Already kings and princes by the dozen She's managed by her subtlety to cozen; For she's so clever that she always diddles The keenest wits by her confounding riddles. KALAF. As wife, decidedly I should decline her, She's made of dragon-pattern stony China. What fools her suitors are, their hearts to fix on So termagant and bloodthirsty a vixen! BARAK. So fascinating is she, none withstand her, All men for her do nothing but philander. Behold on yonder gate the ghastly row Of livid heads set up in dismal show. All these belonged to men who dared to hope With Turandot in subtlety to cope. To-day a prince is led to execution, Who failed to give her riddles due solution. That is the reason of the noise you hear, Pray go not to the town. 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_).