say, oh no! oh no! oh no! (Aloud.) "Any person of royal
descent may sue for the hand of our daughter, Empress
Turandot, on the following conditions:-The Princess shall
propound three riddles to any suitor proposing himself as her
husband; should he be unable to unravel them, his head shall
be struck off with an axe, and exposed on the city-gate of Peking;
should he unravel them, the Empress Turandot shall become
his lawful bride, and together they shall inherit the throne of
the celestial empire. We swear it by our ancestor, the sun."
ALT. (placing his hands on the book)-
This law, tho' it cause tears and blood to flow,
I've sworn to keep, alas! it must be so.
TUR. (rises and declaims)-
A tree on which men grow and fade;
Old as the world, yet ever new;
Its leaves, on one side, live in shade,
On th' other bears the sun's bright show.
Each time it blooms a ring it wears,
It tells the age of each event.
Upon its bark men's names it bears,
Forgotten e'er its life be spent.
What is this tree, so young, so old,
So sunny warm, so icy cold?
KALAF. (ponders awhile, then bows to the Princess)-
Too happy is your slave, divine Princess,
If nothing harder he may have to guess;
This ancient tree which ever buds anew,
Which sun and shade, man's age and deeds doth shew,
It is "a year," revolving day and night.
PANT. (joyfully.)
Shake hands, Tartaglia, I'm quite sure he's right!
TART.
A-a-as-ass-tounding! Sono contentissimo!
DOCTORS (having opened the papers).
Eureka! Optime! Optissimo!
(Flourish of gongs and cymbals.)
ALT. (graciously.)
Fo-hi protects thee, son; He'll save thy life.
ADELMA (aside.)
Ye gods, let not my rival be his wife,
Though I rejoice her vanity is vext.
SKIR.
I hope he'll be as clever at the next!
TUR.
Shall he outwit me? No, by sun and moon;
(to KALAF.) Your joy's precocious-triumph not too soon.
(Rises and declaims)-
Canst thou the fragile mirror name,
Reflecting all creation on its limpid face;
'Tis closed within a narrow frame,
Yet compasses high heav'n's blue vault of endless space.
This crystal is of priceless worth,
But yet the poor possess it, nor possession pay;
It is the brightest gem on earth,
It gives and yet receives its heaven-born brilliant ray.
What is this mirror bright and clear,
Free given to all, to all so dear?
KALAF (ponders, then bows to the Princess).
Your mystery's not hard to penetrate;
The mirror you describe so small, so great,
So priceless, so benign, "the eye" must be,
A heaven 'twill show if thine speak love to me.
PANT. (embraces TART.)
He's shot the bull's-eye through the very middle.
SKIR.
I never knew his equal at a riddle.
DOCTORS (having opened the papers).
Eureka! Optime! Optissimo!
(Flourish of gongs and cymbals.)
TART.
Bravo-o-o! Bravissimo! Benissimo!
ALT.
I give you joy; you are a clever fellow!
PANT.
Our Chinese Sphinx with rage is turning yellow.
ADELMA.
In vain the Fates themselves would seek to foil me;
My rival shall not of my love despoil me.
SKIR.
I wish to Fo-hi all was fairly over!
ADEL. (to Turandot.)
If you be mocked by this conceited lover,
Your former victories will naught avail;
Your honour's lost if this pert fop prevail.
TUR.
The world shall perish first! Exultant fool!
My hate increases with thy hope to rule.
Escape my wrath whilst yet thy life is free,
My vengeance dread, and from the contest flee.
KAL.
Your hate alone, adored Princess, can move
My soul. If vainly I implore your love,
Then let me die; my life I do not prize
If loathsome I appear in your sweet eyes.
ALT.
Hear reason, Prince, nor longer tempt the gods.
Throw up the game,-too fearful are the odds.
With honour canst thou quit this high divan,
For thou'st done more than any other man.
Yet two successes serve not, though they're glorious,
Unless for the third time thou be victorious.
And thou, my domineering, wilful child,
Wilt not relent towards this youth? Be mild,
And graciously accept his suit.
TUR.
Relent!
I scorn his love,-his pity I resent.
The law prescribes three trials. Let's proceed,
And try if in the third he may succeed.
KAL.
The gods decide! "Or death or Turandot!"
TUR. (angrily.) Death-death will be your well-deserved lot.
PANT.
Keep silence in the court! Ahem! ahem!
(aside) Now for some crackjaw, mystic apophthegm.
TUR. (rises and declaims)-
What is that thing, held cheap as dust,
Yet honor'd by the Emperor's hand?
'Tis made to pierce, with sword's keen thrust,
But sheds no blood, tho' wounds like sand,
In number deep inflicts; robs none;
Enriches thousands; rules the earth;
Makes life with ease and smoothness run;
Has founded kingdoms; ended dearth;
Most ancient cities it has built,
But ne'er caused war, nor war's sad guilt.
Answer my question (unveils). Look me in the face,
Avow you're vanquished and deserve disgrace.
KAL. (gazes on her with rapture.)
Refulgent loveliness! Ecstatic bliss!
PANT, (shaking him.)
Collect your senses! Don't take on like this!
ALT.
Alas, I fear his intellect is puzzled;
He's mute,-his tongue seems tied,-his lips tight muzzled.
PANT.
Were't not for dignity, into the kitchen,
I'd rush a glass of something short to fetch 'un.
TUR. (who has returned KALAF'S. fixed gaze)-
Unhappy wretch! thou'rt silent; thou must die.
KAL. (recovers himself, and bows to TURANDOT with extreme composure)-
'Twas but your beauty dazed my wondering eye.
My mind can grasp the meaning of the Sphinx,
Tho' it's as puzzling as the "Babe of Ginx."
The iron thing which wounds yet sheds no blood;
That rules the earth, and gives man wealth and food;
On which each year the Khan doth place his hand,
To typify his reign o'er China's land;
In short, the instrument your riddle mentions
Is one of mankind's earliest inventions.
If I mistake not, Hm-ha-Let me see!
"The plough" is meant by Riddle Number three.
DOCTORS (having opened the papers).
Eureka! Optime! Optissimo!
(Flourish of gongs and cymbals.)