SCENE.— Street in Peking. ( Enter KALAF and BARAK.)
KALAF.
None know my name in Peking's busy town,
Your trusty tongue's as secret as my own;
E'en to your wife I hope you've not revealed—
BARAK.
From her especially the truth's concealed.
KALAF.
For many years, as dead I've been, given o'er.
No mortal here has seen my face before.
Fear not.
BARAK.
Dear Prince, forgive me if I blame you,
I can't help dreading lest the Sphinx may name you.
You were not wise to give her this last chance;
She's so astute! She'll lead you a fine dance.
You had possession—nine points of the law,
Why should you for her meagrims care one straw?
KALAF.
Oh, had you seen her grief.
BARAK.
I needs must smile
To think the tears of this sly crocodile
Should take you in!
KAL.
Perhaps my tender love
Her heart to mutual tenderness may move.
BAR.
No gratitude you'll get from that proud snake.
KAL.
Revile her not!
BAR.
I for your safety quake.
She's quite as cunning as she's fierce.
Her eyes can even through a millstone pierce.
KAL.
Nay, hope the best. My lucky stars preside,
They'll crown me victor of my lovely bride.
BAR.
You're just the same dear, sanguine, thoughtless boy
As ever. I can't bear to spoil your joy.
( Enter BRIGHELLA, marching backwards, commanding a few
Chinese guards; PANT. and TART.)
BRIG.
Halt! Pigtails, right! Attention! Royal Black Guards!
( aside.) How I do hate this dangerous marching backwards!
PANT.
Oh, here he is! At last we've caught our bird.
Prince, how d'ye do! Allow me just one word.
But who's this man? ( points to BARAK.)
Of what has he been talking?
BAR. ( aside.)
I hope they don't suspect—( aloud.) As I was walking,
This man accosted me (I do not know him),
He asked if I his way would kindly show him.
PANT.
Great Prince, you're compassed round about with traps.
If we don't keep you in our eye—perhaps
The Sphinx may have you murdered. To prevent
Unpleasant little accidents we're sent
By his celestial Majesty, to take you
In our safe custody. We'll not forsake you.
( to BARAK.) And you're her spy, I do believe; get out!
And mind your own affairs, Sir Pry-about.
( to KALAF.) As Minister, I hope I may make bold
To say "Sweet Prince, take care you are not sold."
Pray whisper not your name to any one
Except to me, your friend. I'll blab to none.
On my discretion you may safe repose,
Confide in me; your name I'll not disclose.
No more than I would jump right o'er the moon.
KAL.
No doubt; but yet my name, good Pantaloon,
Like yours, must be quite "inexpressible."
PANT.
My wish to please is irrepressible.
Command me, pray. Henceforth I will be dumb.
The watchword is,—I understand you,—"Mum!"
TART.
G-go-ood Pr-prince, d-don't m-mi-mind th-that st-stu-pid P-pa-pantaioon,
H-he's n-nothing b-but a g-go-gossipping B-buff-ffoon.
C-co-conf-fi-fide in m-me. Your s-se-secret I won't u-u-ut-ter,
I-in f-f-fact I c-ca- can't, 'c-ca-cause of my d-de-deuced s-st-stutter.
PANT.
Your Highness! to the palace, if you please.
( Signs to BRIGHELLA.)
BRIG.
Recover, Pigtails! Black Guards, stand at ease!
( Exeunt KALAF, PANT., and TART., Guards and BRIGHELLA.)
BARAK, ( who has been watching in the background, comes forward ).
Ye Tartar deities, watch o'er his life!
Good gracious, what can hither bring my wife?
( Enter SKIRINA.)
Where art thou going, wife, in such a hurry?
SKIR.
Oh, dearest husband, I'm all in a flurry.
Our handsome guest will be Chang's future
Who'd have believed such an astounding thing?
The Princess Turandot is in despair;
She weeps, she wrings her hands, she tears her hair.
She'll kill herself if she can't tell to-morrow
The name of your young friend. To calm her sorrow,
I bade her not torment herself, for you
Knew all about him, and his father too.
BAR.
Unhappy woman, thou hast ruined us!
SKIR.
Why, what harm's done? Why make you such a fuss?
BAR.
My head will have to answer for thy tongue.
SKIR.
Oh, nonsense, dear; I'm sure I've done no wrong.
( Enter TRUFFALDIN and slaves.)
BAR.
Behold what thou hast done, thou Chatterbox.
(TRUFFALDIN, with pompous exaggerated ferocity, holds his sabre to BARAK's breast.)
TRUF.
Make no resistance! Yield thee, sly old fox!
SKIR.
Have mercy, Truffaldin,—my husband spare!
TRUF.
Of his bald head I'll not disturb one hair.
Good female, you're of the fem'nine gender,
And therefore towards your weakness my heart's tender.
Your husband shall not come to any harm,
So pray don't needlessly yourself alarm.
The highest honour is in store for him,
Free entrance's offered to our Hareem.
BAR.
The gilded trap of the fair Serpent-Sphinx.
She's found me out; she's eyes like any lynx.
There's no escape.
TRUF. ( flourishing his sabre ).
Lead on, my free-born slaves,
To where the flag of slavedom freely waves.
( Exeunt BARAK, TRUF. menacing him, and slaves.)
SKIR.
Forgive me, husband dear. Adieu, adieu!
Oh dear, oh dear, what ever shall I do?
Adelma urged me to my boastful prating—
She always is so very aggravating;
I'd like to drop a lump of deadly pison
In her next cup of "best strong-flavoured Hyson."
I do declare my brain's all in a fuddle—
Fo-hi, do help me out of this sad muddle!
I'll sacrifice another guinea-pig,
For mortals, then, I needn't care one fig. ( Exit.)
SCENE II.— A vestibule in TURANDOT's Hareem. BARAK is fastened to one of its pillars, black mutes, with drawn daggers, stand on each side of him. A large porcelain dish, fitted with golden coins is on a table near him. TURANDOT stands before him in a threatening attitude. (ADELMA beside her.)
TUR.
Yet hast thou time. Obey my royal pleasure,
And thine shall be this pile of golden treasure.
If not, my slaves shall pierce thy heart. His name
Reveal at once; his parentage proclaim.
BAR.
Your threats are vain; your treasures I despise.
Repent your obstinate resolve. Be wise
And learn, a woman's highest happiness
Is, by her love a worthy man to bless.
TUR.
To preach to me befits thee not. Desist.
My potent will in vain thou wouldst resist.
Seize on him, slaves, and do your work. Forbear
Awhile. Reflect, and save thy life. I swear
By Fo-hi's face, no harm shall touch thy friend
Nor thee, if thou consent to serve my end.
BAR.
Your path's deceitful. Swear by Fo-hi's might
My friend shall call you his e'er morrow's night.
You hesitate—you dare not swear a lie
Before the sacred face of great Fo-hi.
ADELMA.
Presumptuous wretch, dar'st thou our queen defy?
Princess, demur no longer; let him die.
(SKIRINA rushes in. )
SKIR.
Hold, Princess; hold; your father is at hand!
( aside.) My knees are knocking; I can hardly stand.
ADELMA.
Unlucky chance! To prison with this fellow!
SKIR.
Adelma, hush; you needn't bawl and bellow.
TUR.
In deepest dungeon let him be confin'd.
BAR.
My body you may shackle; not my mind.
SKIR. ( aside to BARAK.)
Take courage, husband; do not fear their spite;
The pig will save us yet; I tell you it's all right.
( Mutes hastily conduct BARAK through a secret door; others
remove the dish of gold.)
TUR.
Adelma, thou'rt my only friend. Advise
My mind distraught 'twixt love and hate. Despise
Me not, but pity me. Some counsel lend.
ADEL.
As force has failed, by craft we'll gain our end.
I have a plan,—I'm sure of its success,
If to the stranger's cell we gain access.
TUR.
Take gold—suborn his guards—the highest meed
I hold as nought if thy new scheme succeed.
ADEL.
Skirina's help I need to work my plot.
SKIR.
I'd let myself be skinned for Turandot.
I wish my service could my husband save.
TUR.
His life be thy reward, thou faithful slave.
(SKIRINA kisses Turandot's hand.)
ADEL.
Your royal father comes. In me confide.
( aside.) Assist me, love, to quell her haughty pride.
( Exeunt ADELMA and SKIRINA.)
TUR.
What will Adelma's fertile brain devise?
( after a pause.) In vain the truth I'd hide from mine own eyes;
My heart is his—irrevocably his.
To be his wife—oh rapture, heavenly bliss!
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.