ut what if wise Adelma had succeeded
Already, and my oath had been too soon?

ALTOUM.

Why will you rack your brains when all is clear?
Let not irresolution harry you!
Would you still have me think you know the names?
Child, be persuaded!

TURANDOT (_aside_).

No, I will wait for Adelma.
My father urges me. This is a sign
The mystery is not impenetrable.
He is in league with that strange man, and seeks
To talk me over.

ALTOUM.

Hesitate no longer!
Make up your mind! Rein in your rearing pride!
Torture yourself no more.

TURANDOT.

I _am_ resolved.
Call the Divan together in good time.
I have no more to say.

ALTOUM.

You are resolved
Rather to yield to force than to your father!

TURANDOT.

I am resolved to fight.

ALTOUM (_in a rage_).

Fool without heart!
I will indeed call the Divan together
To be your temple and your altar too.
And I will summon priests, to celebrate
Your marriage while a crowd looks on and mocks.
Yea, have your will, you stupid fool! Good night.

(_Exit._)

SCENE IX

_Scene shifted._ _A magnificent apartment with
several doors._ _In the middle of the room an
Oriental divan, which serves_ CALAF _as a bed_.
_Deep night._

BRIGELLA, CALAF.

BRIGELLA.

(_With a candlestick in his hand._) Three hundred
and seventy-seven, three hundred and
seventy-eight, three hundred and seventy-nine.
It's already three o'clock in the morning, your
Royal Highness, and you've walked now exactly
three hundred and eighty times from one corner
of the room to the other. To be quite frank, I'm
done up, and if you _would_ lie down a little,
it would do us both good. You're in safety here.

CALAF.

Yes, you are right. But my excited mind
Gives me no peace. Forgive me! Leave me!
Go!

BRIGELLA.

I should like to give you a piece of advice,
my dearest Royal Highness: if a ghost pays
you a visit, be prudent, be prudent; _try_ to be prudent.

CALAF.

Ghosts, do you say? What ghosts? Is the place haunted?

BRIGELLA.

Well.... H'm.... We have the most
stringent orders to admit nobody, under penalty
of death. H'm.... Poor servants _we_ are, poor
servants! The Emperor is the Emperor, you
understand, but the Princess, she is the Empress,
so to speak. Poor servants... it's hard to have
to pick your way between two puddles. Not
half! If you only knew it, we've always got
our heads between the hammer and the anvil.
We don't want to get into _anybody's_