ave and full of joy.
The messenger I hold in custody
Until to-morrow night. Your unknown suitor
Is of a truth a prince, and a King's son.
You will not, cannot guess the names. My child,
It is a father's pity brings me here:
Why will you once again, this day that dawns,
Have yourself put to shame before a crowd,
Suffering the cruel malice of their hate?

(_Makes signs to_ PANTALONE _and_ TARTAGLIA
_to leave him alone_. _Exeunt both with
the_ GUARDS.)

Leave us alone! I hold it in my hand
To spare you all.

TURANDOT (_wavering_).

To spare me what? I thank you,
Father. I have no need of any help.
In my own wits I have my best defence.

ALTOUM.

You are now at your wits' end; you know it, too.
A desperate confusion fills your eyes.
We are alone with one another now.
Come, tell your father! Do you know the names?

TURANDOT.

You will know that in the Divan to-morrow.

ALTOUM.

Listen, my child. You do not know these names.
But if you do, trust in my love and say.
Then I will let the poor man know, and see
That he shall quit my lands without delay,
And we will have it noised abroad that you
Have conquered him, and spared him public shame.
Thus you escape the hatred of the crowd.
Will you deny your father this light boon?

TURANDOT.

I know the names.... I do not know the names....
Did _he_ show any pity when _he_ won?
Now let him bear what I myself have borne.
If I _do_ know the names, I shall announce them
To-morrow to the crowd in the Divan.

ALTOUM (_makes first a gesture of impatience and
then forces himself to be calm._)

All that he did was done in love, my daughter,
And in a game played for his head. Now bid
Ambition leave your heart, and anger too,
And let me show you how a father loves.
I pledge my head you do not know the names.
I have them here--and I will tell you them.
To-morrow then you may in the Divan
Put him to shame and contumely, and see
His anguish and his torture call for death,
Because with you he loses all he loved.
And only one thing do I crave: when you
Have fed your vengeance on him to the full,
Reach him your hand and be his willing wife.
Swear it; we are alone. Then have the names.
And all shall be a secret, mine and yours.

TURANDOT (_uncertain and excited, aside_).

What shall I do? Depend upon Adelma?
Or shall I let my father tell the names,
And bow my head to the yoke?... Less is the shame,
Beyond all doubt, to yield to one's own father.
B