The corsair; or, the little fairy at the bottom of the sea : $b A new Christmas burlesque and pantomime, founded upon the ballet of "Le corsair"Brough, William
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The corsair; or, the little fairy at the bottom of the sea : $b A new Christmas burlesque and pantomime, founded upon the ballet of "Le corsair"
Brough, William
Burlesques; English drama -- 19th century; Pantomime (Christmas entertainment)
_Medora._ Had it not been for your bravery----
_Conrad._ There, that’s enough; these fervent thanks withhold.
_Medora._ Say, are you sure you haven’t caught a cold,
Last night when struggling with the waves so cruel?
Do let me make you just one drop of gruel. [_Rises._
_Conrad._ A pirate taking gruel! doubtless you
Would like my feet put in hot water, too?
_Medora._ I should, ’twould do you good.
_Conrad._ And I suppose
You’d further counsel tallowing my nose?
_Medora._ ’Twould be as well. Nay, come, from laughing cease;
Were you a patriot, you’d stick up for _grease_.
_Conrad._ Her care for me is really charming! Come,
Sit down, Medora--make yourself at home.
_Medora._ Nay, I’m your slave.
_Conrad._ [_Aside._] My love for her gets stronger.
_Medora._ Your waiting maid.
_Conrad._ Nay, you shall wait no longer.
[_He rises; she dances away coquettishly, he
following_--_CONRAD sings to music of dance._
_Air.--“The Fan Dance.” (Spanish.)_
Sweetest, your charms have restored me,
All once bored me--_ennui_ floored me.
Oh, my heart now you’ve fill’d with gladness,
Away have you chased its sadness!
Medora, oh! don’t say me no.
Say you’ll be mine--then pray do, love!
For ’tis you, love, are my true love;
Oh! don’t turn away your face, dear,
But do grant me one embrace, dear,
You will not refuse me, I know.
Come, sweet Medora--say that you’ll be mine!
_BIRBANTO crawls on from R._
_Birb._ Now, how to do it--hah, the wine! the wine!
[_Pours liquid from vial into CONRAD’S
glass, and exit at back. MEDORA sinks
into CONRAD’S arms; he kisses her._
_Conrad._ No more a slave--this liberty affords you;
Your lover, not your master, looks towards you.
[_Drinks_--_chord._
How’s this? a sudden drowsiness, methinks;
Would you excuse me just for forty winks? [_Sleeps._
_Medora._ Sleep--I’ll hold watch, so shall no harm befall him.
Holding the watch, I shall know when to call him.
_Soft music.--Enter YUSSUF and BIRBANTO, stealthily, R._
_Birb._ There lies the man of mystery, dark and deep,
So slow when waking--yet how fast asleep!
Now is your time--quick to your task allotted.
[_Gives him scarf._
_Yussuf._ Slick as greased light’ning.
[_Throws scarf over MEDORA’S head._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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