s 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 _exposee_.
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
Suffic