When daylight dawned, Suzuki awakened, and, shocked at her poor little mistress's tired looks, insisted that she should retire to her chamber to rest; and Butterfly, now overcome with fatigue, and wishing to look well when her eagerly expected husband should arrive, was at last persuaded to retire.
When she had departed to the little chamber upstairs, Suzuki, having seen that the little boy was playing happily outside, returned to the flower-decked room, and sank upon her knees before the image of Buddha to pray for her mistress's comfort. Whilst she was thus engaged, there came a gentle tap at the door; and upon opening it, she admitted, to her amazement, not only Sharpless, but Pinkerton also, who, after hearing of the Consul's unavailing visit of the day before, had now come with his friend to seek advice thus early in the morning from the faithful handmaid as to a means of acquainting the expectant Butterfly with the true position of affairs.
Suzuki, thinking for the moment that Pinkerton had indeed returned to claim his little Japanese wife, received him gladly, telling him of Butterfly's preparations for his arrival, and of her trust in him and eager longing for his arrival, each word of which was as a knife in the heart of the now remorseful Pinkerton, who at last realised the cruelty of his conduct, and was filled with grief at the pain he was about to inflict upon the gentle heart of one who loved him so truly and deeply.
The handmaid, however, was quickly undeceived upon observing a tall and beautiful lady waiting in the garden; and upon learning from Sharpless that this was the "real" wife of Pinkerton, she fell to the ground, overcome by this realisation of her fears. The kindly Consul gently raised her, and explaining that Mrs. Pinkerton had come to offer protection and care for the helpless baby boy, that his future welfare might be assured, begged her to assist them in this matter by all the means in her power.
Pinkerton, who had been wandering round the flower-decked room, noting with increased emotion the many signs of Butterfly's deep love for him, now declared that he could not bear the anguish of meeting her, and rushed away, leaving the Consul to perform his painful task alone; and as he departed, full of remorse and grief, his wife entered from the garden.
Kate Pinkerton was a beautiful and kind-hearted woman, and the Japanese girl's sad story had filled her with great pity; and she also added her entreaties that Suzuki would help them to be of service to her poor little mistress.
Whilst they were discussing this matter, Butterfly was heard calling from the chamber above; and having heard the sound of voices, she immediately afterwards appeared, full of excitement, and expecting to greet her husband. At the sight of Kate, she stopped short, gazing intently upon her; and though no word was spoken, she knew instinctively that this was the woman for whose sake she herself had been cast aside.
Sharpless now expected an outburst of passionate reproach; but to the surprise of all, Butterfly remained quite calm, and bore this sudden shattering of all her cherished hopes with a quiet dignity, so touching that all were moved. When Kate entreated forgiveness for the pain she had so unconsciously been the means of bringing upon her, she answered gently that she only wished that every happiness might be showered upon her. Then, when asked to give up her baby boy to the guardianship of his father, that his future welfare and prosperity might be assured, she promised quietly that Pinkerton should have his child if he would himself come for him in half an hour's time; and having thus succeeded in their mission, Kate and Sharpless departed, unable to bear any longer the heart-rending sight of such resigned suffering.
When they had gone, Butterfly dismissed Suzuki, and, taking down her father's sword, which she had always carefully cherished, with great reverence kissed the blade. For now that she at last realised the terrible truth that Pinkerton was her husband no longer, and that for his own good she must part with her child also, she had no further desire for life; and as she lifted the sword, she murmured broken-heartedly to herself: "If I can no longer live with honour, at least I can die with honour!"
At that moment, the door was opened to admit the baby boy, who was pushed gently within by Suzuki; and, dropping the sword, Butterfly rushed forward, and clasped her child in her arms in a last passionate embrace.