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 his
breast_) 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 beholding
the miniature; Kalaf puts him aside, and gazes
on it for some time in silence._)

Ye