Classic Poem

PART IV .

Pieter Snoye was a boor of good renown,
Who dwelt about an hour and a half from the town;
And he, while the people were all in debate,
Went quietly in at the city gate.

For Father Kijf he sought about,
His confessor, till he found him out;
But the Father Confessor wondered to see
The old man, and what his errand might be.

The good Priest did not wonder less
When Pieter said he was come to confess;
" Why, Pieter, how can this be so?
I confessed thee some ten days ago!

" Thy conscience, methinks, may be well at rest,
An honest man among the best;
I would that all my flock, like thee,
Kept clear accounts with Heaven and me! "

Always before, without confusion,
Being sure of easy absolution,
Pieter his little slips had summ'd;
But he hesitated now, and he haw'd, and humm'd.

And something so strange the Father saw
In Pieter's looks, and his hum and his haw,
That he began to doubt it was something more
Than a trifle omitted in last week's score.

At length it came out, that in the affair
Of Roprecht the Robber he had some share;
The Confessor then gave a start in fear —
" God grant there have been no witchcraft her

Pieter Snoye, who was looking down,
With something between a smile and a frown,
Felt that suspicion move his bile,
And look'd up with more of a frown that smile.

" Fifty years I, Pieter Snoye,
Have lived in this country, man and boy,
And have always paid the Church her due;
And kept short scores with Heaven and you.

" The Devil himself, though Devil he be,
Would not dare impute that sin to me;
He might charge me as well with heresy;
And if he did, here, in this place,
I'd call him liar, and spit in his face! "

The Father, he saw, cast a gracious eye
When he heard him thus the Devil defy;
The wrath, of which he had eased his mind,
Left a comfortable sort of warmth behind,

Like what a cheerful cup will impart,
In a social hour, to an honest man's heart;
And he added, " For all the witchcraft here,
I shall presently make that matter clear.

" Though I am, as you very well know, Father Kijf,
A peaceable man, and keep clear of strife,
It's a queerish business that now I've been in;
But I can't say that it's much of a sin.

" However, it needs must be confess'd,
And as it will set this people at rest,
To come with it at once was best:
Moreover, if I delayed, I thought
That some might perhaps into trouble be brought.

" Under the seal I tell it you,
And you will judge what is best to do,
That no hurt to me and my son may ensue.
No earthly harm have we intended,
And what was ill done has been well mended.

" I and my son, Piet Pieterszoon,
Were returning home by the light of the moon;
From this good city of Cologne,
On the night of the execution day;
And hard by the gibbet was our way.

" About midnight it was we were passing by,
My son, Piet Pieterszoon, and I,
When we heard a moaning as we came near,
Which made us quake at first for fear.

" But the moaning was presently heard again,
And we knew it was nothing ghostly then;
" Lord help us, Father!" Piet Pieterszoon said,
" Roprecht, for certain, is not dead!"

" So under the gallows our cart we drive,
And, sure enough, the man was alive;
Because of the irons that he was in,
He was hanging, not by the neck, but the chin.

" The reason why things had got thus wrong,
Was, that the rope had been left too long;
The Hangman's fault — a clumsy rogue,
He is not fit to hang a dog.

" Now Roprecht, as long as the people were there,
Never stirr'd hand or foot in the air;
But when at last he was left alone,
By that time so much of his strength was gone,
That he could do little more than groan.

" Piet and I had been sitting it out,
Till a latish hour, at a christening bout;
And perhaps we were rash, as you may think,
And a little soft, or so, for drink.

" Father Kijf, we could not bear
To leave him hanging in misery there;
And 'twas an act of mercy, I cannot but say,
To get him down, and take him away.

" And, as you know, all people said
What a goodly end that day he had made;
So we thought for certain, Father Kijf,
That, if he were saved, he would mend his life.

" My son, Piet Pieterszoon, and l,
We took him down, seeing none was nigh;
And we took off his suit of irons with care,
When we got him home, and we hid him there.

" The secret, as you may guess, was known
To Alit, my wife, but to her alone;
And never sick man, I dare aver,
Was better tended than he was by her.

" Good advice, moreover, as good could be,
He had from Alit, my wife, and me;
And no one could promise fairer than he:
So that we and Piet Pieterszoon, our son,
Thought that we a very good deed had done.

" You may well think we laughed in our sleeve,
At what the people then seem'd to believe;
Queer enough it was to hear them say,
That the Three Kings took Roprecht away; —

" Or that St. Ursula, who is in bliss,
With her Army of Virgins had done this:
The Three Kings and St. Ursula, too,
I warrant, had something better to do.

" Piet Pieterszoon, my son, and I,
We heard them talk as we stood by,
And Piet look'd at me with a comical eye.
We thought them fools, but, as you shall see,
Not over-wise ourselves were we.

" For I must tell you, Father Kijf,
That when we told this to Alit, my wife,
She at the notion perk'd up with delight,
And said she believed the people were right.

" Had not Roprecht put in the Saints his hope,
And who but they should have loosen'd the rope,
When they saw that no one could intend
To make at the gallows a better end?

" Yes, she said, it was perfectly clear
That there must have been a miracle here;
And we had the happiness to be in it,
Having been brought there just at the minute.

" And therefore it would become us to make
An offering for this favor's sake
To the Three Kings and the Virgins too,
Since we could not tell to which it was due.

" For greater honor there could be none
Than what in this business the Saints had done
To us and Piet Pieterszoon, our son;
She talk'd me over, Father Kijf,
With that tongue of hers, did Alit, my wife.

" Lord, forgive us! as if the Saints would deign
To come and help such a rogue in grain;
When the only mercy the case could admit
Would have been to make his halter fit!

" That would have made one hanging do,
In happy season for him too,
When he was in a proper cue;
And have saved some work, as you will see,
To my son, Piet Pieterszoon, and me.

" Well, Father, we kept him at bed and board,
Till his neck was cured and his strength restored,
And we should have sent him off this day
With something to help him on his way.

" But this wicked Roprecht, what did he?
Though he had been saved thus mercifully,
Hanging had done him so little good,
That he took to his old ways as soon as he could.

" Last night, when we were all asleep,
Out of his bed did this gallows-bird creep;
Piet Pieterszoon's boots and spurs he put on,
And stole my best horse, and away he was gone!

" Now Alit, my wife, did not sleep so hard,
But she heard the horse's feet in the yard;
And when she jogg'd me, and bade me awake,
My mind misgave me as soon as she spake.

" To the window my good woman went,
And watch'd which way his course he bent;
And in such time as a pipe can be lit,
Our horses were ready with bridle and bit.

" Away, as fast as we could hie,
We went, Piet Pieterszoon and I;
And still on the plain we had him in sight;
The moon did not shine for nothing that night.

" Knowing the ground, and riding fast,
We came up with him at last,
And — would you believe it? Father Kijf,
The ungrateful wretch would have taken my life,
If he had not miss'd his stroke with a knife!

" The struggle in no long time was done,
Because, you know, we were two to one;
But yet all our strength we were fain to try,
Piet Pieterszoon, my son, and I.

" When we had got him on the ground,
We fastened his hands, and his legs we bound;
And across the horse we laid him then,
And brought him back to the house again.

" " We have robb'd the gallows, and that was ill done!"
Said I to Piet Pieterszoon, my son;
" And restitution we must make
To that same gallows, for justice' sake."

" In his suit of irons the rogue we array'd,
And once again in the cart he was laid!
Night not yet so far was spent,
But there was time enough for our intent;
And back to the triple tree we went.

" His own rope was ready there;
To measure the length we took good care;
And the job which the bungling Hangman begun,
This time, I think, was properly done
By me and Piet Pieterszoon, my son. "