Orlando: An Opera in Five Hundred Years.
By Peter Aderhold and Sharon Joyce.
Based on the novel "Orlando" by Virginia Woolf.
ACT I, Scene I: Introduction
VIRGINIA [always spoken, not sung]:
The present. The past. And the future. All at once.
How many ages, how many hearts, beat in the human breast?
How many selves lie sleeping there?
A biographer wants to capture a life.
A biographer wants to get at the truth.
But the truth is more than just facts.
ORLANDO: Take that, barbarian…bobbing in the wind.
Lunge and plunge and slice the air… [strikes it down, hangs it up again]
Let me hang you higher
To give you a fair chance.
Grin at me with your shrunken dry lips?
Slain by great lords who fought great wars, built this house, planted this oak!
Crowns on their heads since they came out of the mists.
noble since they have been at all.
They struck heads of many colors from many shoulders.
And brought them home, to this house. To this oak.
I will carry it on…the family name. Repeat their glory. Make it immortal.
VIRGINIA: Orlando, your life has just begun. But the biographer has to tell the whole…
ORLANDO: Leaves in the wind. Wind in the leaves. So still, it stands. My oak.
VIRGINIA: How many pages to tell a life? Literature is one thing, but life is another.
Winds whirl though the leaves.
ORLANDO: My oak, my oak! My floating heart comes here to rest.
Virginia: Which path, which way, to fame and honor? Where shall you turn?
ORLANDO: Oh, to hurl myself through the summer air, crush acorns beneath my feet,
grasp the flower of danger growing in a crevice.
Wind in the leaves, leaves in the wind...
So still it stands, my oak. My oak!
VIRGINIA: Oh, Orlando.
Such restlessness, fidgeting. What makes you flutter and waver? Not only the wind.
Haunted, by life.
But what ...is...life?
To tell the story of a life, it’s an impossible task.
We could start, of course, with the facts. But the facts leave out so much, that what’s left is partly a fiction.
And when biographer is in love…
She wants to capture the (her) subject - body and soul.
Every expression, every digression,
the tumbling racing stream of thoughts
And the moods that change with the light.
Let us do our best to get at the truth.
ACT I, Scene II: ORLANDO AND THE QUEEN
QUEEN: Come, My innocent…
ORLANDO: Already! Am already late! Always already early or late. Never on time…
[Orlando, seeing the Queen, takes a bowl of rose water, goes to her and holds it to her hands.]
QUEEN: [kisses Orlando's head, then his cheeks]
The wind is picking up. Do you feel it?
'Tis the spirit of the age, It blows upon your cheeks.
First gently, then stronger.
Come closer, Orlando… just within reach. Let me see what you are made of.
Strength and grace! (approvingly)
ORLANDO: My virtues have caught the royal eye… Would your highness permit me to blush?
QUEEN: (sceptically) Folly and poetry.
ORLANDO: With virtue, comes vice.
QUEEN: Your eyes, so violet.
ORLANDO: All the better to see you with.
QUEEN: Your mouth, a red bow -
ORLANDO: To chant poems and verses.
QUEEN: These hands, are they skilled?
ORLANDO: That depends on the task
QUEEN: A strong and proud chest.
ORLANDO: It surrounds a loyal heart
QUEEN: This shapely knee…
ORLANDO: To kneel low, madam, before you.
QUEEN: Such hands as these are fit to wear one of my rings.
These violet eyes can survey my lands, and watch my back.
Guard my treasures. Protect my realms.
You may ask whatever you like. Nothing shall be denied you.
Name your wish!
ORLANDO: A sword to swing! A war to wage!
I must become a man. I want to see the world!
I want to lunge and plunge and strike with my blade
Strike heads off of shoulders, ride to africa, india, italy, france!
Do great deeds, hold high office, I want to rouse love and envy,
inspire poems and plays!
QUEEN: Wear my ring, not a sword!
I will bring the world to you.
Not wars, nor women, nor bloodied sword
will turn you into a man.
Wear my ring. It is I who will make you a man.
ORLANDO: Then show me the world and everything in it!
Let’s go riding and dancing, hunting and whoring, let’s take horses and foxes and head for the moors!
So many flowers, to be plucked before nightfall (admiring women of the court).
For the day is brief and the day is all. Let's go!
The time is short! So short.
QUEEN: Orlando, your time will be so long. So long.
VIRGINIA: But their plans were foiled. Because you know, the English weather can get particularly bad.
A cold wind blows from the blazing sun. Birds freeze in mid-air and fall like stones to the ground.
People are turning to ice where they stand!
QUEEN: Look, you see? It is simply too cold. Too cold to leave home!
Far too windy, too frosty and fierce.
VIRGINIA: Ravens perch stiffly, rats turn to stone. The river is slowing, its currents congealing
The fish are quite motionless, deep in a trance. The Great Frost has arrived-
ORLANDO: Even light is slowed down by this aching cold air.
Corpses are freezing and blocking the streets.
And the church…it is no help at all!
QUEEN: Build bonfires and candles! Saunas and skating rinks!
Watch that you don't catch your furs in the fire!
Spread sofas with sables, set balloons in the trees!
The world will come to us at last. [People start arriving, setting up tents, pavilions, musicians, etc.]
The world is coming here to us.
We’ll have carnivals.
ORLANDO: And funerals!
QUEEN: We’ll host admirals!
ORLANDO: And criminals! Rascals, and liberals, prodigals, animals.
QUEEN: Throw salt in the fire, line the river with silk!
The river is frozen, we’ll walk on the water.
The world will come to us.
The most brilliant and the most awful, from all over the land. All over the world.
O: The world will come to us at last.
VIRGINIA: Sunsets grew redder and more intense;
Dawns were whiter and brighter. The new king rose up, the old queen sank below the horizon. [Queen dies, King takes her place]
The carnival went on, and on...
HERALD (announcing royalty and visitors): His Majesty the King. Lord Kestrel, the Crested Earl of Kew. Lord Alberto and Lady Alberta.
VIRGINIA: The river was swept and decorated, with arbours, mazes, alleys,
Great statesmen in their beards and ruffs arrived under awnings.
Soldiers came to plan conquests and downfalls--under ostrich plumes.
Admirals strode up and down, glasses in hand, talking of Armadas
Lovers dallied on divans
Frozen roses fell in showers, whenever one walked
HERALD: The Malpais Delegation. The Marquess of Outer Gimbal.
VIRGINIA: The fires burned green, and orange and purple But the ice remained as hard as steel/stone/ivory.
Herald: The Russian Delegation!
[Enter SASHA].
ORLANDO: But what is this?
A melon, a pineapple?
An olive tree? An emerald.
A fox in the snow.
Partly a boy -- but no boy has a mouth like that;
No boy had those breasts;
or such eyes! Glowing, and fished from the bottom of the sea.
What is your name?
SASHA: Princessa Marousha Stanilovska Dagmar Natasha Iliana Romanovitch.
ORLANDO: Why must love always be so hard?
ACT I, Scene III: ORLANDO AND SASHA
[Tables and chairs appear, for dining. Seated there are the Queen, Sasha and Orlando, Various nobles. ]
SASHA: Как делишки?
ORLANDO: Yes. Delicious.
SASHA: Нет. Как делишки? Как дела?
ORLANDO: Yes, the roast is delicious!
SASHA: Non, non, pas ça, pas ça…
ORLANDO (tries all his languages):
Mais oui, c’est qui, c’est toi.. Кто ето? Штo ето? [Translate of his gibberish: "yes, its who, its you! What is she, and who?"]
Whom did I love? What have I loved, until now? Red-cheeked trolls, cruel – mouthed sluts. A nodding mass of lace and ceremony.
SASHA: (in awful French) La beaute des dames de la cour d’Angleterre me met dans le ravissement. N'est-ce pas?
ORLANDO: Sans doubt! (Happy to find she speaks french, he launches into some pompous poem in their 'common' language. )
“L’Éternel féminin m’attire, Mais je ne sais comment l’aimer. Beauté, te voir n’est qu’un martyre...”
SASHA: Auriez-vous la gentillesse de me passer le sel?
ORLANDO: Le sel. The salt. Bien sur. With all the pleasure in the world.
SASHA: Et ces cons la, qui dinent si près de nous? [Trans: Who are these idiots sitting so close to us?]
ORLANDO: These bumpkins here at our table are earls, your grace. Their manners are atrocious, indeed.
SASHA: Ce repas qui fait vomir, c'est qui ? [Trans: This meal that makes me vomit, what is it?]
ORLANDO: This sickening food is called roast lamb.
SASHA: Même chose, la-bas, par terre? [Trans: Same thing there on the ground?]
ORLANDO: Yes, the dogs are eating the same thing.
SASHA: Mais enfin, comment vivez-vous?! [Trans: But how can you live like this!?"]
ORLANDO: How did we live at all, without you? Thank heavens you've come. Shall we join the quadrille?
SASHA: Nyet! Take me away! I detest your English mob!
Always men smelling me. Women stare in my face.
I am bird in gold cage. They step on my feet.
Let’s visit city; the riff-raff and hooligans. Keep up! On y va! Pashli! (she hurls a snowball at him playfully)
ORLANDO: Attends! Je viens!
They skate away, into the forest, hurling snowballs as they go...eventually come to some deserted area
SASHA: Why here? Are we lost? Only snow, and dead birds!
I wish to see London. The Tower, St. Pauls! (she throws snowball).
ORLANDO: We’ve taken a detour, a short-cut. Are you cold?
My soft little fox! [He kisses her, she bites]. With teeth of steel!
And what else does she have? One hears things about Russians.
No hair on the chin, that’s good…not smeared with bear fat, that’s good…
But who are you waving at? Why are you smiling?
SASHA: The ship that we came on, the crew waits my orders…
ORLANDO: Tell them …you’ll stay her forever, with me!
SASHA: нет, никогда! Never! Not here! Is the worst. Is no place for Russians.
ORLANDO: Is Russia so different?
SASHA: (aria) In Russia, is different!
The land is quite empty.
See no one and nothing.
Winters are colder.
Horses are faster.
We hunt reindeer, not rabbits.
Drink vodka not tea
Fight bears, and not squirrels.
The men are so fierce
Cutting throats, here and there
Just as they please.
Oh! I miss it. I miss it!
I want to go home.
ORLANDO: My fox in the snow, my pet. [She bites him]
Show me your world. Teach me your tongue.
Another landscape, other words.
New words to describe you. On y va?
SASHA: Пошли, Поехали! [Trans: Let's go!}
ORLANDO: A minuit. Jour de ma vie! On se trouve a minuit. [Trans: At midnight, light of my life! Meet me at midnight!]
SASHA: Полдень! [At noon!] (She has misunderstood, or pretended to).
[Later, Orlando waits.]
ORLANDO: Snow, cream, marble, cherries, alabaster, golden wire?
She not like any one of these.
La neige? De la creme, du sel? [Transl: Like snow? cream, salt?]
Still not.
Sasha in life is one thing…Sasha in a poem, quite another.
Such a still night.
A hoof on a stone… Sasha?
A swish of silk… Sasha?
Our lanterns are trimmed,
Our horses are saddled,
Our pistols are primed.
Sasha? My emerald. My fox in the snow?
What is this, on my cheek. Du neige? A kiss?
Not Sasha ...but snow.
[Bells start chiming midnight.]
ORLANDO: She will come now. She must come now.
[More chimes.]
She will come now.
Before the last chime, she will…
[12th bell chimes]
She will never come.
VIRGINIA: The lover loves, then leaves.
Breaking free in the night.
Making fools of them all.
The river, once frozen,
Solid as ice, hard as stone,
the very ground beneath their feet
broke apart in the night.
Making fools of them all.
Rushing and roiling, littered with icebergs
It plotted a course of return to the sea.
Bonfires and skating rinks
saunas and dancing floors
All of them ruthlessly swept to the sea.
Bedsteads and blankets,
curses and promises,
Housecats and newlyweds
All inexorably washed to the sea.
Some perished, more vanished.
Dreams were relinquished
The city demolished
And the ship of the infamous Muscovite Princess
Was nowhere in sight
It had hoisted its anchor
And sailed with the light.
***
ACT I, SCENE IV: NICK GREENE
Orlando is alone, in his home, trying to forget Sasha and get on with life.
ORLANDO: Exiled from court. In deep disgrace.
Alll for a love than blazed and burned, then burned away.
leaving nothing but ashes and scars.
The lying fox, conniving and wild!
Who needs the love of a woman! Faithless and fickle!
But my bed has grown so cold….
[To his butler] James, go and fetch me the finest of hounds
Soon, I’ll have all I need. My library, a companion, a flagon of whisky.
The latest novella from London…
[Sits and begins his novel].
So pompous and florid, this Nicolas Greene. I can surely do better!
James! Some paper and pen.
A man’s words are immortal, though his deeds and his loves turn to ashes and dust.
[Begins writing.] 'The sky is green'. Voila, not bad!
Perhaps I shall be the first poet of my line. Make the family name immortal.
Let’s see what he’ll think, this poet, this critic, this Greene.
NICK GREENE arrives.
ORLANDO: Mr. Nicolas Green.
GREENE: Greene, not Green. With an E at the end.
ORLANDO: The noble family of Greene. …quite unknown in these parts.
GREENE: It’s true that our fortune was lost in the wars.
Our stables burnt, our banners misplaced…
The name alone has survived. Greene…with an E! E as in glory!
ORLANDO: My family also …has come to nothing.
Our deeds are dust and ashes. The mansion lies empty…
mere piles of silver, bones in the cellar, trophies of war hung high.
But not one line of poetry….to our name.
I shall be the first--
GREENE: Poetry…. It’s not for everyone. It’s for Men of taste, men of glory...... men whose names end with E.
ORLANDO: Poetry…wild as wind, hot as fire. I have here some verses of my own-
GREENE: Over dinner, my boy, dinner and wine. One’s best thinking is best done at the table, don’t you agree? That’s true at least for writers; a lord might be different; they often snore over their wine and hate to be woken. Let’s see which you are…
ORLANDO: Perhaps now you’d like to read my work-?
NICK [mishears]: “Pass the duck?”
ORLANDO: Read my work! [Hands him some papers.]
GREENE: Might I have another wing? Here, I’ll serve myself.
[Eats and reads, sloppily].
I see, I see! You’ve scribbled and scrawled…till your fingers bled!
A masterpiece, is it? Your labor of love…of folly and youth.
Your passions, your fears, your own path to the truth?
'Life is a dream and we kill it on waking'
[Wipes fingers on pages.]
I’ll tell you what’s being killed. Poetry herself. You’ve made her a pale stiff corpse.
What more should I say? Give it up!
ACT I, Scene V: CONSTANTINOPLE
VIRGINIA: A conventional life so far, as you see. First disappointment in love, then failure in art.
His youthful dreams had come to nothing and he didn't know where to turn.
Fortunately, Orlando had friends in high places. Very high.
The English crown appointed him ambassador to the Orient. The far east promised adventure, mystery, and profits.
Unfortunately, very little is known of this entire period. We have only rumors…
Shift scene to Constantinople, the English embassy. Orlando is in his chambers, dressed in full diplomatic attire, smoking, looking over papers.
Rumors [intermingling voices of the city's inhabitants] swirl around him.
RUMORS:
He�
VIRGINIA [always spoken, not sung]:
The present. The past. And the future. All at once.
How many ages, how many hearts, beat in the human breast?
How many selves lie sleeping there?
A biographer wants to capture a life.
A biographer wants to get at the truth.
But the truth is more than just facts.
ORLANDO: Take that, barbarian…bobbing in the wind.
Lunge and plunge and slice the air… [strikes it down, hangs it up again]
Let me hang you higher
To give you a fair chance.
Grin at me with your shrunken dry lips?
Slain by great lords who fought great wars, built this house, planted this oak!
Crowns on their heads since they came out of the mists.
noble since they have been at all.
They struck heads of many colors from many shoulders.
And brought them home, to this house. To this oak.
I will carry it on…the family name. Repeat their glory. Make it immortal.
VIRGINIA: Orlando, your life has just begun. But the biographer has to tell the whole…
ORLANDO: Leaves in the wind. Wind in the leaves. So still, it stands. My oak.
VIRGINIA: How many pages to tell a life? Literature is one thing, but life is another.
Winds whirl though the leaves.
ORLANDO: My oak, my oak! My floating heart comes here to rest.
Virginia: Which path, which way, to fame and honor? Where shall you turn?
ORLANDO: Oh, to hurl myself through the summer air, crush acorns beneath my feet,
grasp the flower of danger growing in a crevice.
Wind in the leaves, leaves in the wind...
So still it stands, my oak. My oak!
VIRGINIA: Oh, Orlando.
Such restlessness, fidgeting. What makes you flutter and waver? Not only the wind.
Haunted, by life.
But what ...is...life?
To tell the story of a life, it’s an impossible task.
We could start, of course, with the facts. But the facts leave out so much, that what’s left is partly a fiction.
And when biographer is in love…
She wants to capture the (her) subject - body and soul.
Every expression, every digression,
the tumbling racing stream of thoughts
And the moods that change with the light.
Let us do our best to get at the truth.
ACT I, Scene II: ORLANDO AND THE QUEEN
QUEEN: Come, My innocent…
ORLANDO: Already! Am already late! Always already early or late. Never on time…
[Orlando, seeing the Queen, takes a bowl of rose water, goes to her and holds it to her hands.]
QUEEN: [kisses Orlando's head, then his cheeks]
The wind is picking up. Do you feel it?
'Tis the spirit of the age, It blows upon your cheeks.
First gently, then stronger.
Come closer, Orlando… just within reach. Let me see what you are made of.
Strength and grace! (approvingly)
ORLANDO: My virtues have caught the royal eye… Would your highness permit me to blush?
QUEEN: (sceptically) Folly and poetry.
ORLANDO: With virtue, comes vice.
QUEEN: Your eyes, so violet.
ORLANDO: All the better to see you with.
QUEEN: Your mouth, a red bow -
ORLANDO: To chant poems and verses.
QUEEN: These hands, are they skilled?
ORLANDO: That depends on the task
QUEEN: A strong and proud chest.
ORLANDO: It surrounds a loyal heart
QUEEN: This shapely knee…
ORLANDO: To kneel low, madam, before you.
QUEEN: Such hands as these are fit to wear one of my rings.
These violet eyes can survey my lands, and watch my back.
Guard my treasures. Protect my realms.
You may ask whatever you like. Nothing shall be denied you.
Name your wish!
ORLANDO: A sword to swing! A war to wage!
I must become a man. I want to see the world!
I want to lunge and plunge and strike with my blade
Strike heads off of shoulders, ride to africa, india, italy, france!
Do great deeds, hold high office, I want to rouse love and envy,
inspire poems and plays!
QUEEN: Wear my ring, not a sword!
I will bring the world to you.
Not wars, nor women, nor bloodied sword
will turn you into a man.
Wear my ring. It is I who will make you a man.
ORLANDO: Then show me the world and everything in it!
Let’s go riding and dancing, hunting and whoring, let’s take horses and foxes and head for the moors!
So many flowers, to be plucked before nightfall (admiring women of the court).
For the day is brief and the day is all. Let's go!
The time is short! So short.
QUEEN: Orlando, your time will be so long. So long.
VIRGINIA: But their plans were foiled. Because you know, the English weather can get particularly bad.
A cold wind blows from the blazing sun. Birds freeze in mid-air and fall like stones to the ground.
People are turning to ice where they stand!
QUEEN: Look, you see? It is simply too cold. Too cold to leave home!
Far too windy, too frosty and fierce.
VIRGINIA: Ravens perch stiffly, rats turn to stone. The river is slowing, its currents congealing
The fish are quite motionless, deep in a trance. The Great Frost has arrived-
ORLANDO: Even light is slowed down by this aching cold air.
Corpses are freezing and blocking the streets.
And the church…it is no help at all!
QUEEN: Build bonfires and candles! Saunas and skating rinks!
Watch that you don't catch your furs in the fire!
Spread sofas with sables, set balloons in the trees!
The world will come to us at last. [People start arriving, setting up tents, pavilions, musicians, etc.]
The world is coming here to us.
We’ll have carnivals.
ORLANDO: And funerals!
QUEEN: We’ll host admirals!
ORLANDO: And criminals! Rascals, and liberals, prodigals, animals.
QUEEN: Throw salt in the fire, line the river with silk!
The river is frozen, we’ll walk on the water.
The world will come to us.
The most brilliant and the most awful, from all over the land. All over the world.
O: The world will come to us at last.
VIRGINIA: Sunsets grew redder and more intense;
Dawns were whiter and brighter. The new king rose up, the old queen sank below the horizon. [Queen dies, King takes her place]
The carnival went on, and on...
HERALD (announcing royalty and visitors): His Majesty the King. Lord Kestrel, the Crested Earl of Kew. Lord Alberto and Lady Alberta.
VIRGINIA: The river was swept and decorated, with arbours, mazes, alleys,
Great statesmen in their beards and ruffs arrived under awnings.
Soldiers came to plan conquests and downfalls--under ostrich plumes.
Admirals strode up and down, glasses in hand, talking of Armadas
Lovers dallied on divans
Frozen roses fell in showers, whenever one walked
HERALD: The Malpais Delegation. The Marquess of Outer Gimbal.
VIRGINIA: The fires burned green, and orange and purple But the ice remained as hard as steel/stone/ivory.
Herald: The Russian Delegation!
[Enter SASHA].
ORLANDO: But what is this?
A melon, a pineapple?
An olive tree? An emerald.
A fox in the snow.
Partly a boy -- but no boy has a mouth like that;
No boy had those breasts;
or such eyes! Glowing, and fished from the bottom of the sea.
What is your name?
SASHA: Princessa Marousha Stanilovska Dagmar Natasha Iliana Romanovitch.
ORLANDO: Why must love always be so hard?
ACT I, Scene III: ORLANDO AND SASHA
[Tables and chairs appear, for dining. Seated there are the Queen, Sasha and Orlando, Various nobles. ]
SASHA: Как делишки?
ORLANDO: Yes. Delicious.
SASHA: Нет. Как делишки? Как дела?
ORLANDO: Yes, the roast is delicious!
SASHA: Non, non, pas ça, pas ça…
ORLANDO (tries all his languages):
Mais oui, c’est qui, c’est toi.. Кто ето? Штo ето? [Translate of his gibberish: "yes, its who, its you! What is she, and who?"]
Whom did I love? What have I loved, until now? Red-cheeked trolls, cruel – mouthed sluts. A nodding mass of lace and ceremony.
SASHA: (in awful French) La beaute des dames de la cour d’Angleterre me met dans le ravissement. N'est-ce pas?
ORLANDO: Sans doubt! (Happy to find she speaks french, he launches into some pompous poem in their 'common' language. )
“L’Éternel féminin m’attire, Mais je ne sais comment l’aimer. Beauté, te voir n’est qu’un martyre...”
SASHA: Auriez-vous la gentillesse de me passer le sel?
ORLANDO: Le sel. The salt. Bien sur. With all the pleasure in the world.
SASHA: Et ces cons la, qui dinent si près de nous? [Trans: Who are these idiots sitting so close to us?]
ORLANDO: These bumpkins here at our table are earls, your grace. Their manners are atrocious, indeed.
SASHA: Ce repas qui fait vomir, c'est qui ? [Trans: This meal that makes me vomit, what is it?]
ORLANDO: This sickening food is called roast lamb.
SASHA: Même chose, la-bas, par terre? [Trans: Same thing there on the ground?]
ORLANDO: Yes, the dogs are eating the same thing.
SASHA: Mais enfin, comment vivez-vous?! [Trans: But how can you live like this!?"]
ORLANDO: How did we live at all, without you? Thank heavens you've come. Shall we join the quadrille?
SASHA: Nyet! Take me away! I detest your English mob!
Always men smelling me. Women stare in my face.
I am bird in gold cage. They step on my feet.
Let’s visit city; the riff-raff and hooligans. Keep up! On y va! Pashli! (she hurls a snowball at him playfully)
ORLANDO: Attends! Je viens!
They skate away, into the forest, hurling snowballs as they go...eventually come to some deserted area
SASHA: Why here? Are we lost? Only snow, and dead birds!
I wish to see London. The Tower, St. Pauls! (she throws snowball).
ORLANDO: We’ve taken a detour, a short-cut. Are you cold?
My soft little fox! [He kisses her, she bites]. With teeth of steel!
And what else does she have? One hears things about Russians.
No hair on the chin, that’s good…not smeared with bear fat, that’s good…
But who are you waving at? Why are you smiling?
SASHA: The ship that we came on, the crew waits my orders…
ORLANDO: Tell them …you’ll stay her forever, with me!
SASHA: нет, никогда! Never! Not here! Is the worst. Is no place for Russians.
ORLANDO: Is Russia so different?
SASHA: (aria) In Russia, is different!
The land is quite empty.
See no one and nothing.
Winters are colder.
Horses are faster.
We hunt reindeer, not rabbits.
Drink vodka not tea
Fight bears, and not squirrels.
The men are so fierce
Cutting throats, here and there
Just as they please.
Oh! I miss it. I miss it!
I want to go home.
ORLANDO: My fox in the snow, my pet. [She bites him]
Show me your world. Teach me your tongue.
Another landscape, other words.
New words to describe you. On y va?
SASHA: Пошли, Поехали! [Trans: Let's go!}
ORLANDO: A minuit. Jour de ma vie! On se trouve a minuit. [Trans: At midnight, light of my life! Meet me at midnight!]
SASHA: Полдень! [At noon!] (She has misunderstood, or pretended to).
[Later, Orlando waits.]
ORLANDO: Snow, cream, marble, cherries, alabaster, golden wire?
She not like any one of these.
La neige? De la creme, du sel? [Transl: Like snow? cream, salt?]
Still not.
Sasha in life is one thing…Sasha in a poem, quite another.
Such a still night.
A hoof on a stone… Sasha?
A swish of silk… Sasha?
Our lanterns are trimmed,
Our horses are saddled,
Our pistols are primed.
Sasha? My emerald. My fox in the snow?
What is this, on my cheek. Du neige? A kiss?
Not Sasha ...but snow.
[Bells start chiming midnight.]
ORLANDO: She will come now. She must come now.
[More chimes.]
She will come now.
Before the last chime, she will…
[12th bell chimes]
She will never come.
VIRGINIA: The lover loves, then leaves.
Breaking free in the night.
Making fools of them all.
The river, once frozen,
Solid as ice, hard as stone,
the very ground beneath their feet
broke apart in the night.
Making fools of them all.
Rushing and roiling, littered with icebergs
It plotted a course of return to the sea.
Bonfires and skating rinks
saunas and dancing floors
All of them ruthlessly swept to the sea.
Bedsteads and blankets,
curses and promises,
Housecats and newlyweds
All inexorably washed to the sea.
Some perished, more vanished.
Dreams were relinquished
The city demolished
And the ship of the infamous Muscovite Princess
Was nowhere in sight
It had hoisted its anchor
And sailed with the light.
***
ACT I, SCENE IV: NICK GREENE
Orlando is alone, in his home, trying to forget Sasha and get on with life.
ORLANDO: Exiled from court. In deep disgrace.
Alll for a love than blazed and burned, then burned away.
leaving nothing but ashes and scars.
The lying fox, conniving and wild!
Who needs the love of a woman! Faithless and fickle!
But my bed has grown so cold….
[To his butler] James, go and fetch me the finest of hounds
Soon, I’ll have all I need. My library, a companion, a flagon of whisky.
The latest novella from London…
[Sits and begins his novel].
So pompous and florid, this Nicolas Greene. I can surely do better!
James! Some paper and pen.
A man’s words are immortal, though his deeds and his loves turn to ashes and dust.
[Begins writing.] 'The sky is green'. Voila, not bad!
Perhaps I shall be the first poet of my line. Make the family name immortal.
Let’s see what he’ll think, this poet, this critic, this Greene.
NICK GREENE arrives.
ORLANDO: Mr. Nicolas Green.
GREENE: Greene, not Green. With an E at the end.
ORLANDO: The noble family of Greene. …quite unknown in these parts.
GREENE: It’s true that our fortune was lost in the wars.
Our stables burnt, our banners misplaced…
The name alone has survived. Greene…with an E! E as in glory!
ORLANDO: My family also …has come to nothing.
Our deeds are dust and ashes. The mansion lies empty…
mere piles of silver, bones in the cellar, trophies of war hung high.
But not one line of poetry….to our name.
I shall be the first--
GREENE: Poetry…. It’s not for everyone. It’s for Men of taste, men of glory...... men whose names end with E.
ORLANDO: Poetry…wild as wind, hot as fire. I have here some verses of my own-
GREENE: Over dinner, my boy, dinner and wine. One’s best thinking is best done at the table, don’t you agree? That’s true at least for writers; a lord might be different; they often snore over their wine and hate to be woken. Let’s see which you are…
ORLANDO: Perhaps now you’d like to read my work-?
NICK [mishears]: “Pass the duck?”
ORLANDO: Read my work! [Hands him some papers.]
GREENE: Might I have another wing? Here, I’ll serve myself.
[Eats and reads, sloppily].
I see, I see! You’ve scribbled and scrawled…till your fingers bled!
A masterpiece, is it? Your labor of love…of folly and youth.
Your passions, your fears, your own path to the truth?
'Life is a dream and we kill it on waking'
[Wipes fingers on pages.]
I’ll tell you what’s being killed. Poetry herself. You’ve made her a pale stiff corpse.
What more should I say? Give it up!
ACT I, Scene V: CONSTANTINOPLE
VIRGINIA: A conventional life so far, as you see. First disappointment in love, then failure in art.
His youthful dreams had come to nothing and he didn't know where to turn.
Fortunately, Orlando had friends in high places. Very high.
The English crown appointed him ambassador to the Orient. The far east promised adventure, mystery, and profits.
Unfortunately, very little is known of this entire period. We have only rumors…
Shift scene to Constantinople, the English embassy. Orlando is in his chambers, dressed in full diplomatic attire, smoking, looking over papers.
Rumors [intermingling voices of the city's inhabitants] swirl around him.
RUMORS:
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