Part 4

Conrad. Man! I’m not your hearty, And to cheer up, I’m not at all the party.

1st Cors. Why is great Conrad ever sad?

Conrad. Ah, why? Who can explain this secret grief; not I-- That secret kept so dark, none e’er saw through it-- I don’t believe that even Byron knew it. [Crosses, L.

Go, go, poor giddy things, employ your leisure, In seeking what the thoughtless world calls pleasure.

1st Cors. Say, is there aught you’d like, that we can bring, To soothe your grief--

Conrad. [L.] I don’t like anything; The gloomy spirit in this aching breast, Despises most things, and can’t bear the rest; Deems happiness an empty sound, no more; The world a humbug--life itself a bore-- There’s nothing in it! Leave me. [They are going. Tell me, though, Hast seen Birbanto our lieutenant?

1st Cors. No. [Exeunt, R.

Enter BIRBANTO, L.

Birb. Behold him, here! What would great Conrad--Eh? Anything wanted in my little way? [Drawing his dagger.

If so, just give your orders and it’s done-- From pitch and toss to manslaughter, all’s one.

Conrad. Thou art the best o’ the cut-throats--

Birb. I’m no bragger, But, I must say, I’m not bad at a dagger, I’ve one to serve you with in any way, [Aside.] And serve you out with, too, I hope, some day.

Conrad. You’re very kind.

Birb. But pardon the suggestion-- My dagger’s point was not the point in question. You asked for me--

Conrad. I might have done. Heigho!

Birb. Pooh! try some drink--you’re several cups too low.

Conrad. Nay, I have tried--I drained a flask this minute----

Birb. Well, when you’d drained it?

Conrad. There was nothing in it. All things I’ve tried, but they bring no relief To the used-up, bored, blase pirate chief. Travel I’ve tried, from place to place still dodging, You’ll find me bored where’er you find me lodging. The stormy waves no change to me afford, For if I’m shipwrecked, still I’m overboard; I’ve sought excitement east, west, north, and south, In battle-strife--e’en at the cannon’s mouth, But all in vain: amid the battle’s roar, I found the cannon’s mouth was but a bore! Enough of this.

Birb. [Aside.] Too much for me to stand; A pretty fellow to command our band. Oh, I should like to---- [Raises dagger; CONRAD turns round; BIRBANTO bows after the approved style of melodrama.

Conrad. Where’s my galley?

Birb. [Pointing off R.] Sir, The galley’s there--that buoy’s attached to her.

Conrad. Keep her in readiness to sail to-night, In case of accidents. D’ye hear? [Same business with the dagger.

Birb. [Bowing.] All right! [Exit CONRAD, R.

It shall be so. We’ve stood him long enough-- A spoony, pining, sentimental muff; He’s not at all my notion of a Corsair-- I like black worsted curls and beard of horsehair; The good old heavy style of melodram, More like the individual I am. Yet the band love him. Well, it is but right To own he is the very deuce to fight, When he begins. No matter! we shall see Which they prefer to lead them--him or me! To sound them on the point, at once I go forth. [Shaking his fist towards where CONRAD has gone off.

Tremble! Despair! Ha, ha! Revenge! and so forth!

Song.--BIRBANTO.--Air, “Dusty Bob’s Hornpipe.”

Scruples, lie down--for in guilt I’m dyed so deep already; Harder ’twould be to go back than to proceed. After the scores that this dagger’s sent to sleep already Why should I pause at one other little deed? Tremble, proud Conrad--a foe you don’t expect in me; Tremble--despair--as, I think, I said before. You once removed--as their leader--they electing me-- Crown all the hopes that so long I’ve pondered o’er.