University of Virginia Library

ACT SECOND.

A subterranean garden blooms, in the mountain deeply shrouded,
With trees of sparkling metal bright, and radiant leafage crowded.
There copper, iron, lead and tin, aloft in air are gleaming,
And rarest fruits on every bough with wondrous sheen are beaming.
For some are white as milk, and some like crystal sparkle gaily:
Blood-red are some, and others like the coral blushing palely;
Green, violet, yellow, blue and brown, in many a varied cluster,
Within this beauteous garden shine with bright and fiery lustre.
The fruits of white are pearls, the bright are diamonds, and the flaming
Are rubies bloody red of hue, all other hues outshaming.
The grass is grown of emerald, and 'mongst the tree-roots creeping,
With their azure light, the sapphires bright, like forget-me-nots are peeping.
And all around that wondrous ground, now clustering and now single,
The agate and pale amethyst, and glowing garnet mingle;
Through the trees along, with cheery song, a sparkling brook is straying,
It prattles well, though none may tell what that little brook is saying;
And in a niche, with smoke begrimed, and damp, and looking meanly,
Doth burn the lamp, the wonderful, with steady light serenely.
And bright as day its lonely ray that wondrous garden maketh,
For every gleam on gold or gem in a thousand sparkles breaketh.

Chorus of Mountain Spirits.
Hark to the thunder!
The levin has broke,
And rifted asunder
The rock with its stroke!

Voices
(soft and afar off).
Life, glowing and fair to see,
Is coming to our lifeless bower;
His shall the best of our treasures be,
His be our garden's goodliest flower.

Voice of the Lamp.

Voices of the Trees.
And thou wilt go, and leave us here in sadness!
No longer shall our fruits a radiance shed;
What beauty will be left, what lustre—gladness,
When from the cave thy magic light hath fled?

Voice of the Lamp.

Aladdin
(who starts on entering, and looks round).
Oh me! what a strange garden! All the trees
Full of such pretty fruit! Ripe, rosy apples,
Green-gages, peaches with a purple bloom,
And oranges like flame, white gooseberries,
And, oh me! grapes!—some blue as heaven itself,
And others clear as water in a stream.
How sweetly winds the little brook through all!
Oh, what a pity there is ne'er a bird
To warble in and out among the leaves!
How very still it is! What pretty flowers,
Yellow and filigreed, like ruddy gold!
Ha, what tremendous lilies! How they shine,
As though each leaf were out of silver carved!
I'll smell to one of them! They have no smell!
How comes it now they have no smell, I wonder?
My uncle, I must own, was in the right;
This sort of thing is only worth a look,
And then good bye.—But, see! there hangs the lamp!
How strangely does its steady gleam light up
All round about, and make it beautiful!
My uncle is the oddest sort of man.
What wants he with the lamp? These fruits, I'm sure,
Are better far, and prettier. Heaven preserve me!
Saw ever mortal such a bunch of grapes!
Oh, what a size! Oh, shan't I have a feast?
I am so thirsty.—So, here goes at them!
My uncle gave me leave. How! What is this?
Dear me! these are no ordinary grapes,—
They're nothing but mere glass! Let's try again!
These red ones may taste better, possibly.—
How! Still mere glass? Well, this beats everything!
All these fine things are nothing else but glass.
Ha, ha, ha! This is too ridiculous!
I made my mind up, they were luscious fruit,
And they are only stones! Oh, what a cheat!
Since this is so, 'twere best get home again
As quickly as we can; the victuals there
Are bad and scanty; still they have a relish.
These glistening stones are wonderfully fine,
And to my comrades when I show them off,
How they will stare at their magnificence!
I'll pluck as many as my clothes will hold.
Mashallah! I am pack'd and laden like
A camel for a jaunt across the desert.
Now to be off! Yet, stay,—Good gracious me!
I very nearly had forgot the lamp!
And then my uncle would have cuff'd me finely.
(he takes it from the niche).
So, come this way, old battered trumpery!
Had I my will, I'd rather let thee hang.
I'll not put out the light, though, till I see
The daylight through the opening again.
This cave is certainly the prettiest place!
There hangs a plum, of such a brilliant blue,
I should so like to take it with the rest.
And now farewell, thou daintiest of glass shops!
I must away—my uncle waits for me.

[Exit.
The narrow Pass between the Rocks.
Noureddin
(stands at the entrance of the cave, he bends down and listens).
At length, at length he comes! I hear his step!
'Tis manifest he bears a heavy load.
He's weighted with the stones, and can't get on.
No matter! Once the lamp is in my hands,
I'll fling this incense on the fire, and speak
The magic word, then all shuts up again.
I'll not be tortured by the ceaseless dread,
That through this boy's simplicity, whose soul
Stands like an empty chest agape to all,
My secret should be bruited to the world.
He comes! No more! Let Destiny decide!

Aladdin
(still in the cave).
Here I am, uncle! Let me have your hand,
It is so steep here.

Noureddin.
Give me first the lamp,
My own dear boy, and then I'll help you up.

Aladdin.
I've such a load of pretty pebbles here
Within my kaftan, and beneath them all
Lies the old lamp. So, pray just help me out!

Noureddin.
You stupid booby! let your rubbish drop,
And hand me up the lamp! What! playing off
Your childish pranks again! The lamp, I say!

Aladdin
(to himself).
He makes me first go down like any fool
To fetch him up a trumpery rusty lamp,
And, when that's done, and on the way I've pick'd
Some score of pretty stones up for myself,
He'll not so much as let me take them home.
(Aloud.)
You shall not have it till I'm out again!

Noureddin
(restraining himself, and with a gentle voice).
Boy, take your toys and gewgaws from your kaftan,
And let me have the lamp at once! You can
Pick up the stones again.

Aladdin.
Good gracious, sir!
Why should you ask me such a thing? Why not
Wait till I'm fairly out? 'Tis very strange,
The staircase should so suddenly have vanished.
Come, uncle!—come, be quick!—give me your hand!

Noureddin.
That I will not, until I have the lamp.

Aladdin.
Then I can scramble out without your aid.

[He is nearly out, when Noureddin in a rage strikes him, and throws some incense upon the fire.
Noureddin.
Close up once more, ye ruthless rocky walls!
He shall not reap the harvest of my toil.
[The mountain closes. He gazes steadily for awhile upon the place where the entrance to the cave had been; then heaving a deep sigh, he sits down exhausted upon a boulder of rock.
What were the words of the old minstrel's lay?
“Fain wouldst thou grasp—Hope's portal shuts amain!”
Why was I so impatient in my wrath?
What evil spirit did o'ermaster me?
'Tis done, and, being done, is past recal.
This fortune, then, was not designed for me.
(Starts up.)
Despair I shall not—no, though baffled now!
Before the power of will shall nature bow.
Home, home to Africa I haste once more,
And there anon renew my mystic lore.
By strenuous toil a power evoke I will,
To be the bond-slave of my wizard skill.
This stake is play'd and lost. Boy, greet thy fate,
And with thy life thy rashness expiate!

[Exit.
The Cavern.
Aladdin
(enters, feeling about in the dark; stumbles, and falls down exhausted).
Oh, dearest uncle! open, open pray!
I'll do whate'er you ask—indeed I will!
Oh, good—oh, best of uncles!—open, do!
Already he is far away! Oh heaven!
How many a tear shall I be forced to weep
In this dark, dismal, dog-hole of a place!
Ha! thou art not mine uncle! No,—thou art
A wicked wizard, full of tricks and snares,
That joys in leading simple lads astray,
And takes a fiendish pleasure in their death.
Yah, thou gaunt, livid scarecrow! Holy Prophet!
Bring me deliverance from this bitter strait!
Have I been guilty of so great a crime
As to deserve such heavy chastisement?
My father died,—but how was I to blame?
Oh, dear, good Allah! rescue me, I pray,
And leave me not to die of hunger here!
(He drops for a few seconds into powerless silence, and listens; and then says quietly with a childish distraction)
How strangely does the brook, in the big garden,
Run on and sing, and sing and still run on!
So was it flowing long long years ago,—
Ay, many hundred years ere I was born.
Hark to the trickling from the stalactites
High up upon the roof!—There, there it drops,
Still with the self-same sound! Plump, plump, plump, plump!
Will it ne'er have an end?—Hark! there again?

[The monotonous sound lulls him gradually into a sweet sleep.
Two Fairies
glide through a cleft of the rock, each with a flaming torch in her hand; they bend over Aladdin and regard him tenderly.
The First
(softly).
Look at the boy, how he smiles in his sleep!

The Second
(pityingly).
Who hath made him a pillow so stony and steep?

The First.
How comes one so blest in the mountain to be?

The Second.
Far fairer than dwarf or than fairy is he!

The First.
What bloom! Ah, what sweetness!

The Second.
What exquisite shape!

The First.
See! sighs from his breast, as he slumbers, escape!

The Second.
One kiss—oh, delicious!

The First.
His cheeks are aflame!

The Second.
Hush!—he wakens!

The First.
Alas! we must hence as we came.

[They vanish.
Aladdin
(looking up).
How? Still shut up within this dismal cave?
What ice-cold lips, as of a corpse, touched mine?
'Tis death has kissed me. I am faint for food.
Ha! cursed fruits, that are but glass and stone,
And prompt the hunger ye cannot appease!
(Springs up.)
I will go drink some water at the brook.
I cannot! A great rock has fallen between.
Oh Allah then have mercy on my soul!

[He strikes the ring which he received from Noureddin against the rock; a sparkle of light leaps from the stone, remains burning upon the ground, and illumines the cave.
The Spirit of the Ring
appears in the form of a giant, and asks, in a voice of thunder,
What wouldst thou with me? Say!
For thee I must obey.
A sovereign's right hast thou;
Thy slave, to thee I bow.
Nor only I must be
Obedient unto thee;
But every slave, where'er
He be, in earth or air,
That serves the ring, at thy
All-potent spell must fly.

Aladdin
(on his knees, with clasped hands).
Ah most tremendous Djin! if thou wouldst save
A wretched child, as I am sure thou canst,
Transport me from this miserable hole
To my dear mother's house in Ispahan.

The Spirit.
Freely give order,
Ruler and lord,
And spirits all-potent
Will come at thy word.
Anon with swift pinion
I'll bear thee on high,
And far o'er the snow-peaks
Of Caucasus fly.
O'er mountain and under,
Transport thee I can;
Through the air, o'er the forest,
To Ispahan.

[Vanishes with Aladdin.
Before a Gate of Ispahan.
Sunrise.
Enter Aladdin, his pockets filled with the precious stones of the cave.
Aladdin.
My head is all aspin. Well! such a journey
I never made in all my life before!
He caught me by the waist; the parting air
Around me flow'd, like water in the bath.
In the clear moonshine, what a height he flew!
And oh, how strangely small the earth became!
Great Ispahan itself, with all its lights,
That in the distance one by one went out,
Looked like a bit of paper which we burn,
And see the boys all running out of school.
In a wide circle round the sky he wheeled,
That I might view the wide expanse of earth,
Bathed in the magic moon's transparent beams.
I never shall forget how far he flew
O'er Caucasus, and rested on its peak,
Then swept sheer down upon the plain, as though
He meant to plunge me in Euphrates deep.
A tall three-decker flew before the gale
Upon the chafing sea;—thither he sped,
And resting with his toe upon the mast,
He, like a pillar, poised himself in air,
And there, secure as though he trod the ground,
He held me in one hand aloft to heaven.
Then when the moon, as pale as any ghost,
Vanished before the earliest flush of dawn,
Straightway he changed into a purple cloud,
And dropped down with me softly as the dew,
'Mongst the small flowers, close by the city gate.
This done, transformed again, he soared, a lark,
And vanished twittering in the azure air.
Oh me! I'm faint and weary;—now, for home!
How will my mother stare and gape at me!
I hope she has some victuals in the house,
For I am hungry, ravenously hungry!

[Exit.
A Room.
Morgiana. Aladdin (seated at a table, eating).
Morgiana.
My son, eat slowly! Do not bolt your food
So very fast! Pause for a little while!
There—take a drink! Spill not the precious meat,
And do not smudge your kaftan with the fat.
Ah! we get nothing from our children, nothing,
But care and cark!—Where Allah children sends,
There, too, He sends vexation. I made sure,
Our days of care and trouble were gone by,
And that you were to turn out something great,—
That when you were a merchant, I should sit
Beside you always, selling of my yarn.
And wherefore not? Allah confound thee, thou
Accursed magician, for the whole affair!

Aladdin.
Yes, mother, was it not a scurvy trick,
To shut me up in such a way? To leave me,
Without remorse, to perish of starvation?

Morgiana.
And, what was worse than all, to box your ears,
And send you spinning clean heels over head.
The saucy jack! Marry, who gave him leave,
To punish other people's children, eh?
A scurvy rogue!

Aladdin.
Look ye, good mother mine,
What's past is past, and cannot be recalled.
While here am I, so very hungry still,
I positively must have more to eat.

Morgiana.
Alas, dear child, there's nothing in the house.
My little bit of supper I had saved,
And hoped, 'twould be enough to stay your cravings.
I have no money either, to get more,
Until I sell the yarn that I am spinning.

Aladdin.
That's in the last degree unfortunate.
I always have a monstrous appetite
After a walk. But stay,—a lucky thought!
Reserve your yarn, dear mother, yet awhile,
And hand me that old rusty copper lamp,
Which I brought home with me. A coppersmith
Will give us for it, take it at the worst,
What will procure us two good meals at least.

Morgiana.
Well, here it is! But who will buy such trash?
It looks for all the world as it had lain
Unscrubb'd for centuries in dirt and mire.
They must be perfect pigs, these elfin folk,
That live inside the mountains! Who can tell,
If it be made of ordinary metal.
I'll scour it up a little bit, and then
If you can manage to dispose of it,
So much the better; if not, you must wait,
And curb your appetite until to-morrow.

[Takes a cloth, and wets it, then dipping it in sand, she begins to scour.
The Spirit of the Lamp,
a giant of beautiful aspect, rises out of the ground.
Scour not with such force and fury; I am here at thy command:
Swiftly speed I when thou callest, swiftly as the lightning's brand;
Every spirit of the Earth, too, eager is, nor I alone,
Thy behests, the lamp's great mistress, to fulfil as soon as known.

Morgiana.
Oh holy Prophet! Help me!—help, help, help!

(swoons).
Aladdin
recovers himself, seizes the lamp, and says,
Ah, dear good devil! I am mighty hungry!
Get me some dinner only now, and I
Will do you a kind turn some other time.
(The Spirit vanishes, but immediately re-appears with a large silver tray upon his head, in which are twelve silver dishes full of the most choice viands; six white loaves upon platters, and two flasks of rare wine and two glasses. All these he places on the table and vanishes. Aladdin looks on in amazement for a time. At last his appetite gives him courage; he advances slowly to the table, lifts the covers from some of the dishes, and then exclaims, full of delight and admiration, as one by one he tastes all the dishes)
How? Roast meat? Soup? Rice exquisitely boiled?
Pastry and fruit besides? Fish, pheasants too,—
The dish of dishes that I like the best?
A spirit this of taste, and no mistake!
He's hit my fancy to a nicety.
(Suddenly dejected.)
But, mighty Mahomet, they're not, I hope,
Glass, like the fruit in the enchanted garden!
(Eats.)
No, Heaven be praised! 'Tis all good honest meat,
The best of beef, and with a savoury sauce.
(sits down at table).
Here goes,—in Allah's name! But, gracious me!
Where is my mother? Ah, she tumbled down
As soon as the great giant showed himself.
Ho! mother!—ho! get up, and come to dinner!
He's fairly gone—he is. Rise, mother, rise!—
If she won't rise, why, I suppose I must,
Just when I was so nicely seated, too.—
(Rises.)
There's nothing perfect in this vale of tears.
(Shakes her.)
Ho! mother,—ho! What fancy can you have
For lying in the dirt? How's this? My God!
She is not, surely, dead? Oh, gracious Heaven!
Father and mother both cut off so soon!
[Runs to the table, fetches a jug of water, and putting some meat into his mouth, returns and dashes the contents of the jug in her face.
Ah, dearest mother! do recover, pray;
If, like my father, you are dead and gone,
I shan't enjoy a single morsel more.

Morgiana
(opens her eyes).
Oh, good and kind Sir Spirit, spare me, spare!

Aladdin.
He's gone long since. Why, mother, can't you see
The difference 'twixt your own child and a spirit?

Morgiana.
Aladdin, did you see the phantom, too?

Aladdin.
Of course I did.

Morgiana.
Ah, 'twas your blessed father,
Or I am much mistaken.

Aladdin.
Then you are.
No tailor's ghost was ever such a size,
You take my word for that!

Morgiana
(gets up).
When did he go?

Aladdin.
He brought this dinner, and then took his leave.

Morgiana.
What! He, the ghost, bring all these dainty things!

Aladdin.
Yes, mother! There! Fall to, and with a will!

Morgiana.
Into the dust-hole with them, every scrap!

Aladdin.
No, I am not so mad. Come, come now, mother,
You only try how nice the victuals taste.

Morgiana.
I will taste nothing, not a morsel I.
Ah me! I've gone through many a strait in life;
I'm old, and have seen strange things in my time,
But anything like this I never knew.
We learn, they tell us, every day we live.
But say, my blessed boy, how it fell out
That this appalling incident occurred.

Aladdin.
That's plain enough. Because you scoured the lamp.

Morgiana.
And so the lamp's to blame for this mischance?
Go, sell it—sell it any how you can!
I shall not have a moment's peace as long
As it is in the house.

Aladdin.
Good gracious, mother!
Sell the lamp now? What? Part with such a treasure?
No, mother, no; collect your scattered wits;
The fever's on you still. Mischance, indeed?
A most astonishing mischance, no doubt!
When I've a mind for pheasants, roast-meat, cakes,
And all the choicest dainties of the season,
'Tis but to rub a little verdigris
From this same lamp, and lo! I have my wish!

Morgiana.
Oh my dear son, just for a moment think,
That this is devilry and nothing else;
And 'tis enjoined us by the prophet's law,
To hold the devil and his imps at bay.

Aladdin.
But I have always heard, that devils were
Wicked and mischievous; but this of ours
Is such an honest soul, that he might pass
Most fairly for an angel at a pinch.
'Faith, I am much mistaken, if this lamp
Is not a blessing sent us by the Prophet.
Now, now I comprehend why the magician,
Sly rascal, was so bent on getting it,
And why he called it queer old trumpery.
Just such a spirit saw I once before.
Heaven only knows, what way he came; but I,
Somehow or other, must have rubb'd the lamp;
And him, and him alone I have to thank
For my release from the dark dreary cave!
'Twere shame to recompense the good with ill,
And to despise the spirits that befriend us,
Just when we're driven into the hardest straits.
Look now, what handsome dishes! Silver all!
One of the plates I'll in my kaftan take,
And straightway sell it somewhere in the town;
So with the rest, till I have sold them all;
For, mother, it would not be right, you know,
To call the spirit sooner than we need.
Come, now, do take some victuals on your plate!

Morgiana.
After this fright I could not touch a scrap.
As for yourself, my son, do what you please:
I wash my hands of it: I'll have no part,
Not I, in any of your wizard tricks.

Aladdin.
No more you shall, so never fret your heart.
I'll soon be back. And now to sell the plate!

[Exit.
A Street.
Aladdin, with a silver plate. An old Jew.
Jew.
A fair good morning, sweet young gentleman!
Hey, anything to sell? You've something there
Behind your kaftan; I can see you have.
You want to sell it? Well, friend, I can buy
As well as other men, of course I can.

Aladdin.
That's to be seen. Say, how much will you give
For this fine silver dish?

Jew
(makes a grasp at it).
A silver dish!
Silver, of course. He, he, my good young friend!
Tin, tin more likely. Let me look at it!

Aladdin.
Out of my hand I part not with the dish,
Till you have paid me for't. I know you Jews.
When you had got it, you might run away,
And say it was your own.

Jew.
Oh holy Moses!
How can he slander honest people so!
But how much might you want, now, for the dish?

Aladdin.
What will you give?

Jew.
Oh, is that all you know
Of doing business, friend? The seller first
Must name his price, and then the buyer bargains.

Aladdin.
Oh, I've no skill in chaffering, not I.
Say, at a word, how much you'll let me have,
And I will trust you for your honest looks.

Jew
(eyes attentively first the plate and then Aladdin).
My honest looks! That's fairly said. He thinks,
There's still some honesty left in the world.
A nice young man,—a very nice young man!
But not extremely wide awake, I'd say.

Aladdin.
Well, Jew, what do you offer for the dish?

Jew.
Na, it is good—all real silver! But
A man may buy even gold too dear, you know.
(Takes hesitatingly a gold coin from his pocket, to try Aladdin.)
What do you say, now, to a piece like this?

Aladdin
(takes it).
I'm perfectly contented. (Aside.)
It is gold!
I'm half afraid lest he, on second thoughts,
Should think his bargain dear, and want to get
His money back again; so, I'll be off!

[Exit.
Jew
(calls after him).
Hark ye, young man! Already gone! Woe's me,
He fancies I might think my bargain dear.
Hog that I was,—dog—idiot—stupid dolt!
He would have sold it me for half the money;
Ay, for the quarter of it; yea, the sixth, (Shouts.)

Ho! Stop him, catch the thief! He's out of sight.
Ha, thou old hunx! thou stupid addlebrains!
(Looks at the plate.)
Sure it is well worth sixty times as much
As I gave for it. Excellent, fine silver!
Perhaps he may have more to sell. Go to!
The chance is past; what boots it now to whine?
The thing is done!—Ah Moses, what disgrace
For an old rogue like me to be outdone
By such a green young simpleton as that!

[Exit.
A Khan.
Merchants seated round about, smoking and drinking coffee.
Ali and Bedreddin
(at the window).
Look! there's the young man coming down the street;
I mean the handsome fellow, who came here
Two days ago and yesterday. Across the street
With the high turban and the dandy kaftan!

Bedreddin.
A handsome fellow, truly!

Ali.
I am told,
That not long since that youth was to be seen
Playing with ragged urchins in the streets;
But all at once, most unaccountably,
A change so great came over him, one scarce
Could know him for the same; and now, you see,
He's always smart, frequents the choicest khans,
And listens with a heedful modest air,
When learned men or aged people talk.

Bedreddin.
See the young rascal, stealing sidelong looks
At Abon Hassan's windows; he expects
To see his pretty wife. Ah, cunning rogue!
You must be hankering for forbidden fruits,
My pretty butterfly?

Ali.
See, here he comes!

Bedreddin.
We'll have some sport with him.

Aladdin
(enters, rather bashfully, and salutes them).
Sirs, Allah's blessing
Be with you, and the Prophet's!

Ali.
Fairly spoken!
But may I be so bold as ask, young man,
What were your eyes in search of, when they look'd
So hard at Abon Hassan's window?

Bedreddin.
Oh,
He merely wished to see if it remained
In the same place as yesterday,—no more.

Ali.
Brother, you do him wrong! This gentleman
Looked not at Abon Hassan's window,—no,
But through it, I'll be sworn.

Bedreddin.
And there beheld
The iron bars, that stand there night and morn,
So slim and straight, to keep intruders out.

Ali.
Ay, and though speechless, speaking plain enough,
And at all seasons, Fatima is fair,
And Abon Hassan old, and jealous too.

Aladdin.
Fair sirs, I'm young and simple, shy, unschooled,
And therefore am I a most ready butt
For you to ply with arrows of your wit.

Bedreddin.
Oh! simple, very! Innocence itself!
The long and short of it is simply this—
You think the spouse of Abon Hassan fair,
And so she is. Yet do I know a maid,
That far excels her, lovely though she be.

Aladdin
(eagerly).
And who may she be, sir?

Bedreddin.
The Sultan's daughter,
The exquisite Gulnare. Oh, she is fair!
Fair as the first blush of the morning sun;
The big round moon, mantled in silver clouds,
Is not so bright, so witching to the view,
As the full radiance of her orbèd cheeks
Behind her tissued veil of new fallen snow.
And when she lifts the fringes of her eyes,
And looks aloft to heaven, oh then 'tis sweet,
As when the grave gives up its denizen,
And the blest soul ascends to Paradise.
In her hath nature made essay, young man,
To blend all opposites in perfect union.
The warmth of spring burns in the winter's snow,
And through the lustrous alabaster skin
The azure veins are faintly seen to gleam.
Who thinks that darkness can be luminous?
And yet there is no darkness half so black,
As her large, lamping, and voluptuous eyes.
Joyous and languishing, half earth, half heaven;
As ivory smooth; yet doth her dusky hair
Roll o'er her shoulders like a crispèd stream.
Here slender, there luxuriantly full,
The butterfly moves not more light, and she
Is good and gentle as the turtle dove.
But why essay to paint her, when all words
But mock the glory of her matchless beauty?

Aladdin.
Oh, dear sir, cease, I beg, implore you, cease!
I've held my breath till I was nearly choked,
For fear of interrupting you too soon;
If, sir, your sketch be like her, she is fair.

Bedreddin.
Like, said you? 'Tis a vile, a lying daub!
Mere botcher's work. Words are but as the threads
On the wrong side of tapestry, young man,
Whenever woman's beauty's in the case.

Aladdin.
I should be glad, kind sir, to learn the way
To get a view upon the proper side.

Bedreddin.
Hem! Almost every day, about this hour,
She goes to bathe! Now, if you have the pluck,
To steal behind a pillar out of sight,
Close by the door,—oh, many have done this!—
You may content your longing eyes at ease;
For commonly she puts her veil aside,
To cool herself, before she passes in.
But have a care, my good young friend, that this
Same doffing of her veil, which makes her cool,
Don't set you in a blaze.

Aladdin.
Nay, never fear.
You ask if I have pluck? What punishment
May one expect that's found there?

Ali.
A mere trifle!
What ducks and geese must very often bear;
Just to be spitted, or, perchance, to make
One leap, for the advantage of your health,
Down 'mongst the iron spikes around the tower.

Aladdin.
I said I was a simple youth, 'tis true,
And only to be likened to a goose,
But catch me coming to such gooselike end!

(Bows.)
Bedreddin.
Oh, don't believe him, sir! The Sultan is
An amiable man, and feels much flattered,
If anybody dares to snatch a glance;
If you're found out, your greatest punishment
Will be a hearty scolding from the eunuchs.

Aladdin.
But may I trust you now?

Bedreddin.
Most certainly.

Aladdin.
Some day, when leisure serves, and I've a mind,
I'll make the venture; I am busy now;
Some matters of the very greatest moment
Require my instant care;—so fare you well!

[Exit.
Bedreddin.
Busy? Of course. My smart young gentleman
Has posted off, I'd wager, to the bath,
As fast as feet can carry him.

Ali.
No doubt!
But 'twas too bad, it was, upon my life,
To put such maggots in the young man's head!
If the poor devil, now, should fall in love?

Bedreddin.
Then home he'll go heart-sick, as we did once,
And sleep his love off there as best he may.

[Exeunt.
A Garden.
In the background the Princess's Bagnio, a handsome building, with marble pillars.
Aladdin
(running in out of breath).
This is the place! Here, where the pillars stand,
Shall I be charmed into a pillar too?
In love and admiration lost, shall I
Like a Chaldean shepherd stand at gaze,
While the bright star gleams on across the sky?
Courage, Aladdin! If the guard should see me?
If they should wait here while she's in the bath?
No, no, they won't. They'll wait within the hall.
Ah, heaven! she comes! Now, to conceal myself!

[Enter Gulnare with her Nurse, followed by a large retinue of black Eunuchs. At the entrance she throws back her veil and uncovers her face.
The Nurse
(whispers to the Princess).
Look, daughter! look! What shameless impudence!
You see that young man by the pillar there!
It is to look at you he hides himself.
On with your veil!

Gulnare
(looking at Aladdin).
I am so hot, dear mother!
Nay, let him look; I'll pay him glance for glance.
How can you grudge him such a transient pleasure?

(They pass in).
Aladdin
(steps out from behind the pillar, and stands gazing motionless, with hands folded).
Yes, she is fair! An angel! Oh, what eyes!
And her mouth's smile, her bosom's rise and fall!
I never, never saw such eyes!—Oh, Allah!
I feel a strange commotion! Yes, 'tis true,
The merchant's sketch was but a botcher's work.
But how paint light with colours of the earth?
Colours are nought but shadows of the light!
Oh, gracious Allah! send her back again!
Oh, come again, and soon, thou beauteous Houri!
Here will I wait thy coming! Oh, return!

(He stands immovable as a statue.)
Morgiana
(enters with her market-basket on her arm; as she passes, she stops to look at the Bagnio).
Although I have a world of things to do,
To purchase beef and potherbs for the day,
I must have one good look, I always have,
At this same wondrous bagnio as I pass.
Oh, what immense pilasters, and so fine!
The bathing here must be quite excellent.
Heyday! What have we here? A spick and span
New marble statue, made like a young man.
Why, how he stares, stock still, without one wink!
And yet that's not so strange; he's only stone.
(draws nearer).
Oh, Mecca's Prophet, what is this I see?
It is my son! My very flesh and blood.
All stone, the kaftan, turban, boots and all!
Done to the life, his very counterpart!
How ever came he by this honour? Why,
They surely can't have done it for a jest,
Because he's only a poor tailor's son?
Let me go closer. Now he moves his arm,
And now, dear me! he brushes off a fly,
That settled on his nose. To think of that!
And now he rubs his nose. No, that can't be!
This is sheer witchcraft! 'Tis too much to ask
Of any statue. But perhaps it is
A puppet, that can move, and not a stone.
What's that? A sigh? That's more than statue can,
Or puppet either. It don't look fierce at all,
I'll peep a little closer. So, here goes!
(goes closer).
Aladdin, my dear child! I beg of you,
Speak, if 'twere but a word, that I may hear,
If you're indeed my son. But if I'm wrong,
And you are not Aladdin, but a stranger,
Do not be angry; but forgive your mother,
As a good, loving, loyal son should do.

Aladdin
(observes his mother, and leaps down).
How, mother, you? What are you doing here?

Morgiana.
I'm buying potherbs, beef, all sorts of things;
But what, sir, are you after, stuck up there
Like any popinjay?

Aladdin
(sighs).
Oh shape divine!

Morgiana.
The house, I grant you, has a handsome shape.
Of architecture nothing do I know,
And yet I can't help stopping every time
I pass this way to have a look at it.

Aladdin.
How, mother, how! You too stand here at times,
Here, on these steps?

Morgiana.
I?—bless your heart!—not I.
For, first, in vaulting I am not expert;
And secondly, my bones are old; and thirdly,
My petticoats are not near wide enough;
And fourthly, it would not become me quite;
And fifthly, standing in the corner there,
One cannot see the outside half so well,
As one can do out here. Now, come along.
I see they're opening the doors again,
And here's the Princess coming from the bath.
'Twill never do to linger here. No man
Is suffered to be by when she comes forth.

Aladdin
(lingers and looks round).
Ah me, dear mother!

Morgiana.
Come along, I say!
There, take my basket, sir, and carry it;
Help your old mother with her work, young man,
And don't stand gaping, like a ninny there!
[Aladdin reluctantly takes the basket and follows his mother.
That's right. What business has a lad like you
Casting sheep's glances after pretty girls?
Go on to market with the basket, child!