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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. The Sicilian's Tale; The Bell of Atri</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">At Atri in Abruzzo, a small town<br>Of ancient Roman date, but scant renown,<br>One of those little places that have run<br>Half up the hill, beneath a blazing sun,<br>And then sat down to rest, as if to say,<br>'I climb no farther upward, come what may,'--<br>The Re Giovanni, now unknown to fame,<br>So many monarchs since have borne the name,<br>Had a great bell hung in the market-place,<br>Beneath a roof, projecting some small space,<br>By way of shelter from the sun and rain.<br>Then rode he through the streets with all his train,<br>And, with the blast of trumpets loud and long,<br>Made proclamation, that whenever wrong<br>Was done to any man, he should but ring<br>The great bell in the square, and he, the King,<br>Would cause the Syndic to decide thereon.<br>Such was the proclamation of King John. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">How swift the happy days in Atri sped,<br>What wrongs were righted, need not here be said.<br>Suffice it that, as all things must decay,<br>The hempen rope at length was worn away,<br>Unravelled at the end, and, strand by strand,<br>Loosened and wasted in the ringer's hand,<br>Till one, who noted this in passing by,<br>Mended the rope with braids of briony,<br>So that the leaves and tendrils of the vine<br>Hung like a votive garland at a shrine. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">By chance it happened that in Atri dwelt<br>A knight, with spur on heel and sword in belt,<br>Who loved to hunt the wild-boar in the woods,<br>Who loved his falcons with their crimson hoods,<br>Who loved his hounds and horses, and all sports<br>And prodigalities of camps and courts;--<br>Loved, or had loved them; for at last, grown old,<br>His only passion was the love of gold. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He sold his horses, sold his hawks and hounds,<br>Rented his vineyards and his garden-grounds,<br>Kept but one steed, his favorite steed of all,<br>To starve and shiver in a naked stall,<br>And day by day sat brooding in his chair,<br>Devising plans how best to hoard and spare. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">At length he said: 'What is the use or need<br>To keep at my own cost this lazy steed,<br>Eating his head off in my stables here,<br>When rents are low and provender is dear?<br>Let him go feed upon the public ways;<br>I want him only for the holidays.'<br>So the old steed was turned into the heat<br>Of the long, lonely, silent, shadeless street;<br>And wandered in suburban lanes forlorn,<br>Barked at by dogs, and torn by brier and thorn. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">One afternoon, as in that sultry clime<br>It is the custom in the summer time,<br>With bolted doors and window-shutters closed,<br>The inhabitants of Atri slept or dozed;<br>When suddenly upon their senses fell<br>The loud alarm of the accusing bell!<br>The Syndic started from his deep repose,<br>Turned on his couch, and listened, and then rose<br>And donned his robes, and with reluctant pace<br>Went panting forth into the market-place,<br>Where the great bell upon its cross-beams swung,<br>Reiterating with persistent tongue,<br>In half-articulate jargon, the old song:<br>'Some one hath done a wrong, hath done a wrong!' </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But ere he reached the belfry's light arcade<br>He saw, or thought he saw, beneath its shade,<br>No shape of human form of woman born,<br>But a poor steed dejected and forlorn,<br>Who with uplifted head and eager eye<br>Was tugging at the vines of briony.<br>'Domeneddio!' cried the Syndic straight,<br>'This is the Knight of Atri's steed of state!<br>He calls for justice, being sore distressed,<br>And pleads his cause as loudly as the best.' </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Meanwhile from street and lane a noisy crowd<br>Had rolled together like a summer cloud,<br>And told the story of the wretched beast<br>In five-and-twenty different ways at least,<br>With much gesticulation and appeal<br>To heathen gods, in their excessive zeal.<br>The Knight was called and questioned; in reply<br>Did not confess the fact, did not deny;<br>Treated the matter as a pleasant jest,<br>And set at naught the Syndic and the rest,<br>Maintaining, in an angry undertone,<br>That he should do what pleased him with his own. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And thereupon the Syndic gravely read<br>The proclamation of the King; then said:<br>'Pride goeth forth on horseback grand and gay,<br>But cometh back on foot, and begs its way;<br>Fame is the fragrance of heroic deeds,<br>Of flowers of chivalry and not of weeds!<br>These are familiar proverbs; but I fear<br>They never yet have reached your knightly ear.<br>What fair renown, what honor, what repute<br>Can come to you from starving this poor brute?<br>He who serves well and speaks not, merits more<br>Than they who clamor loudest at the door.<br>Therefore the law decrees that as this steed<br>Served you in youth, henceforth you shall take heed<br>To comfort his old age, and to provide<br>Shelter in stall, and food and field beside.' </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The Knight withdrew abashed; the people all<br>Led home the steed in triumph to his stall.<br>The King heard and approved, and laughed in glee,<br>And cried aloud: 'Right well it pleaseth me!<br>Church-bells at best but ring us to the door;<br>But go not in to mass; my bell doth more:<br>It cometh into court and pleads the cause<br>Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws;<br>And this shall make, in every Christian clime,<br>The Bell of Atri famous for all time.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</a></strong></div>