SCENE V

BARAK, CALAF.

BARAK. Well? Did you hear? CALAF. You see me all amazed. One thing I understand not: how such power Should issue from a picture. (Bends down to lift up the picture.) BARAK (screams). Prince, bethink you I What are you doing? CALAF. I will lift it up, To gaze upon this perilous loveliness.... (Makes a dash for the picture. BARAK holds him back with force.) BARAK. You might as well look on the Gorgon's head! I will not let you. CALAF. Have you lost your wits? Let go of me! If you are weak, I am not! (Pushes him aside, and lifts the picture up.) I tell you: woman's loveliness hath never Fettered even for a second's space my eyes, Much less my heart: I mean the loveliness Of living women. And now a daub or so, Cast on a canvas by some colour-grinder, Will stagger me, you think! Am I a child? (Sighs.) Mine is no case of love... (Is about to look at the picture, when BARAK quickly lays his hand upon it and prevents him.) BARAK. Prince, close your eyes, For Heaven's sake! CALAF. Offend me not. Let go! (Looks at the picture, makes a gesture of surprise, and is seen to be in a state of ecstasy that grows with gazing.) BARAK (in anguish). Disaster, take thy course! CALAF. O Barak, what Do I behold? How can it be that this Sweet face, these gentle eyes, this soft, white breast, Should harbour such a heart as thou hast said, A heart cold as the snows of yesteryear? BARAK. Unhappy man! CALAF. O worshipped rosy cheeks! O magic-breathing lips! O angel eyes!... BARAK. Unhappy man! CALAF. What son of earth shall be So brimmed with bliss, so blessed of the gods, That he shall hold thee, breathing, animate Perfection, in the hollow of his arms? BARAK. Unhappy man! CALAF (looks up for a moment, resolved). This is the turn of fate! The loveliest lady of the whole round earth, Yea, and the richest empire time hath known, I by a game of riddles now shall win— Or else, thou turbid life of mine, farewell! BARAK. Unhappy man! CALAF (gazing at the picture again). Thou sweetest promise! Thou Pledge of my hope! Lo! a new sacrifice Is coming to thy riddles and to thee. Vouchsafe one smile, sweet lady, lady mine!— O Barak, tell me, tell me, shall I once, Before they murder me, behold her face? (A new roll of drums from the centre of the city, sounding nearer than the first. CALAF hearkens, though his eyes are still riveted on the picture. The executioner appears on the city wall, a fearful sight, his bare arms bespattered with blood. He plants the head of the PRINCE Of SAMARKAND on the vacant pole and then disappears.) BARAK. Stop looking on her face and look on that! That head up yonder, smoking yet with blood, Is the last lunatic's. And the same headsman Who set it there to-morrow will be yours. (Bursts into tears.) CALAF (turning towards the Prince's head). Unhappy man! What unknown power decrees That I must be thy mate? Up, Barak, up! Thou hast already once mourned me for dead, And why not once again? I will venture it. Tell no one who I am. Perchance the heavens Are tired of heaping troubles on my back. If fortune crown me in this game of riddles, Barak, I shall be grateful! Now, farewell! BARAK. O Heaven! My son.... My child.... (Notices his wife coming out of her house.) Come hither, quick! Skirina, help thou also! See, this youth, Whom I love well, is running from me now To woo the Princess and her riddles....