Tur monologue (Act 3) — Turandot: The Chinese Sphinx

What will Adelma's fertile brain devise? (_after a pause_.) In vain the truth I'd hide from mine own eyes; My heart is his--irrevocably his. To be his wife--oh rapture, heavenly bliss! Yet I must spurn his love. I will not bear All China's cold contempt; man's scoffing sneer. What glory would be mine could I but tame This bragging conqueror. Pronounce his name In high divan, and chase him from our city, Abashed and in despair. But yet, with pity My heart would surely break. Come, virgin pride And woman's art my shame and grief to hide. To-day, proud man has made me bear disgrace; To-morrow I must triumph o'er his race. But yet--he did not boastfully rejoice-- Rebuke I welcomed from his gentle voice. How humble was his suit--how mild and good, How unresentful towards my scornful mood. Avaunt, ye tender phantasies, avaunt! I dread the world's disdain--its scoffing taunt. My people shall not see Turandot fall, The slave of one means abject slave to all.