(no subject)
Sometimes I am so ridiculously romantic.
The viscount, therefore, remained in the room and watched Christine slowly return to life, while even the joint managers, Debienne and Poligny, who had some to offer their sympathy and congratulations, found themselves thrust back into the passage among the crowd of dandies. The Comte de Chagny, who was one of those standing outside, laughed:
'Oh the rogue, the rogue!' And he added, under his breath, 'Those youngsters with their school-girl airs! So he's a Chagny after all!'
He turned to go to Sorelli's dressing-room, but met her on the way, as we have seen, with her little troop of trembling girls.
Meanwhile, Christine Daaé uttered a deep sigh, which was answered by a groan.
She turned her head, saw Raoul and started. She looked at the doctor, on whom she bestowed a smile, then at her maid, then at Raoul again:
'Monsieur,' she said, in a voice not much above a whisper, 'who are you?'
'Mademoiselle,' replied the young man, kneeling on one knee and pressing a fervent kiss on the diva's hand, 'I am the little boy who went into the sea to rescue your scarf.'
Christine again looked at the doctor and the maid; and all three began to laugh. Raoul turned very red and stood up:
'Mademoiselle,' he said, 'since you are pleased not to recognize me, I should like to say something to you in private, something very important.'
'When I am better, do you mind?' And her voice shook. 'You have been very good.'
'Yes, you must go,' said the doctor, with his pleasantest smile. 'Leave me to attend to mademoiselle.'
'I am not ill now,' said Christine, suddenly, with strange and unexpected energy.
She rose and, passing her hand over her eyelids:
'Thank you, doctor....I should like to be alone....Please go away, all of you....Leave me....I feel very restless this evening....'
The doctor tried to make a short protest, but, perceiving the girl's evident agitation, thought that the best remedy was not to thwart her. And he went away, saying to Raoul outside:
'She is not herself to-night....She is usually so gentle....'
Then he said good night; and Raoul was left alone. The whole of this part of the theatre was now deserted. The farewell ceremony was no doubt taking place in the foyer of the ballet. Raoul thought that Daaé might go to it; and he waited in the silent solitude, even hid himself in the kindly shadow of a doorway. he still felt a terrible pain at his heart; and it was of this that he wished to speak to Daaé without delay.
Suddenly, the dressing-room door opened and the maid came out by herself, carrying bundles. he stopped her and asked how he mistress was. The woman laughed and said that she was quite well, but that he must not disturb her, for she wished to be left alone. And she passed on. A single idea crossed Raoul's burning brain: of course, Daaé wished to be left alone for him! Had he not told her that he wanted to speak to her privately?
Hardly breathing, he went up to the dressing-room and, with his ear to the door to catch her reply, prepared to knock. But his hand dropped. He had heard a man’s voice in the dressing-room, saying, in a curiously masterful tone:
‘Christine, you must love me!’
And Christine’s voice, infinitely sad and trembling, as though accompanied by tears, replied:
‘How can you talk like that? When I sing only for you?...’
Raoul leant against the panel to ease his pain. His heart, which had seemed gone for ever, returned to his breast and was throbbing loudly. The whole passage echoed with its beating; and Raoul’s ears were deafened. Surely, if his heart continued to make such a noise, they would hear it inside, they would open the door and the young man would be turned away in disgrace. What a position for a Chagny! To be caught listening behind a door! He seized his heart in his two hands to make it stop.
The man’s voice spoke again:
‘Are you very tired?’
‘On, to-night, I gave you my soul and I am dead!”
‘Your soul is a beautiful thing, child,’ replied the man’s grave voice, ‘and I thank you. No emperor ever recieved so fair a gift. The angels wept to-night.’
Raoul heard nothing after that. Nevertheless, he did not go away, but, as though fearing lest he should be discovered, returned to his dark corner, determined to wait for the man to leave the room. At one an the same time, he had learnt what love meant and hatred. He knew that he loved. he wanted to know whom he hated.
I apologize for any typos.
The viscount, therefore, remained in the room and watched Christine slowly return to life, while even the joint managers, Debienne and Poligny, who had some to offer their sympathy and congratulations, found themselves thrust back into the passage among the crowd of dandies. The Comte de Chagny, who was one of those standing outside, laughed:
'Oh the rogue, the rogue!' And he added, under his breath, 'Those youngsters with their school-girl airs! So he's a Chagny after all!'
He turned to go to Sorelli's dressing-room, but met her on the way, as we have seen, with her little troop of trembling girls.
Meanwhile, Christine Daaé uttered a deep sigh, which was answered by a groan.
She turned her head, saw Raoul and started. She looked at the doctor, on whom she bestowed a smile, then at her maid, then at Raoul again:
'Monsieur,' she said, in a voice not much above a whisper, 'who are you?'
'Mademoiselle,' replied the young man, kneeling on one knee and pressing a fervent kiss on the diva's hand, 'I am the little boy who went into the sea to rescue your scarf.'
Christine again looked at the doctor and the maid; and all three began to laugh. Raoul turned very red and stood up:
'Mademoiselle,' he said, 'since you are pleased not to recognize me, I should like to say something to you in private, something very important.'
'When I am better, do you mind?' And her voice shook. 'You have been very good.'
'Yes, you must go,' said the doctor, with his pleasantest smile. 'Leave me to attend to mademoiselle.'
'I am not ill now,' said Christine, suddenly, with strange and unexpected energy.
She rose and, passing her hand over her eyelids:
'Thank you, doctor....I should like to be alone....Please go away, all of you....Leave me....I feel very restless this evening....'
The doctor tried to make a short protest, but, perceiving the girl's evident agitation, thought that the best remedy was not to thwart her. And he went away, saying to Raoul outside:
'She is not herself to-night....She is usually so gentle....'
Then he said good night; and Raoul was left alone. The whole of this part of the theatre was now deserted. The farewell ceremony was no doubt taking place in the foyer of the ballet. Raoul thought that Daaé might go to it; and he waited in the silent solitude, even hid himself in the kindly shadow of a doorway. he still felt a terrible pain at his heart; and it was of this that he wished to speak to Daaé without delay.
Suddenly, the dressing-room door opened and the maid came out by herself, carrying bundles. he stopped her and asked how he mistress was. The woman laughed and said that she was quite well, but that he must not disturb her, for she wished to be left alone. And she passed on. A single idea crossed Raoul's burning brain: of course, Daaé wished to be left alone for him! Had he not told her that he wanted to speak to her privately?
Hardly breathing, he went up to the dressing-room and, with his ear to the door to catch her reply, prepared to knock. But his hand dropped. He had heard a man’s voice in the dressing-room, saying, in a curiously masterful tone:
‘Christine, you must love me!’
And Christine’s voice, infinitely sad and trembling, as though accompanied by tears, replied:
‘How can you talk like that? When I sing only for you?...’
Raoul leant against the panel to ease his pain. His heart, which had seemed gone for ever, returned to his breast and was throbbing loudly. The whole passage echoed with its beating; and Raoul’s ears were deafened. Surely, if his heart continued to make such a noise, they would hear it inside, they would open the door and the young man would be turned away in disgrace. What a position for a Chagny! To be caught listening behind a door! He seized his heart in his two hands to make it stop.
The man’s voice spoke again:
‘Are you very tired?’
‘On, to-night, I gave you my soul and I am dead!”
‘Your soul is a beautiful thing, child,’ replied the man’s grave voice, ‘and I thank you. No emperor ever recieved so fair a gift. The angels wept to-night.’
Raoul heard nothing after that. Nevertheless, he did not go away, but, as though fearing lest he should be discovered, returned to his dark corner, determined to wait for the man to leave the room. At one an the same time, he had learnt what love meant and hatred. He knew that he loved. he wanted to know whom he hated.
I apologize for any typos.