Symphony of the Silliness (2)

The Moon than carried on, "Only one rat escapes who, as stout as Julius Caesar, swam across and lived to carry home to the Rat-land, his commentary about the story of the Piper, for the rest of his days, 'Which was, at the first shrill notes of the pipe, I heard a sound as of scraping tripe, and putting apples, wondrous ripe, into a cider-press's gripe. And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards, and a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards, and a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks, and a breaking the hoops of butter-casks; and it seemed as if a voice, was breathed sweeter than by harp or by psaltery, called out, 'Oh rats, rejoice! The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon. Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon! And just as one bulky sugar-puncheon, ready staved, like a great sun shone glorious scarce an inch before me. Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore me!'—Then I found the Weser rolling over me.'

As for the Hamelin folks, they ringing the bells till rocked the steeple. 'Go,' cried the Mayor, 'and get long poles! Poke out the nests and block up the holes! Consult with carpenters and builders, and leave in our town not even a trace of the rats! — when suddenly up the face of them, the Piper perked in the market-place, saying, 'First, if you please, give me my thousand guilders!'

'A thousand guilders!' The Mayor looked blue, so did the Corporation. For council dinners with Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; and half the money would replenish their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish, made rare havock to pay this sum to a wandering fellow, with a gipsy coat of red and yellow!

'Beside,' quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink, 'Our business was done at the river's brink; we saw with our eyes, the vermin sink, and what's dead can't come to life, I think. So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink srom the duty of giving you something for drink, and a matter of money to put in your poke. But, as for the guilders, what we spoke of them, as you very well know, was in joke. Beside, our losses have made us thrifty; A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!' The Piper was confused, 'Fifty thousand or just fifty?' he asked. 'Fifty ... only!' The mayor's voice was hoarse. The Piper sighed, and said, 'Listen to this story,

In a transcontinental country, called Misr, every Beast was a God, for much on the other hand, was Man become a beast. That poor animal, which otherwise had neither house nor home, had its temple and holiday.

One Day, in the Cats Temple, they made a pompous sacrifice of a milk White Rat, without spot or flain. The next Day, was a Festival sacred to the honour of the god Rat, for it seems every God had its Day; and to make him propitious nothing left than a Cat muft bleed at his Altars.

Well, Puss marched very gravely along, crowned with flowers and ribbons, attended by a solemn procession of Priests, who extolled to the Skies the praises of the great God Rat. There was Chaunting enough, Hymns and Anthems in abundance, base, treble, and counter tenor, and such quaverings as you never heard the like.

Everyone entreated the Rat to take care of his farm. 'Do not punish us, dear God Rat, with the insults of these wicked Cats, and may the blood of this here revenge thy cause.'

'He a God!' cries the Cat; you cannot think so, what then am I that eat him? It was but yesterday you sacrificed to me, for me your centers smoked; why do yo thus pass from one extreme to another? I was a god and am now a victim.'

This was such a reproach that gave no small trouble, however, one stroke, of the hatchet, solved the difficulty.

Hearing this, the folktown got the Piper's intentions, and said, 'Mayor, just pay him!' Everybody urged the same answer. And the commotion started. Seeing the situation, the Mayor said, 'This is something we need to think about, go home, and give us some time!'

Next day, in a corner of town, a group of people carried banners, and shouted, 'We don't agree to pay the Piper!' In another corner, other group exclaimed, 'Don't pay!' Another group, waving banners, 'Repel him!' And there were still several groups shouting the same banner. The townfolk, who didn't really know them, joined in. And start here and there shouting, the Piper had got to go. 

The Piper's face fell, and he cried, 'Fine! Go with your silly symphony! No trifling! I can't wait, beside I've promised to visit by dinner time, Bagdat, and accept the prime of the Head Cook's pottage, all he's rich in, for having left, in the Caliph's kitchen, no survivor of a nest of scorpions —with him I proved no bargain-driver, with you, don't think I'll bate a stiver! And folks who put me in a passion, may find me pipe after another fashion.'

'How?' cried the Mayor, 'D'ye think I'll brook, being worse treated than a Cook? Insulted by a lazy ribald with idle pipe and vesture piebald? You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, blow your pipe there till you burst!'

Once more, the Piper stepped into the street, and to his lips again, laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane. And ere he blew three notes—such sweet soft notes as yet musician's cunning that never gave the enraptured air.

There was a rustling, that seemed like a bustling of merry crowds, justling at pitching and hustling. Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, little hands clapping and little tongues chattering.

And, like fowls in a farmyard, when barley is scattering, out came the children running. All the little boys and girls, with rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, and sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, tripping and skipping, ran merrily after the wonderful music with shouting and laughter, singing,

You're no good, can't you see

Brother Louie, Louie, Louie

I'm in love - set you free

Oh, she's only looking to me

Only love breaks her heart

Brother Louie, Louie, Louie

Only love's paradise

Oh, she's only looking to me

Brother Louie, Louie, Louie

Oh, she's only looking to me

Oh, let it Louie

She is undercover

Brother Louie, Louie, Louie

Oh, doing what he's doing

So, leave it Louie

'Cause I'm her lover *)

The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood as if they were changed into blocks of wood, anable to move a step, or cry to the children that merrily skipping by. And could only follow with the eye that joyous crowd at the Piper's back. But how the Mayor was on the rack, and the wretched Council's bosoms beat, as the Piper turned from the High Street to where the Weser rolled its waters, right in the way of their sons and daughters!

However, he turned from South to West, and his steps addressed to Koppelberg Hill, and the children pressed after him, great was the joy in every breast.

'He never can cross that mighty top! He's forced to let the piping drop,

and we shall see our children stop!' the Mayor and and Council were looking for justification. When, lo, as they reached the mountain's side,

a wondrous portal opened wide, as if a cavern was suddenly hollowed, and the Piper advanced, then the children followed, afterwards when all were in to the very last, the door in the mountain-side shut fast."

The Moon was starting to fade, the dawn approaching, it's time to go, "So folks, let you and me be wipers of scores out with all men—especially pipers: And, whether they pipe us free, from rats or from mice, if we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise.

According to the Piper story, we are all the people of Misr, and act like them, and as ridiculously idolatrous. What are our passions and ambitions but taghoot, which as occasion serves, we sacrifice the one to the other. And Allah know best."

Citations & References:
- Robert Browning, The Pied Piper of Hamelin, George Routledge and Sons
- Sieur De La Motte, One Hundred New Court Fables, Peter-Nofter-Row
- J.B. Rundell, Aesop's Fables, Cassell, Petter and Galpin
*) "Brother Louie 98" written by Eric Singleton

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