Part 2

_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?

_Conrad._ Ne’er doubt it. [_Throws money amongst them._

Go drink my health, and say no more about it.

_All._ Long live great Conrad. Hip! hip! hip! hurrah! [_Exeunt CORSAIRS, L._

_Birb._ [_Aside._] Defeated, foiled--no matter--hah! hah! hah! [_Exit BIRBANTO, L._

_Serena._ [_Advances R._] Bravely done, Conrad, this great generosity.

_Conrad._ Beg pardon! you’ll excuse my curiosity-- But whom have I the honor to address?

_Serena._ [R.] I am a fairy.

_Conrad._ You then saved me?

_Serena._ [C.] Yes.

_Conrad._ Speak! where’s my love--my Venus--my Medora?

_Serena._ Your Venus! nay, prepare to meet a _floorer_! She’s gone!

_Conrad._ Gone?

_Serena._ Nay, don’t start; yet p’raps you’d better, And start at once, if back you hope to get her.

_Conrad._ Tell me, where shall I seek my priceless treasure?

_Serena._ Promise me one thing first.

_Conrad._ I do with pleasure. What is it?

_Serena._ That when you’ve regained this maid, You will retire from the Corsair trade; Marry, and live respectably.

_Conrad._ Agreed! I’ve long been weary of the life I lead-- So I’ll reform.

_Serena._ This is indeed felicity!

_Conrad._ Turn steady, and go in for domesticity: Stand for churchwarden, and the vestry sit on; Aye, and pay rates and taxes like a Briton.

_Duet._--_Air, “Home, sweet Home.”_

_Serena._ All pleasures are fallacies for those who roam; Howe’er folks may grumble, there’s no place like home.

_Conrad._ Tho’ duns may come daily--tho’ poor’s rates may call-- Give me them and the butcher’s bill dearer than all.

_Serena._ Home, home, sweet home, } There’s no place like home; } Whoever deny it, there’s no place } like home. } } [_Together._] _Conrad._ Home, home, sweet home, } A slow place is home; } However, I’ll try it, and go in } for home. }

_Both._ Farewell! Farewell! [_SERENA sinks, R. C._

_Song._--CONRAD.--_Air, “My Mary Ann.”_

Fare you well, my own Mary Ann, Or whatever your name may be; These fairies seldom give their names, And so I christen she, “Mary Ann.”

Let me once more see my own turtle-dove, I’ll keep my word with you; Excuse me if I’ve named you wrong, And still assist me, do, Mary Ann. Fare you well, my own Mary Ann, &c. [_Exit, R._

SCENE V.--_The Harem, with the Gardens of the Pasha’s Palace._

_ODALISQUES dancing. Enter GULNARE, L., and ZULIEMA, R.; the ODALISQUES dance round GULNARE._

_Zuli._ How’s this? Am I no longer mistress here?

_Gul._ Well, don’t be angry with them, there’s a dear; You can’t put old heads on young shoulders.

_Zuli._ No. But you can take the young heads off them, though. They’d best not slight me!

_Gul._ Madam, pray control Your passion; do now, there’s a good old soul.

_Zuli._ Old soul! No matter--we shall see.

_Gul._ No doubt With spectacles you might--you won’t without!

_Zuli._ Proud beauty; though your eye now brightly twinkles----

_Gul._ There--there; don’t frown, it only shows the wrinkles.

_Zuli._ Dare you thus openly, then, to deride One whom the Pasha’s chosen for his bride?

_Gul._ Nay, I’ve no wish a quarrel to be picking; But you must own, my friend, you’re not a chicken.

_Zuli._ I blush for you.

_Gul._ You can’t--your paint beneath----

_Zuli._ ’Tis false!

_Gul._ Just so.

_Zuli._ You say this to my teeth?

_Gul._ To teeth--to hair--to all the charge extending; That wig--the head and _front_ of your offending.

_Zuli._ I’ll have you bow-stringed!

_Gul._ Yes, a likely thing. First catch your _beau_ before you talk of string. D’ye think the Pasha cares for you? Not he.

_Zuli._ Indeed! But here he comes--now we shall see.

_Enter PASHA, L. U. E._--_ZULIEMA runs to him and seizes him by the arm._

_Trio._--_Irish Air._

_Zuli._ Mighty Pasha, grant your slave Vengeance on this beauty bold.

_Gul._ Mighty Pasha, I would crave Safety from this vixen old.

_Pasha._ Will you hold this dreadful row, now?

_Zuli._ Will you put this upstart down, now?

_Gul._ Her conceit has grown so big, sir--

_Zuli._ She declares I wear a wig, sir--

_Pasha._ How, now, now--will you hold your row? I’m by no means in good humor--not just now.

_Pasha._ Leave me.

_Zuli._ Alas! your love for me, then, cools. [_Embracing him._

_Pasha._ Oh, be off--old fools are the worst of fools! Come here, Gulnare--the cause of this explain:

_Zuli._ [_R., Mincingly._] It was my face.

_Gul._ [L.] You see the cause is plain-- She boasted that she was your wife to be, When you remember, sire, you promised me.

_Pasha._ [_Aside._] I know, to both of them I’ve pledged my word-- It’s very awkward, for I love a third.

_Zuli._ Great Pasha, say, shall I not be your bride?

_Gul._ I’ll leave it to your taste, sire, to decide.

_Song._--PASHA.--“_Beggar’s Opera._”

How happy could I be with neither; Now t’other dear charmer’s away, I don’t care a button for either; And so what the deuce can I say, Except tol de rol, oh, my Medora-- Tol de rol, rol de rol lay-- You’ve deserted your ardent adorer, And left him to misery a prey. [_A loud single knock._

_Enter SYNG SMAUL, L. 1 E._

_Pasha._ How now, slave?

_Syng._ Sire, a man is at the door, He’s got a slave to sell.

_Pasha._ I’ll buy no more. [_Exit SYNG SMAUL._

I’m plagued to death as ’tis, with those I’ve got.

_Re-enter SYNG SMAUL, L. 1 E._

What now?

_Syng._ He says you have bought this one.

_Pasha._ What?

_Syng._ And though to you such message may sound funny; He said he would’nt leave without the money.

_Pasha._ Insolent caitiff! show him in--and stay-- Request our headsman, too, to step this way. [_Exit SYNG SMAUL._

_Gul._ [_Aside._] Who is this madman, rushing on to slaughter?

_Enter YUSSUF with MEDORA, veiled, L. 1 E._

_Yussuf._ How are you, Pasha? Here’s the gal; I caught her.

_Pasha._ What girl, dog?

_Yussuf._ [_Raising her veil._] See!

_Pasha._ Medora!

_Medora._ Sire, have pity!

_Zuli._ [_Looking at MEDORA._] Young, but uncultivated!

_Gul._ [_Looking at MEDORA._] Plump, but pretty!

_Medora._ Save me, sir, from this man?

_Pasha._ Nay, sweet--you see----

_Medora._ You won’t? Enough! Thus, then, myself I free. [_Draws dagger; is about to stab herself._

_Yussuf._ Hold on, until I’m paid--at least. Ho! seize her.

_Medora._ Villain, for you, then. [_Runs at him with dagger._

_Yussuf._ Back her! stop her! ease her! [_Runs out, L._

_Pasha._ Halloa! It seems your dagger you are quick at!

_Medora._ Yes, for great wrongs I never trifles stick at.

_Pasha._ But he’s your uncle.

_Medora._ [L.] Kindred’s no protection. I raised this knife to cut my own connexion.

_Pasha._ Nay, sweet Medora. [_Kneels._

_Zuli._ Sir, what are you at? Kneeling before a little minx like that.

_Pasha._ Silence!

_Gul._ To me can you forget your vow?

_Pasha._ Somebody stop these women’s tongues.

_Enter SYNG SMAUL, L._

How now?

_Syng._ A wandering dervise, by fatigue oppressed, Begs you’ll allow him to come in and rest.

_Pasha._ Admit him.

SYNG SMAUL goes off, and returns with CONRAD, L., disguised as a dervise; he bows to PASHA.

Sir, come in, your boon we grant.

_An ATTENDANT brings wine._

Drink, sir; this maid will dance meanwhile.

_Medora._ I shan’t.

_Pasha._ No sulks, young woman; we’ve an ugly knack Of giving ladies who rebel--the sack.

_Syng._ Into the river, tied in bags, they’re shied.

_Medora._ Tied in a bag? I care not what _betide_.

_Conrad._ [_Aside to her._] Fear naught.

_Medora._ That voice!

_Conrad._ Take heed--don’t shout like that out.

_Medora._ [_Aside._] Talking of bags, I’d nearly let the cat out.

_Pasha._ Once for all--will you dance at my command?

_Conrad._ Stay, you’ve no music; let me call my band. [_Blows horn._] My followers, ho!

_Pasha._ What mean these rude alarms?

_Medora._ The trumpet calls, and thus we fly to arms. [_They embrace._

_Pasha._ Tear them asunder!

[_Music._--_SYNG SMAUL seizes MEDORA_--_struggle, in which_ CONRAD’S _cloak falls off._

Ho! the Corsair! murder!

[_LADIES scream_--_all rush off, carrying MEDORA, struggling, R._

_Conrad._ [_Blows horn._] My followers, ho!

_Enter BIRBANTO, L._

_Birb._ They’ll follow you no furder!

_Conrad._ You have not dared to tamper with them, slave?

_Birb._ Well, if you ask the question then--I _have_.

_Conrad._ Traitor! [_Draws sword._

_Birb._ I scorn your threats and you alike!

_Conrad._ This to decide between us then.

_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.

_Medora._ Alas! they’ve locked him in, and ta’en the key.

_Gul._ But I’ve a duplicate! [_Shows key._

See, this will pick it. [_Goes to door._

_Medora._ A duplicate! that is, indeed, the ticket. [_GULNARE opens door, R. 2 E., CONRAD comes out, ironed._

_Conrad._ We meet again, my joy who now can tell?

_Medora._ [_Looking in._] What a vile dungeon!

_Conrad._ ’Tis an awful cell. Thus ironed too! these heavy fetters dangling.

_Medora._ That loved form ironed! Well, it’s saved from mangling.

_Conrad._ Sweet, ’twas your love that saved me--nothing but it. Their swords were at my throat--you bid them cut it.

_Gul._ But come, time flies--

_Conrad._ Hah! true, a just remark. Explain, too long they’ve kept me in the dark. [_Points to cell._

_Gul._ Kept in the dark--come, there you’re wrong, methinks. Surely you’d light--those chains have lots of links.

_Medora._ Conrad, the Pasha offers you your freedom.

_Conrad._ Hah! on what terms?

_Gul._ In her confusion read ’em. Her hand.

_Conrad._ And she consents? oh, no.

_Medora._ I don’t. I’d see him further first, and then I won’t.

_Conrad._ Brave girl, ’twould be, were I of you bereft, A still more awful sell than that I’ve left.

_Gul._ But I’ve a plan.

_Conrad._ Out with it.

_Gul._ ’Tis that she Pretend submission until you are free.

_Conrad._ Good!

_Medora._ But suppose he makes me sticks to it? And marry him.

_Gul._ Nay, trust to woman’s wit, I mean to marry him myself--I told you; As the sole obstacle, I now behold you. You gone, of all my hopes comes the revival, With your _departure_, I’ve no more _a rival_. But some one comes; they must not here perceive me. Get in. [_Pushing CONRAD in._

_Conrad._ [_Struggling._] Get out.

_Gul._ Go, go. [_Locks door._

_Medora._ You won’t deceive me?

_Gul._ Trust me. [_Exit, R._

_Medora._ I will.

_March._--_Enter PASHA, SYNG SMAUL, GUARDS, &c., L._

_Medora._ [_Aside._] And now consent to sham!

_Pasha._ Well madam, are you quite resolved?

_Medora._ I am.

_Pasha._ Pause ere you speak--mind, your refusal crushes The Corsair’s chance. Your answer!

_Medora._ [_Modestly._] Spare my blushes.

_Pasha._ What, you consent?

_Medora._ Oh, sir!

_Pasha._ You do! you love me?

_Medora._ Can I believe that one so high above me Can honor thus his slave?

_Pasha._ Oh, joy! ’tis true! Shout dogs!

_Syng._ Shout dogs! [_All shout._

_Pasha._ Peace, slave! who spoke to you? For my sake you give up the Corsair?

_Medora._ Clearly. It can’t be helped--I’m sorry for him, really, His fate is harsh, but even were it harsher, Who would compare a pirate with a Pasha? I like a wealthy husband--he, poor chap, Comes with a ring, but comes without a rap.

_Pasha._ Huzza! Shout, dogs! [_All shout._

_Enter GULNARE, ZULIEMA, and LADIES, R._

_Gul._ What means this dreadful clatter?

_Pasha._ [_Aside._] Gulnare, the deuce! There’ll be a scene--no matter. [_Aloud._] Release the Corsair!

_SYNG SMAUL opens door, R. 2 E.; CONRAD appears._

Quick--his chains unbind! Conrad, you’re free!

_Conrad._ You’re really very kind.

_Pasha._ There, there, be off--for thanks you needn’t tarry.

_Conrad._ But that young person I’m about to marry-- She goes with me, of course!

_Medora._ Nay, Conrad!

_Conrad._ What? You, too, desert me!

_Gul._ [_Aside to him._] Recollect my plot.

_Medora._ Hear me!

_Conrad._ Away! you’re false--you can’t deny it!

_Medora._ [_Aside to him._] I’m but pretending.

_Conrad._ [_Aside to her._] So am I--be quiet! Oh, misery! worse than prison, bonds and fetters!

_Pasha._ Enough, young man--she is to wed your betters. Ladies, behold your future queen!

_Zuli._ What, she? What’s to become of me?

_Gul._ And me?

_Conrad._ And me?

_Pasha._ Can’t say, I’m sure.

_Zuli._ This fills with grief my cup; Support me! Oh, woe--woe! [_Faints and is borne off, R._

_Conrad._ Gee wo--pull up! False maid! [_Aside to her._] All right. [_Aloud._] Can you desert me thus?

_Pasha._ Of course the girl can’t marry both of us!

_Medora._ And since my love cannot divided be, You, Conrad, must give up your _chere amie_ (share o’me.)

_Conrad._ Enough! I from the unequal contest cease; My heart is broken, but I’ll _keep the peace_; And, since yours is the victory, I’ll be calm. Thus I give up her hand, and yield the palm.

_Medora._ Say we part friends.

_Conrad._ We do, though grief oppressing. [_Weeping and joining their hands._

Take her, be happy--take a Corsair’s blessing.

_Pasha._ Thanks! you are free--you now may cut, and when You have cut, mind, you needn’t come again.

_Conrad._ Fear not.

_Gul._ [_Aside to him._] Return at midnight--you can save her, And also do me a great wedding favor.

_Conrad._ Farewell! away my lonely course I take. You needn’t trouble to send cards or cake. [_Exit, L._

_Pasha._ Quick, slaves! make preparation, though ’tis late; This evening we’ll the nuptials celebrate. Bright garlands on the walls of every room stick, And bid the priest prepare the wedding broomstick. [_Exeunt SYNG SMAUL and GUARDS, L._

_Gul._ Come, madam, to your room let me conduct you. [_Aside._] Then of my plans more fully I’ll instruct you.

_Medora._ Come, come. [_Exeunt MEDORA and GULNARE, R._

_Enter SYNG SMAUL and Guards, L._

_Pasha._ How now, slave?

_Syng._ Sire, the broomstick’s ready, The priest awaits.

_Pasha._ Down, throbbing heart--be steady! Oh, happiness! soon I my wife shall call her. She comes.

_Enter GULNARE, veiled, followed by WOMEN, R._

Holloa! it strikes me she’s grown taller.

_Gul._ Sire, can you wonder that I taller stand, Now you’ve made me the highest in the land?

_Pasha._ Accept this ring; for ever thus united---- Shall we proceed?

_Gul._ Sire, I shall be delighted. [_Wedding March. Exeunt in procession, L._

_Enter MEDORA, R._

_Medora._ Saved! Saved! Gulnare will marry, in my stead. Blessed land, where veils are worn upon the head, Screening the face, secure from all beholders-- Instead of bonnets half way down the shoulders! But for that fashion, all our plans would fail: Nought can succeed, when its without _avail_. They come! [_Exit, R._

_March repeated. Re-enter PASHA, GULNARE; LADIES dancing before them, bearing flowers, &c.; SYNG SMAUL, GUARDS, &c., L._

_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.

_Pasha._ ’Tis false!

_Gul._ This ring behold! Ladies, salute your queen.

_Pasha._ Done! swindled! sold!

[_Falls into the arms of SYNG SMAUL._--_LADIES kneel to_ GULNARE. _Tableau_--_closed in._

SCENE VII.--_A Wood._

_SERENA and SUBMARINA rise through traps, R. and L._

_Sub._ Good night, Serena, how d’ye do?

_Serena._ Why who On earth would ever dream of seeing you?

_Sub._ Why not?

_Serena._ I mean the sea’s your proper berth. So ask who’d dream of seeing you on earth?

_Sub._ I’ve come to seek you.

_Serena._ What for, may I ask?

_Sub._ To know how you’re progressing with your task. Have you cured Conrad yet?

_Serena._ Well, very nearly.

_Sub._ Your month expires to-morrow.

_Serena._ Does it, really? To-night then must decide--but see--he’s here! Let us retire.

_Music._--_Enter CONRAD, supporting MEDORA, L._

_Conrad._ Come, come, Medora dear; Rest here, I’ll call for help.

_Medora._ ’Twould be no good, To holloa, till we’re quite out of the wood.

_Conrad._ Could I but find the path, we’d soon get home; The way to Greece, should be our way to _roam_. Had I a compass, we’d know how to steer.

_Medora._ Without the needle, we’re sewed up, that’s clear; But still, I always thought you roving tars, To find your way, oft had to thank your stars.

_Conrad._ In this thick wood, my science is at fault, I cannot see them! Come, let’s on, though.

_Enter BIRBANTO, with CORSAIRS, R._

_Birb._ Halt! So, then, we’ve met; at last my turn arrives.

_Medora._ [_Kneeling._] Mercy! Take all we have, but spare our lives.

_Conrad._ Medora, rise! Speak, friends--why this hostility?

_Birb._ You are accused----

_Medora._ Of what?

_Birb._ Respectability!

_Conrad._ You’ve heard of it, then?

_Birb._ Yes, and they have picked out Another leader, _vice_ Conrad, kicked out.

_Conrad._ And may I ask, who my late post now fills?

_Birb._ His name’s Birbanto, on the Grampian Hills----

_Conrad._ Indeed! I wish you joy.--Come. [_Taking MEDORA’S arm_

_Birb._ Not so fast! Secure them.

_Conrad._ How?

_Medora._ Help! help!

_Enter SYNG SMAUL and GUARDS, L._

_Syng._ So caught at last. Yield, all of you.

_Birb._ Come, my lads, ho! strike for freedom! You won’t?

_Conrad._ [_Laughing._] Not they, they’ve not got me to lead ’em.

_1st Cors._ Resume your post, and save us, we implore.

_2d Cors._ Do, sir; we’ll never disobey you more.

_Birb._ Cowards!

_Conrad._ Resume my post--’tis a temptation.

_Medora._ Oh, no! think of your vows of reformation, For my sake!

_SERENA appears, watching him with anxiety._

_Conrad._ True! I’ll keep them, love, with pleasure, Sirs, my reform must be a final measure.

_Serena._ He’s saved!

_Syng._ No more discussion. March--yet stay-- What’s that? Another prisoner comes this way

_Enter YUSSUF chained_--_two GUARDS following, L._

_Yussuf._ [_Sings._] Why did Medora sell me? Through her these woes befel me. Why did Medora sell me, And bolt on her wedding day?

_Medora._ My uncle, and in chains!

_Yussuf._ False critter, see These fixins. You ’twas forged these bonds for me.

_Medora._ I am no forger, sir.

_Conrad._ Cease this debate-- We’ve heard too much of _forging bonds_ of late.

_Syng._ Now, guards, conduct your prisoners to their gaol.

_Serena._ [_Advances._] Hold! for this couple, sir, I put in bail.

_Conrad._ Halloa! my friend, the fairy.

_Serena._ Yes, the friend Of all who, like you, strive their ways to mend. You’ve kept your word--with freedom I requite you. And to the Peri’s home to sup, invite you.

_Medora._ Oh, joy. [_CONRAD and MEDORA embrace._

_Serena._ The rest must undergo their sentence.

_Birb._ Hold on! I see there’s nothing like repentance-- So I’ll turn steady, too.

_Serena._ You settle down?

_Birb._ I’ll start a public company in town; Turn a strict man of business--try stock-jobbery On the Exchange! My cry--exchange no robbery.

_Song and Chorus._--_AIR, “One Bumper at Parting._”

_Birb._ A company starting, though many Have tried it and found it no go; I’ll endeavor at turning a penny, We won’t say if honest, or no.

_Yussuf._ Guess I’m mortal sick of slave driving, Respectable dodges pay best; So if this here company’s thriving. I’m there like a shot, with the rest.

_Conrad._ A real model husband I mean to be; All my used-up-ishness past, I forswear, since the world I have seen to be Not quite so worthless at last, One favor I’d ask, do not spurn it, your Aid, I’m quite strange to it yet-- Do you know a good place to buy furniture. Or a snug cottage to let?

_Enter PASHA and GULNARE, R._