University of Virginia Library

ACT FIFTH.

The Entrance to the Sultan's Palace.
First Sentinel.
What do I see? What a great swarm of men
Is coming to the palace down the street!
A grand procession of distinguished strangers,—
Princes they are, that's clear. Run, Hassan, run
And let the Sultan know, with your best haste,
That several princes from some distant land
Are on the road to visit him to-day.

[Exit Second Sentinel.
(Eighty black and white slaves enter slowly in procession, the black bearing the vases on their heads. After them enters Morgiana, sumptuously clad, attended by six female slaves. Soliman, attended by his Vizir and body-guard, meets them on the steps of the palace. As the first slave reaches the top, he speaks.)
Soliman.
Welcome, my trusty and belovèd kinsman, welcome!
Great, yea, most great, the joy that fills our heart,
To see you here thus unexpectedly.

The Slave
(kneels).
I am a slave, oh mighty Lord; no prince!
The eightieth merely in this long array.
Most humbly we approach, here at thy feet
To lay the gifts Aladdin promised thee.

Soliman.
You—slaves, and thus right royally attired?
From him? The tail—the stripling? From Aladdin?

Slave.
Yes, mighty Sultan.

Soliman.
And the aged dame,
Attended by these lovely creatures, is—

Slave.
His mother, Sire.

Soliman.
His—What? The tailor's widow?

Morgiana
(throwing back her veil).
The same, most mighty Sultan! So, you don't
Know me again? That's probably because
I wear a veil.

Soliman.
Vizir!

Vizir.
My gracious liege!

Soliman.
What say you now?

Vizir.
I'm dumb! I'm petrified.

Soliman.
Come on, dear madam,—to the palace! Come!
And there you shall awake me from my dream.

Morgiana.
Ah, not a bit of it's a dream, Sir Sultan!
'Tis simple, downright, plain, straightforward fact,
And not a grain of witchcraft in it all.
Come, follow, slaves, me and your master! Come!

Soliman.
If this be not a dream, and no delusion,
Gulnara soon will be Aladdin's bride.

The Slaves
(shout).
Long live great Soliman! Long live Aladdin!

[Exeunt into the palace.
A Beautiful Marble Bath.
Aladdin (waited on by invisible fairies).
Peribanou,
their Queen.
Fair youth, we wait thy pleasure;
Lo, all thou seest is thine;
Here all thy heart but yearned for
In magic light doth shine.
The chamber's lofty arches
Are bold and sculptured fair,
And walls of polished marble
Are round thee everywhere.
With sand of alabaster
The floor is softly strewn;
The bath exhales the perfume
Of sweet flowers newly blown.
Its surface, like a mirror,
Reflects thy visage near;
Oh, see the limpid water,
As starry diamonds clear!
Here, to the right, a fountain
Of icy coolness flows;
Along a bed it wimples
Of the lily and the rose.
Here to the left is streaming
A river's tiny arm;
It gushes from the mountain,
And it is soft and warm.
Then mingle at thy pleasure—
The means are by thy side—
The cool flower-shaded brooklet,
With the glowing rock-born tide.
And when with quickened vigour
Thou leav'st the waters bright;
Fair maiden hands shall dry thee,
And lap thee in delight.

Aladdin.
Ha! voice of sweetness, let me see thy mouth,
The flute through which thy witching accents flow!
Why dost thou hide thyself, oh beauteous rose,
So cruelly, the whilst a nightingale
Trills on thy crimson petals her glad strain?

Peribanou.
Content thee, youth, content thee
With the perfume of the rose;
Seek not to view, nor fondle,
What are but airy shows.
We are here, above, around thee,
But of earth thy glances be;
The creatures of the element
They pierce, but cannot see.
Then such fond wishes banish,
Learn thou our might to prize;
Ourselves we show but rarely
In earthly woman's guise.
Oh dear young man, but rarely,
And ne'er in open day;
In the bath before a stripling
So frolicsome and gay.

Aladdin.
Oh, pain in every pleasure—every joy!

The Fairies
(sing).
Play, ye limpid waters, fondly
Round these limbs so sweetly rounded;
Make the sturdy sinews pliant,
Hard and strong the youthful nerves.

Aladdin.
How! Was it not as though the water sang?

Fairies.
Cool is now thy hot blood's crimson;
Sweetly is thy heart refreshed;
Glorious are thy locks resplendent;
From the bath new-nerved arise!

Aladdin.
How! Was it not as though the ether rang?

Fairies.
From the bath new-nerved arise!

Aladdin.
I rise! What tones, what rapturous sensation!
By zephyr's viewless pinions I am fann'd,
By breezes, which a fragrant warmth have drawn
From the deep bosom of a bursting rose.

Peribanou.
Now let Beauty come apace
To the bath with rosy grace;
Strength too, rough, o'ergrown with hair,
Hasting from his forest lair!

Strength and Beauty, a giant and a fairy, enter, but are also invisible to Aladdin; the former bearing a sponge, the latter bearing a hyacinth.
Strength.
Strong art thou, but at my bidding greater strength shall soon be thine.

Beauty.
Fair art thou, but soon, Aladdin, shalt thou fairer be at mine.

Strength.
Every thew shall swell and harden, underneath my rubbing hand.

Beauty.
Every limb I'll round and soften with this flower from fairy land.

Strength.
Ampler still must be thy shoulders, stalwart each and rounded well.

Beauty.
In thine eyes a deeper hazel shall love's secrets sweetly tell.

Strength.
Now thy chest is narrow, quickly shall it arch in amplest might.

Beauty.
Cheek, to me too like a maiden's seems thy rosy lustre bright!

Strength.
Let the back in sinewy vigour, like hewn marble, smoothly shine.

Beauty.
Only just a trifle smaller must I make those lips of thine.

Strength.
Broader be thy feet, and stronger; like a rock thou'lt stand in place.

Beauty.
Thine shall be a just proportion, not too tall to move with grace.

Strength.
Boldly shall thy lofty forehead tell of spirit, power, and pride.

Beauty.
Arching eyebrows shall betoken worth doth there with strength abide.

Strength.
Beauty, he is not a maiden, but a man. Then have a care!

Beauty.
Right; so they must droop serenely, with a high and thoughtful air.

Strength.
Straighter still the swelling haunches, and the arm an oaken root.

Beauty.
Whiter still the fair round fingers, smaller too must be the foot.

Strength.
In thy heart I pour, all glowing, heroes' blood unstained by guile.

Beauty.
Love's pure flame, the sweet, the holy, thus unto thine eyes I smile.

Strength.
Of thy foes be thou the terror; like a lion to pursue.

Beauty.
Bloom thou, ever loved of beauty, and to loving beauty true.

Both.
Thus have I, oh youth belovèd, all my gifts bestowed on thee.
Henceforth may thy life be sunshine, ever happy, ever free!

[They vanish.
The Sultan's Palace.
Soliman. Aladdin.
Soliman.
To Allah and the Prophet I give thanks,
That such a worthy son-in-law have sent me.
Thy wealth I scarcely yet can comprehend;
Surpassing is thy beauty; spirit, health,
And constancy are beaming in thine eyes.
Oh noble youth, thou dost deserve my daughter:
Of that I'm well convinced. Another man
Would ask, perchance, how thou camest by thy wealth,
Who, what thou art and more! So do not I.
Since thou to keep this secret thinkest meet,
Doubtless thou hast good reasons of thine own,
Which though I knew, what better should I be?
I see well what thou hast; but how thou hast it,
I do not know; but better do I know,
How I, or any other child of Adam,
Have what we have? Enough to know the “what:”
'Tis only fools make question of the “how.”

Aladdin.
Great Sultan, these your noble words of wisdom
Refresh my soul, as morning dews that fall
From the high cedar's top refresh the bush,
Which seeks a shelter in its giant shade.

Soliman.
To-morrow, then, and with the dawn, my son,
We celebrate in state thy nuptial feast.

Aladdin.
The bee, great Sultan, yearneth not at morn
More fondly for the rose's honey'd cup,
Than I to rest within her arms divine;
The grass, bent with the stormy rains of night,
Not more impatiently awaits the sun,
To lift its head with added strength anew,
Than I, bow'd down by love's long feverish watch,
Await the gracious smiling of her eyes.
Yet I entreat, the marriage, oh my Sire,
May be postponed but for some little space,
Till in the square, before the palace here,
I have a mansion built, may worthily
Receive a mistress so unparagoned.

Soliman.
My son, I will concede the boon you ask.
How long will you require to be prepared?

Aladdin.
That I can not with certainty foretell;
But this at least I know, 'twill not be long;
My masons are unmatch'd for industry.

Soliman.
So be it, then. Now, come to the divan,
That I may there acquaint thee with the duties
Of my vicegerent, and the burdens, thou
Must henceforth as my son submit to share.

Aladdin.
Ah, if the needful strength were only mine!
But you shall strengthen me; your wisdom shall
Upraise me, whensoe'er I droop or fall.

[Exeunt.
The Great Square in front of the Palace.
Night. Spirits of the Lamp, engaged in building the Palace.
First Spirit.
There! The first stone is fast, and stuffed with golden coins!
Get me but freestone now, and I shall build apace.

Two Others
(advance through the air with massive blocks of stone).
Here's stone for thee! A lovely marble, white as milk,
With veins as blue as e'er gleam'd through a young maid's skin.
Out of the Caucasus we quarried them, and swift
Have posted hither; yet not fast enough for you!
A band of shepherd youths sat fluting on the cliff;
The fairest of their maids, unseen of her, we caught,
And from her rounded throat the napkin tore away,
That with her bosom we our marble might compare.
But straightway spread a purple bloom o'er all her breast
Of maiden bashfulness; “Look!” with a laugh we cried,
“The marble, child, is like thy bosom, white and full,
Yet blush so sweet as clothes thy breast no stone can show!”

First Spirit.
Who brings me lime? Ho, lime, I say; now, be alive!

Two Others.
Here's lime from Hindostan, dug from the central earth!
A dazzling white! but sprinkled here and there with blood.
At the dead hour of midnight, by the King's command,
The head of a blaspheming rebel was to fall.
Then to the scaffold we upon our errand flew.
Loud rang the axe: his blood shot heavenwards in a stream;
But, mixed with it, the lime will have a firmer hold.

First Spirit.
Who'll fetch me from the North a granite corner-stone?

Two Others.
Here is a stone, a sacred stone, will last for aye.
We stole it in far Norway from a peasant band,
Who bore it from the quarry to their monarch's grave,
Which newly had been closed. Here's dew upon the stone,
Will harden it against the tooth of wasting time,
For 'tis the tear of sorrow, given to parted worth.

First Spirit.
Who now will bring me carvings for the cornice here?

Two Others.
Into a giant whale we two transformed ourselves,
And down beneath the ocean's foam and sedges plunged,
Till far, far in the South, against an isle we drove,
All netted round with coral and thick-clustering shells;
These from the ground we tore away, and on our head
Set, like a wreath, the whole red jaggèd labyrinth,
For thee to fasten in festoons around the wall.

First Spirit.
Where now shall I find pearls, and radiant carbuncles?

Two Others.
We come rich-laden from the vale of diamonds,
That's fenced and girdled round with precipices steep,
To mortal tread for ever inaccessible.
Upon the distant rocks some merchants throng'd, agape,
In hopes to see the eagle to his nest return.
For round about his talons lumps of meat they tie,
And when into the vale he swoops upon his prey,
To sate his hunger on the snakes and vermin there,
The diamonds cleave unto the beef beneath his feet.
And every merchant has his nest; and thence he hopes
To find a fortune wafted to him through the air.
To-day their hopes were fated to be dash'd; for we
Swept for ourselves away gems, eagle, nest, and all,
And left the gapers standing pale in blank despair.

First Spirit.
Who brings me pictures now unmatchable in worth?

Two Others.
See, here they are, my friend! To Italy we flew.
Beneath the silver moon a pair of lovers sat,
And the bride sang a tender lay to her guitar;
Unseen, beneath a pile of ruins, they were hid,
Which in that country's tongue are Herculaneum styled.
Amain we dived, as dive the wild geese in the sea,
Deep down into the earth, and brought these pictures thence.
Magnificently they will deck thy great saloon.

First Spirit.
Now, where shall I find gold, my mouldings to enrich?

Two Others.
See, here is golden ore, sufficient and to spare!
We wing'd our viewless way to Afric's lonely waste:
The midnight cool hung o'er it: on the tawny sand
The moon shed tawny light, and tawny lions round
And round the desert roamed, and with their claws tore up
The tawny gold in masses from the spungy earth,
And in the filmy moonlight toss'd them to and fro.
Ten steers we flung them, we from Barbary had brought,
And, whilst the lions were despatching these, we took
The gold. Such lumps thou never hast till now beheld.

First Spirit.
And now for silk, is meet to deck imperial walls!

Two Others.
From China, from the wood of mulberries we come,
Where in the starlight clear the silvery brooklet runs,
And countless silkworms spin their webs unceasingly.
More than we bring thee here thou'lt scarcely lack, my friend.

First Spirit.
Who'll fetch me pillars now, to bear the palace gates?

Two Others.
To Taurus' skyey peak we clomb, and look'd around;
There in the vale a herd of elephants we saw,
Trampling a peasant's corn-fields down into the clay.
To punish this wild pastime on the plain we swoop'd,
And from the creatures wrench'd their tusks right cunningly.
Look here, what sickles! Hast thou e'er beheld the like?

First Spirit.
Now in the cold moonshine I'll pillars carve from them.
But copper for the palace roof who next will bring?

Two Others.
Two mighty armies were encamped in Tartary.
The ground was strewn with helmets, shields, spears, shirts of mail,
And every shield was blood-red copper of Japan.
These seem'd to us right handy copings for the roof,
And so from every hero there his shield we stole,
Though he had laid it down as pillow for his head.
When they awake at dawn,—lo! every shield is gone!
Good! they will have to wield their swords to more account.

First Spirit.
Now for a diamond staff to crown the tower withal!

Two Others.
A youthful king, milk-bearded, sat upon a throne,
And slept, the sceptre in his left hand, upside down,
And dreamily he swung it, like a baby's toy,
Among a slavish horde; so that the last remains
Of order disappeared, and all to chaos fell.
In anger, from the feeble hand we wrench'd the staff;
Here it will shine, and boldly heavenwards still aspire.

First Spirit.
Thus do I crown the whole with the ruby's lustrous fire.
[He puts the coping on the peak of the tower, and then contemplates the building.
Oh, see, friends, how the moonbeams, softly gilding all,
Are smiling on the new and snow-white marble wall!
Her moist rays curiously peer through the window bars;
The pinnacles are bright, and twinkle like the stars.
But now from distant ocean's verge the morning glows,
And on our copper roof a furtive glance she throws.
How day will marvel, when it sees the palace there,
Born in a night, and yet so perfect and so fair!
Ah, look there, how the dome towers proudly into view!
Go, fetch me brightest tints; bring thou an azure blue,
And thou, dive southward far into the deep dark sea,
And bring a purple conch right suddenly to me!
Then roses I will paint, shall bloom, 'midst leafage green,
When garden roses long to dust have withered been.
Thee next I'll sketch, Gulnare! Thy swan-like bosom white
Shall fire thy children's children with still new delight.
Here shall the youth enamour'd gaze, and say full oft,
“Our grandame's bosom, oh, how full it was, and soft!
Who ever would believe, that Time, so old and hoar,
Could give such beauty birth, for ages to adore?”
And when his hair is grey, his eye will glow anew
With all its youthful fire, her likeness here to view.
Thus youth and age will rise, and wither and decay;
But in the picture she bloom freshly as to-day.
See, how she smiles! Ho, Spirits, quickly do my will!
Here 'tis a shade too small, and here too ample still.
No more! 'Tis nobly done! But, hark! what cry was there?

[The cock crows.
All the Spirits.
Red-crested watchman calls. We scent the morning air.
Now mounts the sun, the earth with golden glow to cheer;
When mortals wake to toil, we Spirits disappear.

[They vanish.
The Harem.
Gulnare
(in a bridal dress).
The dreadful hour approaches! How I tremble!
Deliver me, kind Heaven! Once hast thou saved me,
And brought me by a miracle to him,
Who reigns alone, supreme, within my heart.
How happy was I then! But, oh kind Allah!
Didst thou release me from the tiger's claws,
That I might fall a victim to the pard?
Oh no; that cannot be! It must not be!
For then thy mercy had been cruelty.
Ah me! what fate was ever like to mine?
Bound to a man I loathed,—then, in the hour
Of my despair, saved by a youth divine.
Oh, how I love him! Thou slim cedar, thou!
Like palm-leaves waves thy undulating hair;
Thy kindling eye is like the antelope's,
And like the crimson tulip are thy cheeks.
The moon shines in the firmament of heaven
Not half so fair as thou in that of love!
What free-born pine-tree on the rocks doth lift
Its head so high and haughtily as thou?
Yet was a shepherd's mildness in thy glance.
Love's gentle yearnings nestle in thy heart.
Oh, how he loved me! and how blest was I!
But woe's me,—sever'd suddenly again,
Alone within my chamber I am left
To mourn the piteous loss, until the tears
Of my despair are stifled, as they flow,
By the dread news of fresh calamity.
Oh cruel father, wilt thou sell me now
To some coarse creature of the boorish mob?
How blest is woman in the Frankish land!
There her best feelings—all she prizes most—
Are not contemned and trampled in the dust.
Man doth respect her there, and cherish her
As nature's fairest blossom. There a maid
Culls for herself, and is not handed o'er,
The mindless bond-slave of an unknown lord.
The husband there for mistress owns his wife;
And there the lion lets himself be led,
Gentle and tame, by beauty's leading strings.
Oh, that must be a good, a glorious land!
Would I might live there! Yet I would not, no!
For then were I still farther from thy side,
Invisible beloved one of my heart!
Oh, if thou wert no phantom of a dream,
Appear: come forth in all thy youthful pride,
Strong as a lion, as a tiger lithe,
Warm as the sun, and lovely as the moon!
Thine own love calls to thee in her despair!
Oh, come, and bring her rescue from a strait
More piteous, and more cruel far than death!
Enter Soliman with Aladdin, the Suite, and Court Jester.
Oh heavens! (Throws herself at Aladdin's feet.)

Good Angel, hast thou heard my prayer?
And hasted hither, from the vulture's claws
To save the frightened lamb? My Gabriel thou!
For my sake hast thou left thy glorious home
In Paradise above?

Aladdin.
My dearest bride!

Soliman
(aside).
What means all this? I thought to find her still
Bathed in her tears, and overwhelmed with grief.
I had my father's sternness all prepared,
And now, instead of scratching out his eyes,
As she declared she was resolved to do,
Down at his feet she falls, and worships him
As an archangel! Well, well! I must say,
They are strange creatures, these same womenfolks!

Gulnare.
Oh, most unlooked for chance! Oh, sweet surprise!

Soliman.
How! Chance!—Surprise! Reflect, reflect, Gulnare!
What will this hairbrained creature come to next?
Thou wert prepared beforehand.

Gulnare.
I prepared?
You told me I was destined for a wretch,—
A miserable slave you called Aladdin.

Soliman.
That miserable slave, that wretch, my child,
Is he, you clasp so fondly to your breast.

Gulnare.
Art thou he?

Aladdin.
Yes, my love!

Soliman.
Compose yourself.
It gives me joy to see you weep no more;
Yet must you not give full career to mirth.
The gravity, which evermore should grace
A princely forehead, is a flower that scorns
The rain of tears and sun of smiles alike;
For only in the shade it strikes a root,
And blooms the fairest in an arid soil.

Jester.
Marry, well said; that's my opinion too.

Soliman.
She neither sees nor hears me.

Jester.
Talk away.
I'll lend a patient hearing to thy saws,
While the young folks are in each other wrapt.

Gulnare
(to Aladdin).
And that great lovely palace, is it thine?

Aladdin.
No, no; thou dearest of all womankind,
That is thy temple, and the throne of love!

Gulnare.
And thou my bridegroom?

Aladdin.
Yes, beloved, yes!

Gulnare.
I know not if I wake, or if I dream.
If waking, I am blest past words to tell;
But if a dream it be,—oh, sweetest dream,
Sink with me in the slumber of the grave!

Soliman.
They're both in such a state of ecstasy,
I cannot make them hear.

Jester.
Stay where you are,
I will approach them and perform your part.
My dignity will not be compromised,
If they shall turn as deaf an ear to me.
[Goes up to Aladdin and Gulnare, who are conversing in the background.
The Ruler of the Faithful, sweet young people,
Requests you will attend him to the palace,
Where, for this hour and more, in the great hall,
A most select assemblage waits your coming.

Aladdin.
The golden hour invites us, my sweet bride:
Bliss waves us onward: let us haste to meet it!

Jester
(pulls him back).
Here, my good friend, haste goes with measured step!
At court, sir, ceremonies govern all;
And pray you note, I'm master of them,—I;
An office which from immemorial time
Has with the Jester's piously been link'd.
First comes a lengthen'd train of negro slaves,
With sabres, and with halberds in their hands,
To keep aloof the mob of lookers-on.
Then follow the Vizirs and Privy Council.
These are not negro slaves, friend; they are white.
Next comes the Sultan 'neath a velvet pall,
Attended like a shadow by his fool,
And only then the princess and yourself
Appear upon a handsome dromedary.
(He arranges the procession, then makes a sign from the windows with his bauble and exclaims,)
Now blow, ye rascals, all your trumpets blow,
As fierce and loudly as your lungs can strain;
Let cannon thunder, bells by thousands ring,
And all the world in joyful chorus sing!

[They go off in procession.
AFRICA.
Noureddin
(seated at his table buried in thought. He lets the stylus drop from his hand into the box of sand, and sinks back exhausted).
Ha, Fate, why art thou hostile to me still?
My hand is weary with long toil; my eye
Is dim with staring into vacancy.
Where'er I draw my lines, all, all is blank,
And bare and barren as Saharah's sand.
To the mountain still they point near Ispahan:
There do they seek the lamp's small eye of flame.
But woe is me! all bootless is the search!
Without the lamp I stumble in the dark;
For what I seek is with the magic lamp
Link'd closely, wholly,—yea, inseparably.
This much, alas! I see,—too well, too well!
Oh execrable fate! Accursèd boy,
Long, long ere now thy wretched frame is dust,
And thy bleach'd bones lie freezing in the brook.
And can it really be, that mortal hands
Shall never more obtain the wondrous lamp?
Is there no measure, none, I still may try?
Or have I tried them all? Full well I know,
Open the cave again I never can,
And all that has relation to this cave—
As, for example, what befel the boy—
Is shrouded from mine eyes, that see all else.
It is not true. Thou liest, Noureddin! What
Prevents thee seeing further? Ha, 'tis this!
I would not even confess it to myself.
I shrank till now with shuddering from the sight;
For all too well I knew what I should see,—
The loathsome, livid body, half decay'd.
Now that is past! A whited skeleton,
What's horrible in that, or grim to view?
Down, weakness, down! Courage! I'll probe again.
That glorious cave, the seat of every joy,
Shall be no more to me a den of woe.
[He puncturates, and drops the stylus from his hand in affright.
Oh, Heavens! Allah! Mecca and Medina!
Happy! A prince! And on the eve of wedding
The Sultan's daughter! Master of the lamp!
Saved by the ring, which I—I, like a fool,
Placed on his finger! Fury, Death and Hell!
What devil robb'd me of my memory,
That I could thus so totally forget
My magic ring? Ha, malapert! and thou
Art reaping now the fruits of all my toil?
Plundering the tree I planted? I must know,
How all has come about,—I must, and shall.
Straight will I call the Water Spirit here,
The only spirit, from which my present powers
Can now constrain obedience to my will. (Makes signs.)

Thou Spirit of the Stream, appear, appear!
Answer thy master all that he demands.

The Water Spirit
(appears).
What would'st thou with me? Ho!
Be brief, and let me go!
I cannot keep my shape
For long, but must escape
On every side, and flow,
Now trickling fine and slow,
Now tumbling white in foam,
Where'er my fancies roam;
And ever must I range
In sunshine and in storm,
And pass from change to change,
And shift from form to form.

Noureddin.
Thou art a feeble spirit, but still a spirit;
And, as the denizen of yonder world,
Know'st more than he, whose summons brought thee here.
Say, then, who 'twas that drugg'd my memory?
How hath it chanced that I forgot my ring,
And by what spell have I been cheated thus?

Spirit.
The little golden snake,
That wears a diadem
Of precious stone and gem,
Blood-red and emerald bright,
And diamantine light;
The little golden snake
Doth at the water quake;
She is no water snake.

Noureddin.
She is no water snake?

Spirit.
It is for her too chill,
Where dreary billows scream;
She shuns the sphere of dream,
She loves the palpable.

Noureddin.
She loves the palpable?

Spirit.
Her home is fixed and still.
The vague desires, that rise
Before the schemer's eyes,
Are banished thence alway;
She bows to nature's sway.

Noureddin.
She bows to nature's sway?

Spirit.
In meads she loves to stray,
Where nobly fashion'd flowers
Bloom on through endless hours;
Where fresh buds still unfold,
And time is never old;
She bows to nature's sway.

Noureddin.
Own I not nature's sway?

Spirit.
Thou art to dreams a prey!
Her bounds they will not 'bide,
They reel from side to side;
Mere foam-flakes are they, chased
O'er ocean's formless waste.
The little golden snake
Doth at the water quake,
It is for her too chill;
She is no water snake,
She loves the palpable.

Noureddin.
Am I not palpable?

Spirit.
Thine is a rebel's will
Against creation's course!
Thou dost essay by force
Its limits to o'erleap,
And far beyond to sweep.
Thou dost not own the ring,
That girdles everything.
The little golden snake
Is nothing but the ring.

Noureddin.
At that I do not quake.
Success shall soon be mine;
Soon shall I find the lamp,
And brightly shall it shine.

Spirit.
It bears a life divine;
It burns not in the damp.

Noureddin.
And when I've won the lamp,
Mine too shall be the ring.

Spirit.
The ring shall hold the lamp,
But not the lamp the ring.

Noureddin.
My wish I'll soon command.

Spirit.
Yet both go hand in hand.
The lamp burns near the ring;
The ring shines near the lamp.

Noureddin.
To flout me is thy care;
And dark distrust to shed.

Spirit.
The temple's dome in air
Must meekly lift its head;
That on the altar fair,
The pure flame may be fed.

Noureddin.
Untruly hast thou spoken,
Thou silly vap'rous thing!

Spirit.
Thyself the ring hast broken;
Thou ne'er shalt find the ring.

Noureddin.
Ha! Babbling idly yet!

Spirit.
Thou wilt again forget!

[Vanishes.
Noureddin.
A philosophic spirit! Grant me patience!
The stupidest of dolts that lives on earth
Will mix you physics up with metaphysics,
Proprieties and ethics. What the plague,
Have ethics and proprieties to do
With magic? Pshaw! A moral necromancer!
The art, for which our ancestors subscribed
Allegiance to the fiend with their own blood,
Is to be practised now on moral rules?
Zounds! every day the world grows worse and worse.
I never could have fancied any spirit
Was such a fool, even though he were mere water.

Enter Hindbad.
Hindbad.
How, brother! what does all this fury mean?
You used to pore at night within your room,
As still as owls by daylight, where the wood
Is thickest. What has roused your anger thus?

Noureddin.
To-morrow I set out for Ispahan.
For know, my brother, that the wondrous lamp
Is in the power of that audacious boy,
Who, I believed, was dead.

Hindbad.
Good Heavens! The lamp?

Noureddin.
Thou art my brother; unto me thou owest
Whatever thou hast learned; more hadst thou learned,
Had zeal kept pace with thy ability.
To-morrow I set out, and hope the best;
But destiny is cross, and full of guile.
Then swear to me, and by the Prophet's tomb,
Thou wilt avenge me, like a faithful brother,
If I should fall a victim to my foe.

Hindbad.
I swear to thee as brother and as friend,
If thou shalt fall, no thirsty tongue did e'er
Long more for water in the wilderness,
Than Hindbad's dagger for thy murderer's blood.

Noureddin.
'Tis well! Then take this talisman. Thou see'st,
That now 'tis black; if it shall turn blood red,
It is a token of thy brother's death?

[Exit.
Hindbad.
And is the lamp, then, really on the earth,
And no mere figment of a beldame's tale?
Is this not one of your old lies, Noureddin,
To titillate your shallow vanity?
So, then, your crucibles, your fumes, and stenches,
Have borne some fruit at last! In sober sooth,
I fain would be the lord of such a lamp!
Nought could be handier to one, who loves,
Like me, to link his pleasures with his ease.
Then as I sat o' nights, and wished some girl
Within my arms, who had my fancy hit,
I rub my lamp—and there she lies like Eve,
And I, like Adam, straight in Paradise.
Then when I want to eat, no need have I
To plague myself about a stupid cook:
I send my spirits off to help themselves
To the choice viands of a Sultan's table,
Eat to my fill, and have the jest, besides,
Of thinking how his majesty is starving.
Water shall no man mingle in my wine.
I shall have every cellarer who does
Strangled at once; for to mix wine with water
Is a high crime, which merits instant death.
Such rascals as I relish not I'll have
Hang'd by my spirits on a gallows. Jests
In bushels shall my darling lamp supply!
To be a Sultan were an easy thing;
But I will not be one; I'd rather reign
Incognito, and at my own caprice.
All things which men call duties I detest!
It is not wickedness;—no, by my soul!
'Tis only love of ease, and that I take
Restraint upon my inclinations ill;
And that the world is a mad world, and he
The greatest madman who would govern it;
And he, that is the sagest, angles on
In troubled waters, till he bites the hook
Of death himself at last. This, in few words,
Is my religion and philosophy.
Well, go, Noureddin, I can scarcely blame you,
For seeking to dispose of that same boy.
I will direct my course by your example,
And in due season, on the self-same grounds,
Essay the same experiment with you.
For such a lamp is worth a little stroke
Of private murder, even between brothers.

[Exit.
Aladdin's Palace.
The Great Hall. Aladdin and his Bride, Soliman, Zulima, Morgiana, the Vizir, and numerous Guests seated at table.
Soliman.
Magnificence like this I ne'er beheld!
But say, my son, when everything beside
Is perfect, wherefore is the window there,
In yonder farther corner, incomplete?

Aladdin.
My lord and father, all my happiness
Is to your goodness due; and therefore I,
As a poor token of my gratitude,
Have left this single window incomplete,
That you might put the final hand yourself
To this fair structure: you alone might have
The praise and glory of the perfect work.

Soliman.
Charming! Aladdin, you enchant me! All
My artists shall be sent for with the dawn.

Aladdin.
Now, by your leave, let dance and song proceed,
To give a daintier relish to our feast!

Aladdin makes a signal, whereupon enter a band of fairies, some dressed for dancing, some with instruments; when the dance begins, sings the
Chorus.
Spring is come; swathed softly in its leafy sheath,
Slumbers the young bud; how red it swells beneath!
Tinkle, then, ye strings, like brook in forest glades,
Loud as birds in spring, sing, ye beauteous maids!
Every bosom now is glowing with love's fires,
Age itself anew is thrilled with fond desires!
All the earth doth wear a garniture divine;
Freely sprinkle, then, the golden-juicèd wine!
With its gladsome nectar, brimm'd in goblets full,
Love's consuming ardour moderate and cool!
Mahomet, he chides not; see, his smile divine,
Myrtle-wreathed, bids welcome maidens, love, and wine!

Second Chorus.
Let her praises loudly echo through the hall,
Who of fairest roses fairest is of all!

Third Chorus.
Sing Gulnara's charms, serene, and soft and bright:
We shall sing Aladdin's prowess in the fight!

First Chorus.
In her scarf hast thou been toying, zephyr, say?
Love's delicious perfume bring'st thou thence away?
Say, hast thou been sporting 'mongst her dusky hair,
That sweeps in crispèd waves adown her shoulders fair?
Hast thou in her bosom's mirror peep'd, and seen
There thyself reflected in its ivory sheen?
Hast thou drunk enchantment from the musky air,
Linger'd for a while among the hollows there?
Answer, zephyr, answer; haste not to be gone;
Tell me every beauty thou hast look'd upon!

Third Chorus.
Zephyr, hence!—go whispering on through woodland ways;
Here resounds the hero's trumpet-song of praise!
Though he ne'er hath pitch'd his tent on listed field,
Hear, oh world, the glory soon to be reveal'd!
Stars shall quail before the gleaming of his spear;
Even the sun shall fail before his falchion clear;
Hordes of slain his steed in war shall trample o'er,
Wading to the hoofs incarnadined with gore!
Every young maid's locks shall murmur, “Oh, to be
Manacles of gold to clasp and fetter thee!”
In his good sword, flashing from its sheath, shall gleam
Elements that war, but each of worth supreme;
Water when at peace within his arm it rests,
Fire, when it is whirling o'er his foemen's crests.
Loud its iron tongue shall in the battle hour
Peal the war-note shrill of its death-dealing power.
Joy! Thy glory puts the poet's skill to shame!
Thou shalt sweep the desert like a blasting flame;
Strong in righteous wrath, and ruddily array'd,
Death, unfailing death, cleaves to thy falchion's blade!

All.
See, where now with panting breast and kindling eye,
To the nuptial room, hand linked in hand, they hie!
Oh the blossoms love's sweet flame shall ripen there,
When to stem so stalwart nestles rose so fair!
On with song and dance, ye maidens, and unbind
The wreath of lilies woven, that in her hair is twined;
Crown her in their stead with hyacinths, to be
Emblems meet of Beauty, Strength, Fertility!