Scene II
Reading edition
SCENE II.—Market Place in Stamboul, and Oriental Slave Bazaar.
Cheering outside.—Enter Corsairs, L.
1st Cors.Come lads, our Captain’s given us a holiday
On shore to-day, and so let’s have a jolly day—
We’ve been of late so close to business sticking,
We want some change.
2d Cors.We want some change.Let’s try some pocket-picking—
1st Cors.You’d find small change in that—
2d Cors.You’d find small change in that—Yes, ’twould be strange,
In people’s pockets not to find
small change
.
3d Cors.But see, our noble Captain comes this way—
1st Cors.Three cheers for Conrad—Hip, hip, hip, hurray!
Enter Conrad, L.
Conrad.There, that’ll do—Hip, hip, indeed—what stuff—
As if I’m not already hipped enough.
[Crosses R.
1st Cors.Cheer up, my hearty—
Conrad.Cheer up, my hearty—Man! I’m not your hearty,
And to cheer up, I’m not at all the party.
1st Cors.Why is great Conrad ever sad?
Conrad.Why is great Conrad ever sad?Ah, why?
Who can explain this secret grief; not I—
That secret kept so dark, none e’er saw through it—
I don’t believe that even Byron knew it.
[Crosses, L.
Go, go, poor giddy things, employ your leisure,
In seeking what the thoughtless world calls pleasure.
1st Cors.Say, is there aught you’d like, that we can bring,
To soothe your grief—
Conrad. [L.]Tosootheyourgrief——I don’t like anything;
The gloomy spirit in this aching breast,
Despises most things, and can’t bear the rest;
Deems happiness an empty sound, no more;
The world a humbug—life itself a bore—
There’s nothing in it! Leave me.
[They are going.
There’s nothing in it! Leave me.
Tell me, though,
Hast seen Birbanto our lieutenant?
1st Cors.Hast seen Birbanto our lieutenant?No.
[Exeunt, R.
Enter Birbanto, L.
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Birb.Behold him, here! What would great Conrad—Eh?
Anything wanted in my little way?
[Drawing his dagger.
If so, just give your orders and it’s done—
From pitch and toss to manslaughter, all’s one.
Conrad.Thou art the best o’ the cut-throats—
Birb.Thou art the best o’ the cut-throats—I’m no bragger,
But, I must say, I’m not bad at a dagger,
I’ve one to serve you with in any way,
[
Aside.
] And serve you out with, too, I hope, some day.
Conrad.You’re very kind.
Birb.You’re very kind.But pardon the suggestion—
My dagger’s point was not the point in question.
You asked for me—
Conrad.You asked for me—I might have done. Heigho!
Birb.Pooh! try some drink—you’re several cups too low.
Conrad.Nay, I have tried—I drained a flask this minute⸺
Birb.Well, when you’d drained it?
Conrad.Well, when you’d drained it?There was nothing in it.
All things I’ve tried, but they bring no relief
To the used-up, bored,
blase
pirate chief.
Travel I’ve tried, from place to place still dodging,
You’ll find me
bored
where’er you find me lodging.
The stormy waves no change to me afford,
For if I’m shipwrecked, still I’m over
board
;
I’ve sought excitement east, west, north, and south,
In battle-strife—e’en at the cannon’s mouth,
But all in vain: amid the battle’s roar,
I found the cannon’s mouth was but a
bore
!
Enough of this.
Birb. [Aside.]Enough of this.Too much for me to stand;
A pretty fellow to command our band.
Oh, I should like to⸺
[Raises dagger; Conrad turns round; Birbanto
bows after the approved style of melodrama.
Conrad.Oh, I should like to⸺Where’s my galley?
Birb. [Pointing off R.]Oh, I should like to⸺Where’s my galley?Sir,
The
gal
ley’s there—that
buoy
’s attached to her.
Conrad.Keep her in readiness to sail to-night,
In case of accidents. D’ye hear?
[Same business with the dagger.
Birb. [Bowing.]In case of accidents. D’ye hear?All right!
[Exit Conrad, R.
It shall be so. We’ve stood him long enough—
A spoony, pining, sentimental muff;
He’s not at all my notion of a Corsair—
I like black worsted curls and beard of horsehair;
The good old heavy style of melodram,
More like the individual I am.
Yet the band love him. Well, it is but right
To own he is the very deuce to fight,
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When he begins. No matter! we shall see
Which they prefer to lead them—him or me!
To sound them on the point, at once I go forth.
[Shaking his fist towards where Conrad has gone off.
Tremble! Despair! Ha, ha! Revenge! and so forth!
Song.—Birbanto.—Air, “Dusty Bob’s Hornpipe.”
Scruples, lie down—for in guilt I’m dyed so deep already;
Harder ’twould be to go back than to proceed.
After the scores that this dagger’s sent to sleep already
Why should I pause at one other little deed?
Tremble, proud Conrad—a foe you don’t expect in me;
Tremble—despair—as, I think, I said before.
You once removed—as their leader—they electing me—
Crown all the hopes that so long I’ve pondered o’er.
Let them consent, and but once transfer the rule to me,
I’d show them how they their work should go about;
A ticket-of-leave man himself would be a fool to me;
Garotters confess that I beat ’em out and out.
Robbing, attacking all—plundering, whacking all—
I get the lion’s share, of course, of all the dibs;
If they’ll fall in with it, now I’ll begin with it,
Sticking at nothing except our leader’s ribs.
[Exit R.
Enter a number of female Slaves, followed by Yussuf, L.
Yussuf.Now then, you tarnal critters, look alive.
I have had many lots of slaves to drive,
Of all sorts and complexions—black, white, and red;
You whip them all—from Uncle Tom to Dred!
Come, look alive, I tell you. Take your places,
None of your airs—but plenty of your graces.
Be careful of your smiles, and mind your eyes;
It’s market-day, remember. Come, who buys?
March.—Enter Pasha, Syng Smaul, and Guards, R.
Pasha.Halt! curs!
Syng.Halt! curs!Halt, curs—d’ye hear?
Pasha.Halt! curs!Halt, curs—d’ye hear?Of course they hear.
Syng. [L.]
Great Pasha!
Pasha.Great Pasha!Slave, who bid you interfere?
Syng.I’m dumb.
Yussuf. [R.]I’m dumb.Great Brother of the Sun and Moon,
How do you find yourself, this afternoon?
Pasha. [C.]
We thank thee, dog, we’re pretty well.
Syng.We thank thee, dog, we’re pretty well.Rejoice!
Let all the earth raise high its joyful voice;
All care and grief from every heart abolish,
Our mighty Pasha, feels himself tol-lol-ish.
Shout all of you.
[All shout.
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Pasha. [Striking him.]
Shout all of you.
Be quiet—
Syn. [Striking another.]Shout all of you.Be quiet—Slaves, be dumb.
How dare you make this row—
Pasha.How dare you make this row—But business—come—
What hast thou got to sell, dog?
Yussuf.What hast thou got to sell, dog?Sire, I deem
These here Circassians, the Circassian cream
Of excellence, in all points—figures—faces—
Trot out, you critters, come, and show your paces.
Music.—The Slaves dance out one by one, and pass before the Pasha.
Pasha. [Looking at them one by one.]
Too dark! too fair! too red! too short! too tall!
Too lean! too fat! pooh! pooh! won’t do at all.
Hast thou no others, pig?
Yussuf.Hast thou no others, pig?No, sire; you see
My wholesale merchant disappointed me;
I’ve ordered in some beauties.
Pasha.I’ve ordered in some beauties.Reptile, peace!
Who’s this?
Yussuf.Who’s this?That, sire? Medora, my young niece.
Enter Medora, dancing, L.
There, that’ll do—just cut these capers—stop!
Must I for ever catch you on the hop?
Medora.Nay, be not angry, uncle—
Yussuf.Nay, be not angry, uncle—Then stand still!
Medora.With pleasure, if it pleases you, I will;
But I’m so happy—feel my heart so light;
The air’s so balmy, and the sun so bright.
The gladness that’s inspired by all around,
Finds vent in
jumps
, because it knows no
bound
.
Pasha.She’ll do! Come hither, dog, a word with you.
[Yussuf approaches, they whisper, L. C.
Medora. [Uneasy.]
What’s that dark stranger, whispering?
Pasha.What’s that dark stranger, whispering?Pooh! pooh!
Yussuf.But, sire, to sell one’s niece, like any nigger!
’Possums and rattlesnakes! Say what’s the figure?
Pasha. [L.C.]
Name your own price.
Yussuf. [L.]Name your own price.My niece—so good, so true—
So dear to me. Well, she’ll be dear to you,
What say you to one thousand chequeens?
Pasha.What say you to one thousand chequeens?Done.
Yussuf. [Aside.]
I wish I’d ask’d him five, instead of one.
Medora.What strange presentiment of woe comes o’er me?
Pasha.Conduct her home.
Syng.Conduct her home.Fair slave, just march before me!
Medora.Slave! knave! behave! I am no slave—I’m free!
You are deceived;
Syng.You are deceived;Nay, you are sold—not me;
9
Medora.I sold! Who’d dare to sell me?
Syng.I sold! Who’d dare to sell me?Can’t you guess—
Medora.Oh, my prophetic soul! my uncle—
Yussuf.Oh, my prophetic soul! my uncle—Yes;
I’m very sorry, but—
Medora.I’m very sorry, but—You sorry—stuff!
Yussuf.I guess I am. [Aside.] I didn’t charge enough.
Medora. [To Pasha.]
I am no slave, good sir, I’m free—then please ye,
To calm my fears, and make me free and easy.
Yussuf.There! don’t orationize the case about.
Medora.If you’re my uncle, you will let me spout.
Pasha.No words—you are my slave.
[Seizes her.
Medora.No words—you are my slave.Help! help!
Enter Conrad, R.
Conrad.No words—you are my slave.Help! help!How now?
Some work for me it seems; I like a row.
[Draws sword.
Villains!
Pasha.Villains!Holloa!
Medora.Villains!Holloa!Sir, save me if you can—
Conrad.Yes, I’ll see fair; I’m a sea-faring man;
And on the stage no sailor can do less,
Than rescue lovely women in distress:
And so here goes.
[Throws Syng Smaul across to R.—Tableau.
Pasha.And so here goes.Guards, hew him limb from limb!
Medora.No, mercy! take my life, but pardon him.
Conrad.Pooh! pooh! fair maid, let them come on—they dare not;
Come—the whole lot of you at once—I care not.
Song.—Conrad.—Air, “La tremenda ultrice Spada.”
Ten to one, now come on to the attack, sirs,
Were it ten times ten I’d not yield, sirs,
What’s the odds, I myself still back, sirs,
Ten to one on the favorite ’gainst the field.
Ten to one—who says done?—still no takers,
Ten to one—you, my friends, are quakers,
Ten to one—you’ll say done in a crack, sirs.
When my name and my address I have revealed.
Yussuf. [R.]
Go at him—all at once.
[Guards rush forward.
Conrad.Go at him—all at once.Stay! by-the-bye,
You’d like to know, p’rhaps, who I am?
Pasha.You’d like to know, p’rhaps, who I am?Not I!
Conrad.Well, mind you, I can fight—I give you warning.
Medora.Who can it be, these fearful odds thus scorning?
Pasha.My guards are ready.
Medora.My guards are ready.Stay—your name avow!
Conrad.Conrad the Corsair!
[Guards shrink away.
Conrad the Corsair!
Are they ready now?
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Yussuf.Jerusalem!
[Exit, R., followed by the Girls.
Pasha.Jerusalem!The Corsair! murder! fire!
[Runs out, followed by Guards, L.
Conrad. [L.]
Fair maid, you’re safe—permit me to retire.
Medora. [R.]
Nay, fly not yet, or else let me fly too,
I’m not safe here—they’ll soon return.
Conrad.I’m not safe here—they’ll soon return.That’s true,
And doubtless, though the case I’ve yet to learn,
You’ll get small profit by their quick return;
But still to come with me⸺
Medora.But still to come with me⸺Oh, take me hence!
I will not put you to the least expense;
I’ll work my passage out—wash, cook, bake, brew for you.
Will be your slave, and regularly do for you.
Conrad. [Aside.]
I fear you would, if long at you I looked,
And my own goose be the first thing you cooked.
[
Aloud.
] But think upon the dangers of the sea.
Medora.Those dangers have no terrors, sir, for me.
Conrad.A common boast—the would-be yachting man,
Who talked so bravely ere the trip began,
I have seen rush, at the first lurch, to leeward,
His boasting sunk in one faint cry of “steward.”
Medora.Fear not my courage; take me with you, do.
Conrad.I’ve half a mind.
Medora.I’ve half a mind.I should be safe with you;
But if left here alone, then should I be
Alone
without the least
security
.
Conrad.Enough! it shall be so—your words prevail.
The best security is
power of sail
;
So, to set sail at once must be our plan,
The crew may follow the best way they can.
Song.—Conrad.—Air, “My Skiff is by the Shore.”
My skiff is on the shore, she manned must be,
By one little boy, yourself, and me;
Can I call it manned, though, when of the three,
One is a small boy, and another a she.
One is a small boy, and another a she.
Fa, la, la, &c.
My skiff is on the shore—then come with me,
Since here with you ’twould be all U P.
[Medora dances to chorus—exeunt, L.
Serena rises from trap, R. C.
Serena.So far, so good! my plans are working nicely;
That’s just the sort of girl he wants precisely,
Modest, sportive, happy, kind, affectionate;
With heart as light as a cheap grocer’s weight.
He’s half in love as ’tis—but to make sure,
All sorts of dangers they shall first endure;
For true love’s course, in palace, cottage, booth,
11
Like omnibuses, never yet ran smooth;
And of all plans to win a man’s affection,
The surest is, to trust him for protection.
To aid my plans, first, shipwrecked he shall be;
When the ship sinks, all must go swimmingly—
To raise the wind, at once the seas I’ll cross,
And set the waves all playing pitch and toss.
Song.—Serena.—Air, “Over the Sea.”
Over the sea!—now will I flee—
Mind, it’s a secret between you and me;
Soon you will see—don’t say ’twas me—
Somebody coming it strong!
Even March! March! March!
With his winds and rough weather,
Such storm ne’er could gather:
Old March! March! March!
Shall confess himself beaten ere long.
It’s over the sea! Over the sea!
Like Mother Carey’s bird now will I flee—
Over the sea! Over the sea!
Raising the wind pretty strong.
[Exit R.