_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;
Wine for ten thousand--music for the million.
[_Exeunt SYNG SMAUL and GUARDS, L._
_Pasha._ And you, dear, go remove your veil.
_Gul._ I will!
Come, girls. [_Exeunt GULNARE and LADIES, R._
_Pasha._ Now, how the weary time to kill?
She’ll be at least an hour and a quarter.
She comes!
_Enter MEDORA, R._
Holloa! it strikes me she’s grown shorter!
_Medora._ What! wonder if my head less high is carried?
Folks always _settle down_ when they get married.
_Pasha._ Come to my arms.
[_MEDORA runs towards him and stops, frightened._
You shun them?
_Medora._ Nay, my fright
Was at your weapons--not your arms.
[_Takes pistols from his belt._
That’s right.
Say, are they loaded?
_Pasha._ Powdered, balled, and capped.
_Medora._ Good gracious! [_Lays them down at window._--_Aside._
Now, I think you’re nicely trapped.
[_She dances playfully round him, he follows
with his hands raised supplicatingly._
_Medora._ Oh, what an attitude! stay, keep them so.
[_Takes a scarf from her waist and ties them, he laughing._
Beautiful, charming! Hah! he’s there!
[_CONRAD appears at window, L._
_Pasha._ Holloa!
Guards! treason!
_Medora._ [_Catching up pistols._] Peace! another word, you die!
_Conrad._ Medora! quick! come, by this window fly!
Say, can you squeeze these narrow bars between?
_Medora._ I can.
_Conrad._ Oh, joy! she wears no crinoline.
[_MEDORA gets through window._
_Pasha._ One word, one question!
_Medora._ Well?
_Pasha._ That pistol, drop it.
_Medora._ Is that the question? peace, then, or I’ll pop it.
[_They disappear._--_The PASHA goes to the
window._--_A pistol is discharged without._
_Pasha._ Gone!--treason!--murder!--help! My guards, what ho!
_GUARDS rush in, L. 1 E., GULNARE and LADIES, R._
_Gul._ What means this cry?
_Pasha._ My bride has fled.
_Gul._ Not so;
Here stands your bride.
_Pasha._ ’Tis false!
_Gul._ This ring behold!
Ladies, salute your queen.
_Pasha._ Done! swindled! sold!
[_Falls into the arms of SYNG SMAUL._--_LADIES kneel to_
GULNARE. _Tableau_--_closed in._