AUBER

FRA DIAVOLO

The English Lord Hardcash and his wife Pamela arrive at an inn in Southern Italy after a most unpleasant encounter.

PAMELA:

Oh, would this ghastly trip were over!

My very words as we left Dover.

I had acute migraine

Through Holland, France and Spain,

But Southern Italy’s the end!

With travel long exhausted,

By a bandit I’m accosted,

And the monster then proceeded

To relieve me of my luggage --

Absolutely all I needed.

And where were you, my friend?

Purgatory past enduring!

No more foreign ways for me.

No more travel, no more touring,

All I want’s a cup of tea.

They are soon to learn more about the notorious but elusive outlaw, Fra Diavolo:

ZERLINA:

On crags of lonely canyons,

He stands, alert and eagle-eyed;

There he scans the countryside,

Rifle and sword in tow.

Aloof, above companions,

He wields a staff of solid oak,

Wears a velvet cap and cloak

Black as the wintery crow.

Tremble, late wandering stranger!

You tread a path of danger

Near Fra Diavolo, Fra Diavolo, Fra Diavolo! . . .

Three bandits creep into the bedroom of the sleeping bride-to-be, who has just acquired a significant fortune, safely guarded under her pillow:

BANDITS:

Quietly tip-toe,

Soft as a mouse;

Stay button lipped, oh

Rouse not the house.

Breathe not a whisper,

Keep wide awake,

Each out for his per-

Cent of the take.

Silent and stealthy,

We’re on the job.

What are the wealthy

For but to rob?

Sly like the reptile,

Bold like the boar;

Men, watch your step till

Safe out the door.

Fra Diavolo, the bandit posing as nobility, is supremely self-confidant:

I’m master of my fate!

But the outcome depends

On a little help from my friends.

Though sterling all, with hearts of steel,

I stand alone at the wheel.

Outlaws united, men to the marrow,

Lift up your heads in manly pride.

(to audience)

You there that tread the path straight and narrow

Our daily bread and butter provide.

Lords all leap when I command it,

For like a mighty king I reign.

Sovereigns bow unto the bandit,

For all the world is my domain.

But he is forced to acknowledge that the bandit life has one fatal flaw:

Barely started, the ball is over,

And the fiddles are packed away.

The clown, the knave, the lover

Lead the dance for but a day.

My vocation you know full well, oh

But I beg you begrudge me not,

For time, the thievish fellow,

Comes at last for all you’ve got . . .