University of Virginia Library

ACT SECOND.

The Sultan's Palace.
Morning. The Sultan rises from his couch.
Soliman.
It is a lovely morning! Yes, Aladdin,
I would not take your word, but you were right;
Another day you linger'd for the chase,
But the impending rain-clouds drove me home.
I wonder if my daughter yet is risen?
Dear usage, ever as I quit my couch,
To seek my window, and receive the greeting
Of my dear children from their palace there—
It nerves me for the labours of the day.
(Advances to the window and looks out.)
How? What? Good Heavens! Can I be still asleep?
Still dreaming? Allah, have I lost my sight?
Yet, mighty Mahomet, I see all else
Around me plain enough! There stands my bed;
Here is the window; here the street; and there
The houses—But, in Heaven's name, where's
Aladdin's palace? Where my daughter? Where?
(Calls out. Enter the officer on guard.)
Ha, Casem, answer quickly! Where, my son,
Where stands my bed?

Casem.
Thy bed, most potent king?

Soliman.
I said, my bed! Did you not hear me, sir?

Casem.
'Tis there.

Soliman.
Now, tell me where the window is.

Casem.
There, most sage Sultan!

Soliman.
Now the garden plots.

Casem.
The garden plots?

Soliman.
Yes, yes, the garden plots.

Casem
(aside).
Ah, Persia's Sultan, sure, has lost his wits.
(Aloud.)
There, mighty Sultan!

Soliman.
Excellent! But as you
Know all things, and my questions tickle you,
Pray show me something bigger than all these,—
Where stands Aladdin's palace?

Casem.
(points out of the window, without looking).
There, my lord!

Soliman.
Where?
(Gives him a box on the ear with such vehemence as to cause him to spin round.)
Please to turn your precious head about.

Casem.
There! Ha, most potent—

Soliman.
Where's the palace, eh,
Thou oyster-headed knave?

Casem.
Heaven only knows.
But yesterday 'twas there.

Soliman.
That's not the point;
Go, bid the Vizir come to me at once!

Casem.
He came into the palace even now.
'Tis his accustomed time. See, here he comes!

Enter Vizir. Exit Casem.
Soliman.
Vizir!

Vizir.
Illustrious Sultan, are you ill?
What ails the gracious majesty of Persia?
Your face is flush'd, your eyes are rolling wild.

Soliman.
So then, you too are ignorant what has chanced?
Did you not pass Aladdin's palace, eh?

Vizir.
Yes, mighty Sultan, as I always do,
Whene'er my duty calls me to your throne.

Soliman.
And you saw nothing?

Vizir.
Nothing, good my Lord!

Soliman.
By Mecca and Medina, you are right;
There is not even a fragment to be seen.
Ha—what I meant was,—did you not observe
Some most uncommon change there as you pass'd?

Vizir.
To speak the simple truth, my noble liege,
When I am on my way to the divan,
I have so many matters in my head,
I neither cast my eyes to left nor right;
For fear I should be hindered or distracted.
And, what is more, you know, my gracious Lord—

Soliman.
That in your eyes the palace was a thorn?
Well well, the thorn's extracted now, my friend!
And as a proof—you see much further now,
With your cured optics, than you did before.
You could not see beyond the palace once,
Now you may gaze for miles and miles beyond.

Vizir.
Ha!

Soliman.
Well! Didst ever see so mad a freak?

Vizir.
So mad? Why, yes, my noble liege and Sultan,
Undoubtedly I have, and so have you!

Soliman.
How, I?

Vizir.
When first you saw the palace there,
Was that one jot more comprehensible,
Than its evaporation is to-day?
Now I may speak. I'm not the least surprised.
This turn is of a piece with all the rest.
Aladdin's a magician, that is clear,
A vile magician, sire, who envied me
My great good fortune, so betray'd my son,
Cruelly robb'd him of his wife's affections,
With his enchantments dazzled you, and won
Your daughter. Now his appetite is cloy'd,
And so the magic fabric melts in air.

Soliman.
Oh, Allah, Allah! Oh, my daughter, oh!

Vizir.
A heavy blow, indeed!

Soliman.
My daughter, oh!

Vizir.
Has she, then, vanished too?

Soliman.
All's gone! My daughter,
My darling child Gulnare, my heart's delight!

Vizir.
This is a sight to touch one to the quick!
The mighty majesty of Persia tears
The hair in maddened anguish from his beard,
Weeps tears in torrents like a child, and flings
Himself like any slave upon the ground.
Oh, miscreant, where, where hast thou hid her, where?

Soliman.
Ha, 'twas for this the traitor wished to hunt
Another day? And now he has escaped.

Vizir.
Who knows? We'll leave no single stone unturned.
I will despatch a troop of soldiers straight,
To hunt the forest thickets through and through;
And if they find him, they shall drag the wretch,
Bound hand and foot before your majesty.

Soliman.
If he be found—no—he will not be found;
But if he be, and shall not instantly
Confess where he has hid my daughter, bind
The traitor, and conduct him to the scaffold!
There let his caitiff blood the vengeance cool
That now is burning in my father's breast.

[Exit Vizir hastily.
A Shady Dell in the Forest.
Aladdin discovered asleep on the sward, under a huge tree, near a brook.
Lympha
(a little fairy, clad in azure, comes down the brook, sailing upon a large leaf, with a water-lily in her hand, and sings),

(Strikes the water menacingly with her flower.)
Zephyr
(a little boy, comes riding through the air on a rose-leaf, in a robe of silver-tissue).
Sa, sa, hark away,
By night and by day,
O'er mountain and mead,
My mettlesome steed,
And fill all the air
With an odour most rare!
Down dale and up hill,
Sweep onward at will,
Over mountain and plain!
I give you full rein.
How it bounds, how it springs!
A fico for wings!
It circles and swerves
In eddies and curves;
More fleet and more airy
Than ever was car.
Ha! look at yon fairy!
She's bright as a star!
A shade or so paler,
But sweeter by far.
That beautiful sailor,
Her love, it were bliss!
On, steed, soft and sleek!
From her balm-breathing cheek
Let us rifle a kiss.

(Steals behind Lympha and kisses her.)
Lympha.

(Washes off the kiss with the water of the spring.)
Zephyr.
Why, Lympha, repel me?
Be gracious and gay!
Why seekest thou, tell me,
The water to-day?

Lympha.
Tush, where could I be
Half so blest, foolish boy?
The water to me
Is a cradle and joy.

Zephyr.
Then turn, sweet, to me;
Be kind to my sighing!
(Observes Aladdin, and speaks softly,)
What man can it be,
On the grass there is lying?

Lympha.
The gallantest knight
In peace or in fight.
'Tis for this I am here,—
To whisper the stream,
That it come not too near
To the slumberer's dream;
That it sing a low song,
As it winds by its ledges,
And, sparkling along
Through the rushes and sedges,
Whisper, softly and mild,
A “Slumber, my child!”

Zephyr.
Do, Lympha, do try!
Thou ever art good.
No longer will I
On thy silence intrude.
With a hush even deeper,
So thou but approve,
I'll play round the sleeper,
And warily move.
And freshness and fragrance
Shall fan and caress him,
And with their sweet vagrance
Shall cool and shall bless him.

Rides off and flutters several times over Aladdin; in his eagerness he makes a false movement, comes in contact with the sleeper's nose, and is knocked from his horse. Aladdin moves in his sleep.
Lympha.
All my purpose you mar!
Fine care you have taken?
How awkward you are!
See, Aladdin doth waken!

Zephyr
(piteously).
Ah, Lympha, my queen, would
I never had tried!

Lympha.
Away from the greenwood
Now swiftly I glide.

(Sails away.)
Zephyr
(looking after her with tears in his eyes).
Again am I humbled!
Well, can I complain?
I have tripp'd, and have stumbled,
And blundered again.
What have they not lost me,
These mad pranks of mine?
What tears have they cost me,
What heart-ache and pine?
Intent to assuage her,
I've vow'd to amend,
To be wiser and sager,
And ne'er to offend.
But the vow scarce was taken,
Ere I erred as at first.
(Looks at Aladdin.)
Yes, in sooth he doth waken!
Oh stumble accursed!

(Goes off dejectedly.)
Aladdin
(rises and looks round him).
Oh lovely morning! How the dawning light,
Through the green branches breaking, cheers my soul!
Fatigue has vanish'd with the shades of night,
And with new life the sunshine fills my veins.
How freshly gleams the dew upon the grass!
This little rose-leaf presses on my cheek:
It tickles me, as though it meant to say,
My friend sleeps longer than 'tis meet he should!
Thanks for thy homage, thou sweet silvery brook,
Thy cradle-song has lulled me into sleep.
What beauty meets my gaze, where'er I turn!
Oh, if thou too wert here, my darling bride!
Then were this flowery galaxy complete.
But now 'midst all its wealth I feel a void;
Without thee, everything looks cold and sad,
As looks a coronal without a rose.
(Falls into a reverie.)
How happy am I? This delightful morning,
So bright and tranquil, gently laps my soul
In joyful contemplation of its bliss!
How bounteously has Fate ta'en thought for me!
The husband of the fairest, best of women,
Lord of a wondrous power, which at a word
Fulfils my every wish, without demur.
The Sultan's son-in-law, Sultan to be!
Strong, not uncomely, healthy, sage, and bold:
How in this blessed hour of dawn I feel
All the luxuriance of my youthful life!
'Tis many a day since I have pray'd to God!
Ah, in the whirl of sublunary joys,
The heedless heart is little apt to turn
To the great source of all. Thou noiseless wood,
Ye verdant avenues, ye dark brown trunks,
That are the Almighty's worthiest, noblest shrine!
Here do I kneel! Oh Holy Father, look
Into my heart! I can but weep! Yet thou
Scorn'st not the meanest of thy children's tears.

(Enter the Sultan's guard, who, observing Aladdin, close upon him, and are about to manacle him).
Aladdin
(springs to his feet and draws his sword).
Ha, what is this? Back, robbers, thievish scum!

Guard.
In us behold the Sultan's body-guard.

Aladdin.
What would you?

Guard.
In accordance with his orders
Bear you away in chains; hear and obey!

Aladdin.
Tell me what I have done.

Guard.
That thou shalt hear.

Aladdin.
And where would you convey me?

Guard.
To the scaffold.

(They lead him off.)
Zephyr
(advances in dismay).
Ah, Lympha, Lympha, Lympha!

Lympha
(from the brook).
Zephyr! Zephyr!

Zephyr.
Didst hear this sad catastrophe?

Lympha.
My fast-falling tears canst thou not see?

Zephyr.
Ha, these mortals, what churls they are!
But wait! By Allah's seats of bliss,
They shall pay, and dearly too, for this.
I'll get me homeward, and swiftly afar
O'er wood and o'er turret my course I'll hold,
Till I come to my father, the storm-wind old.
He shall start from his slumber, and, wild with ire,
Shall bind to his chariot his steeds of fire;
With nostrils wide and with streaming mane,
They shall course through the welkin, a wondrous train.
He shall don his storm-cap, and shriek command,
With a club gigantic in either hand;
Thus shall he avenge this ill-starred wight
On the tyrant's realm with a tyrant's might.

Lympha.
Ah, how I tremble! Alas the day!
But wait, vile Sultan, I'll punish thee!
Since thou art so cruel, I'll post away
To my mother, that loves me, the salt salt sea.
She shall dash on the foaming strand,
And spread disaster on every hand.
She shall rage, and your argosies
Shall be rent and shent on the ruthless seas!
The hardiest mariners' hearts shall quail
At the scud and the strain of the seething gale.
She shall scatter the wreck, with a laugh of scorn,
As thy ships by the surges are racked and torn,
Tossing about on the tumbling sea,
To avenge my friend, and to punish thee.

A Dungeon.
Aladdin
(chained, with heavy fetters, to a stone).
Almighty God, is this a dream? A dream!
Yes, yes, it is a dream; I slumber still,
Among the wild flowers, in yon shady wood.
The vision fair of zephyr and the brook
Has shifted to a dismal tragedy.
It is a dream, a phantasm of the clouds,
Where, as some light wind stirs, the shepherdess
Becomes a fiery dragon, belching flame;
The tree a giant, with arm raised to strike.

Deathwatch
(in a crevice of the wall).
Pi, pi, pi,
Ne'er shalt thou go free!

Aladdin.
Who was it spoke? 'Tis the deathwatch. Again?

Deathwatch.
Pi, pi, pi,
Ne'er shalt thou go free!

Aladdin.
Is this the only carol thou hast learned,
Thou hermit small, who in the loneliness
Of crumbling gaps and crazy masonry,
Sing'st but of death, corruption, and decay?

Deathwatch.
Pi, pi, pi,
Ne'er shalt thou go free!

Aladdin.
Too true! Thou speak'st with so assured a voice,
I must believe thy words, do what I may.
Prophet of evil, hour-glass of grim death,
Who, who hath sent thee to my dungeon here,
To torture me with thy funereal song?

Deathwatch.
Pi, pi, pi,
Thou shalt ne'er go free!

Aladdin.
It cannot change its note, though fain it would.
'Tis but a sound, a beating of its mouth,
As they who watch such creatures well have shown.
“Pi, pi!” is all it sings; the “ne'er go free!”
Is but the addition which my fancy makes;
'Tis I that hear these words, it sings them not.

Deathwatch.
Thou shalt ne'er go free!

Aladdin.
Ha, insect, there again? What! dost thou think,
With a mere word, to scatter to the winds
The faith of my assured conviction?

Deathwatch.
Pi!

Aladdin.
Howe'er it be, hope has abandoned me!
This brief reiterated warning song
Has struck all nerve and manhood from my heart,
And filled the void with paralytic fears.
Yes, it is clear; it must, it must be so.
The enchanter now is master of the lamp:
Nought but itself could its own work undo.
Ha, Heedlessness, thou damnèd serpent, who
Drove Adam from his paradise of yore,
Thou art the marrer of all earthly bliss;
Thou art the real fiend, the tempter thou,
Who sow'st the seeds of mischief in good hearts,
And diggest pitfalls, Satan-like, for health,
Virtue, and happiness, that so mankind
Drops unawares into the pit of hell.
There am I now, through thee, through thee alone!—
How darkly do these cramp'd walls close me in!
And hark! the tempest shrieking, as it beats
Against the turret walls! 'Tis midnight now.
Night, night! Oh, God! And I must dread the dawn!—
The glorious dawn, for which all earth doth yearn,
Beneath whose kiss men's eyes, the dreaming flowers,
Ope to be blest, scares me alone! It brings
Life to all other men, but death to me.
(The moon breaks through a cloud and shines into the prison.)
Grows it so bright? Now day begins to break,—
Now comes the headsman! No, it was the moon.
Why comest thou to me, thou smiling ghost?
Is it to tell me, I am not the first,
Upon whose wan and blood-forsaken cheeks
Thou hast looked down, the night before his death,
As he lay gyved upon his couch of stone,
And wished for wings, to bear him far away,
Where hungry axe yearned not for morning's light,
To cleave the head from his poor bleeding trunk?
Is it to tell me, that to-morrow night
Thou wilt salute my head upon the stake?
Thou cruel moon, grim phantom of the night,
How often hast thou bent, with smile divine,
As on the bosom of my bride I lay,
And nightingales, from dusky groves hard by,
Did voice our mute felicity in song!
Then, then I called thee good, and fair, and kind;
And yet thy cold, remorseless cruelty,
Thy silent, savage hate, are measureless.
Thy visage wears the same indifferent smile
For rack and gibbet, as for myrtle groves.
Thy self-same ray, that beamed upon my bliss,
And kissed the couch of innocence and love,
Has smiled on the assassin's gory blade,
And churchyard stones, that not more heavily
Weigh down the lifeless dust, than doth despair
Those that are left to mourn. And comest thou now,
To mock me in the hour of my distress?
Hence, pallid ghoul! Disturb not the repose
Of innocence in the hour when it must die!
(The moon is obscured by clouds.)
By Heaven, she flies! She hides her pallid face
Behind the fleecy silver clouds, in grief,
As doth an innocent girl her blushing cheeks,
When she would smother up, behind her veil,
The tears wrung from her by ungentleness.
Oh, if my hasty words have done thee wrong,
Thou guiltless moon, forgive me—oh, forgive me!
I am so very wretched; what I say
And do, I know not! I am guiltless, too;
Yet must I suffer, guiltless I must die.
But see! what tiny ray breaks brightly in,
Like an ethereal finger, from the cloud,
And points to yon great spider, as he sits,
Right in the centre of his airy web,
In calm content and full serenity.

The Spider.

Aladdin.
Ha, spider, strong in simple piety!
Far better comforter than Dervish thou.
His threads in wisdom out and in He weaves,
Nor even the tiniest unregarded leaves.
Now doth He call me back into His care.
Shall I then curse my fate? Shall I despair?
No! Welcome, Death! Though cold and gaunt thou come,
Thou only lead'st me to my Father's home.
(Throws himself on his knees, and sings, with a loud, joyful voice,)

(Stretches himself calmly upon his pallet, and falls asleep.)
The Place of Execution.
The Sultan, seated, with his Vizirs and Courtiers, upon an elevated platform. A crowd of spectators. The Headsman and his Assistants.
Soliman.
By Heaven, my people, yea, the world knows well
I am no tiger, do not thirst for blood.
But Justice ever will have blood for blood,
And my own blood is nearest to my heart.
Gulnare, my child, sweet lily! who can tell,
To what fell purpose thou hast fallen a prey!
Yes, by Almighty Allah and his prophet,
I am a tiger, when I think of this.
Bring forth the criminal!

Vizir.
See, here he comes!

Enter Aladdin, surrounded by the Guard, his Mother following.
Captain of the Guard
(to Morgiana).
You cannot follow further. Get ye gone!

Morgiana.
Oh God, my son, and must I leave thee now?

Aladdin.
We soon shall meet again.

Morgiana
(bursts into tears and embraces him).
Yes, very soon.
Already, near the mosque, outside the walls,
Where, as a boy, you liked so well to play,
I have bespoke two graves, beside your father's,—
Mine on his right hand, yours upon his left.

Guard.
How! Buried? He? No, bound upon the wheel,
A dainty tidbit for the birds of heaven!

Morgiana.
The birds of heaven? Oh, thou ill-omen'd bird!
Think'st thou, heaven's birds are murderers like you?
No, no, the little kindly, gentle things,
So pure, so full of piety, that they
Are ever soaring up from earth to heaven,
How should they do a hurt to innocence?

Guard.
Hence, woman!

(She swoons and is carried away.)
Aladdin.
My poor old mother, go thy way in peace!
Simple thou wert, but ever good and true,
And ever loved me with a mother's love.
All that thou couldst thou didst for me alway,
And span o' nights that I by day might eat.
Alas, alas! small comfort have I been
To thee, dear mother! Thou didst ever think,
My happiness would come to doleful end;
So hath it proved! Oh, suffering prophetess,
God be thy stay! In heaven we'll meet again!
(Kneels upon the sand.)
I've nothing now to bind me to the world,
Except my love! But thou, oh holy love,
Thou art immortal as the eternal soul!
My loved one, I shall find her yet; but here,
Here I have lost her through my heedlessness,
So let my life-blood flow!
(To the Headsman.)
Come, do thy duty!

Headsman.
First I must bind this kerchief on your eyes.

Aladdin.
No need of that. Free let me have my eyes,
That the immortal soul may freely pass.
I do not fear the light. Quick, do thy duty!

(Tumult; the crowd press in.)
Voices.
Aladdin's innocent, let him go free!

Soliman.
Ha, what is that?

Multitude.
Aladdin's innocent!

(The Headsman swings his sword above his head, and awaits with impatience the signal from the Sultan.)
Multitude.
Aladdin's innocent, let him go free!
He is our friend, and we will rescue him,
Sagest in council, boldest in the field,
The shield and champion of the oppressed,
The comeliest Persian, and the noblest he,
And you would kill him. Down! Down with the guard!
To the rescue!

Soliman.
Oh, inconstant, blinded fools,
Would you, then, save your Sultan's bitterest foe?

Multitude.
No, he is not thy foe! But Nuschirwan,
The Grand Vizir, behead him, an' thou wilt!
He is thy foe, because he is Aladdin's.
Off with his head by all means, as we're here
To see an execution! Not a man
In all the city, but will be delighted!

Soliman
(to the Grand Vizir).
What say they?

Vizir.
Oh, my liege, 'tis merely clamour—
Mere inarticulate, insensate clamour;
Which means but this—Aladdin shall not die.

Multitude.
Ho, set him free! Aladdin shall not die!
To the rescue!

Soliman
(stands up and exclaims),
Pardon!
(To the Headsman.)
Throw away thy sword!
My people has pronounced its judgment here,
And I cannot withstand the general voice.
Aladdin's pardoned!

Multitude.
Mahomet defend
The mighty Soliman! Aladdin's pardoned!

Vizir
(aside to the Sultan).
To prison I will have him straight conveyed,
And there the righteous sentence execute,
Which this blind popular fury here prevents.

Soliman
(incensed).
Peace, slave! Go bring Aladdin to me here.
(Aladdin is brought.)
Not that the people claim it, but because
Thy guilt has not been clearly proved on thee,
I grant thee time to prove thine innocence.
Thy doings always were mysterious:
This may be nothing but some magic sleight,
And thou mayst set the whole to rights again;
Then swear to me, by Allah's sacred name,
That thou, within the space of forty days,
Wilt bring me back my daughter and the palace,
Or, failing this, die by a felon's doom.

Aladdin.
Oh noble Sultan, suffer me to speak!

Soliman.
Peace! Swear, or die this moment! Swear, I say!

Aladdin.
I swear to thee, by Allah's glorious name,
That I to thee the palace and Gulnare
Will in the space of forty days restore,
Or gladly undergo a felon's doom.

Soliman.
Break'st thou this oath, thou'rt evermore accursed.
And that curse bears a heavier doom than death.
Unloose his fetters; he is free to go.

[Exit the Sultan, with his suite. The multitude separate.
The Headsman
(to his Assistants).
A plague upon this tender-heartedness!
'Twas all for nothing that I left my bed,
To whet my broad sword by the early cock?
Confound the knave, I've had my toil for nought!
If I had only got the Grand Vizir,
For lack of better, underneath my blade!
But no, the fellow's slippery as an eel.
Come, bundle up your tools, and start for home.
I must be off! I'll have no peace, until
I've chopp'd the head off of a crowing cock.
I drank this morning tiger's blood, you know;
Blood I must see, else nothing right will go.

[Exit.
Assistant
(takes out his breakfast, sings and eats, while he packs up his implements).

[Exit.
A Street.
Aladdin, in a coarse linen frock, knocks at the door of his Mother's house. A strange man comes out.
Man.
What do you want, friend?

Aladdin.
Will you tell me, pray,
If the old Morgiana be at home?

Man.
Ay, that she is, nor like to leave it soon,
Else I am much out in my reckoning.

Aladdin.
Why?
Ailing, perhaps?

Man.
She ails for nothing, sir.

Aladdin.
I'm very glad of that. I bring her news,
Important news, and must have speech with her.

Man.
I'm grieved to say, then, you have come too late.
She's in no state to talk with any one.

Aladdin.
Is she within there in her little room?

Man.
Her little room? Oh yes, oh yes, she's there;
But not here in the house.

Aladdin.
No? Where else, then?

Man.
Beneath the cypress, in the burial-ground.

Aladdin.
Ah, now I understand you! She is dead.
And you have bought this cottage recently?

Man.
Precisely so.

Aladdin.
Friend, would you be so kind,
As let me for a moment see the room,
She lived and died in?

Man.
Very willingly!
You'll find it just as 'twas a week ago;
All the old furniture, down to her spindle.
I'm at a loss what to do with the things.
The crazy bits of sticks are worthless quite,
And the old lady has no heir; her son
Has forfeited both goods and life.

Aladdin.
Indeed!

Man.
It was a hard case, hers, the good old soul!
She died of downright grief about her son.
The good-for-nothing varlet!

Aladdin.
(Aside.)
Oh most sage!
Thou pipest thy solemn sentences by rote,
In placid ignorance of time and tune.—
(Aloud.)
By your permission, I would go within.

Man.
Oh, certainly; but you'll excuse me, friend,
From waiting on you; I'm pinch'd for time,
And full of business.

Aladdin.
Prithee, then, begone,
And do not waste your time in talking more.

[Exit into the house.
Morgiana's Room.
Aladdin.
Ha! The old spinning-wheel still there! No more
Its busy whirr comes from the corner now.
To such an ancient friend a man grows used,
And feels a strangeness, when its clack is dumb.
There's still a little wool upon the spindle;
I'll do as though my mother's self were here—
I'll set me down and spin, and sing the while.
(Sits down, sings, and bursts into tears.)
No, this will never do! It does not go
In the old wonted cadence, even and calm;
I turn the wheel too wildly, feverishly.
Oh, God, to think, this little slender thread,
'Twas her hand span it! It is sound and whole,
Hangs undisturbed, unhurt, as when she left it;
But she, the Fate that span it, she lies stark,
With stiffen'd fingers, 'neath the cypress-tree.
Ah me! there hangs her old silk mantle still,
Lined with warm flannel! Here her slippers! Now,
Thou freezest, mother, through thine aged limbs!
This house thou never wouldst consent to leave,
Nor ever quit thy former way of life.
I, vain, presumptuous, aspiring fool,
Brought early ruin on thy gentle, fond,
And peaceful nature! Ah, ye strangers, you,
Who shall hereafter occupy this chamber,
When you shall hear a clack and whirr o' nights,
Be not afraid; it is a faithful, kind
House-fairy; let her turn her humming wheel,
'Twill harm you not! She was a woman once,
Who for her son's sake span the very skin
From off her fingers—and for her reward
He slew her. Yes, I slew her—yes, I did!
(Sits down and weeps.)
There stands her water-pitcher still. And see,
A leaf, half withered, sticking to the rim!
That leaf am I; it is a type of me!
(He gazes for a long while with wild looks upon the place where the Wonderful Lamp used to hang; then says, with a wandering air,)
By Heaven, there hangs the lamp still on the nail!
(Springs up and makes a grasp at it.)
How? Fanciest thou I cannot seize thee?
(Takes a chair, stands upon it, and seizes the nail.)
Ha!
I have thee now. Now thou art mine again.
Now will I find Gulnare once more, regain
The palace, all my old magnificence,
When I have visited my mother's grave!

(Comes down from the chair.)
The Owner of the House
(entering).
Well, have you seen, friend, all you wished to see?
She was a kinswoman?

Aladdin.
She was, she was.
I would be going. Will you let me take
This rusty copper lamp away with me?
'Tis scarcely worth a penny.

Owner.
Lamp, my friend?
I see no lamp.

Aladdin.
Open your eyes! Behold!
The lamp is here, here in my right hand. Look!
'Tis, as they say, but rusty trumpery.
Sir, I collect such queer old odds and ends,
And so this lamp, to others valueless,
Has a mere fancy value for myself.

Owner.
Indeed, friend, you have nothing in your hand.

Aladdin
(aside).
The lamp has gained this further property,
That it to strangers is invisible?
Oh rare! It never can be stolen from me.
(Aloud, placing the imaginary lamp in his bosom.)
Since you're so positive, I too believe,
The lamp is some mere phantom of my brain.
Adieu, good sir, and thanks. Pray, let me take
This withered leaf from out her pitcher here?
My turban it shall as a feather deck;
And of her heritage no more seek I.
Farewell!

Owner.
Poor soul, he's manifestly mad.
Pray take the leaf, good man, and go your ways.

Aladdin.
Farewell, kind sir! Have you no greeting, none,
To carry to the aged Morgiana?
I'm going to her grave.

Owner.
My compliments!
(Aside.)
A madman must be spoken madly to!
(Aloud.)
You must make haste, for just about this time
It is her wont to rise up from her grave,
And walk about a little for her health.
'Tis bad to lie so constantly one way;
It cramps the joints.

Aladdin.
Most true and wisely spoken!
Are you a doctor, that you know so much
About dead people's health?

Owner.
Not I, my friend;
I am a currier.

Aladdin.
So, too, is the doctor.
He currieth the hide so fine and soft,
The cobbler worm can riddle it easily.
Farewell, sir doctor!

Owner.
Sir, your most obedient!

Aladdin.
And as you've curried such a host of calves,
I promise you I'll curry you in turn,
Night after night, my friend, when I am dead.

Owner.
Don't give yourself the trouble—don't, I pray.

Aladdin.
No trouble in the world! None, none! Adieu!

[Exit.
Cemetery.
Aladdin
(upon his mother's grave; he moves as though he were rocking a cradle, and sings,)

[Exit.
The Great Square before the Palace.
Aladdin on the spot where his palace had stood, surrounded by the Populace.
Aladdin.
Now you shall see! The hour has struck, and now,
Ye ruthless hearts of stone, ye shall not scoff,
Nor mock at me and jeer me any more,
Nor pelt me any more with stones and mud.
One single little word, but one, and lo!
There stands my palace once again, and I
Fold my beloved in transport to my heart.
(Makes a gesture as if taking something from his breast.)
Look here, sir! See'st thou this old copper lamp?

A Peasant.
Where, beggar prince?

Aladdin.
Look to thy manners, sir,
And call me not a beggar prince, thou churl!
I know thee very well. Was it not thou,
I once encountered in a storm of rain?
Then thou couldst fling thyself upon thy face,
That I might set my feet upon thy back,
And so preserve my slippers from the mud.

Peasant.
But times are changed.

Aladdin.
Now, by the lamp, which here
In my right hand I hold aloft to heaven,
I will chastise thee!

Peasant.
A brave oath!

Aladdin.
Ha, scum,
That which thou see'st not with thy idiot eyes,
Thou'lt not believe. But wait, thou varlet, wait!
(Rubs.)
Seest thou the Spirit, the Spirit of the Lamp?

Peasant.
Of course we do! As stiff as any post,
And carrying the lamp—I mean, the lantern!

Aladdin
(solemnly).
By the lamp's might I do command thee, slave,
To fetch me straight the palace and Gulnare!
Thereafter this most vulgar knave to seize,
And on the lamp-post hang him by the heels.
(To the crowd.)
Take care! The palace like a blast will come.
Out of its way! or it will crush you all!
(Runs to one side; great laughter; Aladdin, after waiting a few seconds, makes a motion as though he were throwing away the lamp.)
Ha, this, then, was a spurious copper lamp!
Treachery, treachery! What slave of ye all
Has basely robbed me of my property?
(They laugh.)
Oh yes, laugh on! Weeping will come betimes.
You fancy vengeance is beyond my power.

(Snatches up a stone from the pavement, and flings it at the mob; some run away, others make a rush at him. Enter an Old Man.)
Old Man.
For shame, for shame! Torment not the poor youth!
Thank God, your reason has been spared to you!
Hence to your home, my friend, and no more words.

Aladdin.
I will go home immediately, kind sir!
But 'tis far off; I am a stranger here.
Last night I slept within the ruined tower,
In the lone forest. Can you help me, friend,
With a small calculation? Tell me, will you,
Of forty days how many will remain,
If nine-and-thirty be already spent?

Old Man.
Why, only one remains, that's very clear.

Aladdin
(dejectedly).
But one, but only one! Oh, count again!
Perhaps you've made some error in your tale.
Are there not three, kind sir? I thought there were.
No? Two, then, surely, at the very least?
I pray you, reckon once again! The toil
Is small—the issue life or death to me.

Old Man.
Just one is left; you cannot make it more.

Aladdin.
Not make it more! Well, well, God's will be done!
I have grown used to suffer and endure.
But one? That is not much. Is it not so?
That's very little, eh?

Old Man.
Go home, my friend!

Aladdin.
If only one be left, I will go home
Betimes to-morrow morning; but, old man,
The way is dark, dark. Have you e'er a lantern,
Which you can lend me? My own lamp's gone out.

Old Man.
Allah will guide you.

Aladdin.
Will he? That is well.
With Him to guide, no man can miss his home.
I thank you for this gracious comfort, sir.
(Kisses his hand.)
Say, have you children?

Old Man.
Yes, a son.

Aladdin.
A son!
Alas! old man, I would it were a daughter!
Sons are a heavy trouble, will not stay
Beside the quiet earth, but will be bent
To plunge unthinkingly in life's wild stream,
Mid brawl and storm; and many are suck'd down.
(Stares into the sky.)
We shan't have moonshine, I suppose, to-night?

Old Man.
Yes, lovely moonshine, sir. The moon is full.

Aladdin
(joyfully).
Ah! it is kind of her, to leave me not
In darkness my last night, as here I sit
Amid the ruins of Persepolis.
It has been a great city.

Old Man.
Very great.

Aladdin.
'Tis now laid low. Ah! everything on earth
Is doom'd to be laid low! It cheers me, though,
When on the ruins plays the wan moon's smile.
God bless you, friend! for now I must away.

[Exit.
Old Man.
There is a goodly fabric overthrown.

[Exit.
A retired spot outside the city, covered with palm-trees; near them a brook. Night. Bright moonlight.
Aladdin
(enters, wrapt in meditation).
What is an oath? A complicated knot,
Neither by craft nor skill to be unloosed,
Nor cleft asunder by the sharpest sword;
A rope, by which the demon's coal-black claws
Can drag me down into the jaws of hell.
(Seats himself on the stump of a tree.)
By dawn the meagre remnant of my life
Will be run out and spent—that sorry dole,
Which like a beggar I was fain to take,
Which half in anger, half in pity, late
Was proudly flung to me!—Thou pale-faced moon!
That dost divide the hours upon the earth,
Why, why wert thou so niggardly to me,
Thou yellow, livid Harpax? Tell me, why?
Is't that mine ears have lost the power to hear
The nightingales their midnight descant pour?
Or that these eyes of mine are dull, opaque,
As the dim horn that rounds thy thievish lanthorn?
Can I no more distinguish hue from hue?
Is mine arm flaccid, like an o'erworn bow?
The bellows shattered here within my breast,
Worn out and feeble with its endless toil?
(Takes out a dagger.)
Hence, steel! What wouldst thou with the healthy flesh?
Thou shalt not set the precious purple stream
A broach in wasteful current. Many a day,
Ay, many a year, may it flow peacefully.
Thou dark, unyielding mass! Strong ore, that dost
Like an avenger from the mountain come,
Thyself most gross substantial, to chastise
The unsubstantial soul, the ethereal will,
Because 'tis wicked, wicked I am not!
What sin have I committed—what offence?
Takes Nature count of guilt or innocence?
The accursèd Time brings children to the world,
But to devour them with her monstrous maw.
(Goes up to the brook and gazes upon it.)
I've heard it said by one who was a sage,
That water is the void and formless chaos,
From which all form and substance emanate;
The mighty deep but one vast crucible,
Wherein the crude amorphous masses whirl,
Shapeless, yet of all shapes susceptible.
I'm vilely made!—a piece of botcher's work!
A pewterer, too, once told me on a time,
That if a casting at the first essay
Shall prove amiss, into the melting-pot
'Tis flung again, and so is cast anew.
Longheaded and sagacious folks are they,
These pewterers and sages; I'm a fool,
And fools should tread the footsteps of the wise.

(Is about to throw himself into the water, when he hears a plaintive voice, singing softly,)

The little golden snake
Doth at the water quake.
She is no water snake!

Aladdin
(amazed).
What do I hear? A voice, and from my ring!
The ring Noureddin gave me at the cave,
And which has pressed my finger until now!
Ah, Heaven, a ray of hope begins to dawn!

(Strikes the ring against a tree.)
The Spirit of the Ring
(appears instantaneously, and exclaims,)
What wouldst thou with me? Say!
Thy will 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.
How! Is Aladdin not forsaken still?

Spirit.
Behold me here thy wishes to fulfil!

Aladdin.
Back, then, my bride; back, back, my palace bring!

Spirit.
Too much! Such power abides not in the ring.
In knowledge and in motion I am strong,
But not to me doth power to act belong.

Aladdin.
In knowledge and in motion, saidst thou? Ha,
Where is my palace, then?

Spirit.
In Africa.

Aladdin.
In Africa? Now, now the mystery falls!
And where is my beloved?

Spirit.
Within its walls.

Aladdin.
Pining and pale beneath the enchanter's sway?

Spirit.
But true to honour and her lord alway.

Aladdin.
Quick! mighty spirit, bear me to her side!

Spirit.
Swifter than light we through the air shall glide.

[Vanishes with Aladdin.