We call it the Great Throne because it's a big 'un. And this is the Little Throne. Quite so, the Little Throne.

(_Two eunuchs carry_ TURANDOT 's _throne to its place_.)

The Princess's, don't you know. We call this the Little Throne because it's a small 'un. Quite so. And _these_ are the eight cushions of the learned doctors.

(_Eight slaves carry cushions past._)

The sublime Divan will a.s.semble immediately, and then they'll all sit on 'em--the Emperor on the Great Throne, the Princess on the Little Throne, and the Doctors on the eight cushions.

(BRIGELLA _enters from the right_.)

BRIGELLA.

I've always got the blues in Pekin. Not half!

Here's the Emperor just gone and issued a fresh Court ceremonial again, and I can't get it into my noddle. I keep on practising. I can't do anything without practising. Oh, all right, you're a laughing at me. What are you laughing about?

TRUFFALDINO.

Business is good, that's what I'm laughing for.

My business and my adored Princess's. Trade's flourishing, praised be the Lord! Huge turnover, commissions promptly executed. Greatest stock of sheep's heads in the world. The Divan will a.s.semble immediately. There's another prince arrived, with his head itching.... _Ut veniant omnes_--let them all come.

BRIGELLA.

No, it's getting a bit too hot, all our young sparks going off like match-heads. Strike me dead, a man _can_ talk without his head--he can talk with his belly if he's a ventriloquist--but he can't keep his mouth shut when he's lost his head. What _are_ you a-laughin' at? It's no joke, not half! It's not three hours since the last was polished off, and you can find it in your heart to laugh!

TRUFFALDINO.

I have good reason to laugh. Every time my sweet adored Princess has netted one of these sheepish little princes with her riddles she's in such an excellent temper she's sure to present me with a charming token of her Imperial favour.

But you have no taste for such charms.

BRIGELLA.

I've more than you, anyhow! I can't come out with such high-flying language about your Princess. The hysterical water-wagtail. What right has she to turn her nose up at marriage?

Considering she knows nothing about it. Perhaps she might like it. You never can tell.

TRUFFALDINO.

Marriage! Oh, fie!

BRIGELLA.

Look here, I can't stand hearing a carved turkey like you cackling rot about marriage. Think of your own mamma. If she hadn't got married, where would you be?

TRUFFALDINO.

That's a lie. My mamma never got married at all, and I'm here just the same. You see me, don't you?

BRIGELLA.

True; I ought to have seen at the first glance that you were a b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

TRUFFALDINO.

I am not a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I am a child of love. All geniuses are children of love.

BRIGELLA.

But all children of love are not geniuses. You, for instance.

TRUFFALDINO.

I? I have risen in the world. I am Chief-- Chief--Chief--Administrator of the Harem. You understand. (Music is heard.) Anyhow, you go to the devil now and pay your customary a.s.siduous attention to your pages. His Sublime Majesty the Emperor approaches....

SCENE VIII

(_To the strains of music enter from the left the Imperial Guards, thereupon the eight doctors, behind them_ PANTALONE, TARTAGLIA, _finally_ ALTOUM, _at whose entrance all prostrate themselves, touching the floor with their brows_. ALTOUM _seats himself on his throne_. PANTALONE _and_ TARTAGLIA _stand near him_.

_The doctors sink on to their cushions.

The music ceases._)

ALTOUM.

How long, ye faithful, shall this torture last?

Scarcely have we with seeming reverence Mourned the poor Prince of Samarkand, mine eyes Have scarcely dried their tears, but a new victim, New sorrow comes. O cruel daughter, born To be a curse to me! But what avails To curse the day when by the highest G.o.d I swore that edict! For I cannot break My oath; I cannot touch my daughter's heart; I cannot frighten those who come to woo.

Which man of you can tell me what to do?

PANTALONE.

My dearest Majesty, some other Counsellor must advise you in this case. In my home in Venice, Heaven knows, I never heard of such laws. In my home there are never any edicts of that sort. In my home princes don't fall in love with a medallion, and then, out of sheer love for the original, go hawking their heads about.

In my home in Venice there never was a girl who refused a man when he offered, like this Princess Turandot here. Heaven knows, in my home such things don't happen even in dreams!

Before I had the ill-luck to have to run away from Venice, and before I had the unmerited good fortune to be appointed your Majesty's Prime Minister, I had never heard anything about China, except that you had to be careful not to smash it; and Heaven knows it kind of knocks me on the head that in this part of the world there should be such obsolete customs and such obsolete oaths and such obsolete males and females as there are here in your country, Heaven knows.

And if I were to tell the story in my home in Venice, they would say: "Shut up, you bounder!

Tell that to the marines!" They'd laugh in my face, I tell you, Heaven knows!