PUCCINI

 

LA RONDINE

 

 

 “Doretta’s Dream”, a song wherein the dreamer, a young, innocent girl, rejects the riches offered to her by a powerful king in favor of  true love:

 

PRUNIER:                        

Some may solve the riddle of Doretta’s dream, not I.

Try as I will to explain, it is still unclear.

Lo, behold!   The king while passing whispered with a sigh,

“Make me your lover!

Gold I can offer,

Jewels and splendor!

 

“Ah, lovely creature!    So fair, so tender!

No cause have you to fear.

Cry surrender

And your pangs of doubt will disappear.”

“No!”   she answered,  unpersuaded.

“True love cannot be traded,

And neither gold nor silver

Feed the starving heart.”

MAGDA:  (spoken)                                     

Why do you break off?

PRUNIER:                                            

I’ve not decided on an ending.

Supply it yourself, and you can claim the glory.

MAGDA:                                               

The challenge is tempting.

Perhaps I can conclude Doretta’s story.

(The song continues.)

Have you heard what next occurred in our Doretta’s dream?

Who could forget how they met and they danced all night,

Or the wonder and delight of kisses long and sweet,

 

Bursting with fire,

Born of desire,

Enkindled by passion?

Love in flower!   Fire of rapture!

What music can recapture

The tenderness conveyed

When lips of lovers meet?

OTHERS:  (Soken softly)               

(How delicious!   How delicious!

So exquisite!  So exquisite!)

 

MAGDA:                                          

Ah!   I’ve been dreaming all my life!

Who cares for pomp and power

When roses are in flower

And the skies are fair?

Of love,  dream on!

For I may find it there.

 

            The song reignites smoldering embers.   Magda recalls a  brief episode from a good many years ago that has often come back to haunt her:   a memorable night  when,  in a mood of reckless adventure,  she escaped from the eagle eye of her  stern, straight-laced old Auntie,  and took off by herself to a wildly romantic place in Paris called Bullier:

 

MAGDA:                                            

As always . . . A special dream

I never shall forget.

Ah!   On the one night  I escaped

From the eagle eye of my old auntie!

Like only yesterday!

Perhaps it could happen again tomorrow.

Perhaps . . .

Oh, the sweet, happy hours

Of looking and belonging

In the crowded confusion

Of a night at Bullier!

 

How I came?    There I was!

How I left?    Ask me not!

Unseen, someone sang to a rhythm subdued but insistent,

And the voice in the dark of the night

Seemed to say to me:

“Your season of love is in flower.

Eyes open for danger, oh children beware!

For honeysweet smiles and caresses

You’ll pay later on with your tears of despair.”

Seated after rounds of dancing,

I was happy though exhausted.

So dry and thirsty,

Yet my soul with delight was brimming over.

Doors opened, life grew larger

As my small world expanded . . .

 

 

Returning to Bullier to relive the past,  the dream indeed seems to come true.  Magda meets a young man unspoiled by the glamorous but corrupt city:

 

RUGGERO:                                               

Rather shy, unassuming,

You remind me of the girls back in Monteban,

As they dance to the throb

And the caress of our old-fashioned music,

So full of life and the joy of youth and beauty.

MAGDA:  (a bit ironic)                                 

A flattering portrayal.

RUGGERO:                                             

You laugh, but let me say it:

In the village where I’m from

The girls are lovely,

In harmony with nature.

No jewelry is needed.

Like yourself,  they require

Only a plain and simple flower ---

Like your own.

MAGDA:                                                     

If I only could dance

The way they dance back in Monteban!

RUGGERO:                                             

No time like the present!

MAGDA:                                                            

For learning?

You may find me an ungifted pupil.

RUGGERO:                                            

No,  no!    I will show you.

You’ll put them in the shadow.

MAGDA:                                                 

What a strange sensation ---

Living the past all over!

RUGGERO:                                                    

You’re saying? . . .

MAGDA:                                                          

I am overjoyed!

Lead on and I shall follow.

BOTH:                                            

Giving in to the rapture of the rhythm,

Lost in dreams,  I close my eyes.

Present and past misfortunes

Melt into sunlit skies.

Sorrows vanish

Swift as the swallow flies.

 

Magda says goodby to the rich banker to whom she has sold herself:

 

MAGDA:                           

And have you never thirsted for the fountain of love

As you stumbled through a barren desert?

Never found food and shelter

After long privation?

Can I refuse the gift that heaven offers?

 

Face up to it!

Our tawdry game is over.

Understand and forgive me.

You are hurt and I am sorry,

But love allows no stepping backward.

I shall follow my star!

 

 

            Ruggero,  the naive young man,  paints a glowing picture of their future life together:

 

Not far away, we’ll settle in the country,

A house and barn  surrounded by a meadow,

Sheltered by hills that catch the glow of morning,

Fading only when dusk has spread its shadow.

 

Our simple house that may seem like any other

Tender love will transform into a palace.

There hallowed by the spirit of my mother,

We’ll live untouched by the curse of greed or malice.

Then some day,  just a little later maybe,

I see us both in thrall and overpowered,

Turned captive by the cooings of a baby.

As it sleeps, angels  smiling down from heaven

Will provide loving guidance and protection,

With a shower  of  blessings on the tiny dreamer.

Make it so!            Make it so!

 

Magda knows,  to her own sorrow,  that this idyllic life can never be:

 

 

 

 

MAGDA:                                                     

I can only be your lover,

Your mistress, not the wife

So unworthy of your mother.

RUGGERO:                                   

Those words  are worse than torture,

Worse than fire and damnation.

Can I live without the love

That has revealed a world beyond

My cramped horizon?

Am I now to see that world

Reduced to rubble?

MAGDA:                                              

What surpasses the punishment

Of causing you to pay for my mistakes?

I am guilty;

I knew what I was doing.

Your mother’s house I shall never, never enter.

RUGGERO:                                           

No!   Reconsider.   No,  no!

Why bring further sorrow?

MAGDA:                                             

Your mother I’ll not dishonor.

I know that I must leave you

Because I love you.

Your life I’ll not destroy.

RUGGERO:                                         

No!    We can still be happy.

We can start all over.   No!

Love, how can you abandon what has barely started?

And why should life continue when we’re torn apart?

Recall the glow of rapture

That first time we found each other.

Love, do not break my heart.

MAGDA:                                                   

Grieve not in desperation

Even though we’ve parted.

Your life is far from over.

Love, remember me.

Recall the glow of rapture,

The good times we had together.

My heart I leave here with you.

RUGGERO:                                                      

Do not leave me.

Love can pull us through it.

MAGDA:                                            

You seek your own destruction.

RUGGERO:                                                 

No!   Stay with me!

Love will make us stronger.

MAGDA:                                           

You invite your own destruction.

Love, you alone know me truly, heart and soul,

For they are your alone,

Yours now and forever.

Now let me for a moment

Be a mother soothing her beloved son.

You will in time recover;

Peace will emerge from sorrow.

Go back home to a calmer, brighter future.

 

No rest for the swallow

Whose flight continues,

RUGGERO:                                                          

I love you!

MAGDA:                                                       

Headed homeward,

Where no golden dreams dare follow.

With a last tender, lingering look at Ruggero, who has collapsed in grief,  she slowly departs.