ick, and of your secret make a clearance.
Clear up the matter, and I'll then clear out;
My time is precious. Finish off this bout.

KAL.

One thing thou hast forgotten.

TRUF.

What have I?

KAL.

To imprecate thy bones to Fo-bi's pie.
Return to Turandot. Tell her from me
She'll glorious shine in high divan, if she
Benignant prove herself; more true distinction
She'll gain by this, than by my hope's extinction.

(_Signs to_ TRUF. _to withdraw._)

TRUF. (_aside_.)

I've only got my trouble for my pain;
I'll never do a kindly act again. (_Exit_.)

KAL.

Come, gentle sleep. Refresh me, balm divine!
Take courage, weary soul, success may yet be mine.

(_Retires to the couch, and sinks; into slumber._ _Enter_ ADELMA,
_veiled, bearing a lighted taper_.)

ADEL.

I shall not fail. In vain was their endeavour,
But I will venture all, the knot to sever.
I may not learn his name,--but I'll implore
His flight from Peking. Then my love, once more
May hope to win his heart.

(_Unveils, and gazes upon him._)

He gently slumbers:
Reluctantly I rouse him, but time numbers
The hours yet left for action. Prince, arise!

KAL.

Who calls? Another spirit! Do my eyes
Deceive me? Can it be? Adelma here?
Thy royal person in a slave's mean gear!
Such lowly garb is surely some disguise.

ADEL.

No, Prince; Adelma now in slav'ry sighs.
Beneath the galling yoke of her who martyred
My wretched brother, and my father slaughtered.
Not you alone must suffer from the curse
Of Turandot's fell ire; my fate's far worse.

KAL.

Princess, believe me; more your lot I mourn
Than e'en my own. So fair, so nobly born,
So gracious to th' unhappy;--I can ne'er
Forget your kindness to myself. If e'er
In need of faithful service you may stand,
Which I may render in return, command
Me as your slave. My gratitude's eternal.

ADEL.

From Turandot I'd save you. Her infernal
Devices throw a glamour o'er your senses:
But did you know her shallow, false pretences,
Of her great excellence you'd scorn the notion,
Nor waste on her your noble heart's devotion.
For all she sets up as a learned Sphinx,
She's nothing but a sly, conceited minx.

KAL.

Nay, blame not her, but adverse destiny,
Your brother willed his death; the choice was free.
Your father fell in battle--'twas ill-fate
Awarded death, not she. Oh, do not hate
Your mistress; surely she your worth esteems
And treats you as your gentle birth bese