Turandot, Princess of China: A Chinoiserie in Three Acts

Turandot, Princess of China: A Chinoiserie in Three Acts

Twice already has the story gone over the boards: in 1762 in Venice as "Turandotte," one of the fiabe of Count Carlo Gozzi; in 1804 in Weimar, as Friedrich Schiller's "Turandot." Both versions lived their passing hour, and died to the stage. The present dramatisation of the ancient fablea modest attempt to cast good metal anewclosely follows the Italian of the sardonic nobleman whose bones have been mouldering by the blue lagoons for over a hundred years. BRIGELLA. (Behind the scenes.) Halt! Present arms! TRUFFALDINO. (Behind the scenes.) Halt! Slope swords! Open the gate! At ease! Quick march! (The gate is thrown open. TRUFFALDINO, leading the eunuchs; then, between PANTALONE and TARTAGLIA, the PRINCE OF SAMARKAND; behind them, at the head of his pages, BRIGELLA. The whole procession halts in front of the gate, they all draw up in one line, and gaze upwards at the bloody heads.) PANTALONE. (Stepping in front of the footlights.) My name is Pantalone, and I am a native of Venice. At the moment I am the Prime Minister of the Chinese Empire. Eh, what d'ye say? What I'm doing here in Pekin? H'm. (Puts his hand in front of his mouth.) Venice got too hot for me. An ind-indelicate affair. My wife of course, you guess my meaning. (To the PRINCE.) This, your Royal Highness, is the place you have heard so much of. Have a good look at it, please. Make yourself quite at home. Yes, quite right, up there, please! (To TARTAGLIA.) I say, my dear Lord Chancellor. Be so good as to show his Royal Highness the elevated position he will occupy in the near future. You have the information, I presume. (TARTAGLIA turns towards the PRINCE, PANTALONE pulls his sleeve.) Don't forget, my dear Lord Chancellor. TARTAGLIA. (Stepping in front of the footlights.) My name is Tat-Tra-Tartaglia (stammers). From Naples. My mother always maintained that she was the daughter of a Spanish grandee, but I fear she was a fisherman's daughter from Po-Po-Pozzuoli. My father, on the other hand (stops short and looks round) (PANTALONE makes signs to him.) PANTALONE. Better not. TARTAGLIA. Better not! That old scarecrow there makes out that nobody ever knew who my father was. He is a... li-li-liar. Excuse me, one moment, ladies and gentlemen. (To the Prince.) That head up there on the right, which I beg your Royal Highness graciously to observe, is the head of the valiant Prince of Hyrcania. A valiant prince, a sweet prince. But silly, silly. There's quite a nice open space next to him for you, a fine, sunny situation with a pleasant prospect. How would that do, eh? Company to your liking? All of 'em in the Almanach de Gotha. PANTALONE. (To BRIGELLA.) Send the executioner up with the pole. We'll let this charming young Prince select his own point of vantage. BRIGELLA. (To the headsman.) What are you hanging about here for, you hangman, you? Up on the wall with you, by Hikey Mo! Up on the wall or I'll wallop you. PANTALONE. Halt! 'Sh! Don't forget! BRIGELLA. (Stepping in front of the footlights.) I'm Brigella, begging your pardon. One of the old honest family of the Brigellas. As you can hear by the way I talk, I was born in Ferrara. There are lying rogues, drat 'em, as say as how you can tell any one that comes from Ferrara by his knavish face. Concerning my own person, though I says it as shouldn't, I've a heart of gold. Not half. Talking about gold now, you'll be wondering, sure enough, what brought me from Ferrara to Pekin. Well, now, it was a purse of gold, God bless ye! It was a little matter of two hundred florins that belonged to my employer, the celebrated Dr. Gratiano... PANTALONE. (Pulls his sleeve.) Better not! BRIGELLA. And now with this heart of gold of mine blest if I ain't got to conduct this broth of a boy, bless his honest face! to the block, by command of my mistress, the high and mighty Turandot ...the cru'l Turandot. (Sobs.) TRUFFALDINO. (Pushing BRIGELLA aside.) That's enough. Get out of that. A regular rogue. Standing there and talking about florins.... H'm! Regular rogue. (PANTALONE pulls his sleeve.) Ah! quite so. I am Truffaldino, by your leave. Truffaldino from the Giudeccao Quite so. (Turning towards BRIGELLA.) Regular rogue. It is monstrous that the dirtiest rascals should always get on best. I have not myself always had the best of luck in these parts... Would you believe it, my voice used to be a very fine, deep baritone. But now... (Sings falsetto): I am not young; I am not old; I live, yet have no life! Ask him who hath suffered woes untold From some volcanic strife Of passionate years, if he remember, Tombed in the grave of life's December, Its vanished golden June. What do you say about my voice? Lady-like? Well, yes, you see I've spent so much of my time in the society of ladies that I'm afraid my voice has assimilated the quality of theirs. (Sighs deeply.) Oh, yes. Not that there is any lack of good nourishment. Oh, no. Nor of liquid refreshment. Oh, no. Nor of refined and entertaining company. Oh, no. Nor could any one suggest that I am not in high favour. Oh, no. I have been appointed Chief... Inspector... Oh, no, no, Chief... Manager... Oh, no, no, no... Chief Administrator... Quite so! Chief Administrator of the Harem of her Imperial Highness the Princess Turandot. A position of distinction, a (PANTALONE pulls his sleeve, and drags him away.) PANTALONE. Confound you, sir!... (To the hangman, who has appeared on the wall.) Another inch or so to the right. Halt! a fine place that. TARTAGLIA. Too far to the right, my dear colleague. Much too far to the right. There's a fine place quite near there between the young Maharajah of Timbuctoo and the Crown Prince of Beluchistan. (To the headsman.) Just a shade fartherto the left, that's it, you've got itstraight up, straight up. Halt! PANTALONE. That will never do, my dear Lord Chancellor. That will never do. Really, we can't have three moustaches together. Back to the rightto the right. The Prince of Hyrcania is clean-shaven. His Royal Highness, the dear fellow, will have quite a martial appearance next to him. That's it, right in the middle. A little bit more to the front. Right you are. Halt! (To the Prince.) I do hope your Royal Highness is delighted with the situation we have been at such pains to select for you. Commanding position, don't you think? Eh? Very well, then, that's all right. Drive it in fast. Down with you. Quickmarch! And now, your Royal Highness, my dear old fellow, may we request the honour of your company back to town? We shall proceed, according to instructions, past the harem of our illustrious Princess to the place of execution. But you won't need to make-a, long stay there, you'll be back here again very shortly. Let me take this opportunity of introducing to you one of our most capable, one of our busiest officials, with whom you will soon come into closer contact. A very charming man(whispers to him). You'll find him sharp though, he has a cutting manner. ...But don't look so cut up, your Royal Highness; keep your pecker up. Come now, love hasn't treated you so badly after all; it brings most men to the altar and then to the halter you'll keep your head out of that noose anyhow. And your flame, your idolized, lovely Turandot, will perhaps do you the honour of appearing on the grated balcony. I tell you this in case you should by any chance desire to cast her one of your languishing glances, your Royal Highness, my dear old chappie. You silly fool you... Forward, march!... Forward, I tell you, march, and be damned to you! Right about turn, forward march! ......Buy Now (To Read More)

Product details

Ebook Number: 26730
Author: Gozzi, Carlo
Release Date: Sep 30, 2008
Format: eBook
Language: English

Contributors

Contributor (Author): Vollmöller, Karl, 1878-1948


Translator: Bithell, Jethro, 1878-1962