The startled ballet mistress whirled around to find Jezebelle
"What is it, child?"
"You know about him!" Jezebelle's face was stern.
"I know nothing more than you do!" Madame Giry tried to dissuade her.
"Yes you do!" Jezebelle snapped. "Tell me! Tell me everything!"
Madame Giry eyed her, not sure if she should trust her. Sighing with defeat, she relented.
"A traveling fair came to Paris years ago, when Meg was still a child. My husband had died recently and Meg and I were living with my parents..." Madame Giry did not want to say anymore, but the young vicomtess had notable status above her, despite that the ballet mistress was an imposing figure herself.
"...I was at the fair, looking at the sideshow of human oddities. Among them was a young man who was said to be a genius. He was; he was said to have built a maze of mirrors for the Shah of Persia, and was an extraordinary composer, an inventor... he had made the plans for this very opera house, and they were accepted... but he was given not notice for them... he was shut in a cage... half of his face was deformed. Deformed from birth, he was dubbed 'the Devil's Child'. I'd gone back to the fair one day to find that they were packing up to leave... the boy had escaped."
Jezebelle watched her with no expression.
"The world forgot him, but I cannot... he has been seen many times since then..." distressed, Madame Giry turned to leave.
"Where are you going, Madame Giry?" Jezebelle called after her.
"I have said too much already!" came the response.
Christian beheld the new opera that Erik was composing since Don Juan Triumphant was nearly complete. David et Jonathan, concerning the Biblical lovers... or, rather, the world preferred to edit the Bible so that they were merely close friends.
"Erik, this is beautiful...!" Christian had been so taken by the sweeping grandeur of the love theme. Quiet but anguished at first, then gentler, and then a small but breathtaking crescendo. A mildly powerful onrush of lush, gracious, highly emotive music, and then... a small solo created for a flute, during which a rather gentle but empassioned arioso by Jonathan occurred, then a harp solo for David's arioso. Then the music began another crescendo, before long going to mezzo-forte, until a grand climax.
"Do you like it, love?" Erik inquired, his eyes hopeful.
"Of course I do, Erik," Christian smiled at him, "why should I not after saying how beautiful it is?"
"Would you practice le duet d'amour with me?"
Humming a bit, Christian happily complied. They began with the recitative, which rang with fear and drama.
"Mon père nous suspecte - !" Erik sang Jonathan's part in his strong, lush dramatic tenor.
"Ce qui ? mais pourquoi... ?" Christian took David's lines.
Erik continued.
"Mon amour, il n'est pas sûr de
retourner là, de peur que tu mourras - !"
In David's character, Christian whirled around in distress. The beginning of the duet began.
"Jonathan, hélas, mon coeur!
Ah, étaient il pas pour tu,
je mourrait, mon amour...
Hélas, devons-nous être séparés...?" Cried David's character through Christian's refined but raw and emotive spinto tenor.
"Mon chéri, m'entendent," Erik/Jonathan reached out his hand to Christian/David, trying to reassure him.
"Entre dans la paix,
parce que autant que
nous avons juré tous les deux
nous au nom du Seigneur,
énonciation, Le Seigneur
soient entre moi et tu,
et entre ma graine et ta graine pour
jamais...
Where the flute should have taken over, Erik/Jonathan began right on cue.
"Craign pas, ange, pour
de façon ou d'autre nous
survivra la colère de mon père.
Pleur pas, mon amour... !
Je ne peux pas soutenir ta douleur... !"
Erik/Jonathan abandoned playing the piano briefly, embracing Christian/David, his voice choked with emotion. The grief and longing of the duet was coming out beautifully, but quite raw and harsh still. Christian/David put his pain into his arioso, equally as melodious as Erik's/Jonathan's.
"Devons-nous, mon ange?
Mon aimé, doit-il être que
nous devons être distants lointain
mais continuer toujours notre
amour dans privé? Comment ?
Comment devons-nous faire ainsi, aimé... ?"
The lyrical arioso over,Christian/David began again on the rich, sustained melody.
"Nous verrons de façon ou d'autre, amour.
Mais mon père a toujours
la jalousie, et tu deve tu cacher.."
"O, un tel destin horrible qui
nous force à part ! O Seigneur, je prie
que notre ruine ne viendra jamais."
Christian/David wept to keep with the drama. It wasn't hard for him, for he felt that he was in David's place; Jezebelle desired him, and it disturbed him, frightened him. Was this what David felt like? To be desired by someone, whether it be for death or desire and lust?
"Est-il vrai que ceci doive être ?
Pour vivre ma vie loin loin de celle
cette règles au-dessus de mon âme ?
Ainsi que ce soit, si je dois la
supporter, mais rien plus mauvais pour moi
pourrait être que ceci : vie loin
de mon chéri pour se sauver...
O Seigneur, ont la pitié sur nous,
nous a laissés soit sûr de façon ou
d'autre, de la prise de qui serait
mon père par mariage était
lui pas pour ses tentatives
de mettre la mort sur moi.
Soyons sûrs, O Seigneur m'entendent - !"
"Pleure, aimé. Libére ton douleur.
Erik/Jonathan wept with him, half as an act, but half of it was true. He could understand the grief of the two lovers, and it was as though Jezebelle had taken Saul's role and wanted to take his David away from him... but instead of wanting to kill David, this incarnation wanted to marry him... and perhaps even to kill Jonathan.
"Rappele-tu que tu ave mon coeur
et mon amour entièrement.
Est-ce que je dirais ceci s'il ne
pourrait pas être ? Mon amour doux,
peut-être mon père nous
maintiendra distants dans le corps,
mais dans l'âme il n'a aucune
puissance au-dessus de nous.
Tu rappelleras-tu cela ? J'implore
de tu. La musique de ta voix
douce sera plus faible,
mais j'entendrai que c'étaient toujours
lui des milles de distance."
Then, beginning the grand-finale, their voices merged as one.
CHRISTIAN/DAVID:
/ "Oui, mon aimé!
Toujours volonté que
je me rappelle! O, mais
la douleur qui me frappe.
Toujours, je ne soumettrai
pas à elle! Nous trouverons une
manière de façon ou d'autre...!"
ERIK/JONATHAN:
Oui, mon ange!
Oubliez l'ennui, mais
rappele-tu moi. M'entendent
Nous aimerons de façon
ou d'autre toujours, mon ange.
Il y a espoir pour notre salut.
Faites- confiancemoi, mon aimé...!
BOTH:
"Entre dans la paix,
parce que autant que
nous avons juré tous les deux
nous au nom du Seigneur,
énonciation, Le Seigneur
soient entre moi et tu,
et entre ma graine et ta graine pour
jamais..." The duet ended with glorious high notes.
"Je dois aller. Le père me recherchera." Erik/Jonathan sang sadly. They embraced.
"Adieu, chéri. Je désirerai ardemment pour vous beaucoup..." Christian/David sighed.
"Je t'aime." Erik/Jonathan answered.
"Je t'aime." Christian/David responded back.
They embraced with a kiss...
"Lunacy!" Firmin cried out as he read the libretto to "Don Juan Triumphant".
"What does he think us to be, imbeciles?" Andre gaped at the libretto in horror.
The score was harsh, grating. It perfectly conveyed fury, agony, longing, and a fear of being discovered. In spite of that, there were lovely, melodic moments... but the story on the other hand...
This opera was filled with forbidden love, sex, and a very intimate relationship between the title character and a young peasant man, Amando.
The managers laughed uncomfortably at the plot.
"Do not tell me that these two men are in love-!" Firmin snickered as he read the lyrics.
There was no denying the undeniable; Don Juan and Amando were indeed lovers. The action and words made that sharp and clear.
"What on earth is this? Could this Phantom, dare I say it, lust after men, or is this some tasteless joke?" Andre's face was set with scorn.
"But we can't refuse this! Buquet was nearly killed with "Manon"! Lord knows what the Phantom will do!"
"What sort of foul joke is this?" Carlotta and Piangi squawked in chorus.
"We have no choice-!" Firmin protested.
"Oh, the things that I must do for my art... if you call this filth art!" Piangi grimaced, highly disliking the subject of the plot, "If you think that will play any part in this opera-!"
"Do not disparage the composer's work. Dare you speak that to his face?" Madame Giry entered the office, cross at hearing the snide remarks toward Erik's opera.
Carlotta reeled at the thought of Piangi playing the lead character.
A bit of a scuffle outside the door distracted them. The door opened to reveal Jezebelle trying to persuade Christian into playing a part in the opera.
"So here's our precious nightingale!" Scoffed Piangi. "I suppose now he'll be useful. I'll let him take the lead." he chuckled, half to himself.
"Please, gentlemen!" Andre addressed the two men.
"I want no part in this, monsieurs, mademoiselles!" Christian gasped, clearly agitated.
"How do we know that, may I ask, monsieur? I tell you all this is a plan to help Christian Daaë! He's the cause of all the trouble!" Carlotta bellowed.
"You wretch, you minx!" Christian snarled, "I want no part in this plot at all!"
"Silence, both of you!" Madame Giry intervened.
Jezebelle approached Firmin and Andre. "Monsieurs, I believe that we have an answer to our problems..." Christian stared at her. He could have sworn that his heart stopped.
"It seems obvious that this Phantom has the vice of the Greeks, if you get my meaning... and has taken a liking to Christian and desires him." Jezebelle said smoothly. Save for Christian and Madame Giry, all else in the room shivered in disgust.
"That explains this rubbish!" Firmin exclaimed. Christian's eyes blazed with anger. Madame Giry tightened her grip on her cane, her eyes were icy.
"The answer is so simple and clear that I cannot understand why we didn't carry it out sooner- carry out his orders!" Jezebelle declared, "Play this, the Phantom's opera, place Christian in the part of Amando, bring in armed guards, his reign of terror will end!" the eyes of the managers and the Italians lit up
Christian reeled. They were going to shoot Erik! He forced back the tears, trying not to think of his beloved's lifeless body being ravaged by angry bystanders.
"This is madness!" Madame Giry cried in horror.
"What? And what do you mean by that, Estelle Giry?" Andre and Jezebelle rounded on her.
It was too late. "Monsieur, mademoiselle, we cannot turn the tide! I know this well-!"
"Help us then!" Firmin yelled.
"I wish that I could, I-!"
"Or could you be on his side!" Jezebelle growled.
"I intend for no ill! We've seen the what he is capable of! I'm warning you-!"
In no time the small office was ringing with arguments. Madame Giry continued trying to defend Christian and Erik discreetly, but to no avail. Jezebelle, Firmin and Andre were intent on destroying the Phantom.
"What glory can this boy gain from it? The urchin's worthless!" Piangi howled, with Carlotta moaning and carrying on in Italian.
"Non dimenticherò mai questo, mai! Ubaldo, il mio amore, non li lascerò giocare in un'opera dove dovete corteggiare un uomo!" screamed Carlotta.
"Now be quiet!" Firmin ordered, "Madame Giry why won't you help-?"
"I wish I could! The Phantom is too strong and too fast, he-!"
"Like I said, Madame Giry, we lure him out with Christian on the stage and we shoot him". Jezebelle protested. Christian tried not to faint as he heard that. The thought of Erik being killed terrified him.
"Ché storia: il fantasma di opera vuole altri uomini e un tenore pietoso del chorus, il suo obiettivo principale, non sembra preoccuparsi!" Piangi crowed.
Christian turned pink with frustration... but from distress also. He urged himself to conceal the contempt that he had for them and what they were saying of Erik and himself.
"Come mai io sopporti pensare a così pensiero disgustoso come due uomini che fanno amore, e tanto meno il mio Ubaldo al Monsieur Christian Daaë? O Dio!" Carlotta howled.
Christian watched the argument in horror. He could be ruined if he stood up for Erik... if not, then Erik would die.
"What am I to do? There's no way out! I can't let my angel die...!" he thought, terrified.
The noise grew unbearably loud. Christian's eyes narrowed as they settled on Jezebelle.
"You!" he thought, infuriated, "You're the cause of this, you snake! Erik has killed nobody! He merely wants to be left alone!"
"STOP THIS AT ONCE! I CAN'T BEAR THIS ANYMORE!" he roared, his muscles taut, his face pinched with anger. Everybody looked at him.
"I will not do this. I refuse to play any part in this opera. I want nothing to do with your plan!" he gasped, trying to make his message loud and clear to all of those present.
"Monsieur Daaë, you must do this; we long to be rid of this ghost! I'm sure that you do too, as he apparently is infatuated with you." Andre stated the last few words dryly.
Christian scowled at him inwardly. "No, I want nothing to do with this. Do you understand me?"
"Erik is not infatuated with me, you imbeciles! He loves me! ... Leave him alone!"
"Christian, unless you are on his side, you would not refuse this. Why do you-?"
He stared at Jezebelle. He was certain now that she knew. He bristled.
"Be quiet, you wench!" he snapped, openly sneering at her.
"Well! Such ungallant behavior from such a fine young man! Perhaps you are on his side! Perhaps you want him to live!" Piangi taunted.
"Christian, we don't want this... thing lurking around and tormenting us anymore! You must sing!" Jezebelle's voice was hard, and then she batted her lashes at him and said sweetly, "For me?" Christian gritted his teeth, feeling sick to his stomach at the display that she put on.
"Well...?" Jezebelle asked innocently. "Well, Monsieur Daaë? Do you declare? Will you sing? This young lady appears eager for you to do so." Andre joined in.
Christian groaned. He knew that he didn't have much of a choice. Either way that he chose, he would risk so much... either he would be ruined or Erik would die. Now it had been forced upon him. He had to give in. Silently, he relented, cursing Jezebelle under his breath, tears pricking at his eyes as he thought that he and Erik were not free do do anything together as the couple that they were; no holding hands, no stealing a kiss, nothing, lest they be mocked or attacked or even both while the young male and female couples would not be given another glance.
He stormed out of the office in a huff, infuriated, sick to his stomach and with pain welling up in him, with Madame Giry following. Before Madame Giry left, however, she gave Jezebelle a very cold glare, her black eyes flashing like knives. Jezebelle ignored it like she'd been looking at somebody else.
"So, this Phantom will be gone, and I shall cure my childhood love of this illness that the Opera Ghost has placed on him!" Jezebelle thought gleefully. In her joy, she understood little of the pain that she had inflicted on her desired suitor.
