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[Illustration:  =Prelude at the Theatre=]

MANAGER DRAMATIC POET MERRY-ANDREW

MANAGER

You two, who oft a helping hand
Have lent, in need and tribulation. 
Come, let me know your expectation
Of this, our enterprise, in German land! 
I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated,
Especially since it lives and lets me live;
The posts are set, the booth of boards completed. 
And each awaits the banquet I shall give. 
Already there, with curious eyebrows raised,
They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. 
I know how one the People’s taste may flatter,
Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel: 
What they’re accustomed to, is no great matter,
But then, alas! they’ve read an awful deal. 
How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,—­
Important matter, yet attractive too? 
For ’tis my pleasure-to behold them surging,
When to our booth the current sets apace,
And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging,
Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace: 
By daylight even, they push and cram in
To reach the seller’s box, a fighting host,
And as for bread, around a baker’s door, in famine,
To get a ticket break their necks almost. 
This miracle alone can work the Poet
On men so various:  now, my friend, pray show it.

POET

Speak not to me of yonder motley masses,
Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song! 
Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes,
And in its whirlpool forces us along! 
No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses
The purer joys that round the Poet throng,—­
Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion
The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion! 
Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling
The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,—­
Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,—­
Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast;
Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing,
Its perfect stature stands at last confessed! 
What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit: 
What’s genuine, shall Posterity inherit.

MERRY-ANDREW

Posterity!  Don’t name the word to me! 
If I should choose to preach Posterity,
Where would you get contemporary fun? 
That men will have it, there’s no blinking: 
A fine young fellow’s presence, to my thinking,
Is something worth, to every one. 
Who genially his nature can outpour,
Takes from the People’s moods no irritation;
The wider circle he acquires, the more
Securely works his inspiration. 
Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin! 
Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,—­
Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,—­
But have a care, lest Folly be omitted!