University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE. I.

—Public Place in Curripoudah (the capitol portion of Mulligatawney), in the vicinity of the Palace. Strangers in various costumes, with luggage, carpet bags, &c., throng the stage. Men walking about with placards, such as “An excellent dust bin to let—rent 500 rupees a week;” “A commodious lamp post in the neighbourhood of the Exhibition, suitable for swinging a single or double hammock —rent moderate;” “A dog kennel for a single man— 200 rupees per week;” “Visitors to the Exhibition may be accommodated with well ventilated apartments in the Ball of the Grand Mosque,” &c., &c.
CHORUS.
“Bartlemy Fair.”
What a bustle—it's too bad,
Not a lodging to be had,
Ev'ry nook and corner collar'd,
Ev'ry bait to grab at swallow'd,
Fill'd by foreigners erratic,
Leaving not a single attic;
Let alone a snug two pair, Oh!
Britons here;
Frenchmen queer;
Cousins German;
Turkish Firman;
Yankees knowing,
“Smartest going;”
Poles and Dutchmen,
Swedes and such men;
Hey down! ho down! very, very brown,
Are we done by this National Affair, Oh!

Enter Cranbourn Ali (the Rajah); Dost Ymillah, Guards, &c. &c., L.
Ali.
Hence! home, ye idle varlets, get ye home;
Is this a holiday, that thus ye roam,
Disturbing, with your vile discordant shindies,
One of the richest monarchs of the Indies?

1. Pleb.
Dread Sir! our homes to move, we'd not be slow to,
But the job is we can't find homes to go to.
The town's so full, with visitors beset,
There's not a single coal-hole to be let;
And cow-house keepers for their stalls with hay for 'em,
Demand so much we can't afford to pay for 'em;
Each chimney pot has guests to dine or sup in it,
And not a cab but has a bed made up in it.
A good dry pigsty up a healthy court
Fetches almost unheard of sums; in short,
A saying old, on all sides meets the ear,
“It's all very fine, Mr. Foreigner, but you don't lodge here.”

Ali.
SONG.

Voices.
(Outside.)
Bal—loon!

[Plebeians all enter L.
Ali.
What means that row?

Dost.
Sire! the Queen of Beauty's coming!

Ali.
How?

Dost.
In her new locomotive steam balloon.

Ali.
And you stand gaping there—slaves, change your tune!
Are'nt you informed our conquering daughter comes?
Sound—sound your trumpets, beat your Indian drums.

CHORUS.
“Fly not yet.”
Raise your voices, one and all—
“Long live the Queen of Beauty” bawl;
All hail! and such like phrases sing;
Huzzah! and all that sort of thing!
Bal—loon!

[They follow the balloon off, R.
[Balloon crosses in the distance L. to R., with the paddles working. The Queen of Beauty in the car, with two Fairies, one of whom is steering.
Queen of B.
(Outside.)
Half turn astern! Ease her! now, hard-a-port!
Stop her! move her ahead! There that's your sort!
[Enter with Fairies, R.
Now, take it home—be careful how you go.

Fairy.
Feed it?

Queen.
Yes; half a sack of coke, or so,
Give it some water, and rub down the car.
Be off!
[Exeunt Fairies, R.
And, now to business. Hah! papa!
Kiss! I can't stop.

Ali.
(Looking at her admiringly.)
Where have you been so early?

Queen.
Not far; to Fairy-land—so don't be surly.

Ali.
To Fairy-land!—you are a one to go.
What for?

Queen.
A thousand things!

Ali.
But let me know.

Queen.
Why, first to pass!

Ali.
Pass! What?

Queen.
The Magic College,
The fairy hall of necromantic knowledge.
All right!

Ali.
I'm glad to hear it. What though? Tell me.

Queen.
Got through triumphantly! they tried to sell m---

Ali.
Who?

Queen.
The Examiners.

Ali.
But say, what's selling?

Queen.
Oh! tried to dodge me in my magic spelling;
Knew ev'ry meaning! Then they tried annoyance,
Thinking I wasn't up in my clairvoyance;
Saw through it, ev'ry bit—that wouldn't do:
Then ask'd me if the bottle trick I knew—
Did it before their eyes—quick! presto! Pass!
Here's my diploma—Sprite of the First Class!

[Shows diploma.
Ali.
Wonderful girl! Then now, of course, the fact is
That you're a Fairy!

Queen.
Yes; and mean to practise.

DUETT.
“Valse D'Amour.”
Queen.
Yes, the great fairy guns, now I'm equal to—

Ali.
Don't say so!

Queen.
If you doubt it, my powers I'll test on you.

Ali.
Oh, dear no!

Queen.
Just let me. I'm sure you won't care, papa,
For fun—it would so make them stare, papa.
Transform you—say, into a bear, papa,
Or something my powers to try—

Ali.
(Spoken—terrified.)
Certainly not.

Queen.
A wolf, or an ass, just to show—
It won't hurt, for a minute or so.

Ali.
(Spoken.)
Take her away!

Queen.
Well, never mind;
But I must say, you're very unkind!
Just a moment, I so want to try.

Ali.
(Spoken.)
Couldn't think of it.

Queen.
A racoon, or a nice Russian bear;
Or a hog, with a fine head of hair!

Ali.
(Spoken.)
Be quiet!

Queen.
Well, never mind, &c.

Queen.
Well, I must go.

[Crosses to L.
Ali.
But why this expedition?
Stay! tell me how gets on your Exhibition?

Queen.
Why, I can't say as fast as I could wish it—
An enemy does all he can to dish it,
A Genie, Jarjarhees by name; who knows
That, by its magic influence, I propose
To crush some pow'rs he likes, but I abhor—
Ill feeling, discord, prejudice, and war;
And in their stead establish, 'twixt each nation,
A peaceful kind of friendly emulation;
The wretch does all he can my views to thwart,
Brews storms to wreck my ships that come in port;
Tears down my posters, and with fiendish malice
Does all he can to smash my Crystal Palace!

Ali.
But sure your arts might break the rascal's bones!

Queen.
(Significantly.)
Folks in glass houses oughtn't to throw stones.
Yet, spite of him and all such critic cavillers,
Our work gets on, astonishing the travellers—
Who own, as rising to the clouds they view it,
Magic, and magic pow'r alone, could do it.


GRAND MEDLEY OF ALL NATIONS.
“The Ties of Friendship.”
“Ching-a-ring-a-ring-ching.”
“Paddy o'Flanagan.”
“Portrait Charmant.”
“German Air.”
“There are sax eggs in the pon', gude mon.”
“Yankee Doodle.”
“Il segreto.”
“Home, sweet Home.”
“Rule Britannia.”


But here I'm wasting time.

[Going.
Ali.
Where goes my pretty?

Queen.
Where? why to take the chair—I'm on committee.

[Exit L.
Ali.
Who wouldn't be a father!
[A cry heard.
Hah! who roar'd?

Dost.
It is the cry of women, good my lord.

Enter Ameer Stikh.
Ame.
My lord, the Vizier's dead.

Ali
(dropping a sceptre, à la Macbeth.)
Eh! dead? absurd—
There would have been a time for such a word:
But now to die, when so much work he'd got to
Finish particularly!—Tell him not to.

Att.
Sire, he won't hear of it.

Ali.
With rage we burst!
Treason has been and gone and done its worst.
Here! we must have a Vizier—go and catch one!
Buy one! send out!—Stay, take a cab and fetch one.

Dost.
I fear, sire, not a tradesman in the land
Keeps an assortment, ready made, on hand.

Ali.
Then order one!—Stay: very likely, though, 'tis
Hard to knock up one on so short a notice.
Hold!—of a great idea we're on the brink—
Yes! bring a table, paper, pens and ink,
And place them there.

Dost.
Would our great king be arter
Writing petitions for the People's Charter?

Ali.
Peace!
[A table is brought, L., furnished as he requested.
There's a science that we much delight in,
Which tells folks' characters by their handwriting;
We'll try it. Call our faithful subjects here:
A show of hands shall choose us a vizier.
One we must have, if only an apology—
And what so good a test as Graphiology?

Dost.
Oh, yes! oh, yes! step forward please, draw near!
Those who want places—Wanted, a Vizier!
All applications to be made by letter,
And those who don't do so at once had better.

[Plebeians flock in during his speech.
Ali.
Go on—all write!
[Pointing to table.
[A Plebeian writes. Ali inspects his production.
Why, this is past belief:
This man's a swindler!—nay, a very thief!

Pleb.
Sire!

Ali.
Slave! thou hast not cross'd a single T.
All I can say is—let him not cross me!
[The Plebeian runs out frightened. Another writes. Ali inspects as before.
No upright man would make such sloping y's,
And there's a queer expression in his i's!
[The second writer disappears like the first. Another writes.
Ah! your orthography stands in your way—
We don't spell Cranbourn Ali with a K.
[Business repeated. Another writes.
A composition in the Ragged school
Who writes so crookedly can never rule.
[Another writes.
There, that'll do—on them we've wasted time enough:
There's not one for a minister that's prime enough!
With all that public press of men of mark,
To think the crown should want an organ. Hark!

[An organ is heard outside playing “Jeannette and Jeannot” very dolefully. Cranbourn Ali expresses excruciating agony at the sound.
Dost.
There's one, sire, with a boy in leather gaiters!

[Tune increases in violence.
Ali.
(Holding his ears and writhing in agony.)
Not that sort! worst of all peace devastators!
[Tune very loud indeed.
We cannot bear it!—Ease him! back him! stop him!
Drag him before us! seize him! whack him! whop him!

[Guards rush out, and are heard struggling with Codja and Zubeydeh.
Zub.
(Outside.)
You let us go!

Guard.
(Ditto.)
Bring in the baggage!

Codja.
(Ditto)
Ah, no!

[Guards rush in dragging in Codja, Zubeydeh, and the Ape. Codja is dressed in a broad-brimmed felt hat and goiters as an Italian boy, and carries a barrel-organ. Zubeydeh with a silk handkerchief on her head like a Savoyard girl. She carries a tambourine. She clings to Codja with one hand and with the other holds a chain, to which the Ape is attached, dressed in a red jacket and cap and feather, after the fashion of monkeys connected with promenade concerts.
Codja.
(Falling on his knees to Ali.)
Pieta, Signori—povero 'Taliano!

Ali.
Pooh! that tune won't do here—

Codja.
(Aside.)
It won't? The deuce!
We thought to find it of the greatest use
When we embraced the musical profession.
(Aside to Zub)
Dodge Number One don't answer—try a fresh 'un.

Zub.
(To Ali.)
Oh! spare a wand'ring artist and his wife
Just married, struggling to get on in life,
To scrape enough to buy some white mice creeping,
And a few guinea-pigs towards housekeeping.

Codja.
Do!

Ali.
Caitiff, hast thou not the world annoy'd,
The peace of thousand families destroy'd?
Hast not their comfort at defiance set,
Taunting them with “We may be happy yet?”
Scared happiness from many lowly walls,
With dreams of having dwelt in Marble Halls?

Zub.
But still to make amends we're always willing,
Let us move on—we will—

Codja.
Under a shilling!

Ali.
Whence came ye?

Zub.
It's a long and painful story,

Ali.
Tell it, and we may pardon—

Codja.
Si signori!

[Zubeydeh takes her tambourine and sings to its accompaniment. Codja plays the organ. The Ape moves slowly round to the tune.
SONG. Zubeydeh.
“Jenny Jones.”
[Codja plays symphony. The Monkey begs of Cranbourn Ali with his cap in his mouth.

[The Ape kneels to Cranbourn Ali, kissing his robe.
Ali.
Wonder! we scarce can credit what we see.
Rise, loyal monkey!

Codja.
Why, the fact is, he
Has travelled much—has often been at court—
A monkey who has seen the world, in short.

[The king weeps.
Dost.
Our monarch weeps!

Ali.
Excuse this furtive tear—
He so reminds us of our lost vizier.
Such was his attitude ere grim death dish'd him—
So would he dance to any tune we wish'd him;
Thus, hat in hand, he went, by no means proud,
For us extracting coppers from the crowd.
He was a man! his like we seek in vain—
We ne'er shall look upon sich like again!

Codja.
Hopeless?

Ali.
Completely! Numbers have applied,
Whose powers by their caligraphy we've tried
On yonder desk; but none of them could trace
Characters good enough for such a place.

[The Ape tries to break away from Zubeydeh, and run towards writing-table.
Zub.
Jacko! come here! (Ape breaks away from her.)
He's off like any rocket.

Codja.
He smells some gingerbread in some one's pocket.

Zub.
Oh, dear! he'll get us into dreadful scrapes!
Warning to all young women—don't lead apes!

[The Ape tries to get at the table; Guards keep him off. He comes forward, and explains by signs that he wishes to write.
Ali.
Explain what all that antic frisk and hop is.

Codja.
My liege, I think, he's setting round-hand copies.

Ali.
He wants to write! Give way, there, guards and flunkies!

Zub.
He'll spill the ink.

Codja.
Stuff!

Zub.
Monkeys will be monkeys!

[The Ape makes absurd preparations for writing: looks at nib of pen, &c., and commences writing.
Ali.
To credit this we all our faith must summon.

Codja.
Talk about comic writers!—there's a rum un!

[The Ape pauses, and scratches his head.
Ali.
Why does he pause with knit and thoughtful brow?

Codja.
He's waiting for a rhyme—
[The Ape having finished his operations, re-commences writing.
He's got it now!

[Ali, Zubeydeh, Codja, and Dost look over in breathless interest.
Ali.
He dots his I's—

Dost.
And minds his P's and Q's—

Ali.
Great A's—

Zub.
Superior T's—

Codja.
Capital U's!

[Ape gives paper to Ali, and the attendant removes table, &c.
CONCERTED.
“Cease your sunning.”
Ali
(looking at the Ape's writing.)
Cease your punning!
This is stunning!
Not gold pens and best japan,
With the blessings
Of “six lessings,”
Could surpass it! He's our man!

Zub.
'Tis most certing,
Scribes diverting
Of the monkey tribe are known;
Mouthing, jibbing;
Always cribbing
Goods from others, not their own.

Ali
(reads).
“Agib is my proper name,
Distant is my nation:
This comes hoping I may suit
The Vizier's situation.”


Suit! such a brilliant hand we really never!—
Proclaim as our vizier this monkey clever!

Codja.
Stop! as his friends, his interests we must see to:
We wish to know what terms you would agree to.

Ali.
Say twenty pounds a week—of cake—for salary—

Zub.
And in the house the free run of the gallery?

Ali.
Granted.

Zub.
Of chesnuts once a month a full sack?

Codja.
Snug quarters?

Ali.
We'll promote him to the woolsack,
And of the Woods and Forests make him free.

Codja.
Once there, he'll soon get to the top o'th'tree.

Zub.
At least six cats in waiting he'll require,
With paws to take his chesnuts from the fire.

Ali.
They of our civil list shall swell the book.

Zub.
Pull down the bill—the Vizier's place is took.

Ali.
Bring forth the robes of office!

Codja
(detaining him).
Stop! don't go, man.

Ali.
Anything else?

Codja.
A trifle for the showman.

[Touching his hat.
Ali.
True—you shall serve him with his currant-buns,
As Master of the Rolls, and Sally Lunns!
(To Zub.)
And you, as Mistress of the Robes shall care,
To keep his monkey-jackets in repair.
Now, sound! et cetera, and throughout the nation
Chair him, and of our choice make proclamation.

[All shout.
[Attendants bring in a robe of office, in which they clothe the Ape, who is hoisted upon the shoulders of Guards. The characters form a procession, Zubeydeh and Codja taking the lead.
CHORUS.
“Sturm March Galop.”
Zub.
(Dancing before the procession with tambourine.)
Jacko's now in clover. Cymbals bang,

Chorus.
Hurrah!

Zub.
Thump the drums, and let the trumpets clang!

Chorus.
Hurrah!
Jacks in office are these—yes, a gang,

Chorus.
Hurrah!
Greater brutes than our orang-outang!

Chorus.
Hurrah!
Monkey tricks we often see,
In the best society;
Why then heed his monkey shape,
He'll his better's manners ape!
Thump then the drums, and cymbals clang,
Sound the martial trumpets, let the cannon bang,
Shout long life to our orang-outang!
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Jacko's now in clover, &c.

[Exeunt, U. E. L.

Scene II.

—The Queen of Beauty's Sanctum Sanctorum.
Enter the Queen of Beauty and Fairy Attendants, some carrying papers.
Queen.
Bring me some more reports! I'll read them all,
Till St. John's Wood remove to dark Blackwall.
I'll not give in! What's the fiend Jarjarhees?
Who cares for him and all his nasty tease.
Enter a Fairy (R.) hastily.
Hedge nettles flog thy back! thou snail-paced loon
Why trott'st thou thus, goose—look!
[Showing a watch.
It's long past noon!

Fairy.
There are ten thousand—

Queen.
Geese, silly?

Fairy.
Letters!

Queen.
Slattern!
Go prick thy thumbs, and spoil thy crochet pattern,
Thou Liliputian girl! What letters, Patch?

Fairy.
English.

Queen.
Begone! We'll come and read the batch?
[Exit Fairy, R.
Hang those that talk of bed! Fatigue I scout,
I'll work till from my hair the curl comes out.
Sweetlips!

Enter another Fairy, L.
Fairy.
Your gracious pleasure?

Queen.
What news more?

Fairy.
The glaziers strike for wages—

Queen.
That's a bore!
His doing! Never mind, let more be found;
Send out more posters—skir the country round.
[Exit Fairy, L.
The opposition presses rather thickly,
Enter Ameer Stikh.
Thou com'st to use thy tongue—thy story quickly!

Ame.
Gracious my lady!

Queen.
Well?

Ame.
I shall report
That which I say I saw, but didn't ought.
I look'd from out the Building—and methought
The Park began to move!

Queen.
Story and crammer!

Ame.
It proved to be a Yankee panorama
Two hundred miles in length! They claim admission,
As their donation to the Exhibition!

Queen.
We have supp'd full of horrors—don't suppose
We've room to go such dreadful lengths as those.
Take thy face hence!
[Exit Ameer Stikh, R.
'Tis madness what they ask—
I 'gin to be a weary of my task.
This fiend's annoyances will never end—
Enter a Fairy Porter (L.) with a box.
Now then!

Porter.
My liege, “a trifle from Gravesend.”

Queen.
SONG.

Att.
The king doth wake to-night.

Queen.
Wake! I should think he did, and keeps his rows,
But still he needn't wake th'entire house;
Our parent seems 'gainst decent rules a sinner—
What is the row?

Att.
'Tis an election dinner!
A new Vizier!—

Queen.
We've something of it heard,
But hadn't time to listen to a word.

Enter Dost Ymillah, R.
Dost.
May your mellifluence live a thousand years!
The Rajah's compliments, and the Vizier's,
And could you lay aside your witch'ry's power,
And shut your magic shop up for an hour,
And join them at dessert—it's just brought on!

Queen.
Our compliments, and say we won't—begone!
[Exit Dost Ymillah.
We've got too big, when people come to dine,
To be ask'd in to take a glass of wine.

Enter Cranbourn Ali R., considerably sprung, his turban very much on one eye, and his hands in his pockets.
Ali.
I—say—do—come!

Queen.
Now, pa! dear! what a state!
Before one's fairies, too! (To Attendants.)
Absquatulate!
[Fairies vanish R and L.
I, who've on Exhibitions spent such pelf,
To see my father make one of himself!
In your position, too—you really oughtn't!

Ali.
We couldn't help it, that's the long and short on't;
That Vizier! he's the drollest dog—at least
Not dog—

Queen.
Why not? No doubt a perfect beast!

Ali.
But still he's tip-top company—that's certain;
Just see him scramble up the window-curtain!

Queen.
The window-curtain!

Ali.
Yes; or take the chair,
And stand upon his head on it—it's rare!
Or stuff his cheeks with nuts and apples, quite full—
Such an amount of cheek is quite delightful!

Queen.
Why, what strange animal have you employ'd?

Ali.
A wild young monkey!

Queen.
What?

Ali.
Don't be annoy'd
That a four-handed Vizier serves your father;
Doesn't he play four-handed cribbage! rather!

Queen.
A monkey—speak! what sort?

Ali.
He seems to me
Between a Ringtail and a Chimpanzee,
Could he but speechify—he almost sang—
I should pronounce him a harangue outang!

Queen.
(Aside.)
A learned ape! No doubt the very prince,
Changed by my foe, Jarjarhees, some time since;
If so, a settlement with him I'll make,
And his change out of that he'll have to take!

Enter Codja, extravagantly dressed, R.
Codja.
I say, come on, old boy, the bottle stands,
The Vizier don't—he scarce can keep his hands!

[Trying to pull Ali away
Ali.
(To Queen.)
Do come!

Queen.
I really want to see the rarity!

Ali.
Make us some coffee—

Queen.
(Looking at them.)
It would be a charity.

Ali.
He's not particular, so drop all shyness.

Queen.
I'll follow you—

Ali.
(Going with Codja.)
That's right!

[A terrific smash, as of breaking glass is heard.
Codja.
(In extacies.)
Hark at his Highness!

[Exeunt Ali and Codja, arm-in-arm.
Queen.
Revenge! and so forth—if I have got hold of
The monkey that my magic arts have told of,
As I suspect. This Genie fiend, who dares,
To my annoyance, thus to show his airs,
Quick to the right about dismiss'd shall be,
With, in his ear, the most industrious flea
That my Industrial Exhibition boasts of—
Nor left with chances of escape the ghosts of!
SONG.

[Exit

SCENE 3.

—The Rajah's Snuggery in the Palace. A Persian carpet, (C.) with drinking materials, lights, hookahs. &c. Cranbourn Ali, (R.) Codja, (L.) Dost Ymillah, (L.) and the Ape (R.) discovered forming a symposium in an advanced state of festivity. They are seated at first, and sing uproariously the following.
CHORUS.
Oh, vive l'amour! cigars and cogniac!
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! of these we'll have our whack.

[They repeat the Chorus, joining hands, and dancing round extravagantly.
Enter the Queen of Beauty, L.
Queen.
My masters, are ye mad?
[They stop their uproar. The Ape makes a respectful obeisance.
(Coughing.)
Oh! Faugh! What smokers!
One's suffocated by these bird's-eye chokers.

Ali.
Clean glasses and a pipe!

Codja.
Somehow I feel
As if each boot had a revolving heel!
Unjustly they with chains Galileo bound—
I feel he spoke the truth—the world goes round!

Ali.
(Presenting Ape to Queen of Beauty.)
Allow me to present to you my treasure—
The friend I named.

Queen.
(Curtseying.)
I think I have pleasure
To know the gentleman.

Ali.
You know him?

Queen.
Yes;
And all about him.

[Crosses to R.
Ali.
Then we must confess,
With consternation and with wonder great,
You've form'd some odd acquaintances of late,
Which ought to be inquired into.

Queen.
Well—
Inquire away, your fears I'll soon dispel,
You're right though, people to interrogate,
Who come in such a questionable state.
SONG.

Ali.
That girl knows ev'rything.

Queen.
Your eyes on me,
Just keep, and you shall see what you shall see.

Ali.
What would you do?

Queen.
Do! make him a new man.
Set him once more on his own legs—

Ali.
You can?

Queen.
You'll see;

Ali.
Impossible.

Queen.
Dispel your fears;
I've had experience now for some few years
In Fairy matters, and I think you'll own,
In the most trying situations known.
With ogres, giants, monsters, oft in action,
I've generally given satisfaction.
Whenever fortune has provided such for me,
You ought to know, they've never proved too much for me.

Ali.
True, I was wrong to doubt your pow'rs, my daughter,
Who've seen what you can do?

Queen.
A glass of water!

Dost Ymillah presents her with a glass of water; she performs magical gesticulations over it.
Ali.
What is she after?

Codja.
I'm inclined to think
She's hocus pocussing the monkey's drink.

INCANTATION.
Queen.
Sprites, of Fairy land the flower,
Lend a friend your magic power!
Sprites who lavish'd long ago,
Fortune on Fortunio;
Gentle sylphs, who don't forget
All the claims of Percinet;
Guardians of the Minstrel boy,
Golden Lucidora's joy;
Airy forms that used to wander,
Watching o'er unseen Leander;
Light and gauzy Peri clan,
Friends to Camaralzaman;
Aid, with all your powers, one
Who her best for you has done.
[Approaching the Monkey with water, she sings
Air, “Off she goes.”

[Jarjarhees outside roars through speaking trumpet
Beware!

Queen.
Don't be alarmed, such hollow tricks we're used to
From those who have their fellow-men reduced to
The level of the brutes. Whene'er they see
Any attempt the poor dark things to free
From their captivity, by arts enlighten'd
And make them Human Beings, they get frightened.
And in the steps of light and science prowl,
Trying to stop it by some wretched howl.
[Music and thunder. Jarjarhees appears wearing a lion's head and roaring. Ali, Codja, &c., appear frightened.
(To Characters.)
You needn't go. Who minds his senseless din?
We know what creature wears the lion's skin!
Thou wear a lion's skin! Doff it, for shame,
And hang a calf-skin—

Jar.
Thank you all the same.
[Running at her with his mouth open.
We'll try—which to be the best man can boast.

Queen.
I'm told I make as good a man as most.

Jar.
You have no weapon, and perforce must suffer,

Queen.
You'll find you're playing with edged tools, my buffer!

[She stamps and waves her hand. A scimitar with the wings and head of a dove flies in—she catches it. Opens a parasol, which forms a shield.
DUETT.
“Olga Waltz.”
[The Queen of Beauty follows Jarjarhees round the stage, attacking him with scimitar.
Queen.
Now mind your evil eye, sir,
Tremble! despair! and die, sir!
Out of your hide a rise, sir,
Soon I'll be taking!

Jar.
(Roaring as she hits him.)
Oh!

Queen.
There's one for you—

Jar.
Oh!

Queen.
A stun for you—

Jar.
Oh!

Queen.
I've done for you!

Jar.
Oh!

[Jarjarhees runs out (L.) yelling in extreme agony, the Queen of Beauty following attacking him. Cranbourn Ali, Codja, Dost Ymillah, and the Ape press forward, as if watching the fight.
Ali.
Go it, my beauty!

Codja.
Anybody bet?

Dost.
Ten to one on the Curripoudah pet!

Ali.
The Genie's getting “groggy” very fast,

Dost.
He comes up “piping,”

Codja.
Now he's “heav'ly grass'd!”

Dost.
Behold! she plants “a mouse” beneath his eye,

Ali.
And now she's got his head “in chancery!”

Codja.
It's off!

Ali.
What's off?

Codja.
The Genie's head!

Dost.
But, see,
He's changed into an eagle—

Ali.
So has she!

[Music. An eagle flies across the stage (L. to R.,) followed by another, in hot chase.
Codja.
At him again, he's got no friends.

[A loud mewing and spitting is heard outside (R.)
Ali.
What's that?

Dost.
I never!

Codja.
What?

Dost.
He's changed into a cat!

Ali.
And see! my child becomes a wolf—all right!

[Crowing of a cock.
Dost.
And now, a cock!

Codja.
Pooh! pooh! that cock won't fight.

Ali.
To try foul play I'm sure she never wishes,

Dost.
They're changed again!

Ali.
Ye, gods!

Codja.
To little fishes!

Dost.
All goes on swimmingly!

Ali.
To fishes! gammon!

Codja.
It's true—the cock has changed to a cock salmon.

[Loud reports of crackers, &c. Red fire (R.)
Dost.
See, now they fight with fire!

Ali.
'Tis past endurance,
Why that's the very height of Fire Assurance!
[Jarjarhees runs in divested of lion's head (L.), with a cracker tied to his tail, &c. The Queen of Beauty after him with a squib.
Daughter, you'll burn your fingers. Go—retire!
You naughty girl! how dare you play with fire!

Queen.
Look in his face, papa, and say if I
Am not quite right to treat him as a Guy?

[Jarjarhees falls on trap
Jar.
Quarter!

Queen.
Not half a quarter!

Jar.
Mercy!

Queen.
None!

Jar.
Once! twice! the third time! Going! going!—Gone!

[A loud explosion. Jarjarhees falls rapidly through trap. Red fire.
Ali.
He went off with a bang!

Queen.
Yes, pa, and so did
Many a humbug, now like him exploded.
Humbugs and errors that in every day
Have o'er the world established their dark sway
Science attacks them—then a blaze—a roar—
A struggle brief—a smoke—and all is o'er.
Warm work, though—wasn't it?

Ali.
It was. But see—
She's out of breath. Take heart!

Codja.
She wants a knee.

[Ali supports her on his knee, Codja holds smelling bottle to her nose. Dost Ymillah fans her.
Queen.
There, that's enough! of adverse pow'r divested,
Virtue and self can work on unmolested;
(To Ape.)
Come, be a man! No more that form retain,
Monkeys avaunt! Agib's himself again!

[Throws water on Ape, who disappears. Agib appears in his place.
Ali.
What do I see? My grand Vizier!

Codja.
My 'prentice!

Agib.
Am I awake, and really compos mentis?

Queen.
You are!

Agib.
My gratitude to prove, I'm seeking
For words, but really so unused to speaking
I've been these few months, it's no easy matter.

Queen.
Well, as you're not a monkey now, don't chatter.
I've not done all I mean for you, e'en yet,
The princess from enchantment free I'll set,
Now that my adversary's power's diminish'd.
Enter a Fairy.
How now?

Fairy.
The palace!

Queen.
Well, what of it?

Fairy.
Finish'd!

Queen.
The factious opposition floor'd—I knew it.
Come, one and all—it's glass—so let's look through it!
Or stay! I'll call it to you.

Ali.
I've strong fears
The house won't hear you,

Queen.
Why not? Walls have ears.
Approach!

[The scene changes to the Interior of the Crystal Palace, discovering Gulnare supported by Fairies, &c.
Ali.
My stars!

Codja.
My eyes!

Queen.
My Crystal Palace spacious!

Gal.
(To Agib.)
My lord!

Agib.
My life!

Gul.
My love!

Agib.
My duck!

Enter Zubeydeh.
Zub.
My gracious!

Queen.
Hey day! my patience! do respect it, pray;
My work is done—I've just one word to say,
It is to you— (To Audience.)
I beg, with all submission,
To ask you how you like our Exhibition?
We leave it in your hands, with one short pray'r—
Deal gently with it—mind! it's “Glass, with care!”
We've got our Crystal Palace finish'd, yet
There's a donation we from you would get;
Say, to the produce here of Foreign Lands,
Will you just add the work of British hands?

[Indicates clapping.
FINALE, and general Dance of the Characters. Tune,—“Sir Roger de Coverley.”
Queen.
Then may we hope, e'er breaking up—

Ali.
You'll the matter taking up—

Queen.
Aid our endeavours, a jovial
Christmas party in making up.

Zub.
Don't be too hard on us pray!

Codja.
Pieta Signori, I cry again!

Zub.
And if we've been wanting to-day,
Allow us to-morrow to try again.

Agib.
Grant your smiles so flattering—

Dost.
Else our hopes all shattering—

Gul.
I'd rather be buried again—

Agib.
And I a monkey chattering.

Queen.
Though I can genies subdue—

Ali.
And dark spirits make ev'ry hour less—

Queen.
Unless I prevail, too, with you,
I feel I am utterly powerless.

Chorus.
Then may we hope, e'er breaking up, &c.