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