Lyrics: Joan Cross/Anne Wood/Gottlieb Stephanie/Hugh Mills
Music: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
(Osmin is sitting on a garden divan, with a low table in front of him laden with fruit and sweetmeats. Blonda stands fanning him.)
OSMIN: Tra-la-le-ra. Tra-la-le-ra. Why are these grapes not cooled? Why have you not peeled them?
BLONDA: You! Will you never stop grumbling and bullying?
OSMIN: Ha, ha, ha!
BLONDA: Oh! Leave me alone!
OSMIN: I’ll do what I like.
BLONDA: Not with me, you won’t.
OSMIN: You seem to forget that you’re in Turkey now and I’m your master.
BLONDA: Oh, nonsense!
OSMIN: But it isn’t nonsense – the Pasha gave you to me!
BLONDA (withering): ‘Gave’ me to you? What do you think I am? A box of Turkish Delight?
OSMIN: He gave you to me. Don’t you understand? You’re my slave!
BLONDA: Well, you’d better not treat me like one. You’ll get nothing out of me by barking commands.