The Wonder-Working Magician Part 10

This infuriate tempest stopped me.

And although my powerful genius Could chain up east, south, and north wind, I cared not, as if despairing Of success, with other objects, Other aims in view, to turn them To the west wind's summer softness.-- [Aside.

(I have said I could, but did not, For I note the dangerous workings Of his mind, and thus to magic Bind him by these hints the stronger.) Let not my wild fury fright thee, Nor be at my power astonished, For I could my own death give me, If I were by rage so prompted, And so great that power, the sunlight, By my science could be blotted.

I, in magic am so mighty, That I can describe the orbits Of the stars, for I have travelled Through the farthest and beyond them.

And in order that this boasting May not seem to you mere bombast, Look, if at this very instant You desire it, this untrodden Nimrod of rude rocks more savage Than of Babylon is recorded, Shall without a leaf being shaken, Show the most horrific portents.

I am, then, the orphan guest here Of these ash-trees, of these poplars, And though what I am, a.s.sistance At thy feet here I ask from thee: And I wish the good I purchase To repay thee with the product Of unnumbered years of study, Though it now slight effort costs me, Giving to your wildest wishes [Aside.

(Here I touch his love,) the fondest Longings of your heart, whatever Pa.s.sion can desire or covet.

If through courtesy or caution You should not accept my offer, Let my good intentions pay you, If from greater acts you stop me.

For the pity that you show me, Which I thankfully acknowledge, I will be a friend so faithful, That henceforth the changeful monster Of events and acts, called Fortune, Which 'twixt flattering words and scornful, Generous now, and now a miser, Shows a friendly face or hostile, Neither it nor that laborious Ever flying, running worker, Time, the loadstone of the ages, Nor even heaven itself, heaven proper, To whose stars the dark world oweth All its most divine adornment, Will have power to separate me From your side a single moment, Since you here have given me welcome.

And even this is almost nothing When compared with what my wishes Hope hereafter to accomplish.

[footnote] *Asonante in 1-3, to the end of the speech.

CYPRIAN. Well to the sea, my thanks are due, that bore You struggling to the sh.o.r.e, And led you to this grove, Where you will quickly prove The friendly feelings that inflame my breast, If happily I merit such a guest.

Then let us homeward wend, For I esteem you now as an old friend.

My guest you are, and so you must not leave me While my house suits you.

DEMON. Do you then receive me Wholly as yours?

CYPRIAN [embracing him]. This act doth prove it true, That seals an eternal bond betwixt us two.-- [Aside.

Oh! if I could win o'er This man to instruct me in his magic lore!

Since by that art my love might gain Some solace for its pain; Or yielding to its mighty laws My love at length might win my love's sweet cause-- The cause of all my torment, madness, rage.

DEMON [aside]. The working of his mind and love I gauge.

SCENE VIII.

CLARIN and MOSCON enter running from opposite sides.

CYPRIAN and The Demon.

CLARIN. Oh! are you sir, alive?

MOSCON. My friend, do you Speak civilly for once as something new?

That he's alive requires no demonstration.

CLARIN. I struck this lofty note of admiration, Thou n.o.ble lackey, to express my wonder, How from this storm of lightning, rain, and thunder, Without a miracle he could survive.

MOSCON. Will you stop wondering, now you see him alive?

CYPRIAN. These are my servants, sir.-- What brings you here?

MOSCON. Your spleen once more to stir.

DEMON. They have a pleasant humour.

CYPRIAN. Foolish pair, Their weary wit is oft too hard to bear.

MOSCON. This man, sir, waiting here, Who is he?

CYPRIAN. He's my guest, so do not fear.

CLARIN. Wherefore have guests at such a time as this?

CYPRIAN [to The Demon]. Your worth is lost on ignorance such as his.

MOSCON. My master's right. Are you, forsooth, his heir?

CLARIN. No; but our new friend there, Looks like a guest, unless I deceive me, who Will honour our poor house a year or two.

MOSCON. Why?

CLARIN. When a guest soon means to go away, Well, he'll not make much smoke in the house, we say.

But this....

MOSCON. Speak out.

CLARIN. Will make, I do not joke..

MOSCON. What?

CLARIN. In the house a deuced deal of smoke.

CYPRIAN. In order to repair The danger done by the rude sea and air, Come thou with me.

DEMON. [Aside.] I'm thine, while thou hast breath.

CYPRIAN. I go to prepare thy rest.

DEMON [aside]. And I thy death:-- An entrance having gained Within his breast, and thus my end obtained; My rage insatiate now without control Seeks by another way to win Justina's soul.

[Exit.

CLARIN. Guess, if you can, what I am thinking about.

MOSCON. What is it?

CLARIN. That a new volcano has burst out In the late storm, there's such a sulphur smell.

MOSCON. It came from the guest, as my good nose could tell.

CLARIN. He uses bad pastilles, then; but I can Infer the cause.

MOSCON. What is it?