University of Virginia Library

Pleasure Garden.
Morning Sun—The Kaiser—his Court—Faustus and Mephistopheles—(drest becomingly in the usual Court dress of the day). Both kneel. Marshal, Heermeister, Treasurer, Pages, Feudal Lord, and Court Fool.
Faustus.
Sire, pardon you of flames this magic show?

Kaiser.
Oh! that I often were deluded so!
All of a sudden a new realm I trod,
Seemed of the world of fire the very God;
Coal-rocks, more black than night, for ever fed
Bright flamelets, bursting from that marble bed;
While here and there from seething gulfs would rise
A thousand flames that whirled into the skies,
Where, playing loose in air, they hung aloof,
Flickered and waved, and formed a vaulted roof;
Whence tongues of light, that intermingling crost,
Gave to the eye a dome, now seen, now lost.
Between far fire-shafts, wreathed with curling flame,
Long lines of nations, onward moving, came
Toward me: in wide rings streamed the pressing crowd—
My subjects all—and all to me in homage bowed.
And evermore some courtier's well-known face,
'Mong the strange visages that thronged the place,
Would catch my glance, and claim a moment's grace.
With thousand salamanders circled round,
I seemed the prince of that enchanted ground.

Mephistopheles.
Thou art! The Elements owe thee allegiance!
Fire! thou hast tested it—gave prompt obedience.
Throw thee into the boiling Ocean's waves,
And straightway all sea-spirits are thy slaves!
Here, too, in pride of conquest, shalt thou tread
Triumphantly the ocean's pearl-strewn bed;
See billows ever round thee rise and fall,
And guard thee with their undulating wall.
The tender green waves, purple-tinged, are swelling
To form in the drear deep thy royal dwelling.
The billows do thee homage. Through the brine
A palace moves with every step of thine.
The walls are happy in the magic gift
Of life, exulting as, with arrow-swift
To and fro gambollings, their place they shift.
And the sea-monsters float up from their caves,
To the mild lustre glimmering thro' the waves,
Throng to the light, till now unseen; but they
Fear to come nearer thee, and dart away:
And dragons, golden-scaled, their high crests rear,
And sharks, whose jaws gape wide, but cause no fear.
Thou art a prince! but ne'er on Levee-day
Hast thou beheld so brilliant a display.
Beauty smiles on thee! the Nereidés
Come to the very windows, if you please,
Of the fresh-water palace in the seas—
The young ones, shy and rather curious fish,
The older, sober girls as one could wish.
Thetis has heard it—holds out hands and lips:
A second Peleus will the first eclipse;
—Then on Olympus height thy place to be!

Kaiser.
The realms of Air I'd rather leave to thee;
We are in no hurry to ascend that throne.

Mephistopheles.
And Earth, great prince, already is thine own.

Kaiser.
Through what good fortune have I chanced upon
This wonder of the Thousand Nights and One?
If, like Sheherazadé, most prolific
Of story-tellers, you would every day
Give something new—oh! that were a specific
'Gainst dullness that I never could repay.
Be ready still with such delightful tales
Of wonder when despondency prevails,
And cares upon the sinking spirit weigh—
Still cheer me when all else to cheer me fails.

Marshal
(steps hastily in).
May it please your Highness, I had never thought
That it at any time could be my lot
Such joyous tidings to communicate
As fill me now with rapture—every debt
Has been paid off, the usurers' claws are dulled,
My tortures—sharper than hell's torments—lulled.
There can not be in heaven a happier man.

Heermeister
(follows hastily).
The army's paid whatever had been due,
The soldiers to their colours pledged anew,
The merry Lanzknecht's got a large advance,
And girls and vintners bless the lucky chance.

Kaiser.
You breathe more freely, and your care-worn face
Has actually assumed a cheerful grace;
And what a step!—why, I protest, you run!

Treasurer
(entering).
Ask these men, they will tell what they have done.

Faustus.
The chancellor will please to state the case;
It falls in with the duties of his place.

Chancellor
(advancing slowly).
Who could have ever dreamed such happiness
Would come the days of my old age to bless.
Listen! and look upon the heaven-sent leaf,
That into joy hath changed a people's grief.
(Reads)
—‘To all whom it concerneth, and so forth:—
This note of hand, that purports to be worth
A thousand crowns, subjects to such demand
The boundless treasure buried in the land.
And furthermore, said treasure underground,
To pay said sum is, whensoever found,
And wheresoever, firmly pledged and bound.’

Kaiser.
Audacity unheard of!—foul deceit!
Who signed the emperor's name to such vile cheat?
What punishment can for such crime atone?

Treasurer.
Forget you, Sire, the writing is your own?
This last night you were in the character
Of Pan: we saw the Chancellor prefer
The suit. He said, ‘A few strokes of your pen
Will bless the people over whom you reign.
Do make them happy on this festal night.’
And then you did take up the pen and write.
No time was lost. A thousand artists plied,
A thousand-fold the scroll was multiplied;
And that the good to every one might fall,
We stamped at once the series, one and all.
Tens—thirties—fifties—hundreds off we strike!
Never was anything that men so like:
Your city, mouldering and in despair,
Has caught new life, and joy is everywhere.
Long as your name was by the world held dear,
Never did it so brightly shine as here—
The alphabet! what is it to this sign?—
To this ‘hoc signo vinces’ note of thine?

Kaiser.
For good gold, then, in court and camp it passes,
And for good gold is taken by the masses?
I must permit it, tho' it does seem odd.

Marshal.
The papers flying everywhere abroad—
Stop it—oh yes!—the lightning flashes stop—
At every banker's booth and money-shop,
For each leaf you can have (deducting still
Some discount) gold and silver, if you will.
Then off with you to butcher and to baker,
Vintner, and such like—tailor, sausage-maker.
Half the world passes—wealth is such a blessing—
Its days in feasting—the other half in dressing.
Flaunting in their new clothes—show their new riches—
The mercer cuts away—the stitcher stitches—
And ‘long live Cæsar!’ blurts out, 'mid the ringing
Of plates—of boiling, broiling, swearing, singing.

Mephistopheles.
And he who walks alone the public ways,
And fixes on the fairest there his gaze,
And sees her move, with bland attractiveness,
In all the splendour of imposing dress;
The peacock's proud plume shades one eye, the while
She smirks, and simpers by with meaning smile—
Methinks she sees, and seems to understand
The import of this little note of hand.
Aye! and it wins from her, as by a spell,
The favours that my lady has to sell.
When words are weak, and wit all out of joint.
'Tis this that brings a woman to the point:
Close in the bosom, hidden there from view,
It lies so nicely in a billet-doux.
The priest—he now no purse or scrip need bear—
Devoutly folds it in his Book of Prayer.
The soldier moves more freely, at his loins
No longer carrying a weight of coins.
Pardon me, Sire; on such details to dwell,
No doubt seems trifling with the miracle.

Faustus.
The treasure that within the land lies deep,
Entranced, as 'twere, in an enchanted sleep,
Frozen and fixed—useless, while unemployed—
This may be disemprisoned, be enjoyed.
Man, in imagination's boldest hour,
To reach such treasure's limit has no power.
The intellect strives ever, strives in vain,
Some dim anticipation to attain;
But Spirits grasp it—see beyond the sense—
Have in the Boundless boundless confidence.

Mephistopheles.
An easy substitute for gold and pearls
This paper is, and its convenience such,
We know at once how little, and how much
We have: no need of testing and of weighing;
No chaffering, cheapening, proving, or assaying
But to the vintner's, or the merry girl's,
Off with us! Wish we specie—little danger
Of waiting long to find a money-changer.
At worst it is but digging—in a trice
You shovel up cup and trinkets plenty; call
An auction, for the bill make quick provision,
To the discomfiture and shame of all
Who looked upon our project with derision.
Once used to them, men will have nothing but
These leaves—so easy to receive and spend;
And the realm circulates, from this hour out,
Jewels, and gold, and paper to no end.

Kaiser
(to Faustus and Mephistopheles).
You've done the state some service, and a meed
Appropriate to such service I've decreed.
We do appoint you now, of our good pleasure,
Our custodees of subterranean treasure.
Wealth from all other eyes that Earth holds hid,
Guard; let none dig or delve but as you bid.
(To the Officers of the Treasury.)
And, Treasurers, as behoves in your high place,
Aid with becoming dignity and grace.
Thus shall we see, with profit and delight,
The Upper- and the Under-world unite.

Treasurer.
No danger, Sire, of discord or debate,
Or deficit, now that my happy fate
Makes the magician my associate.

[Exit with Faustus.
Kaiser.
If I distribute gifts among my court,
How will they use them? let each tell me now.

First Page
(receiving his gift).
I'll pass my life in gaiety and sport.

Second Page
(receiving).
I'll buy a frontlet for my lady's brow:
Rings in her ear and on her hand shall shine.

Chamberlain
(taking his present).
I'll drink two flasks for one, and better wine.

Another.
The dice, I feel them—and the itch of play.

Feudal Lord
(thoughtfully).
I'll free my castle from its debts to-day.

Another.
A treasure!—yes, a treasure!—with the rest
I'll hoard it up securely in a chest.

Kaiser.
I thought to have waked the ardour that inspires
Bold enterprise—new deeds and new desires.
Wealth leaves you each employed at his old game—
The same! I should have known you—still the same.

(The Court Fool, who had been supposed dead, presents himself.)
Fool
(approaching).
You shower down gifts, let me have part of the shower.

Kaiser.
What! you alive! you'd drink them in an hour.

Fool.
Drink?—magic leaves! I comprehend you not.

Kaiser.
Strange if you did! you'd use them badly, sot!

Fool.
There, more are dropping—I do not know what
To do.

Kaiser.
Do! take them, they fell to your lot.
[Exit Kaiser.

Fool.
Five thousand crowns! the words are written plain.

Mephistopheles.
What, two-legged bladder, on thy feet again?

Fool.
Aye! down, then up, seldom so well as now.

Mephistopheles.
How glad you look, the sweat runs down your brow.

Fool.
And is this money? look at it; what do you think?

Mephistopheles.
Money, no doubt of it, and meat and drink.

Fool.
And will it buy me corn, land, house, and kine?

Mephistopheles.
No doubt of it: bid only, they are thine.

Fool.
Castle and park, and forest, fish-pond, chase?

Mephistopheles.
All these—and then the title of Your Grace.

Fool.
I'll have the castle; sleep to-night in it.

[Exit.
Mephistopheles
(alone).
Who but will now acknowledge our fool's wit?