From a one-act play opera by Riyoko Ikeda
Characters and performers:
Oscar François de Jarjayes – Alto
André Grandier – Tenor
Alain de Soisson – Bass-baritone
Rénier Augustin de Jarjayes – Baritone
Nanny – Mezzo-soprano
Marguerite de Jarjayes – Soprano.
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
The lights go out one after the other, the red heavy velvet curtain rises slowly and little by little reveals the scenography: France at the end of eighteenth century, just before the outbreak of Revolution.
Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy the show.
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Alto:
Peaceful night but the sweet fragrance of the flowers in the air doesn’t soothe my suffering. I am lying on the bed, my shirt ripped, my pride hurt and my bare skin exposed.
You are standing in front of me and you are staring at me with a look in your eyes I've never seen before; you’re looking at me and I don't even try to cover myself. Anyway, you’ve already seen whatever you wanted to see and a second, a minute or an hour more doesn’t make any difference.
So, look at me, then, I don't hide myself. What sense does it make to do so, now?
What did you want to demonstrate, André?
That I am a woman and that you are a man?
I already knew this.
A stranger took the place of my friend André.
A man I don't know stole the only kiss I could ever have, with violence. Now you are covering me with the sheet, crying and swearing you'll never do such a thing again.
Please, go away. I don't think I'm able to stand your presence anymore.
I'm crying too and I cry even more when you tell me that you have always loved me. You mustn't love me, André, I'm a soldier, even if I have a woman's body, my spirit is a man’s.
Leave me alone, I don't want to see you.
I feel guilty, even if I don't understand why.
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Tenor:
I have hurt you, Oscar. I have injured and humiliated you.
I couldn’t stand it anymore, I saw you wearing that dress, and then trying to run away from love, from yourself.
How much can a man stand? You can hurt me as much as you want, but I cannot watch you while you are destroying yourself with your own hands. Why can't you love yourself a bit?
I love you so much... I'll never do this again, not like that. I'd like to kiss you, touch your skin again and run my hands all over it. But only if you want me to. And one day you will be the one asking me to.
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Alto:
I handed in my resignation from the Royal Guards. Her Majesty insisted to know why I wanted to quit so much.
Girodel and my men pleaded with me to stay. I'm sorry, I can't do that. It wouldn't be fair and my fragile heart wouldn't stand the friendship of the man who doesn't love me.
Since that evening I haven’t been thinking about him. It isn't that difficult to forget him; besides, my thoughts took another direction.
I slip my white gloves on and I go along the lengthy colonnade.
You hold César’s reins, with your eyes pointed downwards; the events of the other evening have become an invisible barrier between the two of us.
You don't dare to look me straight in the face, and I don't want to meet your eyes.
I take the bridle from your hands, taking great care not to touch you. I don't feel at ease with you any longer and this has never happened before.
You can say that we have grown up, but we have both paid dearly for the passage to adulthood: as children we thought that when we would grow up we could have done whatever we wanted. We were wrong: we grew and so did both our worries and sufferings... and everybody ask for more, more and more.
Don't make that face, I can't stand it! It seems that it's almost my fault. It's you who ripped that damned shirt. If you wish, I'll refresh your memory: now it's rolled into a ball on the bottom of my wardrobe, the one I never open, in which I hang the old uniforms.
I keep on not looking at you and I get onto the horse. “Since I decided to live like a man, you don't have to take care of me anymore. While waiting for my new assignment, I will go to the family villa in Normandy.” Words like gunshots, one after the other as if I am talking to a subordinate who is waiting for my orders and not to a lifelong friend. I find it difficult to call you “man”, as I never considered you as one. Now I know how much I was wrong. I let my guard down with you and I made a mistake.
I gather my courage and I add: “In regard to what happened the other evening, I won't hold it against you. Anyhow, I prefer to forget.”
There! I said it. I'm not angry with you. But stay away from me, don't approach me anymore. Despite what I told you I can't forget that “that other evening” you taught me the hardest lesson you could ever teach me: with your physical strength you have demolished my house of cards.
You are the one who could hurt me the most, because you’re the closest to me.
But I can't go back, André: I've made my choice now, and this is my life.
I won't love anyone anymore, I will fight and I will be a soldier. The best one!
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Alto, solo:
What a ferocious wind, it seems it almost wants to blow me away.
Even though I am wearing the thickest mantle I own, I feel cold and the northerly wind pulls me backwards. Clothes cling on me, my hair hides my view.
I have never experienced Normandy like this. Every time you were here with me and now, in some ways, your absence is more noticeable than your presence.
As if out of spite, the weather is the worst that I have seen here.
The black of the clouds reflects the black of my mood. Unapproachable like I've never been before and the servants understood quickly that these days they must leave me alone.
Not even this dog wants to get near to me. Perhaps he can smell my anger with his sensitive nose, it's able to understand that it is better to avoid me. Smart dog. You should learn from him a bit...
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Soprano:
You don't realize it, but I observe you from afar. I don't have many things to do, apart from keeping company to Her Majesty, and that doesn't happen often: the sovereign is a young woman who has the need for the cheerful presence of a person who is the same age as her. You are the only daughter who is still at home, Oscar, and sometimes I wonder if I was wrong in giving in to your father desire of raising you as a man. Sometimes I see the sadness in your eyes, but I don't dare to ask you anything. What are you looking for, my dear? How could I help you? Are you happy with the life you are leading? Your heart is kind, my daughter, but what you have - is it enough for you? Don't you wish to have someone who loves you?
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Tenor:
It is of no use that you look at me like that. Now I'm not your servant anymore, I can do whatever it crosses my mind and I don't owe you any kind of obedience anymore, except what a soldier owes his Commander. I know you are angry, but between the two of us the one that sees things more clearly at the moment it’s me, so accept it. When you are like that, you're unable to think logically. I simply signed up for the army because after all I'm the only one who can protect you and you know this is undeniable. You got furious because you know I'm right and it upsets you to admit it. When you get over it, you will admit it, even if only with yourself. It would be too much of a defeat to tell me this openly, wouldn't it, Oscar?
Go on, get angry and smash something. Give me a slap, hit me, but remember what happened when you did it last time. You were crying and I was holding a piece of light fabric in my fist while I was unable to take my eyes off your breasts. You remained still and silent.
Now, at least, you’re reacting. At least you had the nerve to look at me straight in the face, not like the other day: me staring at your back and you staring into space.
I felt you faltering, when you said: “André, I...”
By now, you know how I feel for you. I don't have to hide it anymore, thank God, because it was killing me. Now that I'm no longer your servant, I can show it in a thousands ways, repeat it to you endlessly that I love you. What a relief.
I couldn't stand hiding it anymore, pretending not to notice WHAT you are, and treating you like a male friend.
How much time will it take you to understand that you can't do without me? I knew it since we were born that we must be together and that we feel awful when we are apart. Look at yourself Oscar, you don't smile anymore. You have never smiled much, but now...
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Bass-baritone:
Hey mate, stop loving her. She is the best Commander I have ever had, but she is a woman to admire, not to love. For her sake you would be willing to sacrifice even the only eye that is left to you. Forget about her, André, it isn't worth it at all. She is a breathtakingly beautiful woman, but she is as cold as ice and she doesn't care about you. If you should marry my sister, she wouldn't blink an eye: it's your own business, she said. Forget about her and listen to me: find a real woman, a woman who would warm both your heart and bed and put the Commander out of your head.
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Bass-baritone, solo:
So, you made your decision. When I woke up after that explosion and saw how you were holding her arm, I understood that it was too late for you: you can't do without her. Even unconscious, you tried to stay close to her, to protect her. There is nothing I can do but to wish you good luck.
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Alto:
I have pains everywhere, my head aches. My arm is dislocated.
A bit of quiet, at last, and now the night became peaceful again. All evening long Nanny went around me and bustled about me. My usual dose of warm affection** and I went to bed, but I already know that I won't sleep. I always think too much and today is worst than ever and my head is throbbing painfully.
I keep seeing myself in count Fersen's arms again and again but I don't feel anything. He held me tight against him and it almost bothered me. I owe a lot to him because he saved you and at this point I ask myself what I saw in him.
I shouted out those words and I don't know where they came from. I didn't realize you were so important to me. When Fersen brought you back to me and he put us into the carriage, you were practically unconscious. Instead of laying you down, I let you lay your head against my shoulder. I wanted to understand what it was like to hold the man that one loves. In that terrifying night I experienced a sweet pain, a sense of peace and warmth that I never knew existed and the desire of feeling you close to me.
You were unconscious, and I was touching your hair, your freshly-shaved, but scratched face.
You are... handsome, André. I tried, shyly, to put my lips on yours, but at the last moment I didn't manage and I brushed your cheek with my mouth. My fingers ran over your cheek and I was praying to the highest heaven that you wouldn't regain consciousness just in that moment because I wouldn't know how to explain my silly behaviour.
Unaware, you settled yourself better in my arms and I remained still, with you on top of me and all the love that I discovered just a quarter of an hour ago, for the first time my heart was beating together with yours.
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Baritone:
So, he wants to marry you. I had no idea that things between you two had gone so far, Oscar. If only I had known that, I would never have allowed it, I would have sent him to Normandy and he wouldn't ever be back. As I already said, the class difference existing between the two of you won't ever be removed. Did you allow him to take you in his arms or to have you? Was he the man you were talking about that afternoon of a few weeks ago while you were caressing the petals of a white rose? When I saw you standing close to him, you scared me, my daughter: the Queen's messenger who was carrying her pardon had arrived and I was crying with joy while you were close to him near the wall. You weren't touching each other, but it seemed like something was bonding you two indissolubly. You didn't speak, you didn't even exchanged looks, but your shadows were melting on the wall, the one in the other. Is it like that for your hearts as well?
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Mezzo-soprano:
My weak heart faltered: I'm too old and I should be resting. I have always feared it would end up like that. You have always loved her, but I didn't think that you got to the point of offering your own life for Oscar. Now I thank The Lord for saving both of you, but be careful, my children, now days it is dangerous for you to love each other.
~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~
Tenor:
Peaceful night and sweet moonbeams caress your skin.
I hold you in my arms while you are sleeping and I breathe in your womanly scent.
We lie on the bare ground, our clothes scattered all around because we didn't want to waste any more time.
You are leaning against my chest and the fireflies roam in this dark sky, which doesn't scare us.
How could I be scared? It sheltered and protected us and it cherished our love.
I don't envy the King, the nobles, the aristocrats for all they have: Now I'm like them because I gained all that I desired.
I never heard you laughing like that, sighing and asking me all the love that I could give you. It is so much, Oscar, so very much, you have no idea.
You closed your eyes when I was kissing you and reopened them when you felt my hands on you. Your red cheeks, your swollen lips and your sparkling eyes, all because of me.
Finally you came to me: in this peaceful night you became mine, Oscar, and you will be mine forever, as long as we live.
The curtain falls silently on the scene and on the lives of Oscar and André.
~ THE END ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Afterwords:
I thank Naco-chan for the help and the encouragement. But mostly, thanks to Bradamante who cared enough to spend a lot of time on my fanfic, as well as to Nant, Megumi and Happii who revised the translation. Further thanks to Simona, aka Londonlilyt, who checked my comments. I like the thought that this story is the result of six brains working altogether. Thank you very much, girls!
I don't know if you have ever sung in a choir, but if you have had this experience, certainly you realized that the main melodies of a chant, of an aria, are usually committed to the sopranos and tenors. Altos and bass baritones, in general, do a work of “background”, as they deal with the countermelody and their score is more difficult compared to the one of the protagonists.
I imagined Oscar as a splendid Alto, with a low-pitched and rich voice. I hope you liked this very small experiment of mine of a really “sui generis”song fic.
*Title inspired from the first verse of “L'ultimo Canto di Saffo – Sappho’s Last Chant” by Giacomo Leopardi.
** This expression came because I recalled that Janis Joplin used to drink a whisky called Southern Comfort. I don't know for which Pindaric flight, this thought took me to the warm affection related to the chocolate.
|
