The Cardinal And The Dog

Browning wrote this poem in 1842 for Macreadys son, who was ill. He had also written the Pied Piper of Hamelin at the same time.     Crescenzio, the Popes Legate at the High Council, Trent,     Year Fifteen hundred twenty-two, March Twenty-five, intent     On writing letters to the Pope till late into the night,     Rose, weary, to refresh himself, and saw a monstrous sight:     (I give mine Authors very words: he penned, I reindite.)     A black Dog of vast bigness, eyes flaming, ears that hung     Down to the very ground almost, into the chamber sprung     And made directly for him, and laid himself right under     The table where Crescenzio wrote, who called in fear and wonder     His servants in the ante-room, commanded every one     To look for and find out the beast: but, looking, they found none.     The Cardinal fell melancholy, then sick, soon after died:     And at Verona, as be lay on his death-bed, he cried     Aloud to drive away the Dog that leapt on his bedside.     Heaven keep us Protestants from harm: the rest . . . no ill betide!