ACT THIRD
[[2]]Scene I: An anteroom in the harem. Night.
In the centre of the columned room is a table, on which—softly illumined—stands a large crystal bowl, filled with swimming gold fishes.
Nearby, Turandot sits weeping, Zelima beside her. Outside, the shrill voice of Punchinello is heard singing to the twang of stringed instruments:
O Lady, Lady, let fall your tears
No more, no more, for foolish fears,
But let in your true playfellow;
For Sorrow’s a thief
Brings Love to grief,
But a merry heart makes him mellow,
And a merry heart, O, a merry heart
Never yet kept fond lovers apart,
Nor pinched the shoe of their Punchinello.
TURANDOT
[Savagely]
Drive them away, Zelima! Drive them away!
PUNCHINELLO, SCARAMOUCHE, AND PANTALOON
[Singing together outside]
And a merry heart, O, a merry heart
Never yet kept fond lovers apart!
ZELIMA
[Going to the door, puts her head out]
Begone!
[She returns to Turandot. The twanging outside decreases, but still continues]
Take courage, Lady.
TURANDOT
Oh, I have lost
Courage and faith and kindness. All is dark—
Dark and disgrace.
ZELIMA
’Tis no disgrace to win
A husband.
TURANDOT
Win him!—To be tricked and sold
In slavery to one I love not—lose
The one I love, and truckle to the word
Of an upstart—a false, masquing popinjay
Of an emperor!—Yet, no disgrace! Ah me,
Why did your little dagger fail me? Now
I have no pluck of soul to try once more.
ZELIMA
The gods forbid! ’Twere very wicked, Lady:
And him, that saved you, and gave back your freedom
So gentlemanly!
TURANDOT
Ha! and caught me again
With his own riddle! Heaven, I hate him. Yet—
Zelima, did you see his eyes?
ZELIMA
[Nodding]
Most strangelike
They were.
TURANDOT
I must not think upon his eyes,
Or I might hate him less. No, only one
Of all men wears the gazes which I love,
And he is lost to me.
ZELIMA
Why lost, my Lady?
The emperor promised you to search the city
And find your beggar.
TURANDOT
Capo’s promises
Are like himself—all lies. Nay, I must answer
This false Khan’s riddle, or be doomed to-morrow.
But how?—“His true-born name, his father’s fame—”
Where shall I find the clue? Ah, heartless fate
And stony hearted men!
THE VOICE OF PUNCHINELLO
[Sings outside to the instruments]
O Lady, Lady, lift up your moan
No more, no more ’gainst hearts of stone,
But let in your blithe playfellow!
TURANDOT
[Wildly]
Go! Stop them!
THE VOICE OF PUNCHINELLO
For a stubborn will
Makes Love to be ill,
But a merry heart makes him well, O!
And a merry heart—
ZELIMA
[Opening the door]
Stop
Your noises!
PUNCHINELLO
[Outside]
—O, a merry heart
Never yet kept fond lovers apart,
Nor tweaked the nose of their Punchinello.
ZELIMA
Cease! Her royal highness orders—
PUNCHINELLO, SCARAMOUCHE AND PANTALOON
[Pushing past Zelima, enter the room bearing bright Chinese lanterns, and singing in chorus]
A merry heart, O, a merry heart
Never yet kept fond lovers apart!
[Joined by Harlequin, they pause together before Turandot and, pointing simultaneously their left toes, strike sharply their instruments with a sweeping bow]
TURANDOT
What fresh presumption of your brazen lord
Is this?
PUNCHINELLO
This is our homage, Lady, Lady!
[Thrumming their instruments again,
they accompany a dance of Harlequin,
who by his pantomime indicates
to Turandot the bowl of gold fishes,
while Punchinello lilts shrilly:]
And thus our Harlequin: He’s showing
How all our hearts be overflowing
With little, lovely, golden wishes
For your delight—as fine as fishes!
TURANDOT
Go—go!
[Harlequin draws back]
Why have you come?
PUNCHINELLO
To celebrate
Our lord Sir Capo’s great discovery.
PANTALOON
[Mysteriously]
He’s found.
TURANDOT
Who’s found?
SCARAMOUCHE
[Darkly]
By the yawn of Jonah’s whale,
We have disbellied him from Pekin’s maw
And blackest hollowness.
PUNCHINELLO
He’s trapped, my Lady!
TURANDOT
[Chafing]
Will you tell who?
PUNCHINELLO
[In a loud whisper]
The beggar.
SCARAMOUCHE AND PANTALOON
[Sepulchrally]
Hush!
TURANDOT
[Faintly]
A beggar!
SCARAMOUCHE
[Speaks at her ear]
The louse-gray mongrel with the chalkish beard—
We’ve got him kennelled, ha!
TURANDOT
An old man?
PANTALOON
[Nodding]
Pickled!
TURANDOT
Alas! What are these tidings? Have you searched
Only to find an old poor man?
CAPO.
[Who has entered behind them]
They found
Your beggar’s gaffer, Lady.—Barak he
Is called, and lies imprisoned now below,
Where I will learn from him about your lover.
TURANDOT
[Bitterly]
So you come too. Have you, then, come to break
Once more the vow you made?
CAPO.
[Quietly]
A single day,
Lady, you swore me faith and loyalty;
Yet in one little hour you cast away
Your faith, to call me traitor.
TURANDOT
Had I cause,
Or no?
CAPO.
Is there good cause to break an oath?
TURANDOT
You broke your own. You vowed to achieve for me
Joy—joy, and perfect marriage with my love.—
Am I, then, joyful? Am I with my love?
CAPO.
A single day; a single day, I said!
TURANDOT
So by to-morrow I must wed this Khan,
This nameless prince—unless I guess his name.
CAPO.
Why not, then, guess it?
TURANDOT
[Glancing quickly]
How?
CAPO.
[Indulgently]
Will you renew
Your broken allegiance?
TURANDOT
I am desperate.
I will do anything to free myself.—
What shall I do?
CAPO.
First swear me faith again.
TURANDOT
I swear it. Now tell!
CAPO.
How easily ladies swear
When they are in love!—Prime-Minister, retire!
[The four Maskers, bowing, withdraw to the background, where they are entertained by Zelima, whom they instruct to play upon their instruments with a low strumming]
In the general practice of my specialties,
Lady, I often recommend for love
A sleeping-charm—like this.
[Capo takes from his sleeve a small vial and hands it to Turandot]
TURANDOT
What should I do
With this?
CAPO.
This, if ’tis poured upon the sleeping lips
Of man by a maid, or maiden by a man,
Will make the sleeper murmur in his dream
Whatever secret thing his soul conceals
When it is asked of him.
TURANDOT
[After a pause, gives a sudden cry of joy]
Ah, now I see!—
But how can I find access to this Khan
When he is sleeping?
CAPO.
I am emperor,
And by my new régime, at midnight, all
The guards retire, and in the men’s hall, men
May pass unnoticed by the others.
TURANDOT
[Searchingly]
Men?
CAPO.
[Calls, beckoning]
Here, Harlequin!—I pray you, princess, stand
Back to back with this boy.
[Turandot looks puzzled, and then turns and stands back to back with Harlequin. Capo measures their heights with his flattened hand. They separate and Capo indicates Harlequin]
A hair’s breadth higher.
[With a questioning glance at Turandot]
A hair’s breadth! Will you risk it—by a hair?
TURANDOT
[Growing suddenly radiant]
O wonderful!—At midnight, did you say?
CAPO.
[Smiling]
Now are we friends—and may I kiss your hand?
TURANDOT
[Ardently]
No, I will kiss yours!
[She seizes Capo’s hand and kisses it. He laughs softly]
Curtain
Scene II: A bedchamber, mysteriously lighted. The room is vast and magnificent. In the centre, by a divan couch, Calaf is seated in deep brooding.
CALAF
If she should guess!—If she should fail to guess!
If she should fail to guess!—If she should guess!
O endless, awful night, you are like thought—
Hollow, unanswering and full of echoes!
And like my heart you, too, are sleepless, yearning
With dim and palpitating mystery.
If she should guess?—Then would I doubly lose
My love—my life. If she should fail to guess?
Then how might I dare hold her to my bond
And wed against her will?—If she should guess—
If she should fail—Ah, God! The night gives back
Only my emptiness, and moment builds
On moment mountains of hell, and here I sit
Alone.
[Rising, he reaches his arms with a low cry]
Alone!
CAPO.
[Entering in the dimness]
There is no loneliness
Where thoughts are merry.
CALAF
[Staring at him for a moment]
Merry!—Sire, I have
Forgot the meaning of that word.
CAPO.
Recall it,
Then, quickly, for I bring you pleasant news.
CALAF
[Eagerly]
From her? from her, O Sire?
CAPO.
From Turandot.
The lady loves you.
CALAF
Loves me! You are mad,
Or jesting.
CAPO.
To the sober-serious
Jesting’s a sort of madness.—But no matter.
The lady loves you none the less.
CALAF
How is it
Possible?
CAPO.
You’ve forgot my specialty
So soon?—or am I skilled in guessing riddles?
CALAF
I should have failed without you.
CAPO.
Will you try me
Again?
CALAF
But how—
CAPO.
Come hither in more light.
[Calaf moves out of the deeper shadow. Capo tips Calaf’s face upwards, examining it]
What color are your eyes?
CALAF
I do not know.
CAPO.
[Nods approvingly]
Sapphire.—That might describe them, with some license
Of love and rhetoric.
CALAF
What have my eyes
To do with guessing riddles?
CAPO.
Much to do!
They have to close and go to sleep, before
The guessing. Softly now: lie down and close them
Until to-morrow.
CALAF
Would I might!
CAPO.
Then do so!
For on to-morrow morn, I promise you
Delight—and perfect marriage with your love.
CALAF
O friend, I am too weary to refuse.
I will lie down and dream it is to-morrow.
[He lies on the couch. A far chiming is heard]
What bell is sounding?
CAPO.
Midnight.—Merry dreams!
[Capo steals out. Calaf closes his eyes and is still. The room is silent and dim. After a few moments, out of the darkness there emerges, scarlet and pied, the Figure of Harlequin, who tiptoes toward the couch. At a sigh from Calaf, the Figure starts back, returning more reticently. Again Calaf murmurs in his sleep:]
CALAF
Turandot! Lady beloved!
[Standing in a shaft of vague light, the Figure of Harlequin lifts cautiously a vial and, unstopping it, dances softly three times around the divan; then pauses close to Calaf, who murmurs once more]
Princess! Love.
THE FIGURE OF HARLEQUIN
[Chants in a low voice]
Reveal, O dreamer: What is he,
His true-born name,
His father’s fame,
Who, desperate for love of me,
Assumed from far Beloochistan
The false name—Keedur, Khan!
[Bending above the dreaming form of Calaf, the Figure sprinkles from the vial upon his lips; then draws back and listens]
CALAF
[Murmurs louder in his sleep]
Be gracious unto me: Calaf, the son
Of Timur, King of Astrakhan!
THE FIGURE OF HARLEQUIN
[Laughing silverly]
Aha!
Calaf! Calaf, the son of Timur, King
Of Astrakhan!
CALAF
[Starting up on the divan]
Who calls me?
THE FIGURE
[Lifting a mandolin strung from the shoulder, strikes a swift chord and bounds away toward the door]
Ahaha!
CALAF
[Leaping to the floor, and following]
What are you? Stop!
[The Figure pauses]
Come from your shadow!
[The Figure takes a timid step forward, and stops]
You!
You, the dumb player, servant of our lord
The emperor! What brings you here?
THE FIGURE
Aha!
Reveal, O Lady: What is he
His true-born name,
His father’s fame—
CALAF
How’s that? Can the dumb speak?
THE FIGURE
Calaf, the son
Of Timur—hail!
CALAF
By heaven, a spy!
[He springs toward the door. The Figure tries to pass him but, thwarted, leaps back]
Not yet!
You shall not go till I have plucked the face
Out of that mask.
[At the door he turns the key and takes it]
The door is locked. Reveal
Yourself!
[The Figure draws away. He strides toward it. It escapes]
Light footed imp! Now by my soul,
You shall not live to blab beyond these walls
The secret you have stolen from my sleep.
[He starts again toward the Figure. It dances away from him, striking the strings of its mandolin. Round the great couch and about the shadowy room he pursues it, ever eluding him. Suddenly he pauses, and stares]
Stay! Am I, then, asleep? Are you indeed
Some imp of dreamland, sent to plague my soul
With fever shuttle-dances, a pied phantom
Painting the dark, and tinkling with your timbrel
These rafters of my riddle-tortured brain?—
If she should guess—If she should fail to guess!—
O Night, it is your Echo, mocking me:
’Tis but a Question, and beneath that mask
There are no lips to answer!
[Desperately, he throws himself down by the couch, burying his face against it. After a moment, the Figure approaches, cautious, surveys his prone form closely, bends as if to snatch at his robe, but draws back and stands hesitant; then with a gesture half frightened removes its mask, and speaks low]
THE FIGURE
Calaf, son
Of Timur—grace! Give me the key!
[Turning, Calaf slowly staggers to his feet, gazing with awe on the face of Turandot]
CALAF
O Dream!
Dream of my love transmuted to a boy—
O little dream in motley, speak once more!
TURANDOT
The key! Unlock the door, and let me forth.
CALAF
My lady—and her voice! Yet, shining boy,
Before my soul loses belief in you,
Still let me wonder, looking on your image,
And worship at your shrine—Saint Harlequin!
[He kneels before her]
TURANDOT
I do not ask for worship—but a key.
CALAF
The key you ask for locks the gate of heaven
And we are shut within. Love builds him bars
To stablish heaven where lovers are locked in.
TURANDOT
Lovers? You dare much.
CALAF
[Rising]
He dared more, to say
You love me, and I dared believe.
TURANDOT
[Amazed]
Who dared
To say it?
CALAF
He who shuttles through our lives,
Unriddling and riddling, like a restless loom—
The motley emperor.
TURANDOT
Capocomico!
He is a jester, Sir.
CALAF
Did he, then, jest
To furnish you that vial in your hand
And charm the fateful secret from my lips
Into your power? Ah, if you do not love me,
Why have you stolen here now to drag my name
From dreams—Calaf, your father’s enemy,
Doomed unto death?
TURANDOT
[Struggling with herself]
Nay, ask not.
CALAF
Turandot,
Princess of Pekin, stoops not to betray
Her enemy, nor steal a riddle’s answer
Thiefwise by night, to slay her enemy.
The thought is slander. No!—Therefore you love me:
So you have robbed—to save me.
TURANDOT
Turn your eyes
Away!
CALAF
Is it not so, Lady beloved?
TURANDOT
Oh, ask not with your eyes!—Nor with your thoughts
Ask not why this bold Harlequin is here
Thiefwise by night, to steal your secret name;
But let me go!
CALAF
[Holding out the key, gazes at her]
Will you, then, go?
TURANDOT
[Reaches for it, but pauses and turns back her hand, screening her face]
Your eyes!
They blind the space between. I cannot grope
The key I reach for.
CALAF
Will you go?
TURANDOT
The air
Is dim, but bright with pathways to your face,
And where they lead I falter, like a moth
To where the lamp shines.
CALAF
[In hushed triumph]
You will stay!
TURANDOT
O dark!
What light and darkness and the murmur of waters
Lure me toward you?
CALAF
Night and yearning stars
And rush of winds blend us, beloved. Listen!
Look in my eyes, O love!—Lean to my lips!
TURANDOT
[Closing her eyes]
I lean: Let me not fall!
CALAF
Thus will I save you!
[Reaching his arms passionately, he kisses her]
TURANDOT
[Starting back, with a cry]
Ah me! I am betrayed.
CALAF
By Buddha, I swear—
TURANDOT
Destroyed. O shame of all my vows forsworn,
Where have I fallen?
CALAF
On your lover’s heart.
Look, it is I.
TURANDOT
Who’s there?
CALAF
Calaf, your prince.
TURANDOT
Calaf!—Now shame put acid on my lips
And sere them of your kiss! A prince hath touched me!
O you poor bloody heads on Pekin’s wall,
Have you, then, died for this?—and Turandot
Shamed by a prince at last!
CALAF
Lady, I beg—
TURANDOT
Not that!—Ah, do not stab me with that word,
And make me bleed for one who begs.—The key,
Give me the key!
CALAF
Mistress, your words go by me
Like leaves blown wildly. I cannot gather them.
TURANDOT
Sir prince, I blow them wildly, and I care not
Whither they whirl.
CALAF
Love changes blood to wine.
The kiss of our communion hath turned wine
To madden you.
TURANDOT
The key!
CALAF
[Giving her the key]
Take it, my lady,
So you may know your freedom and my love,
And me your lover, Calaf.
TURANDOT
Calaf, not
My lover.—Calaf, or Keedur, Khan, you are
Mine enemy in my power.—Until to-morrow,
Good-night!
[She hastens toward the door. Grasping her arm, his eyes glow passionately]
CALAF
You came here to betray me?—Speak!
TURANDOT
I came to win your secret, and to shame you
To-morrow at the trial. Let me pass.
CALAF
No! We are in each other’s power. Let doom
Strike on us both together.
[Inexorably he compels her. She sinks on the couch]
TURANDOT
In your power!
What, I? You would not dare—
CALAF
Who would not dare?
Infinite ages climbed to this little moment;
Infinite ages shall sink after it.
I stand here on its peak to make it mine.—
Open the door!
TURANDOT
[Trembling]
Open it?—What will you do?
CALAF
Now shall the rafters of your palace ring
With “Turandot, the Harlequin, Calaf’s lover
Stolen to his arms beside his midnight couch!”
TURANDOT
[Shrinking from his gesture]
Touch me not!
CALAF
[Seizing her]
Wine! Your kiss turns in my blood
To wine of fire poured foaming, and the flames
Burn outward toward your lips.
TURANDOT
Kiss not again!
Be merciful, and hear me!
CALAF
Mercy cries
To God, not to our enemy.—Your lips!
TURANDOT
[With fearful appeal]
My lover, then!
CALAF
[Drawing back amazed]
Your lover!
TURANDOT
Yea—my love!
Your eyes—another blazes in your eyes.
CALAF
Another! Who?
TURANDOT
The noblest in this world:
I love him. I have sworn it. Yet—O Yet—
My flesh cries out to yours, my soul to yours,
My lips, my lips to yours.
CALAF
[Clasping her]
Ha, mine at last!
TURANDOT
[Repulsing him]
Clasp me not, lest I cling to you.—No more!
I will not. I am his. No kiss of yours
Can quench his burning image. Let me go!
But ah, the spell and rapture of your arms—
Reach them where yearning lovers starve in hell,
And bless them.—Stop! My body and soul are his.
I hate you—I hate you—hate you!
[She rushes into the dark. Calaf reaches—groping—with a wild cry.]
Curtain