piper!

JACOBUS
Piper, my good man?

HANS the Butcher
—He that charmed the rats!

OTHERS
Yes, yes,—that charmed the rats!

JACOBUS
[piously]
  Why, no man knows.—
Which proves him such a random instrument
As Heaven doth sometimes send us, to our use;
Or, as I do conceive, no man at all,—
A man of air; or, I would say—delusion.
He'll come no more.

REYNARD [from the Ark] Eh?—Oh, indeed, Meaow!

JACOBUS
'Tis clearest providence. The rats are gone.
The man is gone. And there is nought to pay,
Save peaceful worship.
[Pointing to the Minster.]

REYNARD [sarcastically] Oh, indeed,—Meaow! [Sudden chorus of derisive animal noises from the Ark, delighting PEOPLE and CHILDREN.]

KURT
Silence,—you strollers there! Or I will have you
Gaoled, one and all.

PEOPLE
  No, Kurt the Syndic, no!

BARBARA
[to Jacobus]
No; no! Ah, father, bid them stay awhile
And play it all again.—Or, if not all,
Do let us see that same good youth again,
Who swallowed swords—between the Ark Preserved
And the Last Judgment!

REYNARD
  Michael-the-Sword-Eater,
Laurels for thee!

[The BEAR disappears: MICHAEL puts out his own head, and gazes fixedly at BARBARA.

CHILDREN
Oh, can't we see the animals in the Ark?
Again? Oh, can't we see it all again?

ILSE
Oh, leave out Noah! And let's have only Bears
And Dromedaries, and the other ones!—

[General confusion.]

KURT
Silence!

JACOBUS
  Good people—you have had your shows;
And it is meet, that having held due feast,
Both with our market and this Miracle,
We bring our holiday to close with prayer
And public thanks unto Saint Willibald,—
Upon whose day the rats departed thence.

REYNARD [loudly] Saint Willibald!

BEAR
  —Saint Willibald!

OTHER ANIMALS
[looking out]
  ( Saint Willibald!
  ( Saint! Oh!

CROWD
Saint Willibald!—And what had he to do
With ridding us o' rats?

HANS the Butcher
  'T was the Piping Man
Who came and stood here in the market-place,
And swore to do it for one thousand guilders!

PETER the Cobbler
Ay, and he did it, too!—Saint Willibald!

[Renewed uproar round the tent.]

KURT
[to Jacobus]
Drive out those mountebanks! 'T is ever so.
Admit them to the town and you must pay
Their single show with riotings a week.—
Look yonder at your daughter.

[BARBARA lingers by the Ark-Tent, gazing with girlish interest at MICHAEL, who gazes at her, his bear-head in his band for the moment.]

JACOBUS
  Barbara!

[She turns back, with an angry glance at KURT.]

AXEL the Smith
[doggedly to them]
By your leave. Masters! I would like to know,
How did Saint Willibald prevail with the rats?—
That would I like to know. I, who ha' made
Of strong wrought traps, two hundred, thirty-nine,
Two hundred, thirty-nine.

REYNARD [calling] And so would I!

HANS the Butcher
So please your worships, may it please the Crier,
Now we be here,—to cry the Piping Man—

PETER the Cobbler
A stranger-man, gay-clad,—in divers colors!
Because he, with said piping—

HANS the Butcher
  —Drave away
The horde of rats!

PETER the Cobbler
[sagely]
  To our great benefit;
And we be all just men.

OTHERS
  Ay, ay!—Amen!

WOMEN
Amen, Our Lady and the blessed Saints!

JACOBUS
Why, faith, good souls, if ye will have him cried,
So be it.—But the ways of Heaven are strange!
Mark how our angel of deliverance came,—
Or it may be. Saint Willibald himself,—
Most piedly clothed, even as the vilest player!—
And straight ascended from us, to the clouds!
But cry him, if you will.—Peace to your lungs!—
He will not come.

[KURT wrathfully consults with JACOBUS, then signals to Crier.

CRIER
  Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!
Whereas, now three days gone, our Plague of Rats
Was wholly driven hence, our City cleansed,
Our peace restored after sore threat of famine,
By a Strange Man who came not back again,
Now, therefore, if this Man have ears to hear,
Let him stand forth.—Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!

[Trumpet.—PEOPLE gaze up and down the little streets.—REYNARD steps out of the Ark and comes down slowly, with a modest air.—KURT points him out, threateningly, and the CROWD bursts into derisive laughter.—He doffs his animal-head at leisure, showing a sparkling dark-eyed face.

ALL
The Man! the Man!

KURT AND JACOBUS
  The Devil!—'T is—

ALL —THE PIPER!

[The PIPER regards them all with debonair satisfaction; then reverses his head-piece and holds it out upside-down, with a confident smile.

PIPER
Three days of rest, your worships, you have had.
I see no signs of famine hereabout.
The rats are gone, even to the nethermost tail:
And I've fulfilled my bargain. Is it granted?

[Murmurs, then cheers of "Ay, Ay, PIPER!" from the crowd.

Thank 'ee.—My thousand guilders, an you please.

JACOBUS
One thou—Come, come! This was no sober bargain.—
No man in reason could—

PIPER
  One thousand guilders.

KURT
One thousand rogueries!

JACOBUS [to PIPER] You jest too far.

AXEL
Lucky, if he get aught!—Two hundred traps,
And nine, and thirty! By Saint Willibald,
When was I paid?

AXEL'S WIFE
  Say, now!

PIPER
  . . . One thousand guilders.

PETER the Cobbler
Give him an hundred.

HANS the Butcher
  Double!

HANS' WIFE
  You were fools
To make agreement with him.—Ask old Claus.
He has the guilders; and his house was full
0' rats!

OLD CLAUS
[shaking his stick from the window]
  You Jade! And I that hoard, and save,
And lay by all I have from year to year,
To build my monument when I am gone,
A fine new tomb there, in Saint Boniface!
And I to pay for all your city rats!

OLD URSULA
[leaning out, opposite]
Right, neighbor, right well said!—Piper, hark here.
Piper, how did ye charm the rats away?

PIPER
[coming down]
The rats were led—by Cu-ri-os-ity.
'Tis so with many rats; and all old women;—
Saving your health!

JACOBUS
  No thought for public weal,
In this base grasping on—

PIPER
  One thousand guilders.

KURT [contemptuously] For piping!

PIPER
  Shall I pipe them back again?

WOMEN
                 ( Good Saint Boniface!
Merciful heaven! ( Good Saint Willibald!
                 ( Peter and Paul defend us!

HANS the Butcher
No, no; no fear o' that. The rats be drowned.
We saw them with our eyes.

PIPER
  Now who shall say
There is no resurrection for a mouse?

KURT
—Do you but crop this fellow's ears!—

VERONIKA [from the steps] Ah, Kurt!

JACOBUS
[to him, blandly]
Deal patiently, good neighbor. All is well.
[To the PIPER]
Why do you name a price so laughable,
My man? Call you to mind; you have no claim,—
No scrip to show. You cling upon—

PIPER [sternly] Your word.

JACOBUS
I, would say—just—

PIPER
  Your word.

JACOBUS
  Upon—

PIPER
  Your word.
Sure, 't was a rotten parchment!

JACOBUS
  This is a base,
Conniving miser!

PIPER
[turning proudly]
Stand forth, Cheat-the-Devil!
[Up steps the DEVIL in red. PEOPLE shrink, and then come closer.
Be not afeard. He pleased you all, of late.
He hath no sting.—So, boy! Do off thy head.—

[CHEAT-THE-DEVIL doffs his red head-dress and stands forth, a pale and timorous youth, gentle and half-witted.

Michael, stand forth!
[MICHAEL comes down, bear-head in hand.

BARBARA [regarding him sadly] That goodly sword-eater!

PIPER
[defiantly]
So, Michael, so.—These be two friends of mine.
Pay now an even third to each of us.
Or, to content your doubts, to each of these
Do you pay here and now, five hundred guilders.
Who gets it matters little, for us friends.
But you will pay the sum, friend. You will pay!—

HANS, AXEL, AND CROWD
Come, there's an honest fellow. Ay, now, pay!
—There's a good friend.—And would I had the same.
—One thousand guilders?
  —No, too much.
    —No, no.

KURT
Pay jugglers?—With a rope apiece!

JACOBUS
  Why—so—

PIPER
They are my friends; and they shall share with me.
'T is time that Hamelin reckoned us for men;
—Hath ever dealt with us as we were vermin.
Now have I rid you of the other sort—
Right you that score!—

KURT
These outcasts!

PIPER
[hotly]
  Say you so?
Michael, my man! Which of you here will try
With glass or fire, with him?

MICHAEL [sullenly] No, no more glass, to-day!

PIPER
Then fire and sword!
[They back away.]
  So!—And there's not one man
In Hamelin, here, so honest of his word.
Stroller! A pretty choice you leave us.—Quit
This strolling life, or stroll into a cage!
What do you offer him? A man eats fire—
Swords, glass, young April frogs—

CHILDREN
  Do it again!
Do it again!

PIPER
You say to such a man,—
'Come be a monk! A weaver!' Pretty choice.
Here's Cheat-the-Devil, now.

PETER the Cobbler
But what's his name?

PIPER
He doesn't know. What would you? Nor do I.
But for the something he has seen of life,
Making men merry, he 'd know something more!
The gentlest devil ever spiked Lost Souls
Into Hell-mouth,—for nothing-by-the-day!

OLD URSULA [with her ear-trumpet] Piper, why do you call him Cheat-the-Devil?

PIPER
Because his deviltry is all a cheat:—
He is no devil,—but a gentle heart!
—Friend Michael here hath played the Devil, betimes,
Because he can so bravely breathe out fire.
He plied the pitchfork so we yelped for mercy,—
He reckoned not the stoutness of his arm!—
But Cheat-the-Devil here,—he would not hurt
Why—Kurt the Syndic—thrusting him in hell.
                              [Laughter.

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL [unhappily] No, no—I will not hurt him!

PIPER
[soothingly to him]
  Merry, boy!
[To the townsfolk]
And,—if ye will have reasons, good,—ye see,—
I want—one thousand guilders.

JACOBUS
 In all surety,
Payment you'll have, my man, But—

HANS the Butcher
  As to 's friends,—
An that yon Devil be as feat wi' his hands
As he be slow o' tongue, why, I will take him
For prentice. Wife,—now that would smack o' pride!

PETER the Cobbler
I'll take this fellow that can swallow fire,
He's somewhat old for me. But he can learn
My trade.—A pretty fellow!

PIPER
And your trade?

PETER the Cobbler
Peter the cobbler.—

MICHAEL
  I? What, I? Make shoes?
[Proudly]
I swallow fire.

PIPER
  Enough.

BARBARA [aside, bitterly] I'll not believe it.

PIPER [to HANS] Your trade?

HANS the Butcher
  I'm Hans the Butcher.

MICHAEL
  Butcher?

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
[unhappily]
  Butcher!
Oh, no! I couldn't hurt them.

[Loud laughter.

BUTCHER'S WIFE
'T is a fool!

[The PIPER motions to MICHAEL and CHEAT-THE-DEVIL, who during the following join the other player-folk, strike their tent, pack their bundles, and wheel off the bar rows that have served them for an Ark, leaving the space clear before the Shrine. Exeunt Strollers, all but MICHAEL, who hangs about, still gazing at BARBARA.

JACOBUS
Good people, we have wasted time enow.
You see this fellow, that he has no writ—

PIPER
Why not, then? 'T was a bargain. If your word
Hold only when 't is writ—

KURT
  We cannot spend
Clerkship on them that neither write nor read.
What good would parchment do thee?

JACOBUS
  My good man—

PIPER
Who says I cannot read?—Who says I cannot?

OLD CLAUS
Piper, don't tell me you can read in books!

PIPER [at bay] Books! Where's a book? Shew me a book, I say!

OLD URSULA
The Holy Book! Bring that—or he'll bewitch you.

PIPER
Oh, never fear. I charm but fools and children;
Now that the rats are gone.—Bring me a Book:
A big one!—

[Murmurs. The PIPER defiant. The crowd moves towards the Minster. Enter ANSELM the priest, with a little acolyte,—the two bearing a large illuminated Gospel-book. ANSELM, eyeing the PIPER gravely, opens the book, which the boy supports on his head and shoulders.

PIPER
Ho, 't is too heavy! Come, you cherub-head,
Here's too much laid upon one guardian angel!
[Beckons another small boy, and sets the book on their two backs.
Well?—well? What now?
[He looks in frank bewilderment at the eager crowd.

CROWD
  Read, read!

KURT
  He cannot read.

PIPER
[to ANSELM]
Turn—turn—there's nothing there.
[ANSELM turns pages. PIPER looks on blankly]
  . . . Ah, turn again!
The red one!—
[He takes his fife from his belt]
No, the green! The green one. So.
[Starts to pipe, looking on the book.]

CROWD
  ( Sure 't is a mad-man!
  ( But hear him piping!
  ( What is he doing?

PIPER [puzzled at their mirth] What the green one says.— [A burst of laughter from the crowd. JAN, the little lame boy on the steps, reaches his arms out suddenly and gives a cry of delight.

JAN
Oh, I love the Man!

[He goes, with his crutch, to the PIPER, who turns and gathers him close.

JACOBUS [to the People] Leave off this argument.

KURT
  Go in to Mass.

JACOBUS
Saint Willibald!

PIPER [in a rage] That Saint!—

KURT
Hence, wandering dog!

PIPER
Oho!—Well, every Saint may have his day.
But there are dog-days coming.—Eh, your worship?
[To ANSELM, suddenly]
You, there! You—Brother—Father—Uncle—You!
Speak! Will you let them in, to say their prayers
And mock me through their fingers?—Tell these men
To settle it, among their mouldy pockets,
Whether they keep their oath. Then will I go.

KURT [savagely] Away with you!—

ANSELM
  The Piper should be heard;
Ye know it well. Render to Caesar, therefore,
That which is Caesar's.

PIPER
  —Give the Devil his due!

JACOBUS [warily] We must take counsel over such a sum.

[Beckoning others, he and KURT go into the Rathaus, followed by all the men. Exit ANSELM with the Holy Book into the Minster.—The children play Mouse, to and fro, round about the PIPER.—The women, some of them, spin on the doorsteps, with little hand distaff's, or stand about, gossiping.

[The PIPER wipes his forehead and goes up slowly (centre) to drink from the fountain at the foot of the Shrine.—MICHAEL, like one in a dream, comes down towards BARBARA, who gazes back at him, fascinated, through her laughter.

BARBARA
Is it for pay you loiter, Master Player?
Were you not paid enough?

MICHAEL
  No.—One more look.

BARBARA
Here, then.—Still not enough?

MICHAEL

No! One more smile.

BARBARA [agitated ] Why would you have me smile?

MICHAEL [passionately] Oh, when you smiled, It was—it was like sunlight coming through Some window there, [Pointing to the Minster] —some vision of Our Lady. [She drops her flowers.—He picks them up and gives them back slowly.

BARBARA
Who are you? You are some one in disguise.

MICHAEL [bitterly] A man—that passes for a mountebank.

BARBARA [eagerly] I knew!

MICHAEL
  What then?

BARBARA
Thou art of noble birth.
'T is some disguise, this playing with the fire!

MICHAEL
Yes.—For to-day, I lord it with the fire.
But it hath burned me, here.
[Touching his breast.]
[Overcome for the moment, she draws away.—
The PIPER, coming down, speaks stealthily to MICHAEL,
who is still gazing.

PIPER
  For all our sakes!
There is bad weather breeding.—Take to thy heels.

[BARBARA turns back to see MICHAEL withdrawing reluctantly, and throws a rose to him with sudden gayety.

BARBARA
Farewell to you, Sword-Swallower!—farewell!

MICHAEL [looking back] Farewell to you, my Lady, in-the-Moon. [Exit. [JAN clings once more to the PIPER, while the other children hang about. VERONIKA calls to her boy, from the steps.

VERONIKA
Darling.—

PIPER [drawing nearer] Is this your Boy?

VERONIKA
  Ay, he is mine;
My only one. He loved thy piping so.

PIPER
And I loved his.

HANS' WIFE [stridently] Poor little boy! He's lame!

PIPER
'T is all of us are lame! But he, he flies.

VERONIKA
Jan, stay here if you will, and hear the pipe,
At Church-time.

PIPER [to him] Wilt thou?

JAN
[softly]
  Mother lets me stay
Here with the Lonely Man.

PIPER
  The Lonely Man?
[JAN points to the Christ in the Shrine. VERONIKA crosses herself.
The PIPER looks long at the little boy.

VERONIKA
He always calls Him so.

PIPER
  And so would I.

VERONIKA
It grieves him that the Head is always bowed,
And stricken. But he loves more to be here
Than yonder in the church.

PIPER
  And so do I.

VERONIKA
What would you, darling, with the Lonely Man?
What do you wait to see?

JAN [shyly] To see Him smile.

[The women murmur. The PIPER comes down further to speak to VERONIKA.

PIPER
You are some foreign woman. Are you not?
Never from Hamelin!

VERONIKA
  No.

AXEL'S WIFE
[to her child]
  Then run along.
And ask the Piper if he'll play again
The tune that charmed the rats.

ANOTHER
  They might come back!

OLD URSULA
[calling from her window]
Piper! I want the tune that charmed the rats!
If they come back, I'll have my grandson play it.

PIPER
I pipe but for the children.

ILSE
[dropping her doll and picking it up]
  Oh, do pipe
Something for Fridolin!

HANSEL
  Oh, pipe at me!
Now I'm a mouse! I'll eat you up! Rr—rr!—

CHILDREN
Oh, pipe! Oh, play! Oh, play and make us dance!
Oh, play, and make us run away from school!

PIPER
Why, what are these?

CHILDREN
[scampering round him]
  We're mice, we're mice, we're mice! . . .
We're mice, we're mice! We'll eat up everything!

MARTIN'S WIFE [calling] 'T is church-time. La, what will the neighbors say?

ILSE
[Waving her doll]
Oh, please do play something for Fridolin!

AXEL'S WIFE
Do hear the child. She's quite the little mother!

PIPER
A little mother? Ugh! How horrible.
That fairy thing, that princess,—no, that Child!
A little mother?
[To her]
  Drop the ugly thing!

MARTIN'S WIFE
Now, on my word! and what's amiss with mothers?
Are mothers horrible?
[The PIPER is struck with painful memories.]

PIPER
  No, no. But—care
And want and pain and age. . .
[Turns back to them with a bitter change of voice]
  And penny-wealth,—
And penny-counting.—Penny prides and fears—
Of what the neighbors say the neighbors say!—

MARTIN'S WIFE
And were you born without a mother, then?

ALL
Yes, you there! Ah, I told you! He's no man.
He's of the devil.

MARTIN'S WIFE
  Who was your mother, then?

PIPER
[fiercely]
Mine!—Nay, I do not know. For when I saw her,
She was a thing so trodden, lost and sad,
I cannot think that she was ever young,
Save in the cherishing voice.—She was a stroller;
My father was a stroller.—So, you have it!
And since she clave to him, and hunger too,
The Church's ban was on her.—Either live,
Mewed up forever,—she! to be a nun;
Or keep her life-long wandering with the wind;
The very name of wife stript from her troth.
That was my mother.—And she starved and sang;
And like the wind, she roved and lurked and shuddered
Outside your lighted windows, and fled by,
Storm-hunted, trying to outstrip the snow,
South, south, and homeless as a broken bird,—
Limping and hiding!—And she fled, and laughed,
And kept me warm; and died! To you, a Nothing;
Nothing, forever, oh, you well-housed mothers!
As always, always for the lighted windows
Of all the world, the Dark outside is nothing;
And all that limps and hides there in the dark;
Famishing,—broken,—lost!
  And I have sworn
For her sake and for all, that I will have
Some justice, all so late, for wretched men,
Out of these same smug towns that drive us forth
After the show!—Or scheme to cage us up
Out of the sunlight; like a squirrel's heart
Torn out and drying in the market-place.
My mother! Do you know what mothers are?—
Your children! Do you know them? Ah, not you!
There's not one here but it would follow me,
For all your bleating!

AXEL'S WIFE
  Kuno, come away!

[The children cling to him. He smiles down triumphantly.

PIPER
Oho, Oho! Look you?—You preach—I pipe!
[Reenter the men, with KURT and JACOBUS,
from the Rathaus, murmuring dubiously.
[The PIPER sets down JAN and stands forth, smiling.

JACOBUS
[smoothly]
H'm! My good man, we have faithfully debated
Whether your vision of so great a sum
Might be fulfilled,—as by some miracle.
But no. The moneys we administer
Will not allow it; nor the common weal.
Therefore, for your late service, here you have
Full fifteen guilders,
[Holding forth a purse]
  and a pretty sum
Indeed, for piping!

KURT [ominously] Take them!

JACOBUS
  Either that,
Or, to speak truly, nothing!
[The PIPER is motionless]
Come, come. Nay, count them, if you will.

KURT
  Time goes!

PIPER
Ay. And your oath?

KURT
No more; Enough.

[There is a sound of organ music from the Minster.]

VERONIKA [beseechingly] Ah, Kurt!

KURT
[savagely to the crowd]
What do ye, mewling of this fellow's rights?
He hath none!—Wit ye well, he is a stroller,
A wastrel, and the shadow of a man!
Ye waste the day and dally with the law.
Such have no rights; not in their life nor body!
We are in no wise bound. Nothing is his.
He may not carry arms; nor have redress
For any harm that men should put on him,
Saving to strike a shadow on the wall!
He is a Nothing, by the statute-book;
And, by the book, so let him live or die,
Like to a masterless dog!

[The PIPER stands motionless with head up-raised, not looking at KURT. The people, half-cowed, half-doubting, murmur and draw back. Lights appear in the Minster; the music continues. KURT and JACOBUS lead in the people. JACOBUS picks up the money-purse and takes it with him.

VOICES [laughing, drunkenly] One thousand guilders to a 'masterless dog'! [Others laugh too, pass by, with pity and derision for the PIPER, and echoes of 'MASTERLESS DOG!' Exeunt WOMEN and MEN to the Minster. Only the children are left, dancing round the motionless figure of the PIPER.

CHILDREN
Oh, pipe again! Oh, pipe and make us dance!
Oh, pipe and make us run away from school!
Oh, pipe and make believe we are the mice!

[He looks down at them. He looks up at the houses. Then he signs to them, with his finger on his lips; and begins, very softly, to pipe the Kinder-spell. The old CLAUS and URSULA in the windows seem to doze.

The children stop first, and look at him, fascinated; then they laugh, drowsily, and creep closer,—JAN always near. They crowd around him. He pipes louder, moving backwards, slowly, with magical gestures, towards the little by-streets and the closed doors. The doors open, everywhere.

Out come the children: little ones in night gowns; bigger ones, with playthings, toy animals, dolls. He pipes, gayer and louder. They pour in, right and left. Motion and music fill the air. The PIPER lifts JAN to his shoulder (dropping the little crutch) and marches off, up the street at the rear, piping, in the midst of them all.

Last, out of the Minster come tumbling two little acolytes in red, and after them, PETER the Sacristan. He trips over them in his amazement and terror; and they are gone after the vanishing children before the church-people come out.

The old folks lean from their windows.

OLD URSULA
The bell, the bell! the church bell! They're bewitched!

[Peter rushes to the bell-rope and pulls it. The bell sounds heavily. Reenter, from the church, the citizens by twos and threes and scores.

OLD URSULA
I told ye all,—I told ye!—Devils' bargains!
[The bell]
[KURT, JACOBUS, and the others appear.]

KURT
Peter the Sacristan! Give by the bell.
What means this clangor?

PETER the Sacristan
They're bewitched! bewitched!
[Still pulling and shouting.]

URSULA
They're gone!

KURT
  Thy wits!

OLD CLAUS
They're gone—they're gone—they're gone!

PETER the Sacristan
The children!

URSULA
—With the Piper! They're bewitched!
I told ye so.

OLD CLAUS
  —I saw it with these eyes!
He piped away the children.

[Horror in the crowd. They bring out lanterns and candles.
VERONIKA holds up the forgotten crutch'

VERONIKA
  Jan—my Jan!

KURT [to her] Thy boy! But mine, my three, all fair and straight.—

AXEL'S WIFE
[furiously to him]
'T was thy false bargain, thine; who would not pay
The Piper.—But we pay!

PETER the Sacristan
  Bewitched, bewitched!
The boys ran out—and I ran after them,
And something red did trip me—'t was the Devil.
The Devil!

OLD URSULA
  Ah, ring on, and crack the bell:
Ye'll never have them back.—I told ye so!

[The bell clangs incessantly]

Curtain

ACT II

SCENE I: Inside 'the Hollow Hill.'

A great, dim-lighted, cavernous place, which shows signs of masonry. It is part cavern and part cellarage of a ruined, burned-down and forgotten old monastery in the hills.—The only entrance (at the centre rear), a ramshackle wooden door, closes against a flight of rocky steps.—Light comes from an opening in the roof, and from the right, where a faggot-fire glows under an iron pot.—The scene reaches (right and left) into dim corners, where sleeping children lie curled up together like kittens.

By the fire sits the PIPER, on a tree-stump seat, stitching at a bit of red leather. At his feet is a row of bright-colored small shoes, set two and two. He looks up now and then, to recount the children, and goes back to work, with quizzical despair.

Left, sits a group of three forlorn Strollers. One nurses a lame knee; one, evidently dumb, talks in signs to the others; one is munching bread and cheese out of a wallet. All have the look of hunted and hungry men. They speak only in whispers to each other throughout the scene; but their hoarse laughter breaks out now and then over the bird-like ignorance of the children.

A shaft of sunlight steals through the hole in the roof. JAN, who lies nearest the PIPER, wakes up.

JAN
Oh!

[The PIPER turns]
Oh, I thought. . . I had a dream!

PIPER [softly] Ahe?

JAN
I thought. . . I dreamed. . . somebody wanted me.

PIPER
Soho!

JAN [earnestly] I thought. . . Somebody Wanted me.

PIPER
How then?
[With watchful tenderness.]

JAN
  I thought I heard Somebody crying.

PIPER
Pfui!—What a dream.—Don't make me cry again.

JAN
Oh, was it you?—Oh, yes!

PIPER [apart, tensely] No Michael yet!

[JAN begins to laugh softly, in a bewildered way; then grows quite happy and forgetful. While the other children waken, he reaches for the pipe and tries to blow upon it, to the PIPER'S amusement. ILSE and HANSEL, the Butcher's children, wake.

ILSE
Oh!

HANSEL
  —Oh!

PIPER
  Ahe?

ILSE
  I thought I had a dream.

PIPER
Again?

ILSE
. . . It was some lady, calling me.

HANSEL
Yes, and a fat man called us to come quick;
A fat man, he was crying—about me!
That same fat man I dreamt of, yesterday.

PIPER
Come, did you ever see a fat man cry,
About a little Boy?

[The Strollers are convulsed with hoarse mirth.

HANSEL
No,—Never.

ILSE
  Never!
Oh, what a funny dream!

[They giggle together.] [The PIPER silences the Strollers, with a gesture of warning towards the rocky door.

PIPER
[to himself]
'T is Hans the Butcher.
[To the Children]
  Well, what did he say?

HANSEL 'Come home, come home, come home!' But I didn't go. I don't know where. . . Oh, what a funny dream!

ILSE
Mine was a bad dream!—Mine was a lovely lady
And she was by the river, staring in.

PIPER
You were the little gold-fish, none could catch.
Oh, what a funny dream! . . .
[Apart, anxiously]
  No Michael yet.
[Aloud]
Come, bread and broth! Here—not all, three at a time;
'T is simpler. Here, you kittens. Eat awhile;
Then—

[RUDI wakes.]

RUDI
Oh! I had a dream,—an awful dream!

[The PIPER takes JAN on his knee and feeds him, after ladling out a big bowl of broth from the kettle for the Children, and giving them bread.

PIPER
Oh! oh! I had a dream!

CHILDREN
  Oh, tell it to us!

PIPER
I dreamed. . . a Stork. . . had nested in my hat.

CHILDREN
Oh!

PIPER
And when I woke—

CHILDREN
  You had—

PIPER
  One hundred children!

CHILDREN
Oh, it came true! Oh, oh; it all came true!

THE STROLLERS Ah, ho, ho, ho! [The dumb one rises, stretches, and steals toward the entrance, stopping to slip a blind-patch over one eye. The PIPER goes to him with one stride, seizing him by the shoulder.

PIPER
[to him, and the others, apart]
Look you.—No Michael yet!—And he is gone
Full three days now,—three days. If he be caught,
Why then,—the little ravens shall be fed!
[Groans from the three]
Enough that Cheat-the-Devil leaked out too;—
No foot but mine shall quit this fox-hole now!
And you,—think praise for once, you have no tongue,
And keep these magpies quiet. [Turns away.
[To himself]
  Ah, that girl.
The Burgomeister's Barbara! But for her,
And moon-struck Michael with his 'one more look'!
Where is he now?—And where are we?
[Turning back to the Children] So, so.

[The Strollers huddle together, with looks of renewed anxiety and wretchedness.—Their laughter at the Children breaks out forlornly now and then.—The PIPER shepherds the Children, but with watchful eyes and ears toward the entrance always. —His action grows more and more tense.

RUDI
[over his broth]
Oh, I remember now!—Before I woke. . .
Oh, what an awful dream!

ILSE
Oh, tell us, Rudi,—
Oh, scare us,—Rudi, scare us!—

RUDI [bursting into tears] . . . Lump was dead! Lump, Lump!— [The Children wail.

PIPER [distracted] Who's Lump?

RUDI
  Our Dog!

PIPER
[shocked and pained]
  The Dog!—No, no.
Heaven save us—I forgot about the dogs!

RUDI
He Wanted me;—and I always wasn't there!
And people tied him up,—and other people
Pretended that he bit.—He never bites!
He Wanted me, until it broke his heart,
And he was dead!

PIPER
[struggling with his emotion]
And then he went to heaven,
To chase the happy cats up all the trees;—
Little white cats! . . . He wears a golden collar . . .
And sometimes—[Aside]—I'd forgot about the dogs!
Well, dogs must suffer, so that men grow wise.
'T was ever so.

[He turns to give JAN a piping lesson]

CHILDREN

  Oh, what a funny dream!
[Suddenly he lifts his hand. They listen, and hear a dim sound of distant
chanting, going by on some neighboring road. The PIPER is puzzled; the
Strollers are plainly depressed.

JAN
What is it?

PIPER
  People; passing down below,
In the dark valley.
[He looks at the Children fixedly]
  Do you want to see them?

CHILDREN
Don't let them find us! What an ugly noise.—
No, no—don't let them come!

PIPER
Hark ye to me.
Some day I'll take you out with me to play;
High in the sun,—close to the water-fall . . . .
And we will make believe—We'll make believe
We're hiding
! . . .

[The Strollers rock with mirth.]

CHILDREN
  Yes, yes! Oh, let us make believe!

STROLLERS
Oho, ho, ho!—A make-believe!—Ho, ho!

PIPER
But, if you're good,—yes, very, very soon
I'll take you, as I promised,—

CHILDREN
  —Gypsies, oh!

PIPER
Yes, with the gypsies. We shall go at night,
With just a torch—
[Watching them.]

CHILDREN
  Oh!

PIPER
Like fire-flies! Will-o'-the-wisps!
And make believe we're hiding, all the way,
Till we come out into a sunny land,—
All vines and sunlight, yes, and men that sing!
Far, far away—forever.
[Gives ILSE a bowl to feed the other children]
[JAN pipes a measure of the Kinder-spell, brokenly. The PIPER turns.
  So! Thou'lt be
My master, some day. Thou shalt pipe for me.

JAN [piping] Oh, wasn't that one beautiful?—Now you!

PIPER
[taking the pipe]
  The rainbow-bridge by day;
     —And borrow a shepherd-crook!
  At night we take to the Milky Way;
    And then we follow the brook!

  We'll follow the brook, whatever way
  The brook shall sing, or the sun shall say,
    Or the mothering wood-dove coos!
  And what do I care, what else I wear,
    If I keep my rainbow shoes!

[He points to the little row of bright shoes. The Children scream with joy. ILSE and HANSEL run back.

CHILDREN
Oh dear! What lovely shoes! Oh, which are mine?
Oh! Oh!—What lovely shoes! Oh, which are mine?

PIPER
Try, till you see.
[Taking up a little red pair]
  But these,—these are for Jan.
[JAN is perched on the tree-stump, shy and silent with pleasure.

ILSE
Oh, those are best of all! And Jan—

PIPER
  And Jan
Is not to trudge, like you. Jan is to wear
Beautiful shoes, and shoes made most of all,
To look at!
[Takes up a pair of bird's wings.]

CHILDREN
[squealing]
  Oh! Where did you find the wings?
Bird's wings!

PIPER
  There was some hunter in the woods,
Who killed more birds than he could carry home.
He did not want these,—though the starling did,
But could not use them more! And so,—
[Fastening one to each heel]
  And so,—
They trim a little boy.
[Puts them on JAN. He is radiant. He stretches out his legs and pats
the feathers.

CHILDREN
[trying on theirs and capering]
  O Jan!—O Jan!
Oh! see my shoes!

[The PIPER looks at JAN.]

PIPER
Hey day, what now?

JAN
I wish. . .

PIPER
What do you wish? Wish for it!—It shall come.
[JAN pulls him closer and speaks shyly.]

JAN
I wish—that I could show them—to the Man,
The Lonely Man.
[The PIPER looks at him and backs away; sits down helplessly and looks
at him again.
Oh, can I?—

PIPER
Thou!—'T would make me a proud man.

JAN
Oh! it would make Him smile!

[The Children dance and caper. TRUDE wakes up and joins them. Sound of distant chanting again.

TRUDE
  I had a dream!

PIPER
A dream!
[Pretending to be amazed. Reflects, a moment]
  I know!—Oh, what a funny dream!
[The Children all fall a-laughing when he does.—Noise without.
Cheat-the-Devil's voice crying, 'Cuckoo—Cuckoo!'

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
Quick, quick!—I've something here.

[The others roll away a big stone, and enter by the wooden door (rear), CHEAT-THE-DEVIL. He does not wear his red hood. He has a garland round his neck, and a basket on his arm.

PIPER
[sharply to himself]
  No Michael yet!
[To CHEAT-THE-DEVIL]
Michael!—Where's Michael?

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
  Look you,—you must wait.
We must be cunning.—There's a squirrel, mark you,
Hopped after me! He would have found us out.
I wanted him; I loved him. But I ran.
For once a squirrel falls a-talking.—Ah!
Look what I have.—Guess, guess!
[Showing his basket to the Children.']

CHILDREN
  Cakes!
[He is sad]
  Shoes!
[He is sadder]
  Then—honey!
[He radiantly undoes his basket, and displays a honeycomb. The Strollers,
too, rush upon him.

PIPER
Ah, Cheat-the-Devil! They would crop your ears.
Where had you this?

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
  Why, such a kind old farmer!
He'd left his bee-hives; they were all alone;
And the bees know me. So I brought this for you;
I knew They 'd like it.—Oh, you're happy now!

PIPER
But Michael,—have they caught him?

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
  Oh, not they!
I heard no word of Michael; Michael's safe!
Once on the road I met a countryman,
Asked me the way. And not a word I spoke!
'Tis far the wisest. Twenty riddles he asked me.
I smiled and wagged my head. Anon cries he,
This Fool is deaf and dumb!'—That made me angry,
But still I spoke not.—And I would not hurt him!
He was a bad man. But I liked the mule.—
Now am I safe!—Now am I home at last!

PIPER
'St.—Met you any people on the way,
Singing?

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
  No, growling,—growling dreary psalms
All on a sunny day! Behind the hedges,
I saw them go. They go from Hamelin, now;
And I know why!—
[The PIPER beckons him away from the Children.
  The mayor's Barbara
Must go to Rudersheim, to be a Nun!

PIPER
To be a Nun!

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
A penance for them all.
She weeps; but she must go! All they, you see,
Are wroth against him.—He must give his child—

PIPER
A nun!

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
[nodding]
  Forever!—She, who smiled at Michael.
Look you, she weeps! They are bad people all;—
Nothing like these. [Looking at the Children.
  These are all beautiful.

PIPER
To lock her up! A maiden, shut away
Out of the light. To cage her there for life,
Cut off her hair; pretend that she is dead!—
Horrible, horrible! No, I'll not endure it.
I'll end this murder.—He shall give up his;
But never so!—Not so!—While I do live
To let things out of cages!—Tell me, quick!—
When shall it happen?

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
  Why, it falls to-day.
I saw two herds of people going by,
To be there well aforetime, for the sight.
And she is going last of all, at noon;
All sparkling, like a Bride.—I heard them tell.

PIPER
No, never, never!—No, it shall not be!
Hist!—

[Steps heard scrambling down the entrance-way. [Enter MICHAEL in mad haste. They rush upon him with exultation and relief. He shakes them off, doggedly.

PIPER
So!—You had like to have hanged us.

MICHAEL
  —What of that?

PIPER
All for a lily maiden.

MICHAEL
Ah,—thy pipe!
How will it save her?—Save her! Tune thy pipe
To compass that!—You do not know—

PIPER
  I know.
Tell me no more.—I say it shall not be!
To heel, lad! No, I follow,—none but I!
Go,—go! [MICHAEL rushes out again.
[To CHEAT-THE-DEVIL, pointing to the Children]
  Do you bide here and shepherd these.

CHILDREN
Where are you going?—Take us too!—us too!—
Oh, take us with you?—Take us!

PIPER
[distracted]
  No, no, no!
You shall be kittens all. And chase your tails,
Till I come back!—So here!

[Catches HANSEL and affixes to his little jacket a long strip of leather for a tail; then whirls him about.

CHILDREN
  Me too!—Me too!

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL
Let me make tails,—let me!
[Seizing shears and leather.]

PIPER
[wildly]
  Faith, and you shall.
A master tailor!—Come, here's food for thought.
Think all,—
[To the Strollers]
  And hold your tongues, there!—
  If a Cat—
If a Cat have—as all men say—Nine Lives,
And if Nine Tailors go to make a Man,
How long, then, shall it take one Man turned Tailor
To keep a Cat in Tails, until she die?
[CHEAT-THE-DEVIL looks subdued; the children whirl about.
But here's no game for Jan.—Stay! Something else.—
[He runs to a wooden coffer, rear, and takes out a long crystal on the
end of a string, with a glance at the shaft of sunlight from the roof.
The Children watch.

Be quiet, now.—Chase not your tails too far,
Till I come home again.

CHILDREN
Come home—come home!

PIPER
And you shall see my—

CHILDREN
  Something Beautiful!
Oh, oh, what is it?—Oh, and will it play?
Will it play music?

PIPER
Yes.
[He hangs the crystal in the sun. A Rainbow strikes the wall.
  —The best of all!

CHEAT-THE-DEVIL, JAN, CHILDREN
Oh, oh, how beautiful,—how beautiful!

PIPER
And hear it pipe and call, and dance, and sing.
Heja!—And hark you all. You have to mind—
The Rainbow!

[He climbs out, pipe in hand. The Children whirl about after their tails.—CHEAT-THE-DEVIL, and JAN on his tree-stump, open-mouthed with happiness, watch the Rainbow.

Curtain

SCENE II: The Cross-ways: on the Long Road to Rudersheim.

A wooded country: high hills at back. The place is wild and overgrown, like the haunted spot it is reputed to be. In the foreground, right, a ruined stone well appears, in a mass of weeds and vines. Opposite, left, tall trees and dense thickets. Where the roads cross (to left of centre), stands a large, neglected shrine, with a weather-worn figure of Christ,—again the 'Lonely Man'—facing towards Hamelin.—The stage is empty, at rise of the curtain; but the sound of chanting from burghers just gone by fades slowly, on the road to Rudersheim.

From the hillside at the rear comes the PIPER, wrapped in a long green cloak, his pipe in his hand. He looks after the procession, and back to Hamelin.—Enter, springing from the bushes to the right, MICHAEL, who seizes him.

Their speech goes breathlessly.

MICHAEL

QUICK!—tell me—

PIPER
  Patience.

MICHAEL
  Patience?—Death and hell!
Oh, save her—save her! Give the children back.

PIPER
Never. Have you betrayed us?

MICHAEL
  I!—betrayed?

PIPER
So, so, lad.

MICHAEL
  But to save her—

PIPER
  There's a way,—
Trust me! I save her, or we swing together
Merrily, in a row.—How did you see her?

MICHAEL
By stealth: two days ago, at evening,
Hard by the vine-hid wall of her own garden,
I made a warbling like a nightingale;
And she came out to hear.

PIPER
  A serenade!
Under the halter!

MICHAEL
  Hush.—A death-black night,
Until she came.—Oh, how to tell thee, lad!
She came,—she came, not for the nightingale,
But even dreaming that it would be I!

PIPER
She knew you?—We are trapped, then.

MICHAEL
  No, not so!
She smiled on me.—Dost thou remember how
She smiled on me that day? Alas, poor maid,
She took me for some noble in disguise!
And all these days,—she told me,—she had dreamed
That I would come to save her!

PIPER
  Said she this?

MICHAEL
All this—all this, and more! . . .
What could lies do?—I lied to her of thee;
I swore I knew not of thy vanishment,
Nor the lost children. But I told her true,
I was a stroller and an outcast man
That hid there, like a famished castaway,
For one more word, without a hope,—a hope;
Helpless to save her.

PIPER
  And she told thee then,
She goes to be a nun?

MICHAEL
  Youth to the grave!
And I—vile nothing—cannot go to save her,
Only to look my last—

PIPER
  Who knows?

MICHAEL [bitterly] Ah, thou!—

PIPER
Poor Nightingale!
[Fingers Us pipe, noiselessly.]

MICHAEL [rapt with grief] Oh, but the scorn of her!

PIPER
She smiled on thee.

MICHAEL
  Until she heard the truth:—
A juggler,—truly,—and no wandering knight!
Oh, and she wept.
[Wildly]
  Let us all hang together.

PIPER
Thanks. Kindly spoken.—Not this afternoon!

MICHAEL
Thou knowest they are given up for dead?

PIPER
Truly.

MICHAEL
  Bewitched?

PIPER
  So are they.

MICHAEL
  Sold to the Devil?

PIPER
[Facing softly up and down, with the restless cunning
of a squirrel at watch]
Pfui! But who else? Of course. This same old Devil!
This kind old Devil takes on him all we do!
Who else is such a refuge in this world?
Who could have burned the abbey in this place,
Where holy men did live? Why, 't was the Devil!
And who did guard us one secluded spot
By burying a wizard at this cross-ways?—
So none dare search the haunted, evil place!
The Devil for a landlord!—So say I!
And all we poor, we strollers, for his tenants;
We gypsies and we pipers in the world,
And a few hermits and sword-swallowers,
And all the cast-aways that Holy Church
Must put in cages—cages—to the end!
[To Michael, who is overcome]
Take heart! I swear,—by all the stars that chime!
I'll not have things in Cages!

MICHAEL
  Barbara!
So young,—so young and beautiful!

PIPER
  And fit
To marry with friend Michael!

MICHAEL
  Do not mock.

PIPER
I mock not.—(Baa—Baa—Barbara!)

MICHAEL
  Ay, she laughed,
On that first day. But still she gazed.—I saw
Her, all the while! I swallowed—

PIPER
  Prodigies!
A thousand swallows, and no summer yet!
But now,—'t is late to ask,—why did you not
Swallow her father?—That had saved us all.

MICHAEL
They will be coming soon. They will cut off
All her bright hair,—and wall her in forever.

PIPER
Never. They shall not.

MICHAEL [dully] Will you give them back, Now?

PIPER
I will never give them back. Be sure.

MICHAEL
And she is made an offering for the town!
I heard it of the gossips.—They have sworn
Jacobus shall not keep his one ewe-lamb
While all the rest go childless.

PIPER
  And I swear
That he shall give her up,—to none but thee!

MICHAEL
You cannot do it!

PIPER
  Have I lived like Cain,
But to make good one hour of Life and Sun?
And have I got this Hamelin in my hands,
To make it pay its thousand cruelties
With such a fool's one-more? . . .
—You know right well,
'T was not the thousand guilders that I wanted
For thee, or me, or any!—Ten would serve.
But there it ached; there, in the money-bag
That serves the town of Hamelin for an heart!
That stab was mortal! And I thrust it deep.
Life, life, I wanted; safety,—sun and wind!—
And but to show them how that daily fear
They call their faith, is made of blasphemies
That would put out the Sun and Moon and Stars,
Early, for some last Judgment!
[He laughs, up to the tree-tops]
  And the Lord,
Where will He get His harpers and singing-men
And them that laugh for joy?—From Hamelin guilds?—
Will you imagine Kurt the Councillor
Trying to sing?
[He looks at his pipe again; then listens intently.

MICHAEL
  His lean throat freeze!—But she—
Barbara! Barbara!—

PIPER
  Patience. She will come,
Dressed like a bride.

MICHAEL
  Ah, do not mock me so.

PIPER
I mock not.

MICHAEL
She will never look at me.

PIPER
Rather than be a nun, I swear she will
Look at thee twice,—and with a long, long look.
[Chant approaches in the distance, coming from Hamelin.

VOICES
Dies irae, dies illa
Solvet saeclum in favilla,
Teste David cum Sibylla.

Quantus tremor est futurus,
Quando judex est venturus,
Cuncta stricte discussurus!

PIPER
Bah, how they whine! Why do they drag it so?

MICHAEL
[overcome]
Oh, can it be the last of all? O Saints!—
O blessed Francis, Ursula, Catherine!
Hubert—and Crispin—Pantaleone—Paul!
George o' the Dragon!—Michael the Archangel!

PIPER
Michael Sword-eater, canst not swallow a chant?
The well, the well!—Take care.

VOICES
[nearer]
  Inter oves locum praesta,
  Et ab hoedis me sequestra,
  Statuens in parte dextra.

  Confutatis maledictis,
  Flammis acribus addictis:
  Voca me cum benedictis.

[MICHAEL climbs down the ancient well, reaching his head up warily, to see.

The PIPER waves to him debonairly, points to the tree-tops, left, and stands a moment showing in his face his disapproval of the music. He fingers his pipe. As the hymn draws near, he scrambles among the bushes, left, and disappears.

Enter slowly, chanting, the company of burghers from Hamelin,—men together first, headed by priests; then the women.—ANSELM and all the townsfolk appear (saving VERONIKA, the wife of KURT); JACOBUS is meek; KURT very stern.—As they appear, the piping of the Dance-spell begins softly, high in air. The hymn wavers; when the first burghers reach the centre of the stage, it breaks down.

They look up, bewildered: then, with every sign of consternation, struggle, and vacant fear, they begin to dance, willy-nilly. Their faces work; they struggle to walk on; but it is useless. The music whirls them irresistibly into a rhythmic pace of 3/4 time, and jogs their words, when they try to speak, into the same dance-measure. One by one,—two and two they go,—round and round like corks at first, with every sign of struggle and protest, then off, on the long road to Rudersheim. Fat priests waltz together.—KURT the fierce and JACOBUS the sleek hug each other in frantic endeavor to be released. Their words jolt insanely.

KURT, JACOBUS

  ( No, no.—No, no—No, no.—No, no!
  ( Yes, yes.—I, yes.—Yes, yes.—Yes, yes!

SOME
  ( La—crymos—a—Dies—ill—
  ( Bewitched—the Devil!—bewitched—bewitched!
  ( I will not—will not—will—I will!
  ( No, no—but where!—Help—help!—To arms!

OTHERS
  ( Suppli—canti—suppli—Oh!
  ( To Hamelln—back—to Hamelln—stay!
  ( No, no!—No, no,—Away,—away!
[They dance out, convulsively, towards Rudersheim.
KURT and JACOBUS, still whirling, cry,—

JACOBUS, KURT
  ( Yes, yes!—yes, yes!—Let go—let go—
  ( No, no!—I will not—No! . . . No

[Exeunt left, dancing.

OTHERS
  ( Keep time, keep time! Have mercy!—Time!
  ( Oh, let me—go!—Let go—let go!
  ( Yes, yes—Yes, yes—No, no—no—no!

[BARBARA appears, pale and beautiful;—richly dressed in white, with flowing locks. She is wan and exhausted.—The dance-mania, as it seizes her, makes her circle slowly and dazedly with a certain pitiful silliness. The nuns and monks accompanying her point in horror. But they, too, dance off with each other, willy-nilly,—like leaves in a tempest. BARBARA is left alone, still circling slowly. The piping sounds softer. She staggers against a tree, and keeps on waving her hands and turning her head, vaguely, in time.

MICHAEL looks forth from the well; then climbs out and approaches her.

MICHAEL

She is so beautiful,—how dare, I tell her?
My heart, how beautiful! The blessed saint! . . .
Fear nothing, fairest Lady.—You are saved.
[She looks at him unseeingly, and continues to dance.—He holds
out his arms to stop her.
Pray you, the danger's gone. Pray you, take breath!
Poor, shining dove,—I would not hold thee here,
Against thy wish.—'Tis Michael, the sword-eater.
[The piping ceases.]

BARBARA
[murmuring]
Yes, yes—I must—I must—I must. . .
[Reenter the PIPER from the thickets.]

MICHAEL
Look, I will guard you like a princess, here;
Yes, like Our Lady's rose-vine.

BARBARA
[gasping]
  Ah, my heart!
[The PIPER comes towards her. She sees him and holds out
her arms, crying:—
Oh, he has saved me!—I am thine—thine—thine!
[Falls into his arms half-fainting. The PIPER
stands amazed, alarmed, chagrined.

PIPER
Mine?

MICHAEL
[furiously]
Thine?—So was it? All a trap? Cock's blood!
Thine, thine!—And thou hast piped her wits away.
Thine!

PIPER [holding her off] No, not mine!

BARBARA
[to him]
Why did you steal me hence?
When did you love me?—Was it on first sight?

PIPER [confounded] I, love thee?

MICHAEL
  —Knave! thief! liar!

PIPER
  —Give me breath.
[Holds off BARBARA gently.]

BARBARA
Where are you taking me?

PIPER
  I? Taking thee?

MICHAEL [to her] He shall not steal thee!

BARBARA [in a daze] I must follow him.

PIPER
No! 'T is too much. You shall not follow me!
I'll not be followed.—Damsel, sit you down.
Here is too much! I love you not.

BARBARA
[wonderingly]
  You do not?
Why did you pipe to me?

MICHAEL
  —And steal her wits,
Stealer of all the children!

BARBARA [vaguely] Are they safe?

PIPER
[to MICHAEL]
Oh, your good faith!—
[To her]
  They're safe.

BARBARA
  I knew—I knew it!

PIPER
And so art thou. But never shall they go
To Hamelin more; and never shale thou go
To be a nun.

BARBARA
To be a nun,—no, no! Ah me, I'm spent.
Sir, take me with you.

MICHAEL
[still enraged to the PIPES]
  Rid her of the spell!
Is this thy pledge?

PIPER
[distracted]
  I do but rub my wits—
To think—to think.
[To himself]
  What shall I do with her,
Now that she's here!—Suppose her bound to stay!
[To them]
Hearken.—You, Michael, on to Rudersheim—

MICHAEL
And leave her here? No, no!

PIPER
  Then take the girl.

BARBARA
To Rudersheim? No, never, never!

PIPER
  Well . . .
Hearken.—There is the hermit, over the hill.
[Apart, wildly]
But how—suppose she will not marry him?
I will not take her where the children are.
And yet—
[An idea strikes him. To her]
Hark, now;—hark, now, and tell me truly;
Can you spin cloth?

BARBARA [amazed] I? Spin?

PIPER [eagerly] Can you make shoes?

BARBARA
I—I make shoes!—Fellow!

PIPER
  So.

MICHAEL
  Art thou mad!

PIPER
With me you may not go! But you'll be safe.
Hearken:—you, Michael, go to Rudersheim;
And tell the nuns—

BARBARA
  No, no! I dare not have it!
Oh, they would send and take me! No, no, no!

PIPER
Would you go back to Hamelin?

BARBARA No—no—no! Ah, I am spent. [Droops towards the PIPER; falters and sinks down on the bank beside the well, in a swoon.—The PIPER is abashed and rueful for the moment.

MICHAEL
All this, your work!

PIPER
[looking at her closely]
  Not mine.
This is no charm. It is all youth and grief,
And weariness. And she shall follow you.—
Tell the good nuns you found her sore bewitched,
Here in this haunt of 'devils';—clean distraught.
No Church could so receive a dancing nun!
Tell them thou art an honest, piteous man
Desires to marry her.

MICHAEL
  Marry the Moon!

PIPER
No, no, the Moon for me!—She shall be yours;
And here she sleeps, until her wits be sound.
[He spreads his cloak over her, gently]
The sun's still high. 'T is barely afternoon.—
[Looks at the sunshine. A thought strikes him with sudden dismay]
'T is—no, the time is going!—On my life,
I had forgot Them!—And They will not stay
After the Rainbow fades.

MICHAEL [confounded] Art thou moon-mad?

PIPER
[madly]
No. Stir not! Keep her safe! I come anon.
But first I go.—They'll not mind Cheat-the-Devil!
They'll creep, to find out where the Rainbow went.
I know them! So would I!—They'll all leak out!

MICHAEL
Stay—stay!

PIPER
  No; guard her, you!—Anon, anon!

MICHAEL
But you will pipe her up and after you!

PIPER
[flinging him the pipe from his belt]
Do you fear this? Then keep it till I come.
You bide!—The Other cannot.

MICHAEL
Who?

PIPER
  The Rainbow,
The Rainbow!—

[He runs madly up the hillside, and away.]

Curtain

ACT III

SCENE: The same, later. BARBARA lies motionless, still sleeping.—MICHAEL, sitting on the bank opposite, fingers the pipe with awe and wistfulness. He blows softly upon it; then looks at the girl hopefully. She does not stir.

Enter the PIPER, from the hills at back. He carries a pair of water-jars slung over his shoulders, and seems to be in high feather.

PIPER
[singing]
Out of your cage,
Come out of your cage
And take your soul on a pilgrimage!
Pease in your shoes, an if you must!—
But out and away, before you're dust:
  Scribe and Stay-at-home,
  Saint and Sage,
  Out of your cage,
  Out of your cage!—
[He feigns to be terror-struck at sight of the pipe
in Michael's hands]
Ho, help! Good Michael, Michael, loose the charm!
Michael, have mercy! I'm bewitched!—

MICHAEL
[giving him the pipe]
  Cock's faith!
Still mocking!—Well ye know, it will not play
Such games for me.

PIPER
  Be soothed,—'twas as I guessed,
[Unslings the jars]
All of them hungry,—and the Rainbow going;—

And Cheat-the-Devil pining in a corner.
'Twas well I went: they were for leaking out,
And then,—lopped ears for two!

MICHAEL
  Oh, that will come.

PIPER
Never believe it! We have saved her, look you;
We save them all! No prison walls again,
For anything so young, in Hamelin there.
Wake her, and see.

MICHAEL
  Ay, wake her. But for me,
Her sleep is gentler.

PIPER
[comfortingly]
  Nay, but wait.—Good faith,
Wait. We have broke the bars of iron now;
Still there are golden!—'Tis her very self
Is caged within herself. Once coax her out,
Once set her own heart free!—

MICHAEL
  Wake her, and see!
[The PIPER crosses, humming.]

PIPER
Mind your eyes, tune your tongue!
Let it never be said, but sung, but sung,
  'Out of your cage, out of your cage!'
  Maiden, maiden,—
[He wakes her gently. BARBARA sits up, plainly bewildered;
then she sees the PIPER, and says happily:—

BARBARA
Oh!—you have come to save me. They are gone.
All this, for love of me!

PIPER [ruefully] No, no—I—No!

BARBARA
You—you are robbers?
[Her hands go to the pearls about her neck.]

PIPER
[indignant]
  No! Blood on the Moon!
This is the maddest world I ever blinked at.—
Fear nothing, maiden. I will tell you all.
Come, sit you down; and Michael shall keep watch
From yonder hillock, lest that any pass.
Fear nothing. None will pass: they are too sure
The Devil hath this cross-ways!—Sit you down.

[MICHAEL watches, with jealous wistfulness, from the road (left rear).—BARBARA half fearfully sits up, on the bank by the well.

BARBARA
Not love? And yet . . . you do not want my pearls?
Then why—

PIPER
  For why should all be love or money?
Money! Oho,—that mouldy thousand guilders
You think of!—But it was your Hamelin friends
That loved the guilders, and not I.

BARBARA
  Then why—
Why did you steal me hence?

PIPER
  Why did yourself
Long to be stolen?

BARBARA
[shuddering]
  Ah! to be shut up. . .
Forever,—young—alive!

PIPER
  Alive and singing;
Young,—young;—and four thick walls and no more sun,
No music, and no wandering, and no life!
Think you, I would not steal ail things alive
Out of such doom?—How can I breathe and laugh
While there are things in cages?—You are free;
And you shall never more go back again.

BARBARA
And you, who are you then?

PIPER
  How do I know?
Moths in the Moon!—Ask me a thing in reason.

BARBARA
And 't was not . . . that you loved me.

PIPER
  Loved thee? No!—
Save but along with squirrels, and bright fish,
And bubbling water.

BARBARA
Then where shall I go?

PIPER
Oh, little bird,—is that your only song?
Go? Everywhere! Here be no walls, no hedges,
No tolls, no taxes,—rats nor aldermen!
Go, say you? Round the world, and round again!
[Apart]
—Ah, she was Hamelin-born.
[He watches her]
  But there's a man,—
Sky-true, sword-strong, and brave to look upon;
One that would thrust his hand in dragon's mouth
For your bright sake; one that would face the Devil,
Would swallow fire—

BARBARA
  You would?

PIPER [desperately] I?—No, not I! Michael,—yon goodman Michael.

BARBARA [bitterly] A stroller!—-oh, nought but a wandering man.

PIPER,
Well, would you have a man take root, I ask?

BARBARA
That swallows swords. . . .

PIPER
  Is he a comely man?

BARBARA
That swallows swords!—

PIPER
  What's manlier to swallow?
Did he but swallow pancakes, were that praise?
Pancakes and sausage, like your Hamelin yokels?
He swallows fire and swords, I say, and more.
And yet this man hath for a whole noon-hour
Guarded you while you slept;—still as a dove,
Distant and kind as shadow; giant-strong
For his enchanted princess,—even you.

BARBARA
So you bewitched me, then.

PIPER [wildly] How do I know?

BARBARA
Where are the children?

PIPER
  I'll not tell you that.
You are too much of Hamelin.

BARBARA
  You bewitched them!

PIPER
Yes, so it seems. But how?—Upon my life,
'T is more than I know,—yes, a little more.
[Rapidly: half in earnest and half in whimsy]
Sometimes it works, and sometimes no. There are
Some things upon my soul, I cannot do.
[Watching her.]

BARBARA [expectantly] Not even with thy pipe?

PIPER
  Not even so.
Some are too hard.—Yet, yet, I love to try:
And most, to try with all the hidden charms
I have, that I have never counted through.

BARBARA [fascinated] Where are they?

PIPER [touching his heart] Here.

BARBARA
What are they?

PIPER
  How do I know?
If I knew all, why should I care to live?
No, no! The game is What-Will-Happen-Next?

BARBARA
And what will happen?

PIPER
[tantalizingly]
  Ah! how do I know?
It keeps me searching. 'T is so glad and sad
And strange to find out, What-Will-Happen-Next!
And mark you this: the strangest miracle. . .

BARBARA
Yes!—

PIPER
Stranger than the Devil or thy Judgment;
Stranger than piping,—even when I pipe!
Stranger than charming mice—or even men—

BARBARA [with tense expectancy] What is it? What?

PIPER
[watching her]
  Why,—what may come to pass
Here in the heart. There is one very charm—

BARBARA
Oh!

PIPER
Are you brave?

BARBARA [awe-struck] Oh!

PIPER [slowly] Will you drink the philter?

BARBARA
'Tis. . . some enchantment?

PIPER [mysteriously] 'T is a love philter.

BARBARA
Oh, tell me first—

PIPER
  Why, sooth, the only charm
In it, is Love. It is clear well-water.

BARBARA [disappointed] Only well-water?

PIPER Love is only Love. It must be philters, then? [He comes down smiling and beckons to MICHAEL, who draws near, bewildered. This lady thirsts For magic! [He ties a long green scarf that he has over his shoulder, to a water-jar, and lowers it down the old well; while BARBARA watches, awe-struck. He continues to sing softly. Mind your eyes, Tune your tongue; Let it never he said, But sung,—but sung!—

MICHAEL
[to BARBARA, timidly]
  I am glad at least, fair lady,
To think how my poor show did give you pleasure
That day—that day when—

BARBARA
  Ah! that day of doom!

MICHAEL
What is your will?

BARBARA
[passionately]
  I know not; and I care not!
[Apart]
Oh, it is true.—And he a sword-eater!
[The PIPER hauls up the jar, full of water.]

PIPER
Michael, your cup.

[MICHAEL gives him a drinking-horn from his belt. The PIPER fills it
with water, solemnly, and turns to BARBARA, who is at first defiant,
then fascinated.
  Maiden, your ears. So:—hearken.
Before you drink of this, is it your will
Forever to be gone from Hamelin?

BARBARA
I must,—I must.

PIPER
Your mother?

BARBARA
[piteously]
  I have no mother;
Nor any father, more. He gave me up.

PIPER
That did he!—For a round one thousand guilders!
Weep not, I say. First, loose you, heart and shoes,
From Hamelin. Put off now, the dust, the mould,
The cobble-stones, the little prying windows;
The streets that dream o' What the Neighbors Say.
Think you were never born there. Think some Breath
Wakened you early—early on one morning,
Deep in a Garden (but you knew not whose),
Where voices of wild waters bubbling ran,
Shaking down music from glad mountain-tops,—
Where the still peaks were burning in the dawn,
Like fiery snow,—down into greenest valleys,
That do off their blue mist only to show
Some deeper blue, some haunt of violets.
No voice you heard, nothing you felt or saw,
Save in your heart, the tumult of young birds,
A nestful of wet wings and morning-cries,
Throbbing for flight! . . .
Then,—for your Soul, new wakened, felt athirst,
You turned to where that call of water led,
Laughing for truth,—all truth and star-like laughter!
Beautiful water, that will never stay,
But runs and laughs and sparkles in the heart,
And sends live laughter trickling everywhere,
And knows the thousand longings of the Earth!
And as you drank it then, so now, drink here;

[He reaches her the horn. She has listened, motionless, like a thing bewitched, her eyes fixed and wide, as if she were sleep-walking. She drinks. MICHAEL stands near, also motionless. When she speaks, it is in a younger voice, shy, sweet and full of wonder.

And tell me,—tell me, you,—what happened then?
What do you see?

BARBARA
Ah!—
[She looks before her with wide, new eyes.]

PIPER
  Do you see—a—

BARBARA
  . . .Michael!

PIPER
So!—And a good one. And you call him?

BARBARA
  . . . Michael.

PIPER
So.—'Tis a world of wonders, by my faith!—
What is the fairest thing you see but—

BARBARA
  Michael.

PIPER
And is he comely as a man should be?
And strong?—And wears good promise in his eyes,
And keeps it with his heart and with his hands?
[She nods like a child]
And would you fear to go with him?—

BARBARA
  No, no!

PIPER
Then reach to him that little hand of yours.

[MICHAEL, wonder-struck, runs to the jar, pours water upon his hand, rubs it off with haste, and falls on his knees before her, taking her hand fearfully.

BARBARA [timidly] And can he talk?—

PIPER
Yes, yes.—The maid's bewildered.
Fear nothing. Thou'rt so dumb, man!—Yes, yes, yes.
Only he kneels; he cannot yet believe.
Speak roundly to him.—Will you go with him?
He will be gentler to you than a father:
He would be brothers five, and dearest friend,
And sweetheart,—ay, and knight and serving-man!

BARBARA
Yes, yes, I know he will. And can he talk, too?

PIPER
Lady, you have bewitched him.

MICHAEL
  Oh! dear Lady,
With you—with you, I dare not ope my mouth
Saving to sing, or pray!

PIPER
  Let it be singing!
Lad, 't is a wildered maiden, with no home
Save only thee; and she is more a child
Than yesterday.

MICHAEL
  Oh, lordly, wondrous world!—
How is it, Sweet, you smile upon me now?

BARBARA
Sure I have ever smiled on thee. How not?
Art thou not Michael?—And thou lovest me.
And I love thee!—If I unloved thee ever,
It was some spell.—
[Rapturously]
  But this,—ah, This is I!
[MICHAEL, on his knees, winds his arms about her.

PIPER
[softly]
It is all true,—all true. Lad, do not doubt;
The golden cage is broken.

MICHAEL
  Oh! more strange
Than morning dreams! I am like one new-born;
I am a speechless babe.—And this is she,
My Moon I cried for,—here,—

PIPER
  It is thy bride.

MICHAEL
Thou wilt not fear to come with me?

BARBARA
With thee?
With thee! Ah, look! What have I more than thee?
And thou art mine, tall fellow! How comes it now
Right happily that I am pranked so fair!
[She touches her fineries, her long pearl-strings, joyously]
And all this came so near to burying;
This!

MICHAEL
  And this dearer gold.
[Kissing her hair.]

BARBARA
  All, all for thee!—
[She leans over in a playful rapture and
binds her hair about him]
Look,—I will be thy garden that we lost,
Yea, everywhere,—in every wilderness.
There shall none fright us with a flaming sword!
But I will be thy garden!

[There is the sound of a herd-bell approaching.

PIPER
See,—how the sunlight soon shall pour red wine
To make your marriage-feast!—And do you hear
That faery bell?—No fear!—'T is some white creature,
Seeking her whiter lamb.—Go; find our hermit;
And he shall bless you,—as a hermit can!
And be your pledge for shelter. There's the path.—
[To MICHAEL]
Follow each other, close!

MICHAEL
  Beyond the Sun!

PIPER
A golden afternoon,—and all is well!

[He gives MICHAEL his cloak to wrap round BARBARA. They go, hand in hand, up into the hills, The herd-bell sounds softly.—The PIPER cocks his head like a squirrel, and listens with delight. He watches the two till they disappear; then comes down joyously.

PIPER
If you can only catch them while they're young!

[The herd-bell sounds nearer. He lets down a water-jar into the well again. The nearness of the hell startles him. He becomes watchful as a wild creature. It sounds nearer and nearer. A woman's voice calls like the wind: 'Jan! Jan!'— The PIPER, tense and cautious, moves softly down into the shrubbery by the well.

VERONIKA'S VOICE
Jan!

PIPER
  Hist! Who dared?

VERONIKA'S VOICE
. . . Jan!—

PIPER
  Who dared, I say?
A woman.—'T is a woman!

[Enter VERONIKA, on the road from Hamelin. She is very pale and worn, and drags herself along, clutching in her hand a herd-bell. She looks about her, holds up the bell and shakes it once softly, covering it with her fingers again; then she sits wearily down at the foot of the ruined shrine and covers her face, with a sharp breath.

VERONIKA
  . . . Ah,—ah,—ah!
[The PIPER watches with breathless wonder and fascination. It seems
to horrify him.

PIPER [under breath] That woman!

[VERONIKA lifts her head suddenly and sees the motion of the bushes.

VERONIKA
He is coming!—He is here!
[She darts towards the well.—The PIPER springs up.
Oh, God of Mercy! . . . It is only you!
Where is he?—Where?—Where are you hiding him?

PIPER
[confusedly]
Woman . . . what do you, wandering, with that bell?
That herd-bell?

VERONIKA
Oh! are you man or cloud? . . . Where is my Jan?
Jan,—Jan,—the little lame one! He is mine.
He lives, I know he lives. I know—yes, yes,
You've hidden him. I will be patient.—Yes.

PIPER
Surely he lives!

VERONIKA
  —Lives! will you swear it? Ah,—
I will believe! But he . . . is not so strong
As all the others.

PIPER
[apart]
  Aie, how horrible!
[To her]
Sit you down here. You cannot go away
While you are yet so pale. Why are you thus?
[She looks at him distractedly.]

VERONIKA
You, who have torn the hearts out of our bodies
And left the city like a place of graves,—
Why am I spent?—Ah, ah!—But he's alive!
Yes, yes, he's living.

PIPER
  Oh, how horrible!
Why should he not be living?—What am I?

VERONIKA
I do not know.

PIPER
  Do you take me for the Devil?

VERONIKA
I do not know.

PIPER
  Yet you were not afraid?

VERONIKA
What is there now to fear?

PIPER [watching her] Where are the townsfolk?

VERONIKA
They are all gone to Rudersheim. . .

PIPER [still watchful] How so?

VERONIKA
Where, for a penance, Barbara, Jacob's daughter,
Will take the veil. His one, for all of ours!
It will be over now.

PIPER
  Have none returned?

VERONIKA
I know not; I am searching, since the dawn.

PIPER
To-day?

VERONIKA
And every day.
PIPER
  That herd-bell, there
Why do you bring it?

VERONIKA
[sobbing]
Oh, he loves them so.
I knew, if he but heard it, he would follow—

PIPER
No more. I know!

VERONIKA
  An if he could!

PIPER
[like a wounded animal]
  You hurt me
Somewhere,—you hurt me!

VERONIKA
  You!—A man of air?

PIPER
What, am I that?

VERONIKA
What are you?—Give them back!
Give them to me, I say. You have them hidden.
Are they all living?

PIPER [struggling with pity] Yes, yes.

VERONIKA
  Give them back!

PIPER
No.

VERONIKA
But they live, they live?

PIPER
  —Wilt thou believe me?

VERONIKA
And are they safe?

PIPER
  Yes.

VERONIKA
  And you hide them?

PIPER
  Yes.

VERONIKA
And are they . . . warm?

PIPER
  —Yes.

VERONIKA
  Are they happy?—Oh,
That cannot be!—But do they laugh, sometimes?

PIPER
Yes.

VERONIKA
—Then you'll give them back again!

PIPER
No, never.

VERONIKA
[Half to herself, distraught between suspense and hope]
I must be patient.

PIPER
  Woman, they all are mine.
I hold them in my hands; they bide with me.
What's breath and blood,—what are the hearts of children,
To Hamelin,—while it heaps its money-bags?

VERONIKA
You cared not for the money.

PIPER
  No?—You seem
A foreign woman,—come from very far,
That you should know.

VERONIKA
  I know. I was not born
There. But you wrong them. There were yet a few
Who would have dealt with you more honestly
Than this Jacobus, or—

PIPER
  Or Kurt the Syndic!
Believe It not. Those two be tongue and brain
For the whole town! I know them. And that town
Stands as the will of other towns, a score,
That make us wandering poor the things we are!
It stands for all, unto the end of time,
That turns this bright world black and the Sun cold,
With hate, and hoarding;—all-triumphant Greed
That spreads above the roots of all despair,
And misery, and rotting of the soul!
Now shall they learn—if money-bags can learn—
What turns the bright world black, and the Sun cold;
And what's that creature that they call a child!—
And what this winged thing men name a heart
Beating queer rhythms that they long to kill.—
What is this hunger and this thirst to sing,
To laugh, to fight,—to hope, to be believed?
And what is truth? And who did make the stars?

* * * * *

I have to pay for fifty thousand hates,
Greeds, cruelties; such barbarous tortured days
A tiger would disdain;—for all my kind!
Not my one mother, not my own of kin,—
All, all, who wear the motley in the heart
Or on the body:—for all caged glories
And trodden wings, and sorrows laughed to scorn.
I,—I!—At last.

VERONIKA
  Ah, me! How can I say:
Yet make them happier than they let you be?

PIPER
Woman, you could!—They know not how to be
Happy! They turn to darkness and to woe
All that is made for joy. They deal with men
As, far across the mountains, in the south,
Men trap a singing thrush, put out his eyes,—
And cage him up and bid him then to sing—
Sing before God that made him,—yes, to sing!

* * * * *

I save the children.—Yes, I save them, so,
Save them forever, who shall save the world!—
Yes, even Hamelin.—
  But for only you,
What do they know of Children?—Pfui, their own!
Who knows a treasure, when it is his own?
Do they not whine: 'Five mouths around the table;
And a poor harvest. And now comes one more!
God chastens us!'—Pfui!—

VERONIKA [apart, dully] . . . But I must be patient.

PIPER
You know, you know, that not one dared, save you,—
Dared all alone, to search this devil's haunt.

VERONIKA
They would have died—

PIPER
  But never risked their souls!
That knew I also.

VERONIKA
Ah!

PIPER
'Young faces,' sooth,
The old ones prate of!—Bah, what is't they want?
'Some one to work for me, when I am old;
Some one to follow me unto my grave;
Some one—for me!' Yes, yes. There is not one
Old huddler-by-the-fire would shift his seat
To a cold corner, if it might bring back
All of the Children in one shower of light!

VERONIKA
The old, ah, yes! But not—

PIPER
  The younger men?
Aha! Their pride to keep the name alive;
The name, the name, the little Hamelin name,
Tied to the trade;—carved plain upon his gravestone!
Wonderful! If your name must chain you, live,
To your gaol of a house, your trade you love not,—why,
Best go without a name, like me!—How now?
Woman,—you suffer?

VERONIKA
  Ah, yet could I laugh,
Piper, yet could I laugh, for one true word,—
But not of all men.

PIPER
  Then of whom?

VERONIKA
  Of Kurt.

PIPER
Bah, Kurt the Councillor! a man to curse.

VERONIKA
He is my husband.

PIPER
[shortly]
  Thine? I knew it not.
Thine? But it cannot be. He could not father
That little Jan,—that little shipwrecked Star.

VERONIKA
Oh, then you love him? You will give him back?

PIPER
The son of Kurt?

VERONIKA
No, not his son! No, no.
He is all mine, all mine. Kurt's sons are straight,
And ruddy, like Kurt's wife of Hamelin there,
Who died before.

PIPER
And you were wed. . .

VERONIKA
  So young,
It is all like some dream before the sunrise,
That left me but that little shipwrecked Star.

PIPER
Why did you marry Kurt the Councillor?

VERONIKA [humbly] He wanted me. Once I was beautiful.

PIPER [wonderingly] What, more than now?

VERONIKA
  Mock if you will.

PIPER
  I mock you;
O Woman, . . . you are very beautiful.

VERONIKA
I meant, with my poor self, to buy him house
And warmth, and softness for his little feet.
Oh, then I knew not,—when we sell our hearts,
We buy us nothing.

PIPER
  Now you know.

VERONIKA
  I know.
His dearest home it was, to keep my heart
Alone and beautiful, and clear and still;
And to keep all the gladness in my heart,
That bubbled from nowhere!—for him to drink;—
And to be houseless of all other things,
Even as the Lonely Man.
[The PIPER starts]
  Where is the child?

PIPER
No; that I will not tell. Only thus much:
I love thy child. Trust me,—I love them, all.
They are the brightest miracle I know.
Wherever I go, I search the eyes of men
To find such clearness;—and it is not there.
Lies, greed and cruelty, and dreadful dark!
And all that makes Him sad these thousand years,
And keeps His forehead bleeding.—Ah, you know!

VERONIKA
Whom do you think on?

PIPER
Why, the Lonely Man,—
But now I have the children safe with me;
And men shall never teach them what men know;—
Those radiant things that have no wish at all
Save for what is all-beautiful!—the Rainbow,
The running Water, and the Moon, the Moon!
The only things worth having!

VERONIKA
  —Oh, you will not
Give him to me?

PIPER
  How give you yours again,
And not the others? What a life for him!
[She hides her face]
And Kurt the Syndic, left without his sons?
Bah, do not dream of it! What would Kurt do?—
And hearken here! Should any hunt me down,
Take care. Who then could bring the children back?

VERONIKA Jan! Jan!

PIPER
He loves me. He is happy.

VERONIKA [passionately ] No! Without me?—No.

PIPER
  He has not even once
Called you.

VERONIKA
[staggering]
Ah, ah! how cruel! 'Tis the spell,
The spell.

PIPER
[touching his heart]
—You hurt me, here. What makes it, Woman?—
Would you not have him happy?

VERONIKA
  O my God!

PIPER
[offering her water]
Drink here. Take heart. O Woman, they must stay!
'T is better so. No, no, I mock thee not.
Thou foldest all about me like the Dark
That holds the stars. I would I were thy child.|

VERONIKA
But I will find him. I will find him—

PIPER
  No,
It must not be! Their life is bound with mine.
If I be harmed, they perish. Keep that word,
Go, go!

VERONIKA [passionately] My longing will bring back my Own.

PIPER
Ah, long not so.

VERONIKA
  Yes, it will bring him back!
He breathes. And I will wish him home to me,
Till my heart break!

PIPER
Hearts never break in Hamelin.
Go, then; and teach those other ones to long;
Wake up those dead!

VERONIKA
  Peace. I shall draw him home.

PIPER
Not till he cries for thee.

VERONIKA
  Oh, that will be
Soon,—soon.

PIPER
[gently]
  Remember,—if one word of thine
Set on the hounds to track me down and slay me,
They will be lost forever; they would die,—
They, who are in my keeping.

VERONIKA
  Yea, I hear.
But he will come . . . oh, he will come to me,
Soon,—soon.

[She goes, haltingly, and disappears along the road to Hamelin.—The PIPER, alone, stands spell-bound, breathing hard, and looking after her. Then he turns his head and comes down, doggedly. Again he pauses. With a sudden sharp effort he turns, and crosses with passionate appeal to the shrine, his arm uplifted towards the carven Christ as if he warded off some accusation. His speech comes in a torrent.

PIPER
I will not, no, I will not, Lonely Man!
I have them in my hand. I have them all—
All—all! And I have lived unto this day.
You understand . . .
[He waits as if for some reply]
You know what men they are.
And what have they to do with such as these?
Think of those old as death, in body and heart,
Hugging their wretched hoardings, in cold fear
Of moth and rust!—While these miraculous ones,
Like golden creatures made of sunset-cloud,
Go out forever,—every day, fade by
With music and wild stars!—Ah, but You know.
The hermit told me once. You loved them, too.
But I know more than he, how You must love them:
Their laughter, and their bubbling, skylark words
To cool Your heart. Oh, listen, Lonely Man!—

* * * * *

Oh, let me keep them! I will bring them to You,
Still nights, and breathless mornings; they shall touch
Your hands and feet with all their swarming hands,
Like showering petals warm on furrowed ground,—
All sweetness! They will make Thee whole again,
With love. Thou wilt lookup and smile on us!

* * * * *

Why not? I know—the half—You will be saying.
You will be thinking of Your Mother.—Ah,
But she was different. She was not as they.
She was more like . . . this one, the wife of Kurt!
Of Kurt! No, no; ask me not this, not this!
Here is some dawn of day for Hamelin,—now!
-Tis hearts of men You want. Not mumbled prayers;
Not greed and carven tombs, not misers' candles;
No offerings, more, from men that feed on men;
Eternal psalms and endless cruelties! . . .
Even from now, there may be hearts in Hamelin,
Once stabbed awake!
[He pleads, defends, excuses passionately; before his will gives
way, as the arrow flies from the bow-string.]
  —I will not give them back!
And Jan,—for Jan, that little one, that dearest
To Thee and me, hark,—he is wonderful.
Ask it not of me. Thou dost know I cannot!

* * * * *

Look, Lonely Man! You shall have all of us
To wander the world over, where You stand
At all the crossways, and on lonely hills,—
Outside the churches, where the lost ones
And the wayfaring men, and thieves and wolves
And lonely creatures, and the ones that sing!
We will show all men what we hear and see;
And we will make Thee lift Thy head, and smile.

* * * * *

No, no, I cannot give them all! No, no.— Why wilt Thou ask it?—Let me keep but one. No, no, I will not. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Have Thy way.—I will!

Curtain

ACT IV

SCENE: Hamelin market-place.

It is early morning; so dark that only a bleak twilight glimmers in the square; the little streets are dim. Everywhere gloom and stillness. In the house of KURT, beside the Minster, there is one window-light behind a curtain in the second story. At the casements, down right and left, sit OLD CLAUS and OLD URSULA, wan and motionless as the dead.

The church-bell, which likewise seems to have aged, croaks softly, twice. PETER the Sacristan stands by the bell-rope.

OLD URSULA
No, no. They'll never come. I told ye so.
They all are gone. There will be nothing young
To follow us to the grave.

OLD CLAUS
  No, no,—not one!

[The Minster-door opens, and out come certain of the townsfolk from early mass. They look unnaturally old and colorless. Their steps lag drearily.—HANS the Butcher and his wife; AXEL the Smith with his wife, and PETER the Cobbler, meet, on their way to the little street, left, and greet one another with painstaking, stricken kindness. They speak in broken voices.

HANS the Butcher
Well, well—

AXEL the Smith
God knows!
[The bell sounds]

HANS the Butcher
Neighbor, how fare your knees?
[AXEL smooths his right leg and gives a jerk of pain. They all
move stiffly.

AXEL the Smith
I'm a changed man.

HANS the Butcher
  Peter the Sacristan,
Give by the bell! It tolls like—Oh, well, well!

AXEL the Smith
It does no good, it does no good at all.

PETER the Cobbler
Rather, I do believe it mads the demons;
And I have given much thought—

AXEL the Smith
  Over thy shoes!

PETER the Cobbler [modestly] To demons.

AXEL'S WIFE
  Let him chirp philosophy!
He had no children.

PETER the Cobbler
[wagging his head solemnly]
  I'm an altered man.
Now were we not proceeding soberly,
Singing a godly hymn, and all in tune,
But yesterday, when we passed by—

HANS' WIFE
  Don't say it!
Don't name the curseful place.

HANS the Butcher
  —And my poor head,
It goes round yet;—around, around, around,
As I were new ashore from the high seas;
Still dancing—dancing—

AXEL the Smith
  With 'Yes—yes!—Yes—yes!'

HANS the Butcher
Even as ye heard, the farmer's yokel found me
Clasping a tree, and praying to stand still!

AXEL the Smith
Ay, ay,—but that is nought.

PETER the Cobbler
  All nought beside.

HANS' WIFE
Better we had the rats and mice again,
Though they did eat us homeless,—if we might
All starve together!—Oh, my Hans, my Hans!

PETER the Cobbler
Hope not, good souls. Rest sure, they will not come.

AXEL'S WIFE
Who will say that?

PETER the Cobbler
[discreetly]
Not I; but the Inscription,
[He points to the Rathaus wall.]

AXEL the Smith
Of our own making?

PETER the Cobbler
  On the Rathaus wall!
At our own bidding it was made and graved:—
How,—on that day and down this very street,
He led them,—he, the Wonderfully-clothed,
The Strange Man, with his piping;
[They cross themselves]
  And they went,—
And never came again.

HANS' WIFE
  But they may come!

PETER the Cobbler
[pityingly]
Marble is final, woman;—nay, poor soul!
When once a man be buried, and over him
The stone doth say Hic Jacet, or Here Lies,
When did that man get up?—There is the stone.
They come no more, for piping or for prayer;
Until the trump of the Lord Gabriel.
And if they came, 'tis not in Hamelin men
To alter any stone, so graven.—Marble
Is final. Marble has the last word, ever.
[Groans from the burghers.]

HANS the Butcher
O little Ilse!—Oh! and Lump—poor Lump!
More than a dog could bear!—More than a dog—

[They all break down. The Shoemaker consoles them.

PETER the Cobbler
Bear up, sweet neighbors.—We are all but dust.
No mice, no children.—Hem! And now Jacobus,—
His child, not even safe with Holy Church,
But lost and God knows where!

AXEL'S WIFE
Bewitched,—bewitched!
[Hans and his wife, arm in arm, turn left, towards their house,
peering ahead.

HANS' WIFE
Kind saints! Me out and gone to early mass,
And all this mortal church-time, there's a candle,
A candle burning in the casement there;—
Thou wasteful man!

HANS the Butcher
[huskily]
Come, come! Do not be chiding.
Suppose they came and could not see their way.
Suppose—O wife!—I thought they'd love the light!
I thought—

PETER the Cobbler
Ay, now! And there's another light
In Kurt the Syndic's house.

[They turn and look up. Other burghers join the group. All walk lamely and look the picture of wretchedness.

AXEL'S WIFE
  His wife, poor thing,
The priest is with her. Ay, for once, they say,
Kurt's bark is broken.

OLD URSULA
  There will be nothing young
To follow us to the grave.

AXEL'S WIFE
  They tell, she seems
Sore stricken since the day that she was lost,
Lost, searching on the mountain. Since that time,
She will be saying nought. She stares and smiles.

HANS' WIFE
And reaches out her arms,—poor soul!

ALL
  Poor soul!

[Murmur in the distance. They do not heed it.

AXEL the Smith
[To the Butcher]
That was no foolish thought of thine, yon candle.
I do remember now as I look back,
They always loved the lights. My Rudi there
Would aye be meddling with my tinder-box.
And once I—Oh!—
[Choking]

AXEL'S WIFE
[soothingly]
Now, now! thou didst not hurt him!
'T was I! Oh, once—I shut him in the dark!

AXEL the Smith
Come home . . . and light the candles.

PETER the Cobbler
  In the day-time!

AXEL'S WIFE
Oh, it is dark enough!

AXEL the Smith
Lord knows, who made
Both night and day, one of 'em needs to shine!
But nothing does!—Nothing is daylight now.
Come, wife, we'll light the candles.

[Exit with his wife.

PETER the Cobbler
  He's a changed man.

PETER the Sacristan
God help us, what's to do?
[Tumult approaching. Shouts of 'Jacobus' and 'Barbara.'
  Hark!

HANS' WIFE
  Neighbors!

HANS the Butcher
Hark! Hark!

[AXEL and his wife reenter hastily; AXEL rushes toward the noise.

AXEL'S WIFE
Oh, I hear something! Can it be—

PETER the Cobbler
  They're shouting.

HANS the Butcher
My Iambs,—my lambs!

[AXEL reenters, crestfallen]

AXEL the Smith 'Tis naught—but Barbara His—his!

[Shaking his fist at the house of Jacobus.

PETER the Cobbler [calling] Jacobus!

[The others are stricken with disappointment.

HANS the Butcher
Wife,—'t is none of ours.

AXEL the Smith
Let him snore on!—The only man would rather
Sleep late than meet his only child again!

PETER the Cobbler
[deprecatingly]
No man may parley with the gifts of Fortune!
[Knocking on the door]
Jacobus!

[Enter, at the rear, with a straggling crowd, BARBARA and MICHAEL, both radiant and resolute. She wears the long green cloak over her bridal array.

JACOBUS appears in his doorway, night-capped and fur-gowned, shrinking from the hostile crowd. The people murmur.

CROWD
  ( Barbara!—She that was bewitched!
  ( And who's the man? Is it the Piper? No!
  ( No, no—some stranger. Barbara! Barbara's home;—
  ( He never gave her up!—Who is the man?

JACOBUS
My daughter! 'Tis my daughter,—found—restored!
Oh, heaven is with us!

ALL [sullenly] Ah!

JACOBUS
  Child, where have you been?

ALL
Ay, where, Jacobus?
[He is dismayed.]

JACOBUS
  Who is this man?—Come hither.

BARBARA
[without approaching him, lifting her face clearly]
Good-morning to you, father! We are wed.
Michael,—shall I go hither?
[The townsfolk are amazed.]

JACOBUS
  She is mad!
She is quite mad,—my treasure.

PETER the Cobbler
  Let her speak.
Maids sometimes marry, even in Hamelin.

ALL
  ( Ay, tell us!
  ( Who is he? Barbara?
  ( Art thou mad?—How came ye hither?

JACOBUS
Who is he?

BARBARA
  Michael.

PETER the Cobbler
  'Tis the Sword-Eater!
A friend o' the Piper's!—Hearken—

ALL
  She's bewitched!

HANS' WIFE
This is the girl was vowed to Holy Church,
For us and for our children that are lost!

BARBARA
Ay, and did any have a mind to me,
When I was lost? Left dancing, and distraught?

ALL
We could not. We were spell-bound. Nay, we could not.

JACOBUS [sagely, after the others] We could not.

BARBARA
So!—But there was one who could.
There was one man. And this is he.
[turning to Michael]
  And I,
I am no more your Barbara,—I am his.
And I will go with him, over the world.
I come to say farewell.

JACOBUS
He hath bewitched her!

MICHAEL
Why did we ever come? Poor darling one,
Thy too-much duty hath us in a trap!

AXEL the Smith
No, no!—Fair play!

OTHERS
  Don't let them go! We have them.

PETER the Cobbler
Hold what ye have. Be 't children, rats or mice!

[Hubbub without, and shouts. Some of the burghers hasten out after this fresh excitement. JACOBUS is cowed. BARBARA and MICHAEL are startled. The shouts turn savage. The uproar grows. Shouts of 'Ay, there be is! We have him! We have him! Help—help! Hold fast! Ah! Piper! Piper! Piper!'

How now? What all!—

[The crowd parts to admit the PIPER, haled hither with shouts and pelting, by MARTIN the Watch and other men, all breathless. His eyes burn.

MICHAEL [apart] Save us!—They have him.

MARTIN
[gaspingly]
  Help!
Mark ye—I caught him!—Help,—and hold him fast!

PIPER
I came here,—frog!

MARTIN
  Ay, he were coming on;
And after him a squirrel, hopping close!

SECOND MAN
As no man ever saw a squirrel hop—
Near any man from Hamelin! And I looked—

MARTIN
And it was he; and all we rush upon him—
And take him!

PIPER
Loose thy claws, I tell thee I—

ALL
  ( 'Ware!
  ( Mercy!
  ( Let him go!

VOICE FROM CROWD
I have the squirrel!

PIPER
[savagely]
Let the squirrel go!
Or you shall rue it.—Loose him! He's not mine.

[He sees BARBARA and MICHAEL for the first time and recoils with amazement. BARBARA steps towards him.

BARBARA
Oh, let him go,—let be. His heart is clear,
As water from the well!
[The PIPER gazes at her, open-mouthed.]

ALL
  ( She talks in her sleep!
  ( The maid's bewitched!
  ( Now, will ye hear?

AXEL'S WIFE
He piped and made thee dance!

PETER the Cobbler
  'T was he bewitched us!

BARBARA [serenely] Whatever was,—it was for love of me.

PIPER [thunderstruck] So!

BARBARA
He piped;—and all ye danced and fled away!
He piped;—and brought me back my wandering wits,
And gave me safe unto my Love again,—
My Love I had forgotten. . . .

PIPER
So!

MICHAEL [with conviction] Truly said.

BARBARA [proudly] Michael.

JACOBUS
Who is he, pray?

BARBARA
My own true love.

PETER the Cobbler
  Now, is that all his name?

BARBARA
It is enough.

JACOBUS
  —She's mad. Shall these things be?

ALL
  ( The Children! The Children!
  ( Where are the Children?
  ( Piper! Pi-per! Piper!

PIPER
[sternly]
  Quiet you. And hear me.
I came to bring good tidings. In good faith,
Of mine own will, I came.—And like a thief
You haled me hither.—
[They hang upon his words]
  . . . Your children—live.

ALL
  ( Thank God! I knew, I knew!
  ( We could not think them lost.
  ( Bewitched! Oh, but they live!—
  ( Piper!—O Piper!

PETER the Cobbler
They're spell-bound,—mark me!

PIPER
  Ay, they are,—spell-bound:
Fast bound by all the hardness of your hearts;
Caged,—in the iron of your money-lust

ALL
  ( No, no, not all! Not I! Not mine, not mine!
  ( No, no,—it is not true.

PIPER
Your blasphemies,—your cunning and your Fear.

ALL
  ( No, no!—What can we do?
  ( News, Piper, news!
  ( Where are your ridings, Piper?

PIPER
Now hear me. You did make Jacobus swear
To give his child.—What recks it, how he lose her?—
Either to Holy Church—against her will!—
Or to this man,—so that he give her up!
He swore to you. And she hath pledged her faith.
She is fast wed.—Jacobus shall not have her.
He breaks all bargains; and for such as he,
You suffer.—Will you bear it?

ALL
  No, no, no!

PIPER
Then she who was "Proud Barbara" doth wed
Michael-the-Sword-Eater.—The pledge shall stand.
Shall it?

ALL
  ( It stands.
  ( Ay, ay!

PIPER
Your word!

ALL
  ( We swear. We answer for him.
  ( So much for Jacobus!

AXEL the Smith
An' if yon fellow like an honest trade,
I'll take him!—I'll make swords!
[Cheers. Michael is happy.]

ALL
Quick, quick!—Our children.—Piper!—Tell us all!

PIPER
'T is well begun.—Now have I come to say:
There is one child I may bring back to you,—
The first.

ALL
[in an uproar]
  ( Mine—mine! Let it be mine!
  ( Ours'—All of them! Now!
  ( Mine—mine—mine!—mine!

PIPER
[unmoved]
  —Oh, Hamelin to the end!
Which of you longed the most, and dared the most?
Which of you—

[He searches the crowd anxiously with his eyes.]

ALL
  ( I! I! I!
  ( We searched the hills!
  ( We prayed four days!
  ( We fasted twenty hours—
  ( Mine! Mine!
  ( Mine—mine—mine—mine!

PIPER
  Not yet.—They all do live
Under a spell,—deep in a hollow hill.
They sleep, and wake; and lead a charmed life.
But first of all,—one child shall come again.
[He scans the crowd still]
Where is the wife—of Kurt, the Councillor?

ALL [savagely] No, mine, mine, mine!

MARTIN'S WIFE
What, that lame boy of hers?

PIPER
Where is the wife of Kurt?

PETER the Cobbler AND OTHERS
  —Veronika?
The foreign woman? She is lying ill:
Sore-stricken yonder—
[Pointing to the house.]

PIPER [gladly] Bid her come, look out!

[The crowd moves confusedly towards KURT'S house. The PIPER too approaches, calling]

Ho,—ho, within there!

[ANSELM, the priest, appears in the doorway with uplifted hand, commanding silence. He is pale and stern. At sight of his face the PIPER, falters.

ANSELM
  Silence here!—Good people
What means this?

PIPER
  I have tidings for—the wife
Of Kurt—the Councillor.

ANSELM
You are too late.

PIPER
Bid her—look out!

ANSELM [solemnly] Her soul is passing, now.

[The PIPER falls back stricken and speechless.—The crowd, seeing him humanly overwhelmed, grows brave.

MARTIN'S WIFE
'Tis he has done it!

HANS the Butcher
  —Nay, it is God's will.
Poor soul!

PETER the Sacristan
[fearfully]
Don't anger him! 'T was Kurt the Syndic
With his bad bargain.

AXEL the Smith
  Do not cross the Piper!

MARTIN
Nay, but he's spent. He's nought to fear.—
Look there.
Mark how he breathes! Upon him! Help, help, ho!—
Thou piping knave!

OTHERS
Tie—chain him!—Kill him!—Kill him!
[They surround him. He thrusts them off.]

PETER the Cobbler and OTHERS
  ( Bind him, but do not kill him!—Oh, beware!
  ( What is he saying?—Peace.

PIPER
[brokenly]
  The wife of Kurt!
Off! what can you do?—Oh! I came, I came
Here, full of peace, and with a heart of love;—
To give—but now that one live Soul of all
Is gone!—No, no!
  —I say she shall not die!
She shall not!

ANSELM
  Hush!—She is in the hands of God.
She is at peace.

PIPER
  No, never! Let me by!
[ANSELM bars the threshold and steps out.]

ANSELM
Thou froward fool!—Wouldst rend with tears again
That shriven breath? And drag her back to sorrow?
It is the will of God.

PIPER
  —And I say No!

ANSELM
Who dare dispute—

PIPER
  I dare!

ANSELM
  With death?—With God?

PIPER
I know His will, for once! She shall not die.
She must come back, and live!—Veronika!

[He calls up to the lighted window. The people stand aghast:
ANSELM bars the threshold.

I come, I come! I bring your Own to you!
Listen, Veronika!

[He feels for his pipe. It is gone.—His face shows dismay, for a moment]

Where?—Where?

PEOPLE
  ( He's lost the pipe.—He's hiding it!
  ( He cannot pipe them back! 'tis gone—'tis gone.—
  ( No, 'tis to save his life.—It is for time.

PIPER [to himself] —'T is but a voice. What matter?—

CROWD
  ( Seize him—
  ( Bind him!

PIPER
[to them]
Hush!
[Passionately he stretches his arms towards the window.

ANSELM
Peace, for this parting Soul!

PIPER
[with fixed eyes]
  It shall not go.
[To the Window]
Veronika!—Ah, listen!—wife of Kurt.
He comes . . . he comes! Open thine eyes a moment!
Blow the faint fire within thy heart. He comes!
Thy longing brings him;—ay, and mine,—and mine!
Heed not these grave-makers, Veronika.
Live, live, and laugh once more!—Oh! do you hear?
Look, how you have to waken all these dead,
That walk about you!—Open their dim eyes;
Sing to them with your heart, Veronika,
As I am piping, far away, outside!
Waken them,—change them! Show them how to long,
To reach their arms as you do, for the stars,
And fold them in. Stay but one moment;—stay,
And thine own Child shall draw thee back again
Down here, to mother him,—mother us all!
Oh, do you listen?—Do not try to answer,—
I hear!—I hear. . . .

[A faint sound of piping comes from the distance.—The PIPER is first watchful, then radiant.—The burghers are awe-struck, as it sounds nearer.

BARBARA
Listen!

MICHAEL
  His very tune,

[The PIPER faces front with fixed, triumphant eyes above the crowd.

MARTIN'S WIFE
  O Lord, have mercy!
The Pipe is coming to him, through the air!

ALL
'T is coming to the Piper ;—we are lost.—
The Pipe is coming, coming through the air!

[The PIPER, with a sudden gesture, commands silence. He bounds away (centre), and disappears. The people, spell-bound with terror, murmur and fray.

ANSELM Retro me, Sathanas!

[KURT the Syndic appears on the threshold behind ANSELM, whose arm he touches, whispering.—Their faces are wonder-struck with hope and awe.

HANS the Butcher [to the others, pointing] 'T is Kurt the Syndic.

AXEL the Smith
Then she lives!—

HANS' WIFE
  Look there!

OTHERS
Look, look! The casement! . . .

[The casement of the lighted window opens wide and slowly.—Reenter the PIPER with JAN in his arms. The little boy holds the Pipe, and smiles about with tranquil happiness. The PIPER, radiant with joy, lifts him high, looking toward VERONIKA'S window.—The awe-struck people point to the open casement.

VERONIKA'S two white bands reach out; then she herself appears, pale, shining with ecstasy.

JAN 'Tis Mother!

[The PIPER lifts him still before the window, gazing up. Then he springs upon the bench (outside the lower window) and gives JAN into the arms of VERONIKA.—KURT and ANSELM how their heads. A hush. —Then JAN looks down from the window-seat.

PIPER [to him, smiling wisely] And all the others?

JAN
They were all asleep.

PIPER
I'll waken them!
[He takes his pipe.—An uproar of joy among the burghers.]

AXEL the Smith, HANS the Butcher, ALL
  ( Bring lights,—bring lights!
  ( Oh, Piper—Oh, my lambs!
  ( The children!—The children!

[Some rush out madly; others go into their houses for lights; some are left on their knees, weeping for joy.

The PIPER sounds a few notes; then lifts his hand and listens, smiling.—Uproar in the distance.—A great harking of dogs;—shouts and cheers; then the high, sweet voices of the Children.

The piping is drowned in cries of joy. The sun comes out, still rosy, in a flood of light. The crowd rushes in. Fat burghers hug each other, and laugh and cry. They are all younger, their faces bloom, as by a miracle.

The Children pour in. Some are carried, some run hand-in-hand. Everywhere women embrace their own. KURT has his sons.—CHEAT-THE-DEVIL comes, with a daisy-chain around his neck, all smiles.

An uproar of light and faces.

HANS the Butcher
The treasure for the Piper!

ALL
  Ay, ay, Piper!

HANS the Butcher
The thousand guilders!

PIPER
  Give them Michael there,
For all us three. I hate to carry things;—
Saving out one!
[He waves his hand to JAN in the window.—VERONIKA appears behind
him, shining with new life. JAN leans out and points to the ground.
Heja! What now?—
[Picking up one of JAN'S winged shoes.]

HANS' WIFE
  Look! Look!—
And wings upon it! Mercy, what a shoe.—
Don't give it back.—The child will fly away!

PIPER
No, no!
[Looking up at the window soothingly.]
He only wanted one to show—

JAN
To Mother!—See.
[Showing her his other foot, joyously]

PIPER
[to him]
  And this,—wilt leave it here?
Here—with—

JAN
The Lonely Man! Oh, make Him smile!

[The PIPER crosses to the Shrine, with the little shoe, and hangs it up there; then he turns towards the window, waving his hand.

CHILDREN
Where are you going? . . .
[They run and cling.]

PIPER
Ah, the high-road now!

CHILDREN
Oh! why?

PIPER
  I have to find somebody there.
Yes, now and every day, and everywhere
The wide world over.—So: good-night, good-morning,
Good-by! There's so much piping left to do,—
I must be off, and pipe.

CHILDREN
  Oh! why?

PIPER
  I promised,
Look you! . . .

CHILDREN
Who is it?

PIPER
Why,—the Lonely Man.

[He waves them farewells and goes. The Children dance and laugh and sparkle. Through the hundred sounds of joy, there comes a far-off piping.

THE END