Turandot: The Chinese Sphinx. Friedrich von Schiller

to soften,

      Has often sternly threatened – coaxed as often;

      Used prayers for such a monarch infra dig—

      But all in vain; she's headstrong as a pig.

      At length she said she'd make a compromise,

      The Khan consented – (he's not over-wise!)

      His artful daughter wheedled him to swear,

      By great Fo-hi, that she should never wear

      The hateful Hymeneal yoke, unless

      Some suitor for her hand should rightly guess

      Three difficult conundrums by herself composed:

      But if the man who for her hand proposed

      Should fail to solve her problems – then his pate

      Should be struck off, and grace the city-gate.

KALAF

      Why, what a tigress must this Princess be!

      I never heard such cruelty – Bless me!

BARAK

      Already kings and princes by the dozen

      She's managed by her subtlety to cozen;

      For she's so clever that she always diddles

      The keenest wits by her confounding riddles.

KALAF

      As wife, decidedly I should decline her,

      She's made of dragon-pattern stony China.

      What fools her suitors are, their hearts to fix on

      So termagant and bloodthirsty a vixen!

BARAK

      So fascinating is she, none withstand her,

      All men for her do nothing but philander.

      Behold on yonder gate the ghastly row

      Of livid heads set up in dismal show.

      All these belonged to men who dared to hope

      With Turandot in subtlety to cope.

      To-day a prince is led to execution,

      Who failed to give her riddles due solution.

      That is the reason of the noise you hear,

      Pray go not to the town.

KALAF

      What should I fear?

BARAK

      The bloody spectacle your nerves might shake;

      The severed head is fastened to a stake.

      (Gong sounds within the city watts.)

      But hark! yon tantan's loud infernal dinning,

      Tells that the tragedy is now beginning.

KALAF

      A monster like this princess should be strangled,

      Her body by wild horses torn and mangled.

BARAK

      To all she is not cruelly inclined,

      'Tis Man she hates; to women she's most kind.

      Within her royal hareem serves my wife,

      And with her mistress leads a happy life.

      The only fault of Turandot is pride, —

      Her many virtues cannot be denied.

KALAF

      Who comes this way?

BARAK

      'Tis Ishmael, the friend

      Of him who just has met his tragic end.

      Enter ISHMAEL, weeping.

ISH

      His life is o'er! Ah, would the cruel knife

      Had struck my worthless self, and spared his life.

BARAK

      Bear up, good friend, I pity you sincerely,

      Your master for his love has paid too dearly.

      Why did you not dissuade him from the trial —

ISH

      My prayers he met with kind, but firm denial.

      His dying words still echo in mine ear —

      "Good friend," he said, "to die I do not fear;

      My life's a blank if without her I live.

      Speed to my father, – beg him to forgive

      His hapless son, who staked his life on one

      Whose face is fair, whose heart is cold as stone.

      Shew him this portrait: (takes a miniature from hisbreast) when its charms he views,

      My frenzied love, my rashness he'll excuse."

      This said, he clasped the portrait to his breast,

      Fond kisses on its icy beauty pressed;

      Then bent his head, and closed his eyes,

      The death blow fell, and sent him to the skies.

      (Dashes the portrait to the ground.)

      Away, thou false deceit! thou cause of woe,

      Th' original I'd trample even so.

      To dust I'd grind her tiger heart; – her soul,

      I'd send to Eblis' region dark and foul! (Exit.)

BARAK

      Are you convinced?

KALAF

      I'm perfectly amazed.

      How can a painted semblance thus have crazed

      So sensible a prince? (Stoops to pick it up.)

BARAK

      For heaven's sake,

      Avoid that picture as you would a snake.

      KALAF (smiling).

      No harm will happen, dear old tutor, sure

      From picking up a picture from the floor.

      No woman yet has caused my heart to throb, —

      Shall painted lines my soul of freedom rob?

      (Barak endeavours to prevent Kalaffrom beholdingthe miniature; Kalaf puts him aside, and gazeson it for some time in silence.)

      Ye gods! an angel's face. Oh ecstacy!

BARAK

      Now, there; he's caught. I knew how it would be!

KALAF

      Beneath this beaming smile, these lustrous eyes,

      There cannot lurk a cruel heart of ice.

BARAK

      I tell you she's the wickedest of creatures;

      Oh, gaze not on the Syren's fatal features,

      More baneful than the Gorgon head, Medusa.

KALAF

      Hush, hush, I will not hear you thus abuse her,

      I never saw a face and form diviner;

      Her's is not mortal clay, but porcelain China,

      Some magic power, some demon, I know not,

      Enchains my soul to beauteous Turandot.

      (Gazes enraptured on the miniature.)

      These eyes to meet, these rosy lips to kiss,

      Who would not hazard all to win such bliss?

      My senses reel, my veins are