University of Virginia Library

Scene Third.

—The Lists. Places taken by Timour, Zorilda, Liska, Selima (as Prize), Bermeddin, L. 3 E., &c. &c. &c., in dumb show, with a deal of pantomimic action; they sit, R.; after an Amazonian dance is performed, trumpets sound—the Lists are formed.
Kerim and Sanballat enter the Lists, from L., and fight with broadswords, Victoria fashion, without coming to any decisive result; Timour grows impatient.
Timour.
I say, we can't keep sitting here all day,
To see these fellows bungle in that way.
How long d'ye mean to sham? Go in for slaughter,
Or neither youth shall have Circassia's daughter.
(fight renewed)
Bah! Bungle, did I say? You're far too clever,
And therefore may go fencing on for ever.
To lose my time thus idly, I am loth,
So here's the finish. Lads, have at ye both!

(snatches two swords from the Guards—he springs into Lists and fights both together, amid applauding shouts—He disarms both Kerim and Sanballat at the same moment, and then rushes to Selima and clasps her in his arms, and next holds up both swords in one hand, as in a tableau)
Timour.
She's mine! She's mine! Rend with your shouts the air,
The brave deserve, and also win the fair.
Selima's name inscribe on all my banners.

Zoril.
My dear, but future spouse, are these your manners?

Timour.
Lor! are you riled?

Zoril.
And does it seem so strange,
A woman should feel hurt by such a change?

Timour.
Changed, my adored; you'll find no change in me.
I've a large heart, that's all—I'm quite at sea
To understand you. Why these silly bothers?
I never loved but you—and her—and others.
Come, sweetest!

Zoril.
Are you contemplating bigamy?

Timour.
Tartars, like Mormons, are allowed polygamy.
Come to these faithful arms. (still holding Selima)


Oglou rushes in, L. 1 E.
Oglou.
Cease fondling, coaxing,
The murder's out—there's been a nawful oaxing.
That's the Princess of Georgia, to your thinking?

Zoril.
Silence!

Oglou.
I shan't!

Timour.
Papa, if you've been drinking
Retire to bed without another word.

Oglou.
Through fifty bales of cotton I'll be heard;
Besides the quantity which it appears
Stops—only when you like—your lordship's ears.
That woman is Zorilda.

Timour.
Eh!—Matilda!
Who's she?

Oglou.
No, no!—Zorilda!

Zoril.
Ah!

Timour.
Zorilda!

Zoril.
No, no!

Oglou.
Yes, yes!—the Princess of Mingrelia!

Timour.
Oh, my worst foe—does this fair form conceal ye!
I'll not believe it.

Zoril.
Don't.

Oglou.
They hocussed Octar,
Then killed him with a homœopathic doctor.

Enter Octar rushing in, R. 1 E.
Octar.
No, I'm not dead!—I've 'scaped that bella donna,
That this one (pointing to Zorilda)
may have justice done upon her.
I live in spite of globules.

Oglou.
Octar!

Octar.
Yes!
I'll tell at length the tale of my distress.

Timour.
And if you dare, my pistol shall produce
A globule that will cure it. What's the use—
Distress be smothered! Tell me, slave, who's that?

(pointing to Zorilda)
Octar.
Zorilda, to be sure!

Timour.
(as Othello)
Oh, flat! flat! flat!
One trial more, to make the matter clear.
Guards, fetch that wretched boy. Bring Agib here!

Exeunt Guards, L.
Zoril.
(aside)
Oh, that bags Agib! Sir, there's nothing in it—
I'm not Zorilda.

Timour.
(deadly calm)
Madam, stop one minute,
Agib is brought in by Guards, L. 1 E.
Here, little darling—don't your feelings smother—
Ain't you uncommon pleased to see—

Agib.
(rushing to Zorilda)
My mother!

Zoril.
My child! my child! how lovely and how fair.
And how they have forgot to cut your hair.

Timour.
I'll save that sixpence. (touches sword)
Oh, you vile deceiver!
(aside)
But what's the use—I know I shall forgive her.

Concerted Piece, “Mountain Sylph.”
Zoril.
No don't, no don't detain him from his mother.

Agib.
You won't, you won't—all kindly feeling smother!

Oglou.
Here's a riot and a rumpus, I would do the thing that's right,
When it is within my compass. Truly I am puzzled quite.

Zoril. and Agib.
Here's a riot, here's a rumpus,—yet I'll dare the tyrant's might,
Fortune for a while may thump us, but at last she'll make it right.

Timour.
Snares and plots may thou encompass, teazing me by day and night;
But in spite of row and rumpus, Timour holds his kingdom tight.

Ensemble.
There's a riot,—here's a rumpus—which is wrong and which is right—
That is more than I can compass, for I'm sure I'm puzzled quite!

(closed in)