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)
_Birb._ [_With the approved Victoria pronunciation._] Ster-ike!
[_Music._--_They strike attitudes for a broad sword
combat_--_CONRAD stops suddenly._
_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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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