The Angry Exile: An old queen comes to Melbourne

The Hangman

Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.
The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.
And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.
And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."
And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief
And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.
And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.
And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."
He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."
Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"
And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.
That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;
Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"
And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."
The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"
The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."
And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.
The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all
For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.
He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.
And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.
"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.
For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"
"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."
Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.

Maurice Ogden

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

An old queen comes to Melbourne - UPDATED

Oh, hooray. An elderly queen comes to visit Melbourne today, and no it's the proper one rather than a Priscilla variety so I shall be far too ~~overcome with patriotic pride in the monarchy~~ depressed to blog today. Normal ranting should be resumed late this evening as long as my natural curmudgeonly republicanism doesn't get me strung up with red, white and blue bunting or thown before the Royal Tram. Yes, the Royal Tram. No, I didn't know there was one either, and yes apparently we are supposed to so be ecstatic that a posh and very cashed up octogenarian tourist is going for a tram ride.

Melbourne's custom-designed royal tram has been unveiled on the eve of the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh's visit to Melbourne.

Custom designed? Really?

The newly-painted Z-class tram will carry the royal couple from Federation Square, along Swanston Street to Government House Drive tomorrow.
[...]
Premier Ted Baillieu said the specially prepared tram would remain in public operation for the next year in honour of the Queen's visit.

So "custom designed" means passing on tarting up one of Melbourne's remaining iconic W-class trams, the ones still running on the routes tourists tend to use because they just look so good, in favour of a circa 1980 built Z class with a new paint job which, since it's going to be used for normal passenger services as soon as she buggers off home, will be otherwise completely unmodified. Have I got that about right? Mind you, the last time I was on a W-class the bloody thing broke down, which is presumably why Oprah Winfrey had her boat race plastered across one of the big, new modern ones.

Anyway, for whatever reason Lizze's got the tram equivalent of shoulderpads and a mullet, albeit with a coat of paint (can't remember who but someone once remarked that the poor old dear probably thinks the whole world smells of fresh paint), but on the upside I'll bet everybody's too chickenshit to ask her to pay a fare. Even if she does I doubt anyone will check her ticket because despite seeing inspectors now and then in more than five years they've never checked mine.

UPDATE - Eating words time.

And like any other passenger the Queen had to pay her way, although her Australian equerry, Commander Andrew Willis, had the job of buying her ticket.
They used a myki - a pre-paid travel card - but it is not known if they chose the two-hour zone-one fare costing $3.80 or opted for the cheaper $2.80 dollar pensioner discount ticket.
Four mounted officers from Victoria Police escorted the royal tram which travelled at walking pace, during the eight minute journey.

Either way it's a bloody good deal. Even if they didn't go for the concession rate that means personal tram hire here comes out to $57 an hour, and that's got to be one of the best value things for visitors to do in Melbou... what? What do you mean it's not for everyone, just royalty?

Awwwwww!