University of Virginia Library

Imperial Palace, Throne-Hall.
Council of State. Trumpets. Courtiers of every rank, splendidly dressed, enter. The Kaiser ascends the throne, on his right the Astrologer.
Kaiser.
Trusty and well-beloved, from far and near
Assembled, I am glad to meet you here.
I see the Wise Man at my side; but where's
The Fool?

Junker.
He stumbled as he climbed the stairs;
He trod too close upon the spreading train
Of the robe, and tripped. They bore him off amain;
But whether dead or drunk, who knows or cares?

Second Junker.
And lo! preferment comes apace.
Another's pushing for the place;
Tricked out in so superb a trim,
That every eye is fixed on him.
The palace guards would stop him fain,
And cross their halberds: all in vain.
See where he has got, fool-hardy fool!

Enter Mephistopheles drest as Court fool; he kneels at the foot of the throne.
Mephistopheles.
That which men execrate, yet welcome to them;
Long for, and yet would from their presence chase it;
Protect, and yet they say it will undo them;
Declaim against, deride, and still embrace it?
He, whom you may not call to your assistance,
Yet smile when any have to him alluded;
What from thy throne now stands at no great distance—
What from this circle hath itself excluded?

Kaiser
(to Mephistopheles).
Enough! your riddles here are out of place.
These gentlemen, in their own, have a hard case
To deal with; solve it for us if you can.
I should be too well pleased to have the man
Who could do that. My old Fool's gone, I fear,
To the—. Take his place at my side: stand here.

[Mephistopheles steps up and places himself at the Kaiser's left.
Murmurs of the Crowd.
A new fool! ... I like old things best.
How came he in? ... What interest?
Struck down at once. ... How he did sip!
That was a tub. ... And this a chip.

Kaiser.
Welcome, my well-beloved, from near and far,
Convened beneath this favourable star.
Who reads the heavens sees in the horoscope
Prosperity there written—Welfare, Hope.
Why, at such time when we would drown all cares
But of decorum beards and masquing dress—
When we would feast upon our happiness—
This Council about plaguy state affairs?
Yet if it can't but be so—and you see it
Fit that it should so be—why then SO BE IT!

[The Council being thus formally opened by the Kaiser, the Chancellor, who is also Archbishop, makes his Report on the general state of the Empire. His Report is followed by similar statements from the other High Functionaries.
Chancellor.

Heermeister.
How they do rave and rage in these wild days!
Everyone, everywhere—madness outright.
Command—aye, say command—when none obeys.
The burgher, safe within his walls—the knight,
Perched on his rocky nest, stand there defying
All we can do—on their own strength relying.
The hireling, for his pay, makes blustering claim.
They're with us yet; but were the debt
Once paid, 'tis little that we'd see of them.
Enforce, where all resist it, a command!
'Twere into a wasp's nest to thrust your hand.
The kingdom, which they should protect,
Look at it—devastated, plundered, wrecked!
We cannot pay them; and we must permit
Violence, rapine, wrong. All suffer it.
The Empire! What's the Empire? Half the lands
Utterly lost to us—in rebel hands.
And foreign princes, not one of them cares
For it or us: 'tis our concern, not theirs.

Treasurer.
Who on Allies can reckon? The supplies,
That were to have come in from our allies,
—Pipewater, when the conduit pipes are cut!
And, in your realm, is Property secure?
Go where one will, 'tis a new man keeps house;
One who would seem to have no object but
To hold his own, and with no thanks to us.
We must look on, and helplessly endure!
So many flowers of our prerogative
We have given away, scarce one remains to give;
And Parties—as they call them—little weight,
Now-a-days, place I on their love or hate.
Parties? where are they?—Ghibelline or Guelph?
Combine? combine! where each thinks but of self.
They scrape, they screw, and what they get they guard—
Our chests left empty, every gold-gate barred.

Marshal.
And what distress must I, too, bear?
Every day striving still to spare;
My efforts to retrench attended
With this result—that more's expended.
The cooks, they want for nothing: wild boars, bucks,
Does, hares, and hens and turkeys, geese and ducks.
Duty-rents paid in kind, we still can dine.
But what in the wide world to do for wine?
'Tis all out, how supply it—there's the rub.
'Tis not so long ago since, tub on tub,
It lay piled in the cellars—tun on tun,
Of the best vintage-years, and the best run
Of the best hill-slopes. Now, what with the drain
Of the nobles on it, who will never stop
Their swilling, I'm not left a single drop:
And the town-council, too, has tapped its store.
This too the nobles swill, and brawl for more;
They snatch at wine-cups—seize no matter what
Comes first to hand—drain goblet, pan, and pot,
Till under the broad table, bowl and beast
Fall mixed with broken relics of the feast.
I!—I must pay for all, provide for all.
The Jew! for me his pity is but small.
He his anticipation-bond prepares
Swallowing the years to come: he never spares.
The pigs—plague take them!—never come to brawn.
The very pillow on the bed's in pawn.
The loaves upon the table still to pay;
To-morrow's bread-stuff eaten yesterday!

Kaiser
(after some reflection, to Mephistopheles).
And, Fool, have you no grievance to propound?

Mephistopheles.
I?—None. Upon this splendour to look round—
With thee and thine and all this grand array
Around us!—Must not confidence arise?
—With such a prince, so ruling such a land;
With such a host, that so the foe defies;
With such intelligence at your command;
With such activity of enterprise—
Can any powers malevolent unite
For darkness where these stars are shedding light?

Murmurs.
The rascal's quick. ... Aye, up to trick—
Liar, romancer. ... When lies answer:
Be sure there's something in the wind; ...
Aye, something always lurks behind. ...
To me 'twould seem a settled scheme.

Mephistopheles.
Search the world round, and is there to be found
On earth one quiet corner that has not
A something wanting, which, are we unable
To come at it, makes life uncomfortable?
This man wants that thing, and that man wants this.
Here, our want is hard cash; and hard cash is,
When men most want it, cash hard to be got.
'Tis not a thing that from the streets you sweep;
It lies deep down, but Science lifts the deep.
In mountain veins—in walls—and underground—
Much gold in coins, or uncoined, may be found;
And, if you ask who brings this gold to light?—
The gifted man, ruling the Infinite
Of Nature, mighty in the Spirit's might.

Chancellor.
Nature and Spirit! Words that, in my mind,
No Christian man should utter; 'tis for this
That we burn atheists. Speeches of the kind
Are highly dangerous. Nature! aye—that is
Sin; Spirit—that means Devil;—and Devil and Sin—
A pretty pair they are!—true kith and kin—
Having a natural fancy for each other,
Have gendered what the world at once should smother—
The mis-shaped miserable monster Doubt—
Sexless, or double-sexed.
In the wide borders
Of the old Empire, two—and but two orders
To speak of—have risen up to guard the throne:
The Spiritualty and the Ritters; and they form
A sure protection against every storm,
And for their pay make Church and State their own.
Plebeian arrogance and self-willed spite
Lead some mad spirits to contest the right;
Dealers with fiends they are, and heretics:
Country and town infesting and destroying.
And these this jester, with his fool-born tricks,
Which you are unsuspiciously enjoying,
Is now to this high circle smuggling in.
To cling to reprobates itself is sin:
The scorners and court-fool are close akin.

Mephistopheles.
There spoke the veriest bigot of book-learning.
What you discern not, sir, there's no discerning:
All, that you touch not, stands at hopeless distance;
All, that you grasp not, can have no existence;
All, that eludes your weights, is base and light;
That, which you count not, is not counted right;
All measurement is false, but where you mete;
All coin without your stamp is counterfeit.

Kaiser.
These wise saws will not make our suffering less;
What mean you by this lengthened Lent-address?
I'm weary of this endless ‘if’ and ‘how;’
Get me the money—that's what we want now.

Mephistopheles.
Aye, all you want, and more; 'tis easy, yet
The Easy's difficult enough to get.
There's plenty of it—plenty—not a doubt of it—
In the' heart of the' earth, but how to get it out of it?
Think of the old days, when invading bands
Came like a deluge, swamping men and lands;
How natural it was that many should
Hide their best valuables where they could.
'Twas so in times of the old Roman sway:
So yesterday—and so it is to-day;—
And all lies dead and buried in the soil.
The soil is Cæsar's—his the splendid spoil.

Treasurer.
Not bad for a fool. It stands to reason quite:
The soil is doubtless the old emperor's right.

Chancellor.
His golden meshes Satan spreads, I fear;
And something more than good is busy here.

Marshal.
If what we want at court he'd only give,
I'd hazard th'other place in this to live.

Heermeister.
The fool's the man for us all. The soldier's dumb:
He takes his dollars—asks not whence they come.

Mephistopheles.
And if, perhaps, you fancy me a rogue,
Why not take counsel of the Astrologue?
There stands he—Truth itself;—reads what Heaven writes
Distinctly in the planetary lights—
Cycle encircling cycle, Hour and House—
And what he sees in Heaven will say to us.

Murmurs of the Crowd.
Rascals a pair!—they understand—
And play into each other's hand—
Phantast and Fool. Easily known
Why they two so beset the throne.
Aye, the old song—so often sung—
The fool suggests—the wise gives tongue.

Astrologer
speaks, Mephistopheles prompts.
The Sun himself is gold without alloy;
Swift Mercury, still at his sly employ,
For friends that pay speeds messages of joy.
Venus, with every man of you in love,
Early and late, keeps twinkling from above.
Coy Luna's whimsical; and Mars, belike,
With red glare threatens, but delays to strike;
And Jupiter is still the brightest star.
Dim glooms the mass of Saturn from afar:
Small to the eye, and small our estimate
Of him in value, vast as is his weight.
The world is cheered, when, in conjunction shines,
Luna with Sol—with silver, gold combines.
Anything else one wishes for or seeks—
Park, palace, pretty bosom, rosy cheeks—
Follows of course. This highly-learned man
Makes or procures it—what none else here can.

Kaiser.
A second voice upon my ear,
That doubles every sentence, rings—
The matter yet is far from clear,
And nothing like conviction brings.

Murmurs.
What's that to us? ... What wretched fuss—
Chemist and quack ... Old almanack.
I've heard it oft ... I was too soft;
And should it come—'Tis all a hum.

Mephistopheles.

Murmurs.
My foot—I cannot move about;
My arm is cramped ... 'Tis only gout;
And my big toe, it pains me so.
From all these signs, my mind divines
That here the treasure is.

Kaiser.
Come, no delay:
Escape for you is none. This very day
Shall bring these froth-lies of yours to the test.
Show us these chambers where these treasures rest.
I'll throw down sword and sceptre of command,
And labour with my own imperial hand;
Work heart and hand at the great enterprise:
But if all you are uttering be but lies—
As I do fear—I'll send you straight to hell.

Mephistopheles
(aside).
Broad is the way from this, as I know well.
(Aloud)
I have not words enough truly to tell
Of all the treasure everywhere that lies:
None claiming it—none knowing of such prize.
The peasant with his plough who scrapes the sod,
Sees a gold crock beneath the upturned clod,
Crusted and clammy—blesses his good luck
In having on a lump of nitre struck;
And, with delight and terror manifold,
Feels in his meagre hand, that scarce can hold
The treasure, rouleaus of gold—actual gold.
Down to what clefts—through what drear passages
Must he who knows of hidden treasure press
On the verge of the under-world! What vaults to be
Blown up!—what cellars, well secured: the sun
For ages has not seen them open thrown!
There golden salvers, goblets, beakers fair—
All for the sage—and ruby cups are there.
And, should he wish to use them—plenty of
Good old wine, too—I warrant you true stuff.
And you may credit me—I know it well—
The wood casks all are dust; and, strange to tell
The wine makes new ones of its own old crust.
And such wine—'tis not only gems and gold,
But the essential spirit of noblest wine
That night and horrors here imprisoned hold.
Here doth the Sage his search untired pursue.
Day has no light whereby deep truths to see,
In Darkness is the home of Mystery.

Kaiser.
Darkness and Mystery I leave to thee.
What's good for any thing will dare the day.
At night your rascal can sculk out of view—
When every cow is black and all cats grey.
Handle the plough, then; and let us behold
Your share turn up these pans and pots of gold.

Mephistopheles.
Take spade and hoe yourself. Throw off all state:
The labour of the peasant 'tis makes great.
A herd of golden calves shall from the soil
Start up—of earnest will and ardent toil
Instant reward! Enraptured then you may
Adorn yourself—adorn your lady gay.
Jewels in the imperial diadem
Add splendour to the monarch; the rich gem
Makes beauty lovelier in the coloured play
Of light.

Kaiser
(impatiently).
Quick! quick! how long, how long, will you delay?

Astrologer
(Mephistopheles prompting).
Sire! moderate this fervour of desire.
Best now the merry masquerade to act,
And end it. Double purposes distract.
Then thro' the Above, in self-communion learn,
The Under to deserve, and so to earn.
Who seeks for goodness, should himself be good;
For cheerfulness, should calm his fevered blood.
Tread hard the ripe grapes, if thy wish be wine;
If miracles, increasing faith be thine!

Kaiser.
Well, then! Ash Wednesday will, I trust, uphold
The promises you're giving me of gold.
I never did so long for Lent.
The Astrologer's advice is, after all,
The best; and so in merriment
Let the interval be spent.
We'll have our ball, whate'er befall,
And a gay time of carnival.

[Trumpets.—Exeunt.
Mephistopheles
(to the Audience).
You never can get fools to understand
How luck and merit still go hand in hand:
Your born fool never yet was Fortune's prizeman.
The stone of the philosopher,
In such hands, no great treasure were—
The wise man's talisman minus the wise man.