PEHR. No!

BRIDE. You love your Lisa?

PEHR. And you your--

BRIDE. Ali.

PEHR. O misery and lamentation!

BRIDE. Calm yourself a moment--One moment, while they come in and
congratulate us. The bridal procession is waiting without. Silence!
They are nearing; stand at my side!

PEHR. Must I go forth again, and jest?

BRIDE. Obey me, for I'm a wise woman! When they go I shall tell you
my plan. Here they come! Look pleasant, husband, else they will say
that I made you unhappy.

PEHR. Dear old father, how right you were! Black is black and can
never be white. [Pehr and bride seat themselves on divan and assume
a sentimental attitude.]

[Enter Singers, Dancers, Chamberlain, Ameer, Royal Historian,
Vizier.]

_Chorus of women sing_:
Joyous the loving hearts
That bleed from cupid's darts!