The Daughter of Heaven

_The_ EMPEROR _and_ FOUNT-IN-THE-FOREST

Fount. They are pretty.

Emperor. And so gracefully dressed! It makes me regret the fact that my victorious ancestors imposed the Tartar costume on the people. These Chinese robes are so much more beautiful.

Fount. They make the women appear more slender and delicate.

Emperor. Do all the inhabitants of the city garb themselves in the old way?

Fount. In their homes, no doubt, they do. Out of doors, in the streets, they still keep up a pretence of wearing the new.

Emperor. The Viceroy whom I sent to Nanking is certainly not ignorant of all this. Why has he not informed us?

Fount. Your Viceroy, Sire, is not a Tartar, but a Chinese, which means that he espouses the cause of the rebels. Yet at Peking, outside the walls of your Palace of Eternal Silence, what goes on is fairly well known. While you are dreaming of ultimate peace, they are preparing for war.

Emperor. Alas!----

[_Trumpets, xylophones and gongs are heard in turn, each five times. Then the watchmen pass slowly._]

Fount. The fifth watch.

Emperor. Must we go in?

Fount. Not yet. The Empress is going to the Temple of her Ancestors. That will give us a little time.

Emperor. The Empress!----In a few moments I shall see Her! The beautiful vision I have dreamed of is to be destroyed by the actuality----Ah! this woman, who must have the uttermost horror for me, can have no idea that for months past she has filled all my thoughts, has haunted my solitary hours. If She only knew that the phantom Emperor, isolated in his palace at Peking, wrote poems in her honour night after night!----

Fount. She is said to be beautiful and charming, but that is perhaps only a courtier's tale.

Emperor. If She is not, then my sacrifice will be only the more meritorious.

Fount. Ah! see, there she comes. She is crossing the garden, and, as no one is here, her palanquin is wide open.

Emperor. Ah!

[_Through the flowering bushes he gazes ardently at her. The sound of a march is heard._]

But I recognise Her, my friend, that woman so beautiful and tender, so noble and delicate, that rare, that imperial flower!----Friend, what do you think of this omen? It is She, absolutely She--She whom I have seen reflected in the mirror of my dreams----

Fount. The eyes of the dragon traverse all space.

[_The_ EMPEROR _seats himself again on the bench, leaning on_ FOUNT-IN-THE-FOREST, _almost fainting._]

Emperor. See how this emotion shatters my strength!

Fount. You are like the sacred lyre, whose strings vibrate at the slightest inspiration.