University of Virginia Library

ACT FIRST.

The Great Hall in Aladdin's Palace.
Day. A number of the Sultan's workmen at work, completing a window.
Architect.
Was ever man in such a strait?
I sink beneath the heavy weight.
A month has slipped away, and still
I'm at the bottom of the hill.
We never, never shall achieve
This plaguey window, I believe.
Confound it! Here the Sultan and
His son-in-law are close at hand,
Back from the war, where they have crushed
The foe. In gory silence hushed,
The rebels thickly strew the plain,
And all is peace and joy again!
Aladdin with his good sword came,
And carved a way to deathless fame.
He has, I'd swear, however screened,
Some private dealings with the fiend,
Else how should he, a tailor's brat,
Display such fortitude as that,
Or such a wondrous structure rear
As this colossal palace here?
With windows in it, too, like these,
That leave me not one moment's ease,
And all my skill at mockery set?
Green serpentine how shall I get?

Master Mason.
It is a scarce and precious stone,
And hard to come by, even when known.
I sent to seek it all around,
But it was nowhere to be found.
Nothing we want is to be had;
'Tis quite enough to drive one mad.
What could we do for granite, say,
When we had nothing else but clay?
One plan alone I could suggest,
And hope you'll think I've done my best.
As smooth as stone I've made the wall,
Of stucco pounded fine and small;
This has the painter oiled, and bright
The green and brown, you see, unite.
'Twill pass for marble; though I fear,
That people must not look too near.
Still, if you do not like it, we
Can pull it down quite easily.
For this one great advantage is
Chalk has o'er stone, that walls like this
Are easier to run up, and they
Still easier are to take away.

Architect.
I must be patient, friend, and where
No marble is, with plaster bear.
But out of stucco, say, will you
Make gems and such like matters too?

First Lord of the Treasury
(enters).
Look at these precious stones! How fine!
Ne'er issued choicer from the mine!
They'll decorate this window, now,
Most admirably, for I vow,
Aladdin has no finer, none;
See how they sparkle in the sun!
Of every sheen, of every shape,
Apple and berry, plum and grape!

Architect.
I know them well. They are the same,
Which from the Prince Aladdin came;
Those by his slaves, the eighty, sent,
And like all his, most excellent.
But they are not enough, by much,
And where shall we find others such?

Court Jew
(enters).
Here be some gems of every hue!
They are a trifle small, 'tis true;
But see, their fire, how delicate!
I sold them at a costly rate.
The Sultan paid me for them well,
And so 'tis right to make them tell.
They're not so large as these; but lies
All beauty, then, alone in size?
And if they're not so brilliant, why,
They're in much better taste, say I.

Architect.
Go to! You gabble like a goose.
How can I turn such pips to use?
They can avail as little here
As paste or tinsel, that is clear.

Jew.
Oh sir, the stones are really fine,
I would that they again were mine!

Architect.
And what would you do with them then?

Jew.
Do? Sell them when I could again.

Architect.
Use them I must, poor though they be.
Where shall I find gold presently?

Second Lord of the Treasury.
For that your labours shall not slack.
Brimful of gold is yonder sack.
The Sultan sealed with his own hand,
And sent a mandate through the land,
That all his subjects, east and west,
Who were of golden store possessed,
Should hither bring their yellow ore.
This wounded many to the core,
And thence the great rebellion rose,
Of which we just have seen the close.
For though men love their king, they will
Be fonder of their money still.
But here it is, no matter how,
And ready at your service now.

Architect.
You've drained the nation, great and small,
Yet this won't finish half the wall.
The Sultan can't complain, if this
Attempt of ours turn out amiss.
Where nought is, fools even understand,
The Sultan forfeits his command.
But statues we must have, a pair,
To set within the niches there,
Carved curiously, like those that grace
The other windows of the place.

A Labourer.
Here comes the sculptor, hot and steaming;
The moisture from his forehead streaming!
Two figures on a truck he brings,
No doubt, they're quite surpassing things.
All swathed in linen they repose,
Like babies in their swaddling clothes.

Sculptor.
I've laboured like a packman's ass!
Zounds, things are at a pretty pass,
When I, a man of such fine power,
Must carve and chisel, hour on hour!
I've hewn and chipped till I'm half dead.
What will a man not do for bread?
But I've so thriven in my attempt,
I vow, my mother never dreamt,
She would the happy author be
Of such a gifted soul as me.
What a strange thing is genius, now!
It comes—'tis here! We know not how;
As into view a comet strays,
And sets the welkin in a blaze.

Architect.
Enough! What is it you have brought?

Sculptor.
A master-piece of skill and thought:
Two copies, fine beyond compare,
Of the most exquisite Gulnare.

Architect.
Two copies? Two? Good sir, and why?

Sculptor.
For reasons good, you may rely.
How easily past all belief
A sculptor's works may come to grief?
So 'gainst the risk of such a fate,
'Tis well to have a duplicate.
Grant me this much,—of course you will;—
Yet there's another reason still.
I had too little time! The two
In one night I was forced to hew,
And so I had to carve them both
Upon the self-same lines, in troth.
Had longer space been given, I should
Have carved Aladdin too in wood.

Architect.
Your tongue's expert; and now to see,
If as expert your fingers be!
(Uncovers the statues.)
What have we here? Ye heavenly hosts!
Gulnares indeed! A pair of ghosts!
No trace of her is here, I'm sure.

Sculptor.
Here all, sir, is in miniature;
So must her charms diminished be,
That all may tone in harmony.

Architect.
Tone! Harmony! You're crazed downright!
Your beauty is a perfect fright.
All goes from bad to worse. Ah, me!
What I'm to do, I cannot see.
The window is a botch, a vast
Bungle and daub from first to last!
(Trumpets.)
Hark! The sound fills my soul with awe.

All the Workmen.
The Sultan, with his son-in-law!

Aladdin's Palace.
The Great Hall. The window is finished. Soliman and Aladdin, with their Suite, equipped for the chase. Gulnare and her Nurse.
Soliman.
I never hoped for such a blithe old age,
Although with joy familiar all my days,
A prince by blood, and destined for the throne.
What shall I most admire in thee, my son?
Wealth hast thou, wisdom, love, a lion heart,
And such a power as ne'er before was man's.
Where shall we find a house, like this of thine?
'Twas well, that window was left incomplete,
That I might learn to prize the glorious work,
By proving my own incapacity.
Thou in a night didst the whole fabric rear,
Yet in a month my best artificers
Could not so much as finish this one window.
A word from thee, and there it stands complete.
Thy sword has scattered my rebellious subjecct,
And taught them due submission; yet hast thou
Given back two-fold to every man of them
The gold I levied, in the idle hope
To execute the promise I had made
About this single window.—And my daughter,
How tenderly thou lovest her! To me
Thou art the best of sons! Gulnare is right,
In calling thee a cherub; to my realm
Thou art like him, whose falchion guarded Eden.
Let us away, my son! The hunting horn
With cheery summons calls us to the glade.
I have appointed there some childish sport;
For he, that quells a rebel horde so soon,
Must deem it baby's play to hunt the tiger.—
Gulnare, my darling, for brief space farewell!

Gulnare.
Beloved father! Oh, my darling lord,
Leave the fell tiger free to range the forest,
And do not rashly give him cause to rend
The best of hearts in his infuriate rage.

Aladdin.
How womanly and tender are thy fears!
But what becomes thee as a woman, we
Must poise with what becometh us as men;
And that is, to be flattered by thy fears,
But not to share them. Sweet, farewell!

Gulnare.
And when wilt thou return?

Aladdin.
In two days, love!
Supposing the fell tiger rends me not.

Gulnare.
Thou triflest with my fears?

Aladdin.
I joy in them,
And know, thou lovest the fearlessness in me.
(Kisses her.)
Farewell, my bride! We soon shall meet again.

[Exeunt Aladdin, Soliman, and Suite.
The Nurse.
That's pretty tenderness! To go and leave
His youthful wife so calmly!

Gulnare.
Silence, nurse.
Think'st thou I'd love a puling shepherd boy?
Man's greatest charm is courage, pride, adventure,
For these are but the consciousness of power.
I do not love your silken smooth gallants.

Nurse.
It never yet vexed a brave woman's heart,
If in the play of lips a sturdy beard
Brushed her cheek somewhat roughly. Thou art right.
A weakling ne'er made a good lover yet,
And beard on chin is ever sure to win.
Time was, I've pined for such a beard myself.

[Exeunt.
Street.
Noureddin.
Yes, yes! 'Tis to the lamp he owes it all!
The palace is its work, and its alone.
And it lies yonder; 'tis not at the chase
With its possessor; 'tis in the great hall,
Thrust heedlessly behind a marble pillar.
This much I have deciphered by my art.
Success, I hope, will crown the plan I've framed;
Fails it, I'll straight essay some new device.
Here dwells a coppersmith—I need his aid.

(Knocks.)
Coppersmith
(enters from the house).
A stranger! Ho! Good day! Your servant, sir.
Pray, is your visit kindly meant for me?

Noureddin.
Master, it is.

Coppersmith.
Well, that is truly kind.
Will you allow me just one question? Are you
Come to the friend, or to the coppersmith?

Noureddin.
The coppersmith.

Coppersmith.
Oh excellent! In sooth,
That is more pleasant far to me, than if
You'd said the friend. Your calls of courtesy,
Too well I know them. They imply a breakfast,
Coffee, tobacco, loss of time and temper.
No, sir, he is the man for me, who wants
The coppersmith; he forages for me,
Not I for him. Now, dear, good, worthy sir,
Don't be alarmed, I will not run you hard!
But who,—forgive my asking,—could have told you,
The harumscarum smith lived in this street?
I've not yet hung my sign above my door;
The new, I mean, for there the old one hangs,
As it has hung these dozen years and more;
But shower and shine have licked his face as clean,
As my cat licks the platter. (Laughs.)
Ha, ha, ha!
You see, sir, I have fancies; I'm a poet,
And can make similes with cat and platter.
Ha, ha, ha, ha! But make your mind quite easy,
I've higher genius still for smithy work.
Who was it, now, directed you to me?

Noureddin.
No one! The people in this street of yours
Can't hear one speak, and so they answer not.
From one end of the street unto the other,
There's not the drum of even one ear unbroke,
You've taken care of that, my worthy friend!
But as I come from the barbarian waste,
Where only panthers, tigers, lions roar,
And have not altogether lost my hearing,
I could detect your presence six streets off.
I only had to follow up the din.

Coppersmith
(aside).
A cunning dog! (Aloud.)
My very worthy sir,
It is not I,—I am as mum's a mouse,—
But the infernal copper's always shrieking,
As though it felt a clasp-knife at its throat.
And I may thump at it from dawn till dark,
Yet never can I make it hold its peace.

Noureddin.
You really should try, by reason's force,
To bring it into ways more orderly,
And let it go unthumped.

Coppersmith.
Such treatment, sir,
We Asiatics do not understand!
I'll wager now, were I to take your counsel,
It would bewray itself with verdant gall,
And, ten to one, go fair to poison folks,
Who chanced to finger it. No, my dear sir,
Copper and woman-kind must both have blows,
As polish'd boots must daily be well black'd!
If you'd have leather pliant, curry it well.
But now to business! Wherein can I serve you?
You'd marry, and are furnishing a house?
Only step in, sir! You'll find coffee-pots,
Tea-urns, and kettles, admirably tinned.
A soldier, eh! Helmets I forge, and greaves,
As well as pots and kettles, worthy sir!
Who makes the one, can make the other too.

Noureddin.
I wish to have a dozen copper lamps.

Coppersmith.
St! St! Speak low, sir, an' you love me, pray!
My neighbour is a tallow-chandler, sir,
And hates a lamp worse than the pestilence.
But if 'tis lamps you want, step in with me,
And I will shew you lamps, give better light,
Ay, than the planets and the stars in heaven.

Noureddin.
Is this the way?

Coppersmith.
All right! Straight forward, sir!
But mind the step there—so! And do not soil
Your kaftan with the wall. Smithies will smoke.
Now, this way! Mind you do not bump your head
Against the beam. And now, sir, straight along.

[Exeunt.
Gulnare's Chamber.
Evening, towards sunset. Gulnare, seated at the open window, with a lute, singing.

Enter Gulnare's Nurse, laughing.
Nurse.
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Well, I am past my prime,
And many things I've seen. Ha! ha!

Gulnare.
Is that
A thing to laugh at?

Nurse.
No, to weep for, child.
But this is not the reason why I laugh;
No, no, 'tis something so ridiculous,
I never laughed in all my life before
With better cause.

Gulnare.
What is it?

Nurse.
It is a thing
To make folks in their senses weep. Lord, Lord,
The miserable devil! 'Tis really hard,
To lose one's wits so utterly as this!

Gulnare.
A sorry case, indeed. So, prithee, take
Good care to keep your own. What is the matter?

Nurse.
There's a man down there in the market-place,
Carries a basket full of fine new lamps;
The prettiest copper lamps were ever seen;
Ha, ha! and he is selling them; ha, ha!

Gulnare.
Well, I see nothing mad in that as yet.

Nurse.
Patience, my child! To sell, I grant you, is
Not madness; nay, 'tis excellent good sense,
When one can turn a profit by one's wares.
But what now would you fancy, the old ass
Is asking for a new lamp in exchange?

Gulnare.
I cannot say.

Nurse.
An old, a rusty one!

Gulnare.
How, want to get an old lamp for a new?

Nurse.
Now, isn't it a thing to make one split?

Gulnare.
Nonsense, you have misunderstood the man.

Nurse.
Not understood him? Wait! See, here he comes!
He's right beneath the window. Listen! Hark!
Judge for yourself, if you mistrust my ears.
(Noureddin is heard calling in the street—“New lamps for old ones! Who'll buy?”)
Now then, what say you? He, 'tis very plain,
In old lamps only traffics, not in new!
As I'm a sinner, 'tis the craziest wretch
That walks the earth! With what a haughty air
He looks about; what cunning in his eye,
As though he thought his lure was sure to take.
Dear, dear! Heaven pity the unhappy wretch!
Do you observe, how he keeps ogling us,
As though he meant to say,—Now, won't you buy?
My daughter, I've a notion in my head;
Two days ago I spied, in the great hall,
A battered, old, black, rusty copper lamp,
Lying behind a pillar, out of sight.
Some slave most probably had left it there.
What say you? Shall I send a servant straight,
Into the street to sell it to this fool.
I'm dying to make sure if he's in earnest,
Or only playing off some paltry hoax.
You've no objection, have you, ladybird?

Gulnare
(looking out).
'Tis very odd! There, sure enough, he stands,
And freely gives new lamps away for old.
He sees us now,—holds up his lamps to us,
Making them gleam and glitter in the sun.
They're really pretty things, these copper lamps:
I have a great mind to have one of them.

Nurse.
Do, darling, do; it would be glorious.
They are so neat, and quite as bright as gold.
A lamp like that is most convenient;
A lamp like that—

Gulnare.
Away, and get one of them!
[Exit Nurse.
There's something in the features of the man,
That I should know. He has a gloomy look.
Poor soul! How could he well look otherwise?
His brain is crazed, that's easy to be seen.
And yet—ah, I'm a child, a very child!

Nurse
(returns).
I have dispatch'd a slave into the street
With the old rusty lamp.

Gulnare.
Oh tell me, nurse,
Does it not strike you, that this crazy wretch
Resembles very strongly some one else,
Whose features are familiar to you?

Nurse.
No.
You know I live a very private life,
And to the madhouse I have never been;
There, doubtless, there be many quite as bad.

Gulnare.
Do you remember, nurse, the pretty tale
Aladdin told us once about the boy,
Whom the magician wickedly contrived
To shut within the cave, when he refused
To give him up the treasure he had found there?

Nurse.
I only heard the first part of the tale.
The fact is, that when any one begins
A doleful story, I go fast asleep,
Else weep I must. I have a tender heart,
And cannot bear to have my feelings racked.
But what should bring this tale into your head?

Gulnare.
You know, that even from childhood every tale
I heard became as real to my mind,
As it had passed before my eyes. The people
Appeared like the acquaintances of years;
The place, a spot I had myself explored.
Thus in that boy I evermore have seen
No other than Aladdin. The magician
I've pictured to myself; and is't not strange?
The image, which my fancy fashioned, bears
A marvellous resemblance to this man.

Nurse.
Accident, pure accident, my precious pet,
A simple trick of fancy, take my word.
But hush, the slave approaches with the lamp.
Ha, now the comedy begins indeed.
See, what delight is sparkling in his eyes,
The stupid dolt! We cannot be too grateful,
That all our faculties are spared to us.
Just look; he lets the slave choose which he will.
Oh, if he'd only take that little one!
He takes the biggest! Abou, oh you dunce,
Why didn't you pick out the smallest? Fool!
Well, well, it doesn't signify; the big one
Is very pretty. And a well-sized lamp
Burns better than a small one all the night.
Look there! The bargain's struck. And the poor fool
Turns up the street among the little boys.
He looks nor left nor right, but holds straight on,
For all the world as if he'd found a prize.
He turns the corner.—Now he's out of sight.
(Looks at the Princess.)
Good gracious me, my child, what ever ails you?
You tremble and look pale.

Gulnare.
Alas, dear nurse,
I feel a sudden sinking at the heart,
A strange misgiving—

Nurse.
Wait, my sweetest, wait!
I'll fetch the camphor mixture instantly.
(Aside, as she goes off.)
The pretty darling! Here be signs indeed!
Well, all is as it should be. They are young:
She is a handsome woman, he a man;
None of your Saladins, to freeze and quake
All night upon the house-top. Ah, young rogue,
Could I have ever dreamt such things of you,
When I have seen you with your toys at play?
Well, 'tis the course of nature; every age
Has its peculiar toys to play withal.

[Exit.
Gulnare
(seats herself at the window, and leaning her head upon her hand, gazes out upon the landscape).
The sun has scarcely set behind the wood,
And see, where shines the moon, a fiery red!
The evening roses 'gin to droop and pale,
And the cold night-wind moans among the trees.
From the horizon clouds are rising fast,
And all the arch of heaven grows sad and drear,—
A funeral vault, where through a broken wall
Of rifted clouds the sickly moonbeams shine;
The beautiful glad lamp of day has sunk,—
Darkness doth shroud the world as with a pall,
And from their lairs do noisome serpents crawl.

(Falls into a reverie.)
The Open Country.
Night. Storm and Rain. Noureddin with the lamp in his hand.
I have it! Joy! I have it! Here it is!
'Tis here, here, in my right hand, fast and sure!
Pale star, I do not fear to show it thee,
Thy seat is far too high, and far too fixed,
For thee to come and rob me of my prize.
Behold, then, star! Look from thy patch of blue,
Thou only orb, in all the vast of heaven,
Here is the lamp! This poor green copper thing,
Which in my hand I clutch with nervous gripe,
Lest I should lose it, like that heedless fool!
'Tis night, midnight, and gloomy as the grave.
Nature herself has aided me, and donn'd
Her blackest mantle, to obscure my course
From every eye. Good! Courage, then, Noureddin!
I quake in very terror of my power!
Should this not be the true lamp after all?
The doubt sends a cold shiver thro' my bones.
(Looks round.)
Am I alone? Alone! As Adam was
In Paradise, when all the world as yet
Was subject to his sway. Now for the proof!

(Rubs the lamp.)
The Spirit
(appears, and says in a loud voice).
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 master, to fulfil as soon as known!

Noureddin
(drops the lamp in affright; the Spirit vanishes; he lifts it again, and says),
Stay, stay! Again I grasp it! Stay!

Spirit
(re-appears).
I stay.

Noureddin.
Art thou the famous slave that serves the ring?

Spirit.
Not famous! No. A mystery.

Noureddin.
Dear Djin,
I'm so confused, I know not what I say.
Canst thou procure me whatsoe'er I wish?

Spirit.
Thou'st heard so.

Noureddin.
Thou speak'st little.

Spirit.
Act the more!

Noureddin.
If, for example, I should be so bold
As order—don't be angry, I but ask,
And asking certainly is not a crime—
If, for example, I should be so bold,
As order you to carry off myself,
Aladdin's palace, bride, and everything,
That is within the palace at this moment,
Into the wilds of Ethiopia?

Spirit.
I'd execute thy wish without a word.

Noureddin.
So easily?

Spirit
(moodily).
As the hyena gulps its prey.

Noureddin.
In the lamp's power, thy duty, then, fulfil.

Spirit.
More swiftly than thy thoughts can fly, I will.

[Vanishes with Noureddin.