Disclaimer - - alas, Moulin rouge belongs to the great Baz Luhrmann…
"There's a power in you that scares me."
I now believe what I told the Duke so many weeks ago. However, he does not scare me. There's a power inside myself that's…..frightening. It isn't just my corset being too tight or those silly costumes I once tried to convince myself of. I'm losing my touch – Harold knows.
The Duke is waiting. Oh no, here it comes again. I can't stop coughing. I'm choking on my own blood. I hold myself up against the mirror; the pain is almost more than I can bear. I look awful. I barely recognize this ghastly woman before me. It won't fucking stop! Darkness.
"You don't have to lie to me."
I feel a change inside me. Christian feels it too. My body aches. Why can't I get better? Is God punishing me for all my wrongs? Funny that he should abandon me till now. I can't muster the energy to argue. My instincts have always told me to survive – now I'm not so sure. My instincts have been silenced.
"The show must go on."
I'm dying. Am I really that surprised? Haven't I been deteriorating for years at this empty place? I was a fool to believe. I haven't slept at all. My eyes are burning; my body is ready to break. My breathing is ragged, my movements slow. A courtesan is my sad destiny. "I am the Hindu Courtesan." What a joke. I walk in the rain trying to wash away the good left in me. It never was useful in the Underworld.
I'm dressed in diamonds, draped on me like chains. I'm lifted on my platform into the stage light, with a hundred prying eyes watching me intently. Not now! I lose my breath but quickly regain my composure. Was that a flicker of fear I saw in Harold's eyes? Did he fear for me or for his precious show in his precious theater? It's too late to question it now. Some how I manage to sing holding back the blood-stained tears.
"She is mine."
I am lost forever.