Part 13

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?