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
Science
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)
_Birb._ Cleverly garrotted.
_Medora._ [_Struggling_:] Help! Murder!
_Birb._ Silence her--choke--muzzle--gag her.
Or, stay--let me assist you with a dagger.
_Yussuf._ No. No.
_Medora._ Help! Conrad!
_Yussuf._ Silence--come along!
[_Drags her out, R._
_Medora._ Help!
_Birb._ [_Calling after him._] Get a pitch-plaster and pitch it strong.
_Enter CORSAIRS, L._
_1st Cors._ What noise was that? A cry for help we heard--
_Birb._ [_Aside._] So just in time--[_aloud_]--a cry--pooh! pooh!
absurd!
_2d Cors._ I’m sure I heard a voice for aid imploring--
_Birb._ Pshaw! you’re mistaken--’twas our captain snoring.
_1st Cors._ [_Seeing CONRAD._] Conrad asleep!
_Birb._ Yes, that’s a pretty way
For a great pirate chief to pass the day!
Hear me, my friends--our captain is a do.
_1st Cors._ How?
_Birb._ Not the leader for brave men like you.
_1st Cors._ Nay, have a care how Conrad you abuse--
_Birb._ A spooney humbug--always in the blues--
Pining and sighing--
_2d Cors._ Well, that’s true enough--
He is too sentimental.
_Birb._ He’s a muff!
Not fit to be our leader.
_1st Cors._ P’raps you’re right.
_Birb._ Didn’t he leave us all on shore, last night,
To get home as we could?
_2d Cors._ That was a fault.
_Birb._ Let’s give him pepper--he’s not worth his salt.
_Corsairs._ We will--we will.
_Birb._ Said like brave men and true!
You mean, though, what you say?
_Corsairs._ We do--we do.
_Birb._ One blow and we are free--we then can take
Another leader--come--
[_Music._--_They approach CONRAD, with daggers raised.
The Scene opens and SERENA appears behind._
_Serena._ Wake, Conrad, wake.
_Conrad._ [_Starts up._] Methought I heard a voice cry, sleep no
more-- [_Sees CORSAIRS._
Halloa! [_They slink away._] Here, stop! don’t go. Ho!
guard the door.
This looks like a rebellion, eh, my men?
[_CORSAIRS kneel._
_1st Cors._ [L.] Pardon us, mighty Conrad.
_Birb._ [_Aside, R._] Sold again!
_2d Cors._ It was Birbanto, here, that drove us to it.
_Birb._ Pardon, great chief, I didn’t go to do it.
_Conrad._ Kneel, traitor!
_Birb._ [_Kneeling._] Can you, then, forgive?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account