The corsair; or, the little fairy at the bottom of the sea A new Christmas burlesque and pantomime, founded upon the ballet of "Le corsair"

_Birb._ [_Aside._] Defeated, foiled--no matter--hah! hah! hah! [_Exit BIRBANTO, L._ _Serena._ [_Advances R._] Bravely done, Conrad, this great generosity. _Conrad._ Beg pardon! you’ll excuse my curiosity-- But whom have I the honor to address? _Serena._ [R.] I am a fairy. _Conrad._ You then saved me? _Serena._ [C.] Yes. _Conrad._ Speak! where’s my love--my Venus--my Medora? _Serena._ Your Venus! nay, prepare to meet a _floorer_! She’s gone! _Conrad._ Gone? _Serena._ Nay, don’t start; yet p’raps you’d better, And start at once, if back you hope to get her. _Conrad._ Tell me, where shall I seek my priceless treasure? _Serena._ Promise me one thing first. _Conrad._ I do with pleasure. What is it? _Serena._ That when you’ve regained this maid, You will retire from the Corsair trade; Marry, and live respectably. _Conrad._ Agreed! I’ve long been weary of the life I lead-- So I’ll reform. _Serena._ This is indeed felicity! _Conrad._ Turn steady, and go in for domesticity: Stand for churchwarden, and the vestry sit on; Aye, and pay rates and taxes like a Briton. _Duet._--_Air, “Home, sweet Home.”_ _Serena._ All pleasures are fallacies for those who roam; Howe’er folks may grumble, there’s no place like home. _Conrad._ Tho’ duns may come daily--tho’ poor’s rates may call-- Give me them and the butcher’s bill dearer than all. _Serena._ Home, home, sweet home, } There’s no place like home; } Whoever deny it, there’s no place } like home. } } [_Together._] _Conrad._ Home, home, sweet home, } A slow place is home; } However, I’ll try it, and go in } for home. } _Both._ Farewell! Farewell! [_SERENA sinks, R. C._ _Song._--CONRAD.--_Air, “My Mary Ann.”_ Fare you well, my own Mary Ann, Or whatever your name may be; These fairies seldom give their names, And so I christen she, “Mary Ann.” Let me once more see my own turtle-dove, I’ll keep my word with you; Excuse me if I’ve named you wrong, And still assist me, do, Mary Ann. Fare you well, my own Mary Ann, &c. [_Exit, R._ SCENE V.--_The Harem, with the Gardens of the Pasha’s Palace._ _ODALISQUES dancing. Enter GULNARE, L., and ZULIEMA, R.; the ODALISQUES dance round GULNARE._ _Zuli._ How’s this? Am I no longer mistress here? _Gul._ Well, don’t be angry with them, there’s a dear; You can’t put old heads on young shoulders. _Zuli._ No. But you can take the young heads off them, though. They’d best not slight me! _Gul._ Madam, pray control Your passion; do now, there’s a good old soul. _Zuli._ Old soul! No matter--we shall see. _Gul._ No doubt With spectacles you might--you won’t without! _Zuli._ Proud beauty; though your eye now brightly twinkles---- _Gul._ There--there; don’t frown, it only shows the wrinkles. _Zuli._ Dare you thus openly, then, to deride One whom the Pasha’s chosen for his bride? _Gul._ Nay, I’ve no wish a quarrel to be picking; But you must own, my friend, you’re not a chicken. _Zuli._ I blush for you. _Gul._ You can’t--your paint beneath---- _Zuli._ ’Tis false! _Gul._ Just so. _Zuli._ You say this to my teeth? _Gul._ To teeth--to hair--to all the charge extending; That wig--the head and _front_ of your offending. _Zuli._ I’ll have you bow-stringed! _Gul._ Yes, a likely thing. First catch your _beau_ before you talk of string. D’ye think the Pasha cares for you? Not he. _Zuli._ Indeed! But here he comes--now we shall see. _Enter PASHA, L. U. E._--_ZULIEMA runs to him and seizes him by the arm._ _Trio._--_Irish Air._ _Zuli._ Mighty Pasha, grant your slave Vengeance on this beauty bold. _Gul._ Mighty Pasha, I would crave Safety from this vixen old. _Pasha._ Will you hold this dreadful row, now? _Zuli._ Will you put this upstart down, now? _Gul._ Her conceit has grown so big, sir-- _Zuli._ She declares I wear a wig, sir-- _Pasha._ How, now, now--will you hold your row? I’m by no means in good humor--not just now. _Pasha._ Leave me. _Zuli._ Alas! your love for me, then, cools. [_Embracing him._ _Pasha._ Oh, be off--old fools are the worst of fools! Come here, Gulnare--the cause of this explain: _Zuli._ [_R., Mincingly._] It was my face. _Gul._ [L.] You see the cause is plain-- She boasted that she was your wife to be, When you remember, sire, you promised me. _Pasha._ [_Aside._] I know, to both of them I’ve pledged my word-- It’s very awkward, for I love a third. _Zuli._ Great Pasha, say, shall I not be your bride? _Gul._ I’ll leave it to your taste, sire, to decide. _Song._--PASHA.--“_Beggar’s Opera._” How happy could I be with neither; Now t’other dear charmer’s away, I don’t care a button for either; And so what the deuce can I say, Except tol de rol, oh, my Medora-- Tol de rol, rol de rol lay-- You’ve deserted your ardent adorer, And left him to misery a prey. [_A loud single knock._ _Enter SYNG SMAUL, L. 1 E._ _Pasha._ How now, slave? _Syng._ Sire, a man is at the door, He’s got a slave to sell. _Pasha._ I’ll buy no more. [_Exit SYNG SMAUL._ I’m plagued to death as ’tis, with those I’ve got. _Re-enter SYNG SMAUL, L. 1 E._ What now? _Syng._ He says you have bought this one. _Pasha._ What? _Syng._ And though to you such message may sound funny; He said he would’nt leave without the money. _Pasha._ Insolent caitiff! show him in--and stay-- Request our headsman, too, to step this way. [_Exit SYNG SMAUL._ _Gul._ [_Aside._] Who is this madman, rushing on to slaughter? _Enter YUSSUF with MEDORA, veiled, L. 1 E._ _Yussuf._ How are you, Pasha? Here’s the gal; I caught her. _Pasha._ What girl, dog? _Yussuf._ [_Raising her veil._] See! _Pasha._ Medora! _Medora._ Sire, have pity! _Zuli._ [_Looking at MEDORA._] Young, but uncultivated! _Gul._ [_Looking at MEDORA._] Plump, but pretty! _Medora._ Save me, sir, from this man? _Pasha._ Nay, sweet--you see---- _Medora._ You won’t? Enough! Thus, then, myself I free. [_Draws dagger; is about to stab herself._ _Yussuf._ Hold on, until I’m paid--at least. Ho! seize her. _Medora._ Villain, for you, then. [_Runs at him with dagger._ _Yussuf._ Back her! stop her! ease her! [_Runs out, L._ _Pasha._ Halloa! It seems your dagger you are quick at! _Medora._ Yes, for great wrongs I never trifles stick at. _Pasha._ But he’s your uncle. _Medora._ [L.] Kindred’s no protection. I raised this knife to cut my own connexion. _Pasha._ Nay, sweet Medora. [_Kneels._ _Zuli._ Sir, what are you at? Kneeling before a little minx like that. _Pasha._ Silence! _Gul._ To me can you forget your vow? _Pasha._ Somebody stop these women’s tongues. _Enter SYNG SMAUL, L._ How now? _Syng._ A wandering dervise, by fatigue oppressed, Begs you’ll allow him to come in and rest. _Pasha._ Admit him. SYNG SMAUL goes off, and returns with CONRAD, L., disguised as a dervise; he bows to PASHA. Sir, come in, your boon we grant. _An ATTENDANT brings wine._ Drink, sir; this maid will dance meanwhile. _Medora._ I shan’t. _Pasha._ No sulks, young woman; we’ve an ugly knack Of giving ladies who rebel--the sack. _Syng._ Into the river, tied in bags, they’re shied. _Medora._ Tied in a bag? I care not what _betide_. _Conrad._ [_Aside to her._] Fear naught. _Medora._ That voice! _Conrad._ Take heed--don’t shout like that out. _Medora._ [_Aside._] Talking of bags, I’d nearly let the cat out. _Pasha._ Once for all--will you dance at my command? _Conrad._ Stay, you’ve no music; let me call my band. [_Blows horn._] My followers, ho! _Pasha._ What mean these rude alarms? _Medora._ The trumpet calls, and thus we fly to arms. [_They embrace._ _Pasha._ Tear them asunder! [_Music._--_SYNG SMAUL seizes MEDORA_--_struggle, in which_ CONRAD’S _cloak falls off._ Ho! the Corsair! murder! [_LADIES scream_--_all rush off, carrying MEDORA, struggling, R._ _Conrad._ [_Blows horn._] My followers, ho! _Enter BIRBANTO, L._ _Birb._ They’ll follow you no furder! _Conrad._ You have not dared to tamper with them, slave? _Birb._ Well, if you ask the question then--I _have_. _Conrad._ Traitor! [_Draws sword._ _Birb._ I scorn your threats and you alike! _Conrad._ This to decide between us then. _Birb._ [_With the approved Victoria pronunciation._] Ster-ike! [_Music._--_They strike attitudes for a broad sword combat_--_CONRAD stops suddenly._