He listened and looked. It was only the cat,
But the bishop he grew more fearful for that;
For she sat screaming, mad with fear
At the army of rats that was drawing near.
For they have swam o’er the river so deep,
And they have climbed the shore so steep,
And now by thousands up they crawl
To the holes and windows in the wall.
Down on his knees the bishop fell,
And faster and faster his beads did tell,
As louder and louder, drawing near,
The saw of their teeth without he could hear.
And in at the windows and in at the door,
And through the walls by thousands they pour,
And down through the ceiling and up through the floor
From within and without, from above and below,
And all at once to the bishop they go.
They have whetted their teeth against the stones,
And now they pick the bishop’s bones.
They gnawed the flesh from every limb.
For they were sent to do judgment on him.
So, tradition tells us, perished the wicked Bishop of Bingen. Some of the legends say that the rats which fell upon him were really
