Orphée (French Edition)


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Although I have been in love with movies since I was aged four, my mature appreciation and devotion began when I was an intellectually snobbish sixth-former. Most of the films I truly respected then were silent or subtitled, seen in austere provincial art-houses and from the hard benches of film societies. A particularly attractive aspect was its apparent obscurity, an essential aspect, so it seemed to me at the time, of serious art. Many movies I admired in my youth have lost their lustre, and quite a few I despised have greatly gained in stature.

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This is because whatever Cocteau did as a novelist, playwright, artist and filmmaker was essentially the work of a poet, and this is a poetic movie. You will be the consolation to the poor prisoner. But see how graceful, what beautiful colors, what a fine waist, and those golden wings, kisses him. Well, all this is thine if you will, adored mortal! In reality I am not a fly. I have assumed that disguise in order to deceive the jealousy of a tyrant who will torture you. Bluebeard Jupiter. I would have taken you to Olympia. Let us fly! Take me with you!

There is only one way not to throw off suspicion. I must return to the fete given by the idiot Pluto, meet me there under disguise, and when they will all be engrossed by the festivities, mix with my colleagues and I will fly with you. The gods will what woman wills. Yours, Jupiter, forever! In one hour! I am a happy insect, buzzing around. John enters with a flask in his hand. Running after Jupiter as if trying to catch a fly.

Jupiter escapes—John comes to the footlights and sings with sentiment:. All excited enters from the back room. Where is the fly? John have you seen the fly?

Jupiter, whom smart little Cupido has recognized under the disguise of a fly! Look at me a little. John, my dear John. It is I, Pluto, thy good master. Remember, remember—on thine own ashes. Perhaps were I to speak with him some other language he might remember. Vergiss mein nicht. Voice of Eurydicea singing, Beautiful insect with golden wings. She has not gone yet. Double your watch! Corne with me, John. John , sings coolly, and mezzo voce the end of his song. When I was King of Beotia. But this is not a man; it is a hurdy-gurdy. I will see you no more! Stamps his foot with impatience.

John disappears through the floor, still singing. Pluto pushes him with rage, imitating the organ-grinders' movements. The Infernal Regions — The Styx in the background.

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All the Gods, Eurydicea in Bacchant's costume. All the Olympian Gods, united with the infernal deities, are banqueting. Hail to the wine! Long live Pluto! We pity him who sings not for that. Beautiful Bacchant! Bacchus inspires me! Bacchus is King! It is the spouse that comes to redeem thy soul! That soul I loved so well, but love no more. I know of Jupe the absolute orders! Thy spouse claims thee—to the earth thou must return. It is a fine gift presented to the earth! A galley in the distance, Public Opinion steers it, Orpheus is near him and plays on the violin. Yes, I am convinced, notwithstanding her faults, 'Tis my wife.

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I shall ignore her caprices— Mighty king of. I know the formula! I know thy desire. Let us hurry matters— Faithful to my promise; in accordance with thy wishes, And in accord with Pluto, take thy Eurydicea. Orpheus nods that he is ready to obey.

Orphée et Eurydice (French… | Details | AllMusic

Look not back! I have said—obey—. I have, indeed, in vain Reckoned on his curiosity.

We triumph! He turns not back—can't help it. I'll fulminate him! Jupiter takes his thunder in his right hand, shakes it, but instead of striking him, gives a kick in the air and in Orpheus' direction, which traverses the stage under the shape of an electric spark — gong!

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And now I order— I that am thin and nimble— That as in the days Of the great king, Ye all dance the minuet! Dance, who talks about dancing here?

Why my darlings, you don't understand what dancing is now-a-days. Down below is the only place where they understand it. See, good country folks, that's the way we practice the thing. Dances comically. The Olympian gods allow themselves to be carried away by his merry dances. This work was published before January 1, , and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least years ago.

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This work was published before January 1, and it is anonymous or pseudonymous due to unknown authorship. It is in the public domain in the United States as well as countries and areas where the copyright terms of anonymous or pseudonymous works are 96 years or less since publication. Comic opera scored by Jacques Offenbach. US edition, published Country in the suburbs of Thebes.

My husband! Catch me! To the moon.

Madame, it is very bad taste on your part.

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