Chapter 12

Chamber in the harem.

TURANDOT, ZELIMA. _Afterwards_ ADELMA.

TURANDOT.

I cannot bear to think of it, Zelima; I cannot bear the thought of my disgrace.

ZELIMA.

I cannot think you mean it, mistress mine. A young prince, noble, handsome, so enamoured, And you so full of hatred and disgust?

TURANDOT.

Torture me not. That is the very reason... I am ashamed to say that it is so.... But there are other feelings strange to me.... I seem to shiver both with heat and frost.... No, no, I hate him, I am sure, Zelima-- Hate him for making me a laughing-stock Before the whole Divan--nay, the whole world! How they will laugh at me! Help me, Zelima! Come to my help! How did his riddle run: "Who is that Prince and of what stock is he, Who was a beggar, porter, menial, Yet in good fortune more unfortunate?" So much is clear that he himself is meant. But how in all the world am I to guess His and his father's names? Here no one knows him. The Emperor himself has granted him For the time being still to be unknown. Only to save time did I take the odds. What shall I do now? I am helpless, helpless!

ZELIMA.

How would it do to ask a fortune-teller?

TURANDOT.

A fortune-teller?

ZELIMA.

No, that would not do. But think, how genuine his pain, his sighs! And how he cast himself at your father's feet To plead for you!

TURANDOT.

Enough of this--enough! I said, indeed... my heart... believe it not. It is not true. I hate him. For I know They all are treacherous: pretending love Until they have the maiden in their toils; But when they have their will, they laugh at us, Dallying with now this woman and now that; Nor is there any slave too base for them, Nor any harlot at too low a price. Zelima, speak no more of him. If he To-morrow is victorious again, Oh, I shall hate him worse than death.

ZELIMA.

Dear mistress, So long as you are young and beautiful, Rebellion beseems you. But when age Comes creeping on, and wooers stay away, What will be yours beside too late regret?... What would you lose now save a little pride, The phantom of your fame?...

ADELMA.

(_Has slowly come nearer, and now interrupts her._)

They that are base In birth may, it is true, so basely think As thou, Zelima. How couldst thou conceive The feelings of our noble mistress, when After so many years with triumph crowned, A stranger roving here from who knows where Puts her to shame in public? How shouldst thou Know anything of pride and pain and shame? Thou didst not see the looks of mockery, The slanted smile round every mouth. I saw it, Saw it and shook with rage and shame for her. I love her. And shall I stand and see her now, Against the promptings of her heart and will, Delivered up into a stranger's hands?

TURANDOT (_vehemently_).

Stop! Do not make me mad beyond control!

ZELIMA.

Delivered up? Is it so bad as that?

ADELMA.

Be silent, thou! Thou pretty little slave, Thou hast no need to understand these things. What matters it to thee if, heedlessly, She pledged her word? And what shall come to pass In the Divan to-morrow if in shame She hold her tongue? I can already see The mockery scarcely hid, the open scorn, And the base wit, such wit as is the meed Of a poor actress.

TURANDOT (_beside herself_).

Hold your tongue, Adelma! Unless I know the names before to-morrow, I shall have nothing save this dagger....

ADELMA.

Do not despair, Princess. By taking thought-- Or, if it must be so, by trickery-- We yet will find the names.

ZELIMA.

Oh, find the names, Dear, wise Adelma....

TURANDOT.

I must know the names, Adelma. His name, and his father's name. How shall I find them out? Adelma, help me!

ADELMA.

One thing I know: to-day in the Divan Himself betrayed it: in this city lives _One_ man who knows his name and origin. Now what behoves us is to ferret through The town, and if we make no stint of gold Haply we may discover what we seek.

TURANDOT.

Take anything--gold, gems--do what you will.

ZELIMA.

What can she do with gold or precious stones? Whom shall she give them to, to purchase help? And if the plan succeed, what will you do If some one find your mesh of trickery?

ADELMA.

Who would betray the trick--if not Zelima?

ZELIMA (_flaring up_).

Shame on your venomous tongue! Princess, hear _me_: Cast not your gold away. I had indeed Hoped to appease, convince you in the end, Hoped you would give the Prince your hand--the Prince Who loves you, and well is worthy of your love. Now I will be obedient. My old mother, Skirina, came to visit me just now. Rejoicing at the fortune of the Prince, And knowing nothing of the imminent Encounter which to-morrow shall decide, She told me she had spoken to the stranger The night before, and said that my step-father, Old Hassan, knows him. There and then I asked What might his name be, but she did not know, Or swore she did not. Hassan, so she said, Would not betray his name for any price. This notwithstanding, she has promised me To do her best to worm the secret out. Now, Princess, doubt my zeal, if still you can.

(_Exit in excitement._)

TURANDOT.

Come, to my arms! Why does she run away?

ADELMA.

Let the fool go. Now we have got the scent, And let us with swift cunning track the game. But come with me straightway and let me tell you The plan I have. Put all your trust in me.

TURANDOT.

Adelma, I put all my trust in you. But save me from this stranger whom I loathe.

(_Exeunt both._)