Friedrich Schiller

Turandot Friedrich Schiller

BARAK. Prince Kalaf? 'tis not possible. He's dead! Yet, sure 'tis he-his eyes-his legs-his head, - My Lord! KALAF. What-Barak! here-alive? BARAK. And kicking. But how escaped you from that fatal licking The Bey of Tefflis gave us all in battle? Your father's troops were slaughtered off like cattle, And you, my Prince, we thought, were slain or taken; So off I fled to save, at least, my bacon. I found a refuge in this queer old city; A widow married me for love-or pity. We live like happy doves in yonder cot, - My only grief, -the thought of your sad lot. KALAF. We never thought to meet again, dear Tutor, - In China too! BARAK. For years I've taken root here. But, dearest Prince, how was it, tell me, pray, You 'scaped the perils of that dreadful day?