FAKRASH. Have I not loaded thee with kindnesses? HORACE. Kindnesses! Till I met you I was happy and hopeful--now, I'm miserable and desperate! FAKRASH. Is not life itself a sufficient boon? HORACE. What? When you've parted me for ever from the girl I love! Life is no boon to me _now_. If _you_ don't put an end to me I shall do it myself--by jumping over that balcony and breaking my neck!... I've a good mind to do it now. [_He makes a sudden movement towards the balcony as though to carry out his threat._ FAKRASH. [_Detaining him._] Hold! I entreat thee! Do not abandon me thus, and all that I have done I will undo! [_As he speaks he throws away the scimitar, which, to HORACE'S amazement, vanishes._ HORACE. [_Going to the right with his back to the audience._] That's more like _business_! But--_can_ you undo the mischief you've done? FAKRASH. With the greatest ease that can be! [_He stalks towards the window, extends his right arm, and mutters some cryptic sentence, then turns complacently to HORACE._] I have obliterated from the minds of thy betrothed and her parents all memory of myself and the brass bottle, and of every incident connected therewith. HORACE. By Jove! That's rather a neat way out--[_with sudden doubt_]--if you've really _done_ all that! FAKRASH. May I be thy ransom if it be not accomplished! HORACE. Well,--I must take your word for it. But there's Mr. and Mrs. Wackerbath,--can you make _them_ forget everything connected with you--except that I'm to build them a house? FAKRASH. [_Going to the window and repeating the incantation, then returning to the centre of the room._] All else hath utterly passed from their recollection. HORACE. Splendid! Do the thing well while you're about it--better throw in their coachman--oh, and the couple you saw here just now,--the Rapkins. FAKRASH. [_Repeats the incantation, facing the door._] It is done. They remember naught of that they have seen. And now ask no more of me, but perform thy part and bring hither my bottle. HORACE. [_Going to door down on the right._] Right! I'll go and get it out of my bedroom. [_He goes out._ FAKRASH. [_Pacing up and down in suspense and terror._] Haste! Haste! For until I am in my bottle once more every instant is an eternity! HORACE. [_Returning with the bottle, which he sets down on the floor in front of the mantelpiece._] Here's your bottle! Got the stopper? FAKRASH. [_After some fumbling in his robes, finds the metal cap and gives it to HORACE._] It is here. Now swear to me by the beard of Progress that thou wilt drop me into deep waters, even as thou hast promised! HORACE. I swear it--by the beard of Progress--on whom be peace!... You step in, sir, and leave the rest to me. FAKRASH.