A considerable proportion of Abu Hassan is in verse, including dialogue, soliloquies, and songs. Inasmuch as this material is extensive in its entirety and yet much consists merely of scattered lines or short dialogues, it is impracticable to reprint it in full. The longer versified portions only are included here. The page references are all to the 1924 edition published by the Bibliophile Society (the only edition which has appeared). The extracts are reprinted by the Society’s kind permission.
[From pages 32 and 33]
I’ll give a fête champêtre,
With song and dance first rate, Sir;
The foremost place shall my little wife have,
A chaplet gay her brow adorning,
And smiling like a bright May morning,
The empress of the feast appear.
Ho! Slaves there! — bring wine,
Then scatter roses in,
And with her purple lip (sweet)
Shall first Fatima sip (it).
So! Set the goblet here! —
Now dearest, to our welfare —
And that it long may tell fair,
Drink I this goblet clear.
Today’s the time for singing,
Therefore the guitars bring in, —
Quick! quick! and do not stay,
Though piping, singing, laughing,
And jolly goblets quaffing
We while dull life away.
Oh Fatima, my dearest,
Who to me so tender art,
Love devoting, joys delighting,
Care no more my bosom fills.
Around now my darling to light moving measure;
Come dancing with bright eyes all sparkling with pleasure.
Fine! Bravo! — Surpassing! She trips now more near
And shyly she gives a sweet kiss to her dear —
Though should our project founder —
Why, what cares she or I?
[From pages 48 and 49]
DUETTO
Abu Hassan
Never shalt thou sigh and languish,
Thou belov’d and faithful heart,
But this breast shall share thy anguish,
Seeking comfort to impart.
Fatima
Tears, love, are like dew from heaven
Under which affection blooms,
And the guardians of the flowers —
Faithfulness and constancy.
[From pages 50 and 51]
ARIA
The nightingale ne’er grieves her
When from her cage set free
Once more among the blossoms
She sports from tree to tree.
One glance towards the window
Where her late prison hangs,
Then loud she pours her rapture
And fills the grove with joy.
She flaps her little pinions
And far aloft doth soar
Through heav’n’s unclouded regions,
Glad to be free once more.
But, Abu Hassan, without thee
No pleasure have I ever;
Thou dearest, thou inspirest me;
From thee I’d never sever.
I feel myself most blest and free
When in thy gentle power,
And in this tender slavery
I’d spend my latest hour.
[From pages 54 and 55]
Omar
(Draws a pacquet of papers out of his bosom)
Mark this mighty mass of papers —
Bills of tailors, butchers, bakers,
Pastry cooks and mantau-makers, —
All these papers now are mine.
Fatima
Ah, thou givest me the vapours!
Will our fate then never brighten, —
Seek no more my soul to frighten,
Saying all these bills are thine.
[From pages 61, 62 and 63]
Fatima
I seek and seek the room all over.
Where, where is the provoking key?
Abu Hassan
Who knows but that some hidden lover
May here in snug concealment be!
Omar
(Appearing at the grated opening over the door)
Oh dear! now will he soon discover
That I am here, then woe to me!
Abu Hassan
Yes, were I e’er so cold of spirit
Yet would I feel suspicion here.
Fatima
Trust me, your doubts I do not merit.
I feel a conscience pure and clear.
Omar
Oh dear! — I’ve lost all heart and spirit;
My knees together knock through fear.
Fatima and Abu Hassan
The rogue is now with terror quaking
And sees of hope no flutt’ring ray.
He’ll never here again come raking
If he this once can get away.
Omar
My limbs are all with terror quaking;
I see of hope no flutt’ring ray;
Oh Allah! I give up all raking, —
Let me but this once get away.
Abu Hassan
In yonder closet
There is a rival.
From me concealed;
Give me the key then
That I may seize him,
That I may squeeze him
Soon as his cowardly
Face is revealed.
Fatima
( after a pause)
Sudden reflection
Is in my bosom
Just now awak’d.
You have the key, love,
From out the key hole
With you, I’ll wager,
Taken away.
Abu Hassan
If thou dost linger
I will break open
Bar, bolt and door.
Fatima
Every corner
Have I examin’d,
But the vile key, dear,
On word and honour
Can I —