Yet I must spurn his love. I will not bear
All China's cold contempt; man's scoffing sneer.
What glory would be mine could I but tame
This bragging conqueror. Pronounce his name
In high divan, and chase him from our city,
Abashed and in despair. But yet, with pity
My heart would surely break. Come, virgin pride
And woman's art my shame and grief to hide.
To-day, proud man has made me bear disgrace;
To-morrow I must triumph o'er his race.
But yet-he did not boastfully rejoice-
Rebuke I welcomed from his gentle voice.
How humble was his suit-how mild and good,
How unresentful towards my scornful mood.
Avaunt, ye tender phantasies, avaunt!
I dread the world's disdain-its scoffing taunt.
My people shall not see Turandot fall,
The slave of one means abject slave to all.
(Enter ALTOUM, perusing a scroll; PANT, and TART, following at
some distance.)
ALT. (to himself.)
The Bey of Tefflis dead? So ends this tyrant!
PANT. (aside to TART.)
What makes his Majesty indulge in high rant?
ALT. (as above.)
Prince Kalaf, heir to Tartary's high throne,
Is called to fill the Bey's, besides his own.
This scroll informs me Kalaf is the stranger
Who overthrew the Sphinx and 'scaped her danger.
I'm glad to find the Prince is no bad catch,-
My daughter's will be quite a splendid match.
PANT. (to TART.)
What is he muttering all to himself,
Just like a miser counting o'er his pelf?
I do believe he's talking in blank verse,
Or reasoning in rhyme, which would be worse.
He's deaf; if he were blind, 't would suit us better,
For then he couldn't read his private letter.
TART. (to PANT.)
A s-sp-special Es-taf-fette! Ci cova gatto!
S-such m-my-mystery! Capisco niente affatto.
(ALT. places the scroll in his breast, and signs to PANT. and
TART. to withdraw, which they do with reluctance.)
ALT.
My child, the night is far advanced; yet still
Thy restless steps pace through thy hareem chill.
Quite hopeless is thy task; not all the College
Of Doctors could impart the wished-for knowledge.
Thou canst not guess thy 'pponent's name, tho' we
Have fully learned his family history.
He's worthy of thy hand; my wish obey,
Avoid to-morrow's public exposée.
Thou'rt sure to fail. For my sake save thy fame,
My soul recoils from witnessing thy shame.
TUR.
I shall not put my father to the blush;
My adversary's arrogance I'll crush.
ALT.
Ah, flatter not thyself. Let one defeat
Suffice; do not the painful scene repeat.
TUR.
The high divan shall judge. Firm as a rock
Is my strong will. His easy task I mock.
ALT.
Has thy keen wit discovered-tell me truth-
The secret of this overtrusting youth?
If so, be gen'rous; let him go in peace;
From further strife and public struggle cease.
Deal gently with this boy of noble race,
Nor wantonly expose him to disgrace.
Thus shalt thou earn all Chang's high admiration.
Thy harsh decree has much estranged the nation.
They tell strange tales about the Chinese Sphinx,
Men's skulls she gnaws-hot human blood she drinks.
Oh, show thyself as modest, tender, duteous,-
More homage this commands than being beauteous.
TUR.
Your mercy, Sire, beseems your hoary age;
Your words might well convert a Grecian sage,
But cannot change my purpose. I'll not bow
My neck to any man: so runs my vow.
In public this pert boy my power defeated,-
In public shall my vengeance be completed.
ALT.
Dear child, paternal love shall condescend
To humbly beg obedience. Do but bend
To my desire, and thou shalt from me learn
The whole of what this stranger may concern.
In public thou shalt triumph-name aloud
Thy foe, in face of an applauding crowd.
But swear, if thus I'm traitor for thy sake
Thou wilt this suitor for thy husband take.
Thy deed will bless thine aged father's days-
Reward a loving heart-win all men's praise.
TUR. (who has listened with increasing emotion)-
His words are torture to my wav'ring pride,
How shall I act? How may I best decide?
Adelma shall I trust? Her plot may fail;
Without disgrace a father may prevail.
Down, stubborn soul (advances towards ALT., then
hesitates), and yet, beneath Man's yoke
To crouch? No, no, my vow I'll not revoke.
ALT.
Thou'rt touched. Sweet daughter, grant my fond desire.
TUR.
He fears I may succeed and thwart him. Sire,
I'll meet in high divan. My will is steady.
ALT.
Then, if thou fail, the altar shall be ready;
The rite shall be performed with solemn fitness,
While vulgar crowds shall thy confusion witness.
Their scoffing jeers shall be thy wedding hymn;
Thy father stooped in vain; now stoop to him. (Exit.)
TUR.
Oh, murder not your child! Adelma, friend,-
Forsake me not. My grief some comfort send;
My only hope's in thee. If great Fo-hi
Withhold success, to-morrow sees me die. (Exit.)
END OF ACT. III.
ACT IV.
SCENE.-A magnificent apartment, with divers outlets; in the
background an oriental couch. The scene is dark. KALAF discovered
pacing up and down, BRIGHELLA holding a torch, observing him,
and shaking his head.
BRIG.
Just three o'clock! by Kong's pagoda-chimes.
You've paced this floor just twice three hundred times.
Your Highness had much better go to sleep.
You'll have to rise with dawn's first ruddy peep.
I can't watch any more; my eyelids close.
KALAF. Thou'rt right, Brighella; go to thy repose.
(BRIG. going, returns cautiously.)
BRIG.
One word, your Highness,-when I've left my post,
Don't be astonished if you see a ghost.
You understand? You needn't be afraid;
I daren't say more; my silence is prepaid.
Forewarned, forearmed, you know. To a blind horse
A nod's as good as twenty winks, of course.
KALAF. (looking about, uneasily.)
What spectres shall I see? what dreary sprite?
BRIG.
Oh, nothing, (yawns.) I'm so sleepy, Prince, good night.
(Going, returns.)
I hope you are not angry with Brighella-
I'm but a poor, ill-paid, hardworking fellah-
The Emperor has ordered that no fly
Shall enter this apartment-you know why;
But tho' he's king, his daughter really rules.
It's hard to keep one's balance 'twixt two stools!
And what a woman wills, for good or evil.
That must be done, or she will play the devil.
(Going, returns.)
Mind, I know nothing. Keyholes may suffice;
If any noise you hear, it's only mice!
(Exit, winking significantly.)