e; do not the painful scene repeat.

TUR.

The high divan shall judge. Firm as a rock
Is my strong will. His easy task I mock.

ALT.

Has thy keen wit discovered--tell me truth--
The secret of this overtrusting youth?
If so, be gen'rous; let him go in peace;
From further strife and public struggle cease.
Deal gently with this boy of noble race,
Nor wantonly expose him to disgrace.
Thus shalt thou earn all Chang's high admiration.
Thy harsh decree has much estranged the nation.
They tell strange tales about the Chinese Sphinx,
Men's skulls she gnaws--hot human blood she drinks.
Oh, show thyself as modest, tender, duteous,--
More homage this commands than being beauteous.

TUR.

Your mercy, Sire, beseems your hoary age;
Your words might well convert a Grecian sage,
But cannot change my purpose. I'll not bow
My neck to any man: so runs my vow.
In public this pert boy my power defeated,--
In public shall my vengeance be completed.

ALT.

Dear child, paternal love shall condescend
To humbly beg obedience. Do but bend
To my desire, and thou shalt from me learn
The whole of what this stranger may concern.
In public thou shalt triumph--name aloud
Thy foe, in face of an applauding crowd.
But swear, if thus I'm traitor for thy sake
Thou wilt this suitor for thy husband take.
Thy deed will bless thine aged father's days--
Reward a loving heart--win all men's praise.

TUR. (_who has listened with increasing emotion_)--

His words are torture to my wav'ring pride,
How shall I act? How may I best decide?
Adelma shall I trust? Her plot may fail;
Without disgrace a father may prevail.
Down, stubborn soul (_advances towards_ ALT., _then
hesitates_), and yet, beneath Man's yoke
To crouch? No, no, my vow I'll not revoke.

ALT.

Thou'rt touched. Sweet daughter, grant my fond desire.

TUR.

He fears I may succeed and thwart him. Sire,
I'll meet in high divan. My will is steady.

ALT.

Then, if thou fail, the altar shall be ready;
The rite shall be performed with solemn fitness,
While vulgar crowds shall thy confusion witness.
Their scoffing jeers shall be thy wedding hymn;
Thy father stooped in vain; now stoop to him. (_Exit_.)

TUR.

Oh, murder not your child! Adelma, friend,--
Forsake me not. My grief some comfort send;
My only hope's in thee. If great Fo-hi
Withhold success, to-morrow sees me die. (_Exit_.)

END OF ACT. III.

ACT IV.

SCENE.--A magnificent apartment