[_Puts up his sunshade, and goes into the grove, where the hammocks are partly visible._] TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. The swinish cur! MONSIEUR BALLON. No taste for glory——! MR. COTTON. Oh, glory’s neither here nor there; But think of the enormous profits We’d reap if Greece should free herself. MONSIEUR BALLON. I saw myself a conqueror, By lovely Grecian maids encircled. TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. Grasped in my Swedish hands, I saw The great, heroic spur-strap-buckles! VON EBERKOPF. I my gigantic Fatherland’s Culture saw spread o’er earth and sea——! MR. COTTON. The worst’s the loss in solid cash. God dam![81] I scarce can keep from weeping! I saw me owner of Olympus. If to its fame the mountain answers, There must be veins of copper in it, That could be opened up again. And furthermore, that stream Castalia,[82] Which people talk so much about, With fall on fall, at lowest reckoning, Must mean a thousand horse-power good—— TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. Still I will go! My Swedish sword Is worth far more than Yankee gold! MR. COTTON. Perhaps; but, jammed into the ranks, Amid the press we’d all be drowned; And then where would the profit be? MONSIEUR BALLON. Accurst! So near to fortune’s summit, And now stopped short beside its grave! MR. COTTON. [_Shakes his fist towards the yacht._] That long black chest holds coffered up The nabob’s golden nigger-sweat——! VON EBERKOPF. A royal notion! Quick! Away! It’s all up with his empire now! Hurrah! MONSIEUR BALLON. What would you? VON EBERKOPF. Seize the power! The crew can easily be bought. On board then. I annex the yacht! MR. COTTON. You—what——? VON EBERKOPF. I grab the whole concern! [_Goes down to the jolly-boat._ MR. COTTON. Why then self-interest commands me To grab my share. [_Goes after him._ TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. What scoundrelism! MONSIEUR BALLON. A scurvy business—but—_enfin_![83] [_Follows the others._ TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. I’ll have to follow, I suppose,— But I protest to all the world——![84] [_Follows._ SCENE SECOND.