Turandot, Princess of China - LightNovelsOnl.com
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BARAK (_screams_).
Prince, bethink you I What are you doing?
CALAF.
I will lift it up, To gaze upon this perilous loveliness....
(_Makes a dash for the picture._ BARAK _holds him back with force._)
BARAK.
You might as well look on the Gorgon's head!
I will not let you.
CALAF.
Have you lost your wits?
Let go of me! If _you_ are weak, _I_ am not!
(_Pushes him aside, and lifts the picture up._)
I tell you: woman's loveliness hath never Fettered even for a second's s.p.a.ce my eyes, Much less my heart: I mean the loveliness Of _living_ women. And now a daub or so, Cast on a canvas by some colour-grinder, Will stagger me, you think! Am I a child?
(_Sighs._)
Mine is no case of love...
(_Is about to look at the picture, when BARAK quickly lays his hand upon it and prevents him._)
BARAK.
Prince, close your eyes, For Heaven's sake!
CALAF.
Offend me not. Let go!
(_Looks at the picture, makes a gesture of surprise, and is seen to be in a state of ecstasy that grows with gazing._)
BARAK (_in anguish_).
Disaster, take thy course!
CALAF.
O Barak, what Do I behold? How can it be that this Sweet face, these gentle eyes, this soft, white breast, Should harbour such a heart as thou hast said, A heart cold as the snows of yesteryear?
BARAK.
Unhappy man!
CALAF.
O wors.h.i.+pped rosy cheeks!
O magic-breathing lips! O angel eyes!...
BARAK.
Unhappy man!
CALAF.
What son of earth shall be So brimmed with bliss, so blessed of the G.o.ds, That he shall hold thee, breathing, animate Perfection, in the hollow of his arms?
BARAK.
Unhappy man!
CALAF (_looks up for a moment, resolved_).
This is the turn of fate!
The loveliest lady of the whole round earth, Yea, and the richest empire time hath known, I by a game of riddles now shall win-- Or else, thou turbid life of mine, farewell!
BARAK.
Unhappy man!
CALAF (_gazing at the picture again_).
Thou sweetest promise! Thou Pledge of my hope! Lo! a new sacrifice Is coming to thy riddles and to thee.
Vouchsafe one smile, sweet lady, lady mine!-- O Barak, tell me, tell me, shall I once, Before they murder me, behold her face?
(_A new roll of drums from the centre of the city, sounding nearer than the first._ CALAF _hearkens, though his eyes are still riveted on the picture._ _The executioner appears on the city wall, a fearful sight, his bare arms bespattered with blood._ _He plants the head of the_ PRINCE Of SAMARKAND _on the vacant pole and then disappears_.)
