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.