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"

_Conrad._ [_Looking at his sword, a light elegant one._] Stop! for stage combats this is not the thing, Just wait while I exchange it at the wing. [_Goes to wing, R., and returns with the orthodox basket hilt._ Now then to meet your fate so well deserved. Come on! _Birb._ Ster-ike, as I before observed. [_Desperate single combat_--_BIRBANTO gets the worst of it._ Help! help! _Conrad._ Take that--in vain for help you call. _Birb._ [_Falls._] That cut was the unkindest cut of all. _Conrad._ Die, villain! [_GUARDS rush in and surround him._ _Birb._ Saved! _Syng._ Ho! guards, to pieces tear him. _Conrad._ I’m dished--I ask no quarter. _Medora._ [_Runs in R., and kneels._] Spare him--spare him. _Tableau_--_scene closes._ SCENE VI.--_A Corridor._--_Practicable door, R., a barred window, L._ _Enter SYNG SMAUL, leading in MEDORA, L._ _Syng._ Fair maid, you’ll be a prisoner here confined, Till in this matter you’ve made up your mind. If you consent to be the Pasha’s wife, Conrad the Corsair saves his forfeit life-- If not, the hangman treats him to a drop! _Medora._ Marry the Pasha, never. _Syng._ [_Going._] Good. _Medora._ Yet stop-- Where is the prisoner? _Syng._ [_Pointing to door, R._] In yon cell. _Medora._ So near me. He shall decide for me! Ho, Conrad, hear me! _Syng._ He can’t. ’Tis vain, so you may save your trouble! Your voice is treble, but the doors are double. I’ll leave you to reflect. [_Exit, L._ _Medora._ Which can I choose-- The matrimonial, or the hangman’s noose? The Pasha’s wife--oh, no; yet, if I falter, ’Tis I that lead my Conrad to the halter. A footstep! who comes here? _Enter GULNARE, R._ _Gul._ Hush! not a word! The Pasha’s proposition I have heard. _Medora._ And you advise me to refuse it flat? _Gul._ No, to accept it. _Medora._ What! wed a thing like that? _Gul._ It is a match most women’s hopes would lean to. _Medora._ Indeed! then marry him yourself! _Gul._ I mean to. _Medora._ Explain! _Gul._ Nay, Conrad too, must present be. _Medora._ Alas! they’ve locked him in, and ta’en the key. _Gul._ But I’ve a duplicate! [_Shows key._ See, this will pick it. [_Goes to door._ _Medora._ A duplicate! that is, indeed, the ticket. [_GULNARE opens door, R. 2 E., CONRAD comes out, ironed._ _Conrad._ We meet again, my joy who now can tell? _Medora._ [_Looking in._] What a vile dungeon! _Conrad._ ’Tis an awful cell. Thus ironed too! these heavy fetters dangling. _Medora._ That loved form ironed! Well, it’s saved from mangling. _Conrad._ Sweet, ’twas your love that saved me--nothing but it. Their swords were at my throat--you bid them cut it. _Gul._ But come, time flies-- _Conrad._ Hah! true, a just remark. Explain, too long they’ve kept me in the dark. [_Points to cell._ _Gul._ Kept in the dark--come, there you’re wrong, methinks. Surely you’d light--those chains have lots of links. _Medora._ Conrad, the Pasha offers you your freedom. _Conrad._ Hah! on what terms? _Gul._ In her confusion read ’em. Her hand. _Conrad._ And she consents? oh, no. _Medora._ I don’t. I’d see him further first, and then I won’t. _Conrad._ Brave girl, ’twould be, were I of you bereft, A still more awful sell than that I’ve left. _Gul._ But I’ve a plan. _Conrad._ Out with it. _Gul._ ’Tis that she Pretend submission until you are free. _Conrad._ Good! _Medora._ But suppose he makes me sticks to it? And marry him. _Gul._ Nay, trust to woman’s wit, I mean to marry him myself--I told you; As the sole obstacle, I now behold you. You gone, of all my hopes comes the revival, With your _departure_, I’ve no more _a rival_. But some one comes; they must not here perceive me. Get in. [_Pushing CONRAD in._ _Conrad._ [_Struggling._] Get out. _Gul._ Go, go. [_Locks door._ _Medora._ You won’t deceive me? _Gul._ Trust me. [_Exit, R._ _Medora._ I will. _March._--_Enter PASHA, SYNG SMAUL, GUARDS, &c., L._ _Medora._ [_Aside._] And now consent to sham! _Pasha._ Well madam, are you quite resolved? _Medora._ I am. _Pasha._ Pause ere you speak--mind, your refusal crushes The Corsair’s chance. Your answer! _Medora._ [_Modestly._] Spare my blushes. _Pasha._ What, you consent? _Medora._ Oh, sir! _Pasha._ You do! you love me? _Medora._ Can I believe that one so high above me Can honor thus his slave? _Pasha._ Oh, joy! ’tis true! Shout dogs! _Syng._ Shout dogs! [_All shout._ _Pasha._ Peace, slave! who spoke to you? For my sake you give up the Corsair? _Medora._ Clearly. It can’t be helped--I’m sorry for him, really, His fate is harsh, but even were it harsher, Who would compare a pirate with a Pasha? I like a wealthy husband--he, poor chap, Comes with a ring, but comes without a rap. _Pasha._ Huzza! Shout, dogs! [_All shout._ _Enter GULNARE, ZULIEMA, and LADIES, R._ _Gul._ What means this dreadful clatter? _Pasha._ [_Aside._] Gulnare, the deuce! There’ll be a scene--no matter. [_Aloud._] Release the Corsair! _SYNG SMAUL opens door, R. 2 E.; CONRAD appears._ Quick--his chains unbind! Conrad, you’re free! _Conrad._ You’re really very kind. _Pasha._ There, there, be off--for thanks you needn’t tarry. _Conrad._ But that young person I’m about to marry-- She goes with me, of course! _Medora._ Nay, Conrad! _Conrad._ What? You, too, desert me! _Gul._ [_Aside to him._] Recollect my plot. _Medora._ Hear me! _Conrad._ Away! you’re false--you can’t deny it! _Medora._ [_Aside to him._] I’m but pretending. _Conrad._ [_Aside to her._] So am I--be quiet! Oh, misery! worse than prison, bonds and fetters! _Pasha._ Enough, young man--she is to wed your betters. Ladies, behold your future queen! _Zuli._ What, she? What’s to become of me? _Gul._ And me? _Conrad._ And me? _Pasha._ Can’t say, I’m sure. _Zuli._ This fills with grief my cup; Support me! Oh, woe--woe! [_Faints and is borne off, R._ _Conrad._ Gee wo--pull up! False maid! [_Aside to her._] All right. [_Aloud._] Can you desert me thus? _Pasha._ Of course the girl can’t marry both of us! _Medora._ And since my love cannot divided be, You, Conrad, must give up your _chere amie_ (share o’me.) _Conrad._ Enough! I from the unequal contest cease; My heart is broken, but I’ll _keep the peace_; And, since yours is the victory, I’ll be calm. Thus I give up her hand, and yield the palm. _Medora._ Say we part friends. _Conrad._ We do, though grief oppressing. [_Weeping and joining their hands._ Take her, be happy--take a Corsair’s blessing. _Pasha._ Thanks! you are free--you now may cut, and when You have cut, mind, you needn’t come again. _Conrad._ Fear not. _Gul._ [_Aside to him._] Return at midnight--you can save her, And also do me a great wedding favor. _Conrad._ Farewell! away my lonely course I take. You needn’t trouble to send cards or cake. [_Exit, L._ _Pasha._ Quick, slaves! make preparation, though ’tis late; This evening we’ll the nuptials celebrate. Bright garlands on the walls of every room stick, And bid the priest prepare the wedding broomstick. [_Exeunt SYNG SMAUL and GUARDS, L._ _Gul._ Come, madam, to your room let me conduct you. [_Aside._] Then of my plans more fully I’ll instruct you. _Medora._ Come, come. [_Exeunt MEDORA and GULNARE, R._ _Enter SYNG SMAUL and Guards, L._ _Pasha._ How now, slave? _Syng._ Sire, the broomstick’s ready, The priest awaits. _Pasha._ Down, throbbing heart--be steady! Oh, happiness! soon I my wife shall call her. She comes. _Enter GULNARE, veiled, followed by WOMEN, R._ Holloa! it strikes me she’s grown taller. _Gul._ Sire, can you wonder that I taller stand, Now you’ve made me the highest in the land? _Pasha._ Accept this ring; for ever thus united---- Shall we proceed? _Gul._ Sire, I shall be delighted. [_Wedding March. Exeunt in procession, L._ _Enter MEDORA, R._ _Medora._ Saved! Saved! Gulnare will marry, in my stead. Blessed land, where veils are worn upon the head, Screening the face, secure from all beholders-- Instead of bonnets half way down the shoulders! But for that fashion, all our plans would fail: Nought can succeed, when its without _avail_. They come! [_Exit, R._ _March repeated. Re-enter PASHA, GULNARE; LADIES dancing before them, bearing flowers, &c.; SYNG SMAUL, GUARDS, &c., L._ _Pasha._ ’Tis done, the marriage rites are ended! Go, fellows, and prepare a banquet splendid. Lights, music, wine, provide in our pavilion;