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Christine Daaé's dressing room. CHRISTINE sits disconsolately alone. PHANTOM'S VOICE: Christine. CHRISTINE: (Brightening.) You are here! PHANTOM'S VOICE: (Sadly.) Christine, if you must bestow your heart on earth, there is nothing for me to do but to go back to Heaven. CHRISTINE: No! You cannot - you must not leave me! PHANTOM'S VOICE: But what of Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny? CHRISTINE: We were friends when we were children, but his position in society forbids me to contemplate the possibility of ever marrying him. PHANTOM'S VOICE: Christine, you must love only me. CHRISTINE: I do. I fear nothing so much as that I might never hear you again. PHANTOM'S VOICE: And the Vicomte de Chagny? CHRISTINE: He is no more to me than a brother. My heart is incapable of earthly love. PHANTOM'S VOICE: Then you must tell him so, Christine. CHRISTINE: I shall! I shall! I have written to Monsieur Raoul de Chagny, asking him to come here today. PHANTOM'S VOICE: I will know if you are still worthy of me, if you are not lying to me. Remember, Christine, I am wherever you are. (Enter RAOUL. He knocks on the door of the dressing-room.) CHRISTINE: Come in. RAOUL: (Entering the room. Stiffly.) Mademoiselle. CHRISTINE: So you have come. RAOUL: You sent for me, Christine. You knew your letter would bring me. You know that I love you. CHRISTINE: I did not send for you to tell me such things as that. Perhaps I was wrong to write to you. Your sudden appearance here the other evening reminded me of the time long past and made me write to you as the little girl that I then was. RAOUL: When you saw me in your dressing-room, was that the first time you noticed me, Christine? CHRISTINE: (Hesitates.) No. I had often seen you in your box. And in the wings. RAOUL: I thought so! But then why did you send me away? CHRISTINE: I am not free. RAOUL: Are you engaged to be married? CHRISTINE: Why no! I can never marry, even if I wanted to! RAOUL: Why can't you marry? CHRISTINE: Because of the Angel of Music, of course. RAOUL: I don't follow. CHRISTINE: He forbids me to. RAOUL: He forbids you to marry! CHRISTINE: Oh, he forbids me ... without forbidding me. RAOUL: How? CHRISTINE: He tells me that, if I get married, I will never hear him again. He will go away for ever. RAOUL: And that's all? CHRISTINE: You must understand, I can't let the Angel of Music go. RAOUL: (Sarcastically.) Of course not! Where is he? Where does he live? CHRISTINE: In Heaven. RAOUL: You really believe ... (He stops himself from saying more.) That still does not explain why you sent me away so abruptly. Was it because there was someone else in the room and you did not wish him to know that you could be interested in me? CHRISTINE: What are you saying? What other do you mean? RAOUL: The man to whom you said, "I sing only for you!" CHRISTINE: You were listening outside the door? RAOUL: Yes, because I love you. And I heard everything. CHRISTINE: You heard what? RAOUL: He said to you, "Christine, you must love me!" CHRISTINE: You can hear him too! RAOUL: Who? CHRISTINE: The Angel of Music! RAOUL: (Disbelievingly.) The Angel of Music? CHRISTINE: Yes! I thought I was the only one to hear his voice. RAOUL: Where was he hiding? CHRISTINE: Nowhere. No one ever sees the Angel. RAOUL: What does he want? CHRISTINE: Want? Nothing. He comes every day to give me my singing lesson. RAOUL: And how long have you known this "Angel"? CHRISTINE: Three months. RAOUL: And where, pray, does he give you your lessons? CHRISTINE: Here, in my dressing-room. It would be impossible in my little flat. The whole house would hear us. Whereas, here at the Opera, at eight o'clock in the morning, there is no one about, you see? RAOUL: Yes, I see! I see! (He laughs.) CHRISTINE: What are you laughing at? You think you heard a man's voice, I suppose? RAOUL: Well!... CHRISTINE: You, Raoul, say that? You, my childhood playfellow? You, my father's friend? How you have changed since those days! What are you thinking of? I am an honest girl, Monsieur le Vicomte de Chagny, and I don't lock myself up in my dressing room with men's voices! If you had opened the door, you would have seen that there was no one here! RAOUL: That's true. I did open the door when you were gone, and I found no one here. CHRISTINE: So you see! ... Well? RAOUL: Well, Christine, I think somebody is making a fool of you. CHRISTINE: Leave me! Leave me alone! (She bursts into tears.) RAOUL: Christine! (He puts his hand on her shoulder, but she shakes him off.) CHRISTINE: Go away! Leave me alone! (RAOUL stands indecisively for a moment, then exits, leaving CHRISTINE sobbing and alone. After a moment she looks up hopefully.) CHRISTINE: Are you there? (Silence.) Please speak to me! (Silence.) Don't leave me alone! (Silence. She starts to sob again. Fade.)
The managers' office. Enter MONCHARMIN and RICHARD. MONCHARMIN: All this moonshine about the Opera ghost has blinded our imaginations! RICHARD: And our eyes! MONCHARMIN: We were affected by the silence. RICHARD: And the gloom that filled the box. After all, it was empty when we got there! MONCHARMIN: But there was definitely someone - or something - there when we looked up from the stage! RICHARD: What did you acually see? MONCHARMIN: A thing like a death's-head resting on the ledge of the box. RICHARD: Whereas I saw the shape of an old woman who looked remarkably like Mother Giry. MONCHARMIN: Yet there was certainly no shape of any kind when we got to the box. Perhaps we have been the victims of an illusion. (MAME GIRY enters and knocks on the door.) RICHARD: Come in! (MAME GIRY enters the office.) Oh, it's you! Where were you just now? GIRY: Just now, sir? RICHARD: Yes! Five minutes ago! Were you anywhere near Box 5 on the grand tier? GIRY: Yes, sir. The Opera ghost told me to bring this letter to you. RICHARD: So it was you I saw! MONCHARMIN: Then I must have seen ... (He sits down.) No, no! It isn't possible! GIRY: The Opera ghost was most insistent that you should have this letter straight away, sir. RICHARD: (Snatching the letter.) Another letter! GIRY: He told me to bring it to you .... RICHARD: Yes. Thank you. Get out! (MAME GIRY bows herself out.) MONCHARMIN: What does this one say? RICHARD: Oh, You read it. I'm sick of the whole thing! MONCHARMIN: (Taking the letter and reading it.) "I should like to hear Christine Daaé again in the part of Margarita, which you have jealously witheld from her since her triumph of the other night. Your most humble and obedient servant, Opera Ghost." RICHARD: Debienne and Poligny again? MONCHARMIN: It is the same writing as before. They seem to be greatly interested in Christine Daaé. (Enter CARLOTTA. She also has a letter.) MONCHARMIN: Signora Carlotta! CARLOTTA: A wicked plot is being hatched against me! RICHARD: What do you mean? CARLOTTA: I have a secret enemy who has sworn to ruin me! RICHARD: How? CARLOTTA: I have had a letter! MONCHARMIN: You too? CARLOTTA: I read it to you: "If you appear on Saturday night as Margarita, you must be prepared for a great misfortune at the moment when you open your mouth to sing ... a misfortune worse than death." RICHARD: From "The Opera Ghost", I suppose? CARLOTTA: That is what it says. But Carlotta is not to be fooled! Christine Daaé! She is behind this jealous threat! MONCHARMIN: Oh, Signora Carlotta, I do not think ... CARLOTTA: But Carlotta is not the woman to be intimidated! MONCHARMIN: Please. You must commit no imprudence. CARLOTTA: Were I dying, I will sing the part of Margarita on Saturday night! The house will be filled with all my admirers. I have no lack of them, have I? I rely on them and on you to hold yourselves prepared to silence my adversaries - the friends of this upstart, Christine Daaé - if they create a disturbance. MONCHARMIN: Of course, signora. We shall do everything in our power... CARLOTTA: On Saturday night, Carlotta will sing Margarita - and she will be superb! (She sweeps out.) RICHARD: Someone is trying to make fools of us all! MONCHARMIN: We must watch the performance on Saturday night. RICHARD: Yes. From Box 5! (Exeunt.)
Backstage at the Opera. Enter CHRISTINE crossing the stage. Enter RAOUL behind her. RAOUL: Christine! CHRISTINE: (She stops and turns in alarm.) Raoul! RAOUL: (Coming to her.) Christine, I must speak with you. CHRISTINE: No, Raoul. (She glances round fearfully.) It is impossible. RAOUL: But why? You know that I love you. CHRISTINE: If you really do love me Raoul, you must have the courage not to see me again. RAOUL: Why? CHRISTINE: You must not even speak to me. RAOUL: What has he done to you? CHRISTINE: Who? RAOUL: Your Angel of Music. What hold does he have over you? CHRISTINE: You must have nothing more to do with me, Raoul. RAOUL: But why? CHRISTINE: My life depends upon it. RAOUL: Your life! CHRISTINE: My life, Raoul, and yours. They both depend upon your never seeing me again. RAOUL: You lie! You have deceived me! You have deceived us all! I believed in your innocence and purity, but you have taken shameful advantage of my love for you! Who is he, your Angel of Music? Some frightful tenor, I suppose, some good-looking popinjay, who mouths and simpers as he sings? What an absurd wretch you have made of me! And you, what a bold and sly creature you are! I despise you! CHRISTINE: You will beg my pardon, one day, for those ugly words, Raoul, and I shall forgive you. RAOUL: (Shaking his head.) No, no, you have driven me mad! When I think that I had only one object in life: to give my name to an Opera wench! CHRISTINE: Raoul! How can you? RAOUL: I shall die of shame! CHRISTINE: No, dear, live! And ... good-bye. Good-bye, Raoul. (She hurries away from him, then turns back for a moment.) I will never forget you, Raoul. (Exit.) RAOUL: Christine! (Turning back and shouting at his invisible rival.) I shall find you out, whoever you are, and make you pay for what you have done to her! (He turns to go and comes face-to-face with the PERSIAN, who has just entered.) Excuse me. PERSIAN: Monsieur le Vicomte. (Exit RAOUL. The PERSIAN watches him for a moment, then exits.)
Box 5 at the Opera. Enter MONCHARMIN and RICHARD. MONCHARMIN: Not a bad house. RICHARD: Carlotta is still furious. MONCHARMIN: (Looking round the house.) I see her friends are out in force. RICHARD: Yes. But no sign of this plot that Christine Daaé's friends are supposed to have got up against Carlotta. MONCHARMIN: If you ask me, the whole thing is very silly. RICHARD: If there is any kind of disturbance, we can stop it straight away. MONCHARMIN: Christine Daaé has only one friend in the house, as far as I can see. RICHARD: Where? MONCHARMIN: There. (He nods towards the box opposite.) RICHARD: The Vicomte de Changny? MONCHARMIN: Of course. RICHARD: He is very pale. MONCHARMIN: Yes. He ought to be in his bed. He looks ill. RICHARD: You know, he spoke to me yesterday on Christine Daaé's behalf with such warmth, that I begin to wonder if he is responsible for those letters. MONCHARMIN: Really? Really? RICHARD: (Looking round the house.) There doesn't seem to be any sign of trouble at all. (Chaffingly.) Has the ghost whispered a word in your ear yet? MONCHARMIN: (Amused.) Wait. Don't be in such a hurry! The performance has not yet begun; and you know that the ghost does not usually come until the middle of the first act. (Enter MAME GIRY with a letter. She stands behind the managers and coughs. They jump in alarm.) GIRY: I beg your pardon, excuse me, gentlemen, but I have a letter here for you from the Opera ghost. RICHARD: Not another letter! GIRY: Yes, sir. He was most insistent... RICHARD: (Snatching the letter.) All right! Thank you! You can go! GIRY: The Opera ghost told me to come to you, that you had something to... RICHARD: Get out! Before I kick you down the stairs! GIRY: Yes, sir. RICHARD: Out!! GIRY: Of course, sir. (She bows herself out.) MONCHARMIN: What does this one say?
RICHARD: (Opening the letter and reading it.) "My dear Managers,
MONCHARMIN: What a nerve! RICHARD: Here we are, in box 5, and here we stay! MONCHARMIN: And Carlotta sings Margarita! (Lights dim and we hear snatches of the first act of "Faust".) RICHARD: (Leaning over to MONCHARMIN.) The ghost is late. MONCHARMIN: And what about the plot against Carlotta? RICHARD: All moonshine! MONCHARMIN: I suppose the row could begin when Carlotta gets to the jewel song. RICHARD: Well, we shall see. (We hear the beginning of the jewel song.) MONCHARMIN: (Looking round with a worried expression.) Was that you, Richard? RICHARD: What? MONCHARMIN: Breathing down my neck. RICHARD: Don't be silly! How could it be? MONCHARMIN: It must be a draught. RICHARD: Yes. A draught. MONCHARMIN: (Looking round again.) All the same, I could have sworn there was someone behind me! RICHARD: Be quiet! Look at Carlotta! MONCHARMIN: She is certainly flinging herself into the part! RICHARD: She could do with a bit more self-restraint. MONCHARMIN: A bit more modesty. RICHARD: She's not singing Carmen, for heaven's sake! PHANTOM'S VOICE: She is singing to-night to bring down the chandalier! RICHARD: What? MONCHARMIN: Who said that? PHANTOM'S VOICE: You have not heeded my advice. This house is cursed. Carlotta is singing to bring down the chandalier! (RICHARD and MONCHARMIN look up.) MONCHARMIN: The chandalier! RICHARD: Look! It's slipping! MONCHARMIN: Down! It's coming down! (There is a terrible crash as the lights flicker and black out. Deafening screams fill the darkness.)
Backstage at the Opera. Screams and shouts continue in the distance. CHRISTINE runs across the stage towards her dressing room followed by JAMMES and MEG GIRY. JAMMES: It plunged straight down from the ceiling! MEG: Smashed into the middle of the stalls! JAMMES: It must have killed dozens of people! MEG: What a disaster! JAMMES: Do you think it could have been - ? MEG: Don't say it! Don't say it! (Exeunt.)
Christine Daaé's dressing room. Enter CHRISTINE. She runs in and shuts the door. CHRISTINE: (Calling.) Are you there? (Silence.) Please answer me! Oh, please don't be among the dead and wounded! I need you! (She starts sobbing.) PHANTOM'S VOICE: Fate links thee and me for ever and a day! CHRISTINE: (Looking up in delight.) You are safe! You are here! (Enter RAOUL. He stops outside the dressing room as he hears the voices, and listens at the door.) PHANTOM'S VOICE: Come to me now. CHRISTINE: I am ready. PHANTOM'S VOICE: Come! And believe in me! Whoso believes in me shall live! Walk! (The mirror opens and a brilliant white light illuminates CHRISTINE.) Whoso hath believed in me shall never die! Come! And believe in me! (On a cloud of mist CHRISTINE walks through the mirror, which closes behind her. RAOUL bursts into the room in time to see her disappear. He runs to the mirror, but it has closed, and he cannot get through it.) PHANTOM'S VOICE: (Fading away.) Fate links thee to me for ever and a day. RAOUL: (Calling out in despair.) Who are you? Where have you taken her? (RAOUL runs out, passing the PERSIAN who has been lurking in the shadows throughout. The PERSIAN goes to the mirror and starts to feel round the outside of the frame. Fade.)
A dark passage beneath the Opera. The PHANTOM, a masked figure in a black cloak and hat, drags CHRISTINE across the stage. CHRISTINE: Who are you? Where is the Angel of Music? PHANTOM: Don't be afraid, Christine. You are in no danger. CHRISTINE: His voice! You are the Angel of Music! (She screams and struggles, but he puts his hand over her mouth. She faints. The PHANTOM picks her up and carries her off.)
The Phantom's lair beneath the Opera. There Is a huge pipe organ and a couch. The PHANTOM enters with CHRISTINE, and gently lays her on the couch. She stirs. CHRISTINE: Who are you? PHANTOM: I have no name and no country. I am what people make me: a ghost, a phantom. For you I am the Angel of Music. CHRISTINE: Take off your mask, if it covers the face of an honest man! (She reaches out to take away the mask. He stops her.) PHANTOM: You are in no danger, so long as you do not touch the mask. CHRISTINE: Why? PHANTOM: You shall never see my face. (CHRISTINE bursts into tears.) PHANTOM: It is true, Christine. I am not an angel, nor a genius, nor a ghost, but you have no better nor more respectful friend in the world than myself. CHRISTINE: Where am I? PHANTOM: In my home by the lake. CHRISTINE: Lake? What lake? PHANTOM: Deep underground, beneath the Opera. CHRISTINE: Why have you brought me here? PHANTOM: Because I love you. I have carried you off for love. I have brought you underground to be with me, for love. CHRISTINE: If you love me, then you will give me my liberty. PHANTOM: After five days you will be free. CHRISTINE: Why five days? PHANTOM: When those five days are past you will have learnt not to fear me; and then, from time to time, you will come back to see your poor Angel. And I will give you your singing lessons every day, and you will do all that I ask of you, and we shall astonish Paris! CHRISTINE: (She starts to look round.) How do you come to live here, beneath the Opera? PHANTOM: I was a contractor for part of its foundations. CHRISTINE: A contractor? But you are a musician. PHANTOM: I have been many things in my time, Christine. Soon after I had found the lake, work was officially suspended: during the war, the siege of Paris and the Commune. I continued to work, unofficially, and created a dwelling for myself unknown to the rest of the earth. CHRISTINE: Why? PHANTOM: To hide from men's eyes for all time. CHRISTINE: You have not hidden from me. PHANTOM: You, Christine Daaé, will give to men a little of the music of Heaven! CHRISTINE: (Picking up a manuscript.) May I look at this manuscript? Is it yours? PHANTOM: Yes. I compose sometimes. I began that work twenty years ago. CHRISTINE: (Reading the manuscript.) "Don Juan Triumphant". PHANTOM: When I have finished, I shall take it with me in my coffin and never wake up again. CHRISTINE: You must work at it as seldom as you can. PHANTOM: I sometimes work at it for fourteen days and nights together, during which I live on music only, and then I rest for years at a time. CHRISTINE: Will you play me something out of your "Don Juan Triumphant"? PHANTOM: You must never ask me that. I will play you Mozart, if you like, which will only make you weep; but my "Don Juan" burns, Christine; and yet he is not struck by fire from Heaven. You see, Christine, there is some music so terrible that it consumes all who approach it. Fortunately, you have not come to that music yet, for you would lose all your pretty colouring and nobody would know you when you returned to Paris. Come, I will play for you. (He sits at the organ and begins to play something by Mozart. CHRISTINE reaches out towards his mask, then draws back her hand. She repeats this again. Finally, she plucks up the courage and snatches away the PHANTOM'S mask. He howls horribly. CHRISTINE recoils in horror at the sight of his face.) PHANTOM: Look! You want to see? See! CHRISTINE: Oh, God! PHANTOM: Feast your eyes, glut your soul on my cursed ugliness! Look at my face! CHRISTINE: Forgive me ... please ... I didn't mean ... PHANTOM: (Distraught.) Now you know the face of the Angel of Music! CHRISTINE: Forgive me ... I'm sorry ... I didn't know ... PHANTOM: Why could you not be content only to hear me? When a woman sees me she belongs to me. She loves me for ever! Look at me! I am Don Juan triumphant! CHRISTINE: Oh, please ... no ... no! PHANTOM: Ah, I frighten you, do I? Perhaps you think this face is another mask? (He grabs her wrists.) CHRISTINE: No! PHANTOM: Well, tear it off as you did the other! Tear my flesh with your nails! My terrible dead flesh! CHRISTINE: Stop it! Let me go! (He flings her to the ground and stands over her.) PHANTOM: Know that I am built up of death from head to foot and that it is a corpse that loves you and adores you and will never, never let you go! As long as you thought me handsome, you would have come back, I know you would have come back ... CHRISTINE: Yes, yes ... I will ... I will ... PHANTOM: No! Now that you know the horror of my ugliness, you would run away for ever. (He kneels beside her. His voice is quiet but full of pain.) Why did you want to see me, Christine? When my own father never saw me, and my mother, so as not to see me, gave me my first mask! Oh, mad Christine! Now you have seen my face you can never leave me again! (Almost a whisper as he leans closer over her face.) I shall keep you here for ever!
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