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 [pa.s.sionately ]

_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 G.o.d!

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 [pa.s.sionately]

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 pa.s.sionate 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 h.o.a.rdings, 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! . . .