, 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._)

KAL.

Good night, and thanks; your hint I comprehend.
Will treachery be used my life to end?
Nay, Turandot's too noble--I'll not fear.
The fateful hour approaches (_opens a casement_.)
Dawn is near,
I'll seek to drown my care in dreamy rest.

(_As he sinks on the couch, a secret door opens, admitting_ SKIRINA
_dressed in male attire, a false beard on_.)

SKIR.

My lord.

KALAF. (_starting up_.) What man is this? Some silly jest.

SKIR.

What, don't you know Skirina? (_takes off the beard_.)
I'm so frightened!
Disguised I've passed your guards, in these clothes tightened.
I've got so much to tell. Your poor old tutor
Is put in chains! Yes, nothing less would suit her.
He's anxious for your life--he begs you'll sign
Your name to show you're safe; just write one line
To pacify him; or he'll all declare;
The Princess Turandot's in such a flare.
I tremble for my husband,--he's demented,
Until you've kindly to his wish consented.
I've brou