_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.