The Phantom of the Opera
"Well, has the ghost whispered a word in your ear yet?"
"Wait, don't be in such a hurry," replied M. Armand Moncharmin, in the
same gay tone. "The performance has only begun and you know that the
ghost does not usually come until the middle of the first act."
The first act passed without incident, which did not surprise
Carlotta's friends, because Margarita does not sing in this act. As
for the managers, they looked at each other, when the curtain fell.
"That's one!" said Moncharmin.
"Yes, the ghost is late," said Firmin Richard.
"It's not a bad house," said Moncharmin, "for 'a house with a curse on
it.'"
M. Richard smiled and pointed to a fat, rather vulgar woman, dressed in
black, sitting in a stall in the middle of the auditorium with a man in
a broadcloth frock-coat on either side of her.
"Who on earth are 'those?'" asked Moncharmin.
"'Those,' my dear fellow, are my concierge, her husband and her
brother."
"Did you give them their tickets?"
"I did ... My concierge had never been to the Opera--this is, the first
time--and, as she is now going to come every night, I wanted her to
have a good seat, before spending her time showing other people to
theirs."
Moncharmin asked what he meant and Richard answered that he had
persuaded his concierge, in whom he had the greatest confidence, to
come and take Mme. Giry's place. Yes, he would like to see if, with
that woman instead of the old lunatic, Box Five would continue to
astonish the natives?
"By the way," said Moncharmin, "you know that Mother Giry is going to
lodge a complaint against you."
"With whom? The ghost?"
The ghost! Moncharmin had almost forgotten him. However, that
mysterious person did nothing to bring himself to the memory of the
managers; and they were just saying so to each other for the second
time, when the door of the box suddenly opened to admit the startled
stage-manager.
"What's the matter?" they both asked, amazed at seeing him there at
such a time.
"It seems there's a plot got up by Christine Daae's friends against
Carlotta. Carlotta's furious."
"What on earth ... ?" said Richard, knitting his brows.
But the curtain rose on the kermess scene and Richard made a sign to
the stage-manager to go away. When the two were alone again,
Moncharmin leaned over to Richard:
"Then Daae has friends?" he asked.
"Yes, she has."
"Whom?"
Richard glanced across at a box on the grand tier containing no one but
two men.
"The Comte de Chagny?"
"Yes, he spoke to me in her favor with such warmth that, if I had not
known him to be Sorelli's friend ..."
"Really? Really?" said Moncharmin. "And who is that pale young man
beside him?"
"That's his brother, the viscount."
"He ought to be in his bed. He looks ill."
The stage rang with gay song:
"Red or white liquor,
Coarse or fine!
What can it matter,
So we have wine?"
Students, citizens, soldiers, girls and matrons whirled light-heartedly
before the inn with the figure of Bacchus for a sign. Siebel made her
entrance. Christine Daae looked charming in her boy's clothes; and
Carlotta's partisans expected to hear her greeted with an ovation which
would have enlightened them as to the intentions of her friends. But
nothing happened.
On the other hand, when Margarita crossed the stage and sang the only
two lines allotted her in this second act:
"No, my lord, not a lady am I, nor yet a beauty,
And do not need an arm to help me on my way,"
Carlotta was received with enthusiastic applause. It was so unexpected
and so uncalled for that those who knew nothing about the rumors looked
at one another and asked what was happening. And this act also was
finished without incident.
Then everybody said: "Of course, it will be during the next act."
Some, who seemed to be better informed than the rest, declared that the
"row" would begin with the ballad of the KING OF THULE and rushed to
the subscribers' entrance to warn Carlotta. The managers left the box
during the entr'acte to find out more about the cabal of which the
stage-manager had spoken; but they soon returned to their seats,
shrugging their shoulders and treating the whole affair as silly.
The first thing they saw, on entering the box, was a box of English
sweets on the little shelf of the ledge. Who had put it there? They
asked the box-keepers, but none of them knew. Then they went back to
the shelf and, next to the box of sweets, found an opera glass. They
looked at each other. They had no inclination to laugh. All that Mme.
Giry had told them returned to their memory ... and then ... and then
... they seemed to feel a curious sort of draft around them ... They
sat down in silence.
The scene represented Margarita's garden:
"Gentle flow'rs in the dew,
Be message from me ..."
As she sang these first two lines, with her bunch of roses and lilacs
in her hand, Christine, raising her head, saw the Vicomte de Chagny in
his box; and, from that moment, her voice seemed less sure, less
crystal-clear than usual. Something seemed to deaden and dull her
singing...
"What a queer girl she is!" said one of Carlotta's friends in the
stalls, almost aloud. "The other day she was divine; and to-night
she's simply bleating. She has no experience, no training."
"Gentle flow'rs, lie ye there
And tell her from me ..."
The viscount put his head under his hands and wept. The count, behind
him, viciously gnawed his mustache, shrugged his shoulders and frowned.
For him, usually so cold and correct, to betray his inner feelings like
that, by outward signs, the count must be very angry. He was. He had
seen his brother return from a rapid and mysterious journey in an
alarming state of health. The explanation that followed was
unsatisfactory and the count asked Christine Daae for an appointment.
She had the audacity to reply that she could not see either him or his
brother...
"Would she but deign to hear me
And with one smile to cheer me ..."
"The little baggage!" growled the count.
And he wondered what she wanted. What she was hoping for... She was a
virtuous girl, she was said to have no friend, no protector of any sort
... That angel from the North must be very artful!
Raoul, behind the curtain of his hands that veiled his boyish tears,
thought only of the letter which he received on his return to Paris,
where Christine, fleeing from Perros like a thief in the night, had
arrived before him:
MY DEAR LITTLE PLAYFELLOW:
You must have the courage not to see me again, not to speak of me
again. If you love me just a little, do this for me, for me who will
never forget you, my dear Raoul. My life depends upon it. Your life
depends upon it. YOUR LITTLE CHRISTINE.
Thunders of applause. Carlotta made her entrance.
"I wish I could but know who was he
That addressed me,
If he was noble, or, at least, what his name is ..."
When Margarita had finished singing the ballad of the KING OF THULE,
she was loudly cheered and again when she came to the end of the jewel
song:
"Ah, the joy of past compare
These jewels bright to wear! ..."
Thenceforth, certain of herself, certain of her friends in the house,
certain of her voice and her success, fearing nothing, Carlotta flung
herself into her part without restraint of modesty ... She was no
longer Margarita, she was Carmen. She was applauded all the more; and
her debut with Faust seemed about to bring her a new success, when
suddenly ... a terrible thing happened.
Faust had knelt on one knee:
"Let me gaze on the form below me,
While from yonder ether blue
Look how the star of eve, bright and tender,
lingers o'er me,
To love thy beauty too!"
And Margarita replied:
"Oh, how strange!
Like a spell does the evening bind me!
And a deep languid charm
I feel without alarm
With its melody enwind me
And all my heart subdue."
At that moment, at that identical moment, the terrible thing
happened... Carlotta croaked like a toad:
"Co-ack!"
There was consternation on Carlotta's face and consternation on the
faces of all the audience. The two managers in their box could not
suppress an exclamation of horror. Every one felt that the thing was
not natural, that there was witchcraft behind it. That toad smelt of
brimstone. Poor, wretched, despairing, crushed Carlotta!
The uproar in the house was indescribable. If the thing had happened
to any one but Carlotta, she would have been hooted. But everybody
knew how perfect an instrument her voice was; and there was no display
of anger, but only of horror and dismay, the sort of dismay which men
would have felt if they had witnessed the catastrophe that broke the
arms of the Venus de Milo... And even then they would have seen ...
and understood ...
But here that toad was incomprehensible! So much so that, after some
seconds spent in asking herself if she had really heard that note, that
sound, that infernal noise issue from her throat, she tried to persuade
herself that it was not so, that she was the victim of an illusion, an
illusion of the ear, and not of an act of treachery on the part of her
voice....
Meanwhile, in Box Five, Moncharmin and Richard had turned very pale.
This extraordinary and inexplicable incident filled them with a dread
which was the more mysterious inasmuch as for some little while, they
had fallen within the direct influence of the ghost. They had felt his
breath. Moncharmin's hair stood on end. Richard wiped the
perspiration from his forehead. Yes, the ghost was there, around them,
behind them, beside them; they felt his presence without seeing him,
they heard his breath, close, close, close to them! ... They were sure
that there were three people in the box ... They trembled ... They
thought of running away ... They dared not ... They dared not make a
movement or exchange a word that would have told the ghost that they
knew that he was there! ... What was going to happen?
This happened.
"Co-ack!" Their joint exclamation of horror was heard all over the
house. THEY FELT THAT THEY WERE SMARTING UNDER THE GHOST'S ATTACKS.
Leaning over the ledge of their box, they stared at Carlotta as though
they did not recognize her. That infernal girl must have given the
signal for some catastrophe. Ah, they were waiting for the
catastrophe! The ghost had told them it would come! The house had a
curse upon it! The two managers gasped and panted under the weight of
the catastrophe. Richard's stifled voice was heard calling to Carlotta:
"Well, go on!"
No, Carlotta did not go on ... Bravely, heroically, she started afresh
on the fatal line at the end of which the toad had appeared.
An awful silence succeeded the uproar. Carlotta's voice alone once
more filled the resounding house:
"I feel without alarm ..."
The audience also felt, but not without alarm. ..
"I feel without alarm ...
I feel without alarm--co-ack!
With its melody enwind me--co-ack!
And all my heart sub--co-ack!"
The toad also had started afresh!
The house broke into a wild tumult. The two managers collapsed in
their chairs and dared not even turn round; they had not the strength;
the ghost was chuckling behind their backs! And, at last, they
distinctly heard his voice in their right ears, the impossible voice,
the mouthless voice, saying:
"SHE IS SINGING TO-NIGHT TO BRING THE CHANDELIER DOWN!"
With one accord, they raised their eyes to the ceiling and uttered a