Camaralzaman And Badoura ; Or, The Peri Who Loved The Prince An Extravagant Arabian Night's Entertainment, In Two Acts |
 | 1. |
| 1. |
Scene I.
|
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 2. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
 | Camaralzaman And Badoura ; Or, The Peri Who Loved The Prince |  |
Scene I.
—The Sky—the stage covered with clouds—and the starry firmament in the background.—Rising from the clouds in the foreground are seen a milestone, on which is written “To Jupiter—60,000 leagues,” and a finger-post, pointing in one direction “to Orion,” in the other “to the Milky Way;” a little further back a light kind of building, from which projects a sign-board, with the words, “The Halfway House; good accommodation for Sprite and Geni.” Peris, Spirits, &c., grouped among the clouds.CHORUS OF SPIRITS.
Tune—“Carnival de Venise”
Through starlit skies, when day has set,
We spirits, gay and free
(To use coarse language), loose are let,
To roam upon the spree,
When nightingales their notes begin
To warble on the spray,
And larks the sons of men are seen
Along the streets to play.
We spirits, gay and free
(To use coarse language), loose are let,
To roam upon the spree,
When nightingales their notes begin
To warble on the spray,
And larks the sons of men are seen
Along the streets to play.
And
We won't go home till morning,
We won't go home till morning;
We won't go home till morning,
Till daylight doth appear.
We won't go home till morning,
We won't go home till morning;
We won't go home till morning,
Till daylight doth appear.
[Chorus repeated, becoming gradually fainter, while the Spirits disappear.
6
Mai.
Holloa there, house! now, stupid, look alive;
My doves are rather heated by their drive,
And want attending to—now, then, I say!
Ski.
(within.)
Coming.
Mai.
Oh! coming—so's the break of day.
[Gets out of car.
Enter Skilopht, hurriedly, R.
Oh! here you are! Is this, sir, your civility,
Detaining Peris of respectability
Out here, at your abominable door,
Bawling and shouting till their throats are sore?
There's not a house, 'twixt this and Georgium Sidus,
But with more prompt attendance would provide us.
Ski.
Madam, I'm really very sorry.
Mai.
Stuff!
I warrant you'd be sorry though, enough,
Should you find out you'd lost the patronage
Of every member of the Peri-age.
Take care; your house, despite its situation,
Has not a very first-rate reputation;
Afrites, hobgoblins, here a refuge find,
And Djinns of the most questionable kind.
Look to your licence!
[Skilopht is about to speak.
Mai.
Come, no words I need;
Put up my drag, and give the doves a feed.
[Skilopht bows, and is leading the car in.
Mind that off-leader's wing, it's got a scar
From a slight singe against a shooting star;
Then a sky parlour for us see prepared.
Ski.
I'll have our best star-chamber nicely aired.
[Exit, leading in car, R.
Fil.
The drive has done you good?
Mai.
A little, dear;
It would be odd if one felt low, up here;
But ah! I find that drive, howe'er I may,
I can't completely drive dull care away.
Fil.
What is it you in sorrow doth so steep?
Tell me, your friend.
Mai.
Can you a secret keep?
Fil.
Of course I can—you ought to be aware of it.
Mai.
Then here's one—I'm in love—now mind, take care of it.
Fil.
In love?
Mai.
Why, yes, my bosom's had a smarter
From Venus's sharp son, or rather darter.
7
Who is the happy spirit?
Mai.
Why, my dear,
My choice is slightly infra dig., I fear.
Fil.
How? sure you haven't let a vulgar Djinn
Or low-bred Afrite your affections win?
Mai.
It isn't that (aside)
; I wish I had a fan
To hide my blushes; it's, in fact, a man!
Fil.
(horror-struck.)
A man! good gracious! do I hear aright?
Mai.
You do.
Fil.
(curtseying very coldly.)
Then, Madam, I must say, good night!
Mai.
Where would you go?
Fil.
I'd rather not be seen
With any one who could herself bemean
So shockingly.
Mai.
Oh! this my bosom wrings;
Stay, take my carriage.
Fil.
Thank you, I have wings.
[Curtsies distantly, and sinks, so as to give an appearance that she is flying downwards.
Mai.
My friend has cut her stick, and my connexion,
And so I shall be cut in each direction;
I shall be shunn'd by all the fairy race;
But what's their countenance to his sweet face?
For his sake I could almost change my station,
Procure an act of naturalization,
And be a mortal—I can't live without him:
Stay, by-the-bye, I'll sing a song about him.
SONG.And so I shall be cut in each direction;
I shall be shunn'd by all the fairy race;
But what's their countenance to his sweet face?
For his sake I could almost change my station,
Procure an act of naturalization,
And be a mortal—I can't live without him:
Stay, by-the-bye, I'll sing a song about him.
Tune—“Jenny Jones.”
His name's Camaralzaman—charms most delectable
Lurk in his glances, his dimples, and smiles,
His father and mother are highly respectable,
Good truth, he's crown prince of the Khaledan Isles.
And indeed of all mortals, so lovely and beautiful,
That same young gentleman ranks far above,
For indeed in my heart I do love that Camaralzaman,
That sweetest of princes, good truth, I do love.
Lurk in his glances, his dimples, and smiles,
His father and mother are highly respectable,
Good truth, he's crown prince of the Khaledan Isles.
And indeed of all mortals, so lovely and beautiful,
That same young gentleman ranks far above,
For indeed in my heart I do love that Camaralzaman,
That sweetest of princes, good truth, I do love.
He's just had a row with his cross-grain'd old father,
Who wants him to wed some illustrious lass,
But he has to wedlock a rooted objection,
And into its bondage refuses to pass.
So he's locked in his room till his mind he shall alter,
Which me to deep sorrow and pity does move,
For indeed in my heart I do love that Camaralzaman,
That sweetest of princes, in truth, I do love.
Who wants him to wed some illustrious lass,
But he has to wedlock a rooted objection,
And into its bondage refuses to pass.
So he's locked in his room till his mind he shall alter,
Which me to deep sorrow and pity does move,
For indeed in my heart I do love that Camaralzaman,
That sweetest of princes, in truth, I do love.
8
But, judging by the pricking of my thumbs,
Something extremely wicked this way comes.
[Looking off.
What form is that? Hah! by this distant sight of it,
It seems a Djinn, come out to make a night of it.
Something extremely wicked this way comes.
[Looking off.
What form is that? Hah! by this distant sight of it,
It seems a Djinn, come out to make a night of it.
Dan.
(L. outside.)
Lur-li-e-ty!
Mai.
It is a Djinn—dear, dear!
When will the sky of nuisances be clear?
It's most annoying, and by no means right,
That decent spirits can't fly out at night,
But they with such-like folks must come in contact;
Now, hang me! as a justice if I won't act;
I'll take the rascal up, upon suspicion,
And only let him go on one condition,
That of himself a good account he'll render.
[Looking off.
You precious scamp! I'll bring you to a tender.
[Withdraws.
Enter Danasch, flying.
SONG.
Tune—“Mrs. Johnson.”
Oh, I have had a charming ride,
The night could not more sweetly glide
With gents, the Coal Hole's walls inside,
Or at the Doctor Johnson.
The night could not more sweetly glide
With gents, the Coal Hole's walls inside,
Or at the Doctor Johnson.
A moonlight flit I do enjy,
[Stopping, as if struck by a sudden idea.
That's wrong pronounc'd though, by-the-bye,
For Walker spells it j-o-y,
And so does Doctor Johnson.
[Stopping, as if struck by a sudden idea.
That's wrong pronounc'd though, by-the-bye,
For Walker spells it j-o-y,
And so does Doctor Johnson.
No four-in-hand, or dog-cart rare,
Can with my “patent fly” compare,
Though saying so, I'm well aware,
Would anger Doctor Johnson.
Can with my “patent fly” compare,
Though saying so, I'm well aware,
Would anger Doctor Johnson.
For that great man was wont to cry,
Who'd make a pun would fake a cly!
I don't think so myself—not I—
But so says Doctor Johnson.
Who'd make a pun would fake a cly!
I don't think so myself—not I—
But so says Doctor Johnson.
Let's see what sort of sport now have I had;
Um! taken altogether, not so bad;
In the first place, a fog to earth I sent,
Which caused a charming Railway Accident—
And which, unless the air soon gets a cleanser,
Is safe to propagate the Influenza;
Then, knowing well what most men's feelings hurts,
I tore the buttons from no end of shirts;
I'm rather proud of that last-named expedient—
[Maimoune comes forward, R.
And then—Hilloa! madam, your most obedient.
Um! taken altogether, not so bad;
In the first place, a fog to earth I sent,
Which caused a charming Railway Accident—
And which, unless the air soon gets a cleanser,
Is safe to propagate the Influenza;
Then, knowing well what most men's feelings hurts,
I tore the buttons from no end of shirts;
I'm rather proud of that last-named expedient—
[Maimoune comes forward, R.
9
Mai.
Stand and deliver!
Dan.
What?
Mai.
Your name.
Dan.
Well, really,
Sky-high-way robbery this is, most clearly.
Who steals my purse steals trash—but 'tis a shame
If any filches from me my good name.
Mai.
No sauce, sir; keep your proper spirit level.
Dan.
(aside.)
She's my superior, I'd best be civil;
My name you wanted, was it, ma'am? oh yes,
I'll give it with a taste of my address.
SONG.
Tune—“My Name, it is Sam Hall.”
My name Danasch they call,
Lady sweet—
My name Danasch they call,
Lady sweet—
My name Danasch they call,
I'm a Djinn of power, but small,
And I rambles at nightfall
Through the skies.
My name Danasch they call,
Lady sweet—
My name Danasch they call,
Lady sweet—
My name Danasch they call,
I'm a Djinn of power, but small,
And I rambles at nightfall
Through the skies.
Mai.
(shaking her head.)
That name for your good conduct pleads but vainly;
But, now I see your ugly face more plainly,
I recognise it. What, sir, were you doing?
What kind of small-beer mischief were you brewing
One night—about the middle of last week—
When, like an atmospheric airy-sneak,
I saw you from a Chinese palace crawl?
Dan.
Admiring Nature's beauties, that was all.
[Maimoune laughs.
Well, and what of it? I suppose I may?
Mai.
Oh! by all means—what sort of beauty, pray?
Dan.
A female one; such shoulders, such a face!
I'm half in love—it's very near a case.
Mai.
And pray who thus inflames your tender bosom?
Dan.
“Lend me your ears;” or—stay, you'll want to use 'em.
DUET.
Tune—“Barclay and Perkins's Drayman.”
Dan.
In Pekin town does now reside
A princess, who doesn't much lack men,
Her lily-white hand she's long denied
To lots of first-rate or “crack” men.
10
Declaring she'll never obey man—
Which vexes her Pa.
Mai.
How remarkably like
The case of my Camaral-za-man!
Dan.
They've locked her up—but it's all in vain,
She still is determined to sack man,
Though suitors approach her again and again,
She turns up her nose at each Jack man;
But the brightest beauty earth has got,
By her would appear a tame 'un—
Mai.
Now, there you're wrong, for I'm sure she cannot
Compare with my Camaral-za-man.
Dan.
Pray, who's your friend?
Mai.
One whose bright beauty's ray
Would quite eclipse your bit of China clay.
Dan.
Gammon!
Mai.
Low wretch! expressions such as that!
Dan.
I say it's gammon—cut exceeding fat—
For many insults I've a strong digestion,
But I can't have my taste call'd into question.
Mai.
The public journalists are right in stating
The lower orders' tastes want elevating.
That youth the greatest beauty ever known is.
Dan.
I'll bet you six to one, in flying ponies—
Mai.
(aside.)
Now, really, I have half a mind to take him;
I will—if but a better judge to make him—
Done! here's my hand, though it's a degradation:
[They shake hands.
Of rival lines, here's an amalgamation.
Dan.
But you must find the proof!
Mai.
I will—a valid 'un—
Fly with your princess to the isles of Khaledan
I'll meet you there, from now, in half-an-hour,
In the top chambers of the eastern tower
Of the Imperial Palace.
Dan.
I'll be there:
Three thousand miles, though, to convey a fare,
In half an-hour, one must have to fly
Like electricity.
Pooh! that's gone by;
At least, I think so, if I've heard aright of it;
Mai.
At any rate, it seems they're making light of it!
11
Tune—“Fly not yet.”
Mai.
Fly, you've yet but half-an-hour
To reach your boasted beauty's bower,
And from her home, by magic might,
No matter where she spends the night—
To make her shoot the moon.
Dan.
'Tis but to vindicate my taste,
That so much time and toil I'll waste;
Oh! soon you'll find, her beauty glowing,
Will put a stop to all your crowing—
Mai.
Don't stay—don't stay.
Both.
The friend, of whom you seem so vain,
I'm quite convinced is rather plain;
You'll have to change your tune.
[Exeunt different ways.
| Camaralzaman And Badoura ; Or, The Peri Who Loved The Prince | |