All language subtitles for The Merry Widow - 2015.engcc

♪♪

Hello.
I'm Joyce DiDonato.

Today, the worlds of opera
and Broadway happily collide

in our production of
Franz Lehar's popular operetta,

"The Merry Widow."

Composed in 1905,
but still a timeless vehicle

for old-fashioned fun.

Our cast of luminaries
and Broadway stars

will soon be dancing
and cavorting on our stage,

led by America's reigning
soprano star Renee Fleming

in the title role of
the Merry Widow.

While the plot is lighthearted,
the action onstage is rich

as we enter the glittering world
of Belle Epoque Paris,

from high toned embassy balls

to the naughty underground
of Chez Maxim.

Nathan Gunn, a baritone who has
sung in both operas and musicals

plays the role of
the playboy Danilo,

charged by his
Pontevedrin countrymen

with a conquest of
the millionairess widow.

One of Broadway's most endearing
soprano stars, Kelli O'Hara,

plays the flirtatious
Valencienne,

whose amorous affair
might be her undoing.

One American tenor Alek Shrader
plays Rosillon,

the eager object of
Valencienne's attention,

while opera great,
Sir Thomas Allen,

is Valencienne's cuckolded
husband, Baron Zeta.

For additional comic relief,

Broadway star Carson Elrod
plays Baron Zeta's

not-quite-right in the head
sidekick, Njegus.

The action bursts to life under
the spirited choreography

of legendary Broadway director
Susan Stroman,

whose performers are decked out
in the gorgeous period costumes

of six-time Tony award winner,
William Ivey Long.

Sir Andrew Davis is about to
enter the pit.

Here is the Metropolitan Opera
production of "The Merry Widow."

MAN: Maestro to the pit please,
maestro to the pit.

[Applause]

[Overture concludes;
applause]

[Orchestra playing]

It's fallen to me to address you
as guests at this splendid ball.

I'm not that much of a speaker,
but better than none at all.

So I'll be brief. I wouldn't bore you!
I am simply here to implore you...

...to toast our host Baron Zeta,
who has arranged this glorious day.

Let us thank the great Baron Zeta.
Let us sing hip-hip-hooray.

You really have no cause to thank me.
This celebration has been planned...

...as a salute to Pontevedro,
to our beloved fatherland.

But we have something just as special
to celebrate in drink and dance.

The ceaseless support and investment
from all our generous friends in France!

Though Pontevedro's far from Paris,
I feel that we are holding hands...

...a truly beneficial union
of our two great fatherlands!

Though Pontevedro's far from Paris,
I feel that we are holding hands...

...a truly beneficial union
of our two great fatherlands!

And so I propose a toast to our connection...

...both spiritual and material.
Pontevedro and France!

Go and find Danilo, quick as you can!

But, ladies and gentlemen, enough of toasting,
it's time for dancing!

Ladies, you have your dance cards?
Gentlemen, your pencils?

The Embassy ballroom awaits you all.

And if this party doesn't raise any money,
then God help us. We're practically bankrupt!

Do you think we overspent on the Embassy?

I think we might have, yes. Olga?

No more talk of money. Ladies present!

Olga!

Yes, my love?

What were you doing with that Frenchman?

Just making conversation, my dear.

No, you weren't, you were flirting again.

Pardonez-moi monsieur!

Do stop nagging.

A rather jealous man, our Chief of Staff!

–Who, Kromow?
–Absolutely.

And Your Excellency isn't?

Absolutely not. Why should I be?

My wife's an innocent!

Look at the way she's talking
to that Frenchman over there.

Camille de Rosillon.

Ridiculous names they all have!
Don't you agree, Bogdanovitch, Pritschisch?

Absolutely.

Anyway, look at Valencienne using her charm.

That's what we're all doing this evening, isn't it?
Cozying up to the French?

She's an example....

–My darling Valencienne.
–Not here, not now. Not till we're alone.

What are you doing with my fan?

If I'm not allowed to say it, then I'll write it.

–I...
–Stop it!

–...love...
–Camille!

–...you!
–You terrible man! Really!

–My darling Valencienne.
–Yes, Mirko?

I'm sorry to recall you to your wifely duties...

...but could you possibly see
if Madame Glawari has arrived?

Of course, darling!

We'll talk later.

Is Hanna Glawari coming? The millionairess?

–I thought this was supposed to be a high-toned affair.
–Darling, stop it.

It's a bit of a diplomatic coup, if I say so myself.

It is quite a pretty fortune, isn't it?
How much was it again, Baron?

Please, Bogdanovitch. There are ladies present.

Twenty million?

Twenty million!

However much it is, it must remain in Pontevedro.

Otherwise some penniless Parisian
will get his paws on it!

Do you mean she might marry someone over here?

There's certainly that risk!

Tell me about her.

Well, she's Pontevedrian, exactly as we are....

Well, not exactly. She is a farmer's daughter.

–Well...was. Her father–
–Darling! I'm telling this.

Her father was a farmer and up to his ears in debt.

She'd been engaged, I believe,
but that got broken off...

...so imagine the farmer's relief
when an ancient banker comes a-courting.

–The banker married her?
–Not only that, Monsieur...

...he dropped dead of a heart attack
on the night of the honeymoon!

–A millionairess.
–Overnight. –Imagine.

And she's coming here this evening.

So the fatherland must be on its best behavior.

Kromow, have you seen Danilo?
We need him urgently.

I sent that half-wit Njegus to find him
and now there's no sign of either of them.

–Monsieur St. Brioche!
–Viscount Cascada.

Are you going to marry the widow?

The thought crossed my mind,
as I'm sure it did yours.

In that case may the best man win.

Oh, he will, he will.

I can't let Madame Glawari marry a Parisian.

Her fortune must remain in Pontevedro.

The fate of the fatherland depends on it.

And Danilo is the only man for the job.

But where is he?
And where's my wife?

Come quickly, please, there's no one here.

How I've been longing for this, my dear.

–No, I've something urgent to tell you.
–And so do I, oh, my dearest darling.

Oh, dear.

You know that isn't what I want to hear.

Fine, close your ears to what I've to say,
but love will always find another way.

Such vehemence, such passion within you.

This cannot continue.

But why?

Perhaps you should marry.

You want me to marry?

No, Valencienne.
You know that my heart belongs to you.

Don't torture me so.
You know that there is nothing I can do.

A highly respectable wife
is forced to be cautious in life.

I never dally with strangers,
I'm far too aware of the dangers.

I'd rather not join in the game
than blacken my own good name.

And that is a sad fact of life,
when one's a respectable wife.

I never play card games,
in case I should lose them.

You know your attractions,
so please don't abuse them.

Don't play with fire or with desire,
or you will get your fingers burned.

A love affair requires some care,
at least as far as I'm concerned.

You may start it as a game or joke,
but it will end in flame and smoke.

A love affair requires some care,
or you will get your fingers burned.

I've dealt with respectable wives
who lead unimpeachable lives.

Alas, you don't waver or falter.
You're fixed as the Rock of Gibraltar.

Though you think I'm playing some game,
my feelings remain the same.

And I will regret all my life
that you're a respectable wife.

It might have been better had I never met you.

But now that I've found you, how can I forget you?

I'm well aware you're teasing me.
I'm not a little boy.

To be in love is agony, not something to enjoy.

This is what I've learned...
that you, that you are not in love.

It's not a game, no, love is not a game
as far as I'm concerned.

[Applause]

–We're going to have to get you married.
–What?

We're going to have to get you married.
If I am to be a respectable wife...

...then the least you can do
is be a respectable husband.

–But what about us?
–Don't you see? This is about us.

How? I don't understand!
Darling! Valencienne!

So, Njegus, did you find Danilo?

He wasn't at his apartment.

–At his club?
–Nor at his club.

–With his mistress?
–No, I tried them all.

Damn the man.
He's got to marry the widow.

He's the only one of us who can.
He's single, he's presentable, he's Pontevedrian.

I'm single, too.

And the one time we need him,
we can't track him down.

–Well, actually I did. –What?
–Track him down.

–Where? –At Chez Maxim.
–Oh, my God.

Excellency, the girls there...
they have to be seen to be believed.

One of them–

Did you give him the message?

–Well, he was slightly the worse for wear.
–Dammit, blast the man.

But he promised to put his head under a faucet,
and wander over in a quarter of an hour.

What? The widow will be arriving any minute.

Parisians will be circling her like buzzards.

–And the one man we need–
–Is at Chez Maxim, the lucky dog.

Oh, Excellency, the girls there, the dances they do...

The clothes they wear.

And the clothes they don't.

–Concentrate, man.
–Sorry.

I need him here, now.
To earn twenty million for the fatherland.

But he's never earned a penny in his life.

Then it's high time he started.
Let me know the minute he–

What's that commotion? What's going on?

Madame Glawari has entered the building!

Oh, my God. Already. And no Danilo!

And where did my wife get to? Valencienne!

Twenty million! Twenty million!

[Applause]

[Trilling]

–How beautiful you are.
–The fairest in the firmament.

–The fairest by far!
–The single brightest star.

You're shining like a meteor, and you blind us.

You're trying to embarrass me.
You're trying to make me blush.

You mustn't make a fuss of me, so hush.

If I were a Parisian, I'd almost be amused...

...but as a Pontevedrian, I'm thoroughly confused.

Remember, I'm a stranger here, a little starry-eyed.

If I were a sophisticate, I'd take it in my stride.

Is it my style? Is it my charm?
Or my looks I should thank?

Or maybe it's the fact I have millions in the bank.

Excuse my being frank...

...but widows rich or poor,
find at their door suitors galore.

But when a widow has a fortune,
she is courted a hundred times more.

She's right. She knows the score.
Widows with cash, suitors galore.

Men want a gold mine. Men want a star.

Sadly, that's how matters are.

Say what you have to say, cruel or kind.
We love a girl who speaks her mind.

I never ever thought I'd be the toast of gay Paree.

So many pretty compliments and all for little me.

Complete and utter flattery, or is it merely greed?

It's like assault and battery, and hardly what I need.

Being very sycophantic isn't terribly romantic.

No, no, no, no, no, though you're very lovely boys...

...too much sweetness rapidly cloys.

–Splendid that she speaks her mind!
–No more!

[Applause]

What a beautiful voice you have-pure gold.

–Gold? Mais non, more like silver.
–Gold and silver, well, well, gentlemen?

Men can't look at me without mentioning money!

–Money? Not at all. Money!
–Money? What is this "money"?

–What did I tell you?
–Would Madame care to dance?

Does Madame have a choice in the matter?

–Would she be so gentille as to–
–Put me on her dance card?

And me! And me!

Well, aren't we the belle of the ball?

But since you insist, fill up my card.
The more, the merrier.

It doesn't really matter
who chucks me round the dance floor.

Madame Glawari, what a pleasure
to welcome you to our humble home.

Well, I love it!

Will you allow me to introduce
the delightful Monsieur Camille de Rosillon...

...who is most eager to be on your dance card.

(Where's Danilo? We need him now!)

Of course, with pleasure, but I seem to be fully booked.

I assure you that if you can fit
this gentleman in, you won't regret it.

Well, maybe later. And speaking of later,
why not all of you come round to my villa?

We'll have "Pontevedrian night,"
with our food, our music, and our dancing.

And as for you, Monsieur,
I'll dance with you till you drop.

–I absolutely forbid it.
–But I thought you wanted me to!

Can't a girl change her mind?

–Look at that dress.
–Look at those shoes!

There's one thing money can't buy.

Taste.

Anyway, we'd be delighted to join you,
Madame Glawari...

...and of course you're right,
we've all become much too Parisian.

–We've forgotten where we came from.
–One does that at one's peril.

Indeed.

There is only one of our colony who's retained
the wild free spirit of the homeland...

–...exactly as you have.
–And who would that be?

–Well, Count Danilovitch.
–Danilo? Is Danilo here?

Yes, absolutely...he's just....

And you're associating the Count with me?

Well, no, absolutely not, except that....

Well, it's true the Count and I
were maybe two of a kind...once...

...but nothing came of it, and that's that.

–Nothing came of what?
–Nothing.

Doesn't sound like nothing to me!

Well, anyway, you are–

–May I interrupt, Madame Glawari?
–Please do!

–And it's Hanna, Baroness.
–Then it's Valencienne, Hanna.

Shall we go into the ball?
Perhaps Monsieur Rosillon could escort you?

[Men jostling]

So many attentive young men!
Wealth does have its privileges.

Now, eeny, meeny, miney, I choose–

You Baron Zeta, I'm sure I'm in no danger from you.

–Isn't that right, Valencienne?
–Oh, yes, absolutely right.

Come on, everyone.
If we're going to dance, let's dance!

–I am going to marry her.
–So am I.

You have to marry her.
Then we can be seen together.

And anyway, isn't my husband promoting
Franco-Pontevedrian relations?

–There are limits, surely.
–Do it for him. Do it for me.

Woo her. Marry her.

What? Now?

Well, maybe not this actual minute.

It's suddenly very warm in here.

Have you seen my fan?

As diplomatic attaché, I have to labor every day.

There's always something to be done.
I wish I had some time for fun.

I get up at the crack of noon,
then in the office fairly soon...

...and then I pop out straightaway.
Well, you can hardly work all day!

When documents are to be read,
then I do something else instead.

I know it's good to be in touch,
but is it safe to know too much?

And when there's papers to be signed,
well, that's my job, so I don't mind.

But then I often stop and think,
it may be best to save the ink.

Then meetings in the Café Flore,
plus an aperitif, or four.

Then, weary from my hard travails,
I toddle home to don my tails.

Then off to Chez Maxim,
where things are très intime.

Surrounded by chantoozies,
and all my favorite floozies!

Lolo, Dodo, Joujou, Cloclo, Margot, Froufrou!

Beloved Pontevedro, I do it all for you!

A Danube of champagne, grisettes who entertain.

It's quite a different story to see them in their glory.

Lolo, Dodo, Joujou, Cloclo, Margot, Froufrou!

Beloved Pontevedro, the things I do for you!

[Whooping]

[Applause]

–Danilo, there you are!
–Njegus, old bean.

Here I absolutely am!
What, no welcoming committee?

I haven't yet been able to inform His Excellency.

He was deep in conversation with Madame Glawari.

–You don't mean Hanna Glawari?
–Yes.

–She's here?
–Yes.

Well, in that case I'm going back to Chez Maxim.

Oh, come on, Danilo, grow up!

None of that matters anymore.
It's all blood under the bridge.

Very well, Njegus.

Tell me, what perilous mission
does the fatherland have for me?

The Baron said something about earning money.

Really? Spending is more my thing.

Yes, I know, but for the fatherland!

–Ah, well, in that case....
–In that case, shall I announce you?

Absolutely.

Actually, Njegus, maybe not quite yet.
I don't know what it is...

...but there's still something
whirling around inside my head.

That'll be the champagne.

It's not so much the drinking,
it's the not sleeping.

I've been on my feet for three whole days.

Could you give me thirty minutes for forty winks?

For you, fifteen.

All right, all right. You need some of this.

–I'll announce you a little later.
–Thanks, Njegus. I owe you.

In that case, can you tell me
what the blond one called?

–Which blond one?
–The grisette with the bust like....

–Njegus, please.
–Like a small balcony.

Oh, that's Lolo. No...Froufrou.

Tell me about Froufrou.

–Njegus, I'm exhausted.
–But you always tell me about the grisettes.

–Later, I promise.
–Oh, all right.

Oh, my poor head.

Lolo...Dodo...Joujou....

Camille, you have to find my fan. It's urgent.

–You know what you wrote on it.
–I love you.

Exactly, and if someone finds it, I'll be ruined.

I am a respectable wife,
and you will marry the widow...

...and you will look for my fan.

Do you want to compromise me?
Then do as you're told!

Ah well, let's look for the fan, then.

[Danilo snoring softly]

–Leave me alone. I'm asleep.
–I beg your pardon.

I said I'm asleep.

Oh, it's you, Danilo.

I'm looking for a fan.

Aren't we all?

Sorry to disturb you.

Where can she have left it?

I have but to extricate myself
from a liaison with a married lady...

...and then I intend to marry the widow.

I also have to extricate myself
from a liaison with a married lady...

...though hopefully not the same one...

...and then I also intend to marry the widow.

–You're only after her millions.
–And you're not?

–Fortune hunter!
–Gold digger!

–Madame Glawari!
–Hanna!

[Sniffing]

[Danilo snoring]

All of you go away now, please.

Thought so. Danilo.

I never forget a snore.

For God's sake. Oh, Hanna!
Good morning, darling. Sleep well?

I mean well, well!
Good evening, Madame.

–It's Madame Glawari now, isn't it?
–It is, yes.

But you can still call me Danilo if you want.

Why would I want to call you anything at all?
Sorry to disturb you.

–Have a good snore.
–No, I'm wide-awake now.

–So you are.
–So, anyway....

Anyway....

–Here we both are.
–So it would seem.

So, you're in Paris for what?

Oh, I don't know. Fun?
I thought I might even move here. Settle down.

You mean, get married again?
I'd have thought once was enough for you.

And too much for you.
You wouldn't even do it once.

That wasn't my fault.

Of course not.
How could anything be your fault?

You know it was my uncle.

Yes, who thought I was too common
for the up-and-coming young officer.

But now you're not so common anymore.

And you're not so much
up-and-coming...as been-and-gone.

But you must tell me all about your marriage.

What was it that first attracted you
to that millionaire septuagenarian?

Well, for one thing, he wanted me.

Touché.

I'm sorry. I know your father had debts.
God knows I can sympathize.

As for why I married, it's no one's business.
Least of all yours.

And now that I'm a rich widow,
now that the farm girl owns the farm...

...even your uncle could consider me a catch.

Are you implying that your millions
would in any way....

How little you know me.

I thought I knew all sorts of things.
But I'm wiser now.

I've learned that when men say, "I love you,"
they mean, "I love your money."

That's why you'll never hear me saying...that thing.

–What thing?
–You know, "I love you."

–Do you?
–No, that's what I'll never say.

–Never?
–Never, ever!

–So, a declaration of war?
–If you wish.

Aha, the gauntlet?

That's right.
See you on the battlefield.

–Did you find it?
–No, did you?

–I told you to!
–I will! I will!

–But I still don't understand.
–If you marry the widow...

...then you'll be as married as I am
and equally respectable. So find the fan!

But what would we do then?

I don't know!
Am I supposed to think of everything?

But I do dream about it.

Being respectable, and not being respectable.

Well, I can dream, can't I?
And I do love to dream. I love to dream a lot.

–Of what?
–A place where we could be.

–Discreet?
–Our secret sanctuary.

–How sweet.
–A place where you and I...

...could watch the world go by.

–What then?
–We'd sit and sigh and stare.

–And kiss?
–You'd maybe stroke my hair.

–Like this?
–No one would know that we were there.

Our little love nest, our castle in the air.

A little somewhere for you and I to share.

We'd sit and stare at each other, hand in hand.

We'd be together in our Neverland.

Where, where in all this hithering, thithering world,
can we find a sanctuary?

People are rushing all around.
Where can a kind of peace be found?

Yes, that is what we really long for,
some sort of domesticity.

A little place, a little home,
a little somewhere we can be.

–What's wrong?
–It's fated not to be.

–How so?
–My darling, woe is me.

–Why woe?
–Oh, surely you can see...

...that it can never be.

–But why?
–My darling, don't you see?

–See what?
–That it's a fantasy.

–It's not.
–This dream will never, ever be.

There will be nowhere for you and I to share.

No little love nest, no castle in the air.

Farewell the magic, the pleasure we had planned.

Farewell forever, to our Neverland.

Farewell forever, our Neverland.

[Applause]

This fan, with its repulsive inscription,
can only belong to one person:

Olga, my wife. She's always flirting...

...and now at last I have proof
that it's more than flirting.

Quick, give it back to me.
I need to cool down.

Ah, Valencienne, I'm glad you're here.
Now, about this fan....

My God, he's got it.

On this fan are written the words, "I love you."

–Really?
–And it belongs to my wife.

–It does not!
–Just pretend it does.

Otherwise he'll blame his wife and murder her.
The last thing we want is a scandal.

But look again, my dear,
it is your fan, is it not?

Ah, yes, now that I look at it more closely,
yes, silly me.

In that case who wrote "I love you" on it?

Well...who else would write that, but my husband?

When he gave it to me.

Absolutely. Damn clever woman, my wife.

Then I have maligned my Olga.
I must find her and apologize.

And keep an eye on her.

Thank you, my dear.
That was sweet of you.

Now, if you just give me the fan,
I'll return it to Olga discreetly.

–Wouldn't it be better if I did?
–No, that wouldn't be proper.

Excellency, here's the Count you ordered!

–Ah, there you are at last.
–Excellency.

I'd love to take you back to the party myself,
but I have diplomatic matters to attend to.

Monsieur de Rosillon,
would you offer Her Excellency your arm?

With the very greatest of pleasure.

Good news! They've found the fan.
Bad news! My husband's got it.

We'll have to get you married off as soon as possible.

Then I must present myself immediately.

Well, there's no mad rush.

Danilo, I have a mission for you.

Anything you want, as long as it's not work.

Oh, no, this is not work. It's more like fun.

–In that case I'm your man.
–You have to get married.

–Where does the fun come in?
–The fatherland demands it.

Well, in that case, who's the lucky woman?

Put it this way, she has twenty million.

She certainly has a lovely figure.

None lovelier. It's Hanna Glawari.

Hanna? Never! Not her. Anyone but her.

I wouldn't touch her, let alone marry her.
Not for fifty million.

That is unpatriotic in the extreme.

If Madame Glawari marries some penniless Parisian,
then her fortune will be forfeited by the fatherland.

–And that must not be allowed to happen.
–Well, I can certainly put a stop to that.

I can fight off any French poodle
that comes sniffing around.

But I won't marry her.

–And why not you, for God's sake?
–Let's say for historical reasons.

Plus, I have a hard-and-fast rule:
"Love is fine, so is betrothal..."

"...but marriage is not!"

Danilo, don't be selfish, your country needs you.

Ladies' Choice!

Do you hear that? Ladies' Choice.
And here she is.

–Who will she choose?
–Right, I'll start clearing the field.

The fatherland will be eternally in your debt.

Ladies' Choice! Can you hear the men rejoice?

Can you hear them name it
and acclaim it with united voice?

It would be ecstasy if you would smile on me.

Madame, excuse me,
will you choose me for the Ladies' Choice?

Ah, Messieurs, a delight and wholly unexpected.

Though I'd hate to be the cause
that others are neglected.

Let the ladies have their chance.
All of them are dying to dance...

...waiting in the wings, and willing.

But they haven't got a shilling!

If they continue, she may yield.

I must try to clear the field!

Boys, you write your applications.

I'm off to fetch some fresh temptations.

In Paris it's slightly embarrassing,
when dressed in your best for a ball...

...to offer yourself to a lady
when she doesn't notice at all.

You women campaign for equality,
the chances of which seem remote.

Since, even when you have the power
you can't even bother to vote.

–Will you elect me?
–Will you select me?

I am a better man than all the rest.

–Will you vote for Cascada?
–Will you vote for St. Brioche?

It is your chance for a dance with the best.

This modern obsession with politics!
A terrible bore and a curse!

The men who indulge are appalling,
the women decidedly worse.

But since you have granted me suffrage,
it's right that I fight your campaign.

But one thing I'd rather be fighting for,
and that is the right to abstain!

–Will you elect me?
–Will you select me?

It isn't fair that it should rest with me!

Doing all the choosing isn't so amusing.
Just tell me who is my partner-to-be.

Let me do the choosing, let me do the choosing.

My Lady, I'll be your partner-to-be.

Well, since you insist,
it doesn't really matter who I dance with.

–Someone come and claim the prize.
–Ladies' Choice, Ladies' Choice!

Here I am with fresh supplies!

Oh, come along, you rare, you perfect beauties.

Take your partners! To your duties!

Let them whirl you and twirl you forevermore.

They'll be so fleet that your feet
scarcely touch the floor.

Come on and don't be shy, you lovely creatures.

Will you guide us? Will you teach us
how divine the world can be?

Ah, Monsieur, je vous en prie!

Like the warmth of a morning in May,
or the scent of a lover's bouquet...

....with the shimmer of massed violins,
ah, that's how the magic begins.

When a boy is enjoying the charms
of a girl he can twirl in his arms....

Then let youth have its fling,
let us dance, let us sing!

Who can tell what the night will bring?

What delight the night will bring!

Oh, come along, you rare and perfect beauties.

Take your partners! To your duties!

Come and whirl them and swirl them forevermore.

You'll be so fleet that their feet
hardly touch the floor.

Come on, and don't be shy, you lovely creatures.

Will you guide us? Will you teach us...

...that the pleasure has no measure...

...as long as you can hear the music play?

As diplomatic attaché, I have to labor every day.

I do it for my country's sake,
but now and then I like a break.

Madame, oh I implore you.

I'm kneeling here before you.

I'm positively spoiled for choice.

Another woman might rejoice.

Well, well! Strange situation.

I have a recommendation.

Damn and blast!
I thought I'd cleared the field.

He does a splendid polka.
He's got the magic touch.

I also tried his mazurka, I liked it very much.

His hornpipe is outstanding, admired at every dance.

I've longed to sample his waltzing,
but I haven't been given the chance.

If you select him, if you elect him,
then frankly nothing would delight me more.

If you dance with Rosillon,
then he will polka you clean off the floor.

–If you dance with Cascada...
–If you dance with St. Brioche...

...then you'll discover what dancing is for.

–Too many suitors for Madame?
–No, not at all. But still....

Frankly, my perfect partner
is one who's cool and debonair...

...who acts as if he doesn't care.

You're the one I vote for.

Me? Chère Madame, I never dance.

So you're going to pass up the chance?

No, no, it's fine.
You say the dance is mine?

Well, yes, mais oui.

Well, if the dance belongs to me,
then I can use it how I like.

–Can use it how I like.
–That's right.

What's going on?

The dance is mine, accepted and with thanks.

It must be worth ten thousand francs.
Now it's up for sale!

Someone write a check:
"ten thousand francs" to give to the cause.

–Ten thousand francs?
–That's quite a lot.

For such a prize I think it's not.

Ten thousand francs?
That's dearly bought.

They're off, exactly as I thought!

No one cares. It's a shame, but no one cares.

When it comes to charity,
they jump from me like startled hares.

The thought of signing checks
turns them to nervous wrecks.

And so they go their stingy way,
but that's the world today!

I won't stand here and be insulted.

It's ten thousand francs? Then I will pay!

You're in love with her?

But that was your plan.

You appalling man!

Now you're alone. Now you are free.

Madame, here is my arm.
Maybe you'll dance with me.

Or maybe I won't.

What do you mean? You voted for me.

That is true. Even so, I have said no.

Moonlight and music, sweetly combined.

Maybe they might change your mind.

I don't wish to.

Well, if you insist.

Oh, you terrible man!
You dance like an angel!

One does what one can!

[Cheering and applause]

JOYCE DiDONATO: At the end of
the previous act,

Danilo has agreed to
help his countrymen

by keeping Hanna's
Parisian pursuers at bay,

but only for the good of
the fatherland.

While Danilo has refused so far
to marry Hanna himself,

their chemistry
cannot be denied.

But all will be resolved by
the time we get to Chez Maxim.

Here are the final two acts
of "The Merry Widow."

[Applause]

[Orchestra playing]

[Applause]

Mi velimo dase dase veslimo!

Take your partners and dance together.

Love and laughter will last forever.

[Applause]

Tonight as a sort of souvenir
of Pontevedro, far from here...

...I've a song from olden days
about a wood nymph's wicked ways!

There once was a huntsman a long time ago...

...who strayed from the path and got lost in the snow.

But then in a clearing a beauty he spied...

...the fire in her eyes made him melt deep inside.

Life would never be the same.
His heart was turned to ice and flame.

As he sighed, suddenly he knew her name.

Vilja, O Vilja, you magical child.

My aching heart is bewitched and beguiled.

Vilja, O Vilja, I'll make you my own.

You will be mine, mine alone.

Vilja, O Vilja, you magical child.

My aching heart is bewitched and beguiled.

Vilja, O Vilja, oh, where have you flown?

How could you leave me alone?

She nodded her head, and the poor man obeyed.

And then he was led to a moon-dappled glade.

His heart turned to fire with the heat of her kiss.

He knew that no mortal could love him like this.

He awoke at break of day,
and everything was cold and gray.

Even now, you can hear the poor man say....

Vilja, O Vilja, you magical child.

My aching heart is bewitched and beguiled.

Vilja, O Vilja, I'll make you my own.

You will be mine, mine alone.

Vilja, O Vilja, you magical child.

My aching heart is bewitched and beguiled.

Vilja, O Vilja, oh, where have you flown?

How could you leave me alone?

[Cheers and applause]

Take your partners and dance together.
Love and laughter will last forever!

[Applause]

Madame Glawari...

...this reminiscence of our homeland,
our poor poor Pontevedro, has moved me deeply.

–Baron, do you know if Count Danilo will be joining us?
–Why?

Darling. Fireworks on the terrace!

Only asking. Coming! Lovely party.

Ghastly woman.

Actually, is Count Danilo going to join us?

Well, he said he...Njegus?

Well, he might possibly have briefly popped back to...

–To where?
–I don't know. To Chez Maxim?

Why did I say that?

That place. It does seem to be
on everyone's lips. What's it like?

It's hardly the place for ladies. So I'm told.

You've been misinformed.
You wouldn't believe the ladies you'd find there!

Lolo, Dodo, Joujou, Cloclo, Margot,
Froufrou–my favorite!

Oh, you know them, do you?

Well, no, not personally,
but Danilo has told me all about them.

–Has he now?
–Yes, and shown me pictures.

Oh, that's tragic.

Wait. It's exactly nine o'clock, so...

[Boom]

Ta-da!

[Fireworks continue]

They are nothing if not punctual!

Excellency, it looks like Danilo won't be joining us.

Ah, well. His loss.

If you'll excuse me.

–Madame Glawari, may I offer you my arm?
–Don't take his, take mine!

-Oh, but mine's much stronger!
-Well that's debatable.

Hanna was asking about Danilo,
which means she's interested.

Which means there's still a chance
they might marry...

...and the fatherland may be saved.
But where is he?

He didn't want to come.
He said her party can go to hell.

Or words to that effect.

Didn't you tell him that the fatherland demands it?

He said the fatherland was starting to get on his nerves.

Again, I'm paraphrasing.

–Damn him.
–Damn whom?

You.

Well, that's not very nice.
Not when I got all dressed up for the party.

Danilo, you're here to work.
Now come on, man, it's back to Hanna business.

And you haven't spotted the real danger.

–Haven't I? –No, it's Rosillon.
–Camille? –Exactly.

Now, if only we could drive him off the scent.

What do you mean? He's already in love.

–In love?
–Yes, with...someone else.

–With who?
–With whom?

With a lady. With a married lady.
Why did I say that?

Who is this married lady?

Well, he didn't actually say.

Never mind. When I discover
which married lady he's madly in love with...

...I'll make sure he marries her.
And straightaway.

But Excellency, what will the
married lady's husband say to that?

Leave that to me.

He's bound to be some doddering old fool
we can run rings round.

I wouldn't argue with that.

Oh, look, there's Rosillon with my wife.

She seems to have quite an influence on him.

I'm sure she'll be able to winkle it out of him.

I'm sure she will.

We should persuade her to persuade Rosillon
to marry the married lady he's in love with...

...and give up Hanna once and for all.

Njegus, tell my wife to wait for me.

Unbelievable.

[Fireworks exploding]

Now, my dear Count, perhaps this fan is a clue...

...to the identity of Rosillon's mysterious married lady.

Look at what it says: "I love you."

I have my suspicions it belongs to Olga Kromow.

You must find out if she's Rosillon's lady.
Come on, Count. Use your wits.

[Fireworks exploding]

[Guests ooh and applaud]

Camille was looking for a fan yesterday, wasn't he?

I bet he's the one who wrote on it...

...and the lady for whom it was meant has lost it.
But who was it?

Ah, Olga Kromow, our prime suspect.
Let's find out if it belongs to her.

–Madame Kromow!
–Count?

I believe you might have lost something.

No, I don't think so.

I think you have.
Your heart, and something else.

–Count!
–(It's her!) Don't worry, I'm discreet.

I just want to warn you that
he's about to marry–the widow!

–My God! Who is? St. Brioche?
–What?

Thank you, thank you for telling me!

So, she's involved with St. Brioche, is she?

Well, well, well! Not her, then.

Ah, Madame Bogdanovitch.
Perhaps the fan is hers.

Madame, I think you might have lost something.

No, I don't think so.

Oh, yes, you have.
Your heart, and something else.

Something you can open wide, and then snap shut?

[Laughter]

What on earth are you talking about?

But don't worry, I'm discreet.

I just want to warn you that
he's about to marry–the widow!

–My God! Who is? Cascada?
–What?

Thank you, thank you for telling me!

So she's with Cascada, is she?
Then whose fan was Camille writing on?

"I love you," the three
most dangerous words in the language.

Oh, Count Danilo, what an adorable fan!

(It can't be her, surely!)

Do you see this fan?
It bears a secret message.

–Really?
–It says, "I love you."

Oh, Count.

Aha! In that case, let me place it where it belongs.

At last. At long, long last.

("At last"? Then it must be her.)

Did you sense it, Count?
Did you somehow know?

You mean the way your affections were tending?

Yes, yes! Do you feel it, too, Danilo?

–Do I feel what?
–How close you are to my heart, Danilo?

Do you feel it beating? Feel it now!

Me? You mean it's me?

Give me back that fan.

Close to your heart?
That's far too close for comfort!

Is it that you think I'm too old?

I'm trying not to think about it at all!

–Look, here comes your husband.
–Please be discreet!

Trust me, Madame, I won't tell a soul!

What was she thinking?
But whose is this damn thing...

...this fan fatale? Not hers, surely?

Ah, Count Danilo. So you came
to my little garden party after all...

...and dressed to kill!
You seem to yield to me at every step.

I'm surprised you don't put up more of a struggle!

Let's call it strategy. I maneuver,
I skirmish, more...

...light cavalry than heavy artillery.

Oh, I see. So it's still war, is it?

Hello, here's a soldier bold, mounted on his charger...

...head to toe in red and gold, like a maharajah!

Come on, lady, don't be shy.
What are you afraid of?

Dare to give the man the eye.
Show him what you're made of!

Lady seems to give the wink.
What's the soldier supposed to think?

Silently she seems to say,
"This one could go either way!"

If a girl's admiring you,
longing for a rendezvous...

...would you dare to woo her,
would you look right through her?

What's the soldier going to do?

Would you dare return her glance?
Even ask her out to dance?

No, you couldn't bear to...
no, you wouldn't dare to.

Silly man, you missed your chance!

–And off he goes.
–Silly man! –Indeed!

Oh look, he's coming back!

Hello, soldier's riding back!
Spurs a-jingle-jangle.

Time to mount a fresh attack from a different angle!

Soldier smiles and tips his hat,
moves a little closer.

If you think she'll fall for that,
then the answer's "No, sir!"

If the lady's so blasé,
one could simply ride away.

I've more urgent things to do,
than to waste my time on you!

If you'd dared to say hello,
would it have been "yes" or "no"?

Would she have relented?
Would she have consented?

–Silly man, you'll never know!
–Luckily, I'll never know!

–Giddy up and off you go,
–Giddy up and off I go.

Would she have relented?
Would she have consented?

Silly man, you'll never know!

Would she have relented?
Would she have consented?

Now perhaps, I'll never know!

[Applause]

Keep away from the widow, or I will kill you!

–If you kill me, I will kill you!
–If you do, I will kill you back!

BOTH: En garde!

Frenchies at twelve o'clock.
Now I can use what I know.

[Laughter]

Gentlemen! I have a suggestion...
that you both stay away from her.

Otherwise, Cascada, I'll be forced to inform...

...if you'll excuse me for a second...

...Bogdanovitch.

–Bogdanovitch?
–Yes. About you and his wife.

Oh, God! Oh, God!

As I was saying, St. Brioche,
otherwise I'll be forced to inform...

...if you'll excuse me for a second...

...Kromow.

–Kromow?
–Yes. About you and his wife.

Oh, God! Oh, God!

And, oh, speak of the devils! Gentlemen.

Kromow, Bogdanovitch,
these Frenchmen and I were just discussing....

You wouldn't dare.

We were just discussing a matter of principle.
How should noblemen behave...

...if they find out that their noblewomen
are behaving not so nobly with another man?

I know what I'd do.

–I'd shoot the blackguard down like a dog.
–Like a dog?

–As soon as look at him!
–That soon, eh?

Well, well, what are we discussing?

Please, give this to Madame Glawari!

We were discussing how a nobleman should behave
if his wife is somewhat wayward.

Well, that's not something
I have to worry about, thank God.

–Really?
–I know my wife.

–But she is a woman, is she not?
–Every inch.

Ah, women. Creatures of mystery.

What would you know?

But that's the point.
What would any of us know?

How can we know the unknowable?

–What's the secret?
–What's the secret?

–Of a woman?
–Who can tell?

They're perpetual enigmas, unpredictable as well.

–How to keep them?
–That's the question.

–Keep them faithful!
–That's the trick!

And they're such a mix of attributes,
a man has to take his pick.

There's some who need a lot of wooing.
Lots of this and lots of that.

With endless billing, endless cooing.
Lots of this and lots of that.

There's some prefer a man who's rougher.
Lots of this and lots of that.

Imploring us to make them suffer.
Lots of this and lots of that.

The whiny ones are always crying.
Lots of this and lots of that.

Then suddenly their fists are flying.
Lots of this and lots of that.

And some require expensive dresses.
Lots of this and lots of that.

And some who need precise caresses.

Lots of this and loads of that.

Who can tell what the hell women are?

Oh, so sweet, but completely bizarre.

All that endless kerfuffle and fuss!
Why can't they be more like us?

From a wonder, a bundle of joy...
to a monster who wants to destroy.

Whether wild as a minx, or a child, or a sphinx,
who can tell what the hell she thinks?

Women, women, women,
women, women, women!

Who can tell what the hell women are?

Oh, so sweet, but completely bizarre.

All that endless kerfuffle and fuss.
Why can't they be more like us?

From a wonder, a bundle of joy,
to a monster who wants to destroy.

Whether wild as a minx, or a child, or a sphinx,
who can tell what the hell she thinks?

Who can tell what the hell women are?

Oh, so sweet, but completely bizarre.

All that endless kerfuffle and fuss.
Why can't they be more like us?

From a wonder, a bundle of joy,
to a monster who wants to destroy.

Whether wild as a minx, or a child, or a sphinx,
who can tell what the hell she thinks?

[Applause]

[Applause]

Not so fast!

Count Danilo!
You're driving them all away.

It seems my suitors suddenly have
previous engagements elsewhere.

Game, set, and match.

–Why are you doing this?
–Because it amuses me.

Then perhaps you can help me.

Since you've made it clear that you do not love me–

Absolutely not.

Perhaps you could advise me,
honestly and impartially...

...whether I should marry the man I would like to marry.

(Let's see him get out of that one.)

As far as I'm concerned
you can marry whomsoever you want.

It will never hurt me! It will never hurt me here.

Oh, this blasted fan! It turns up everywhere!

–You're jealous, aren't you?
–You bet! –Really?

Which, of course, has nothing to do with you.
It's an eccentricity of mine.

I'm jealous of any man that attracts
female attention if that man is not me.

Marry who you want,
just spare me the gory details.

A lady's fan! What's this?

"I love you."

But who's it meant for?
Oh, I see. It's a gift, for me!

He couldn't say it, so he wrote it,
and left it for me to find.

No. That's not good enough.
He has to say the words.

–Count?
–Madame!

–Have you calmed down?
–I wasn't even slightly upset.

Then I can confide in you?
I want to become a Parisienne.

(Poor old Pontevedro.)

But, before I marry,
I would like to get to know the lifestyle.

Where does one go to amuse oneself in Paris?
And don't say the Embassy.

You're right. The Embassy, it's all so formal.

Some Frenchman breathing Bordeaux down your neck....

Est-ce-que je peux avoir
la grande préférence de danser avec vous?

Avec beaucoup de plaisir!

Je sais! Un kolo, la danse de votre patrie.

[Applause]

Did you enjoy that?

–Not really.
–No, me, neither.

No, if I wanted to sample the night life of Paris...

...I'd be saying to the man of my dreams...

–"My dearest darling Dani–"
–Dani?

Daniville. It's a common French name.
I'd say, "Show me the real Paris."

Where do the natives go to have fun?

Well, in that case....

It's off to Chez Maxim,
where things are très intime.

And you'd be noticed straightaway
as you glide into the room.

"Aha," say the men.
"This must be the new grisette..."

...and they stare openly, greedily,
as the band plays a seductive waltz...

...and the air is thick with possibilities.

[Orchestra playing waltz]

And because you dance so gracefully...

...you are passed from one man to another.

One strong pair of arms to another.
A handsome shopkeeper, a Russian prince.

And then suddenly, as if from nowhere,
another man has you in his arms.

A stranger, but somehow familiar,
and you find that he dances quite well, too.

Sir, I have an urgent....

Excuse me, I have guests to attend to.

Danilo, there you are.
Bravo, Njegus, you found him finally.

Have you discovered the identity
of Rosillon's mysterious married lady?

–Oh, that. Not quite yet.
–Well, don't you worry.

I've had a brilliant idea.
I've asked my wife to spy on Rosillon.

I'm as cunning as a fox!

And there they both are.

You'd almost think she were flirting with him.
What a performance!

Sir. I have an urgent communication.

It's from the Ministry!

Damn, it's in code. You decipher it.

"In reference to your cable
regarding Glawari's melons."

–Odd....
–No, I have it.

It's not "melons." It's "millions."

Oh, sorry, it looks more like "melons".

–I think "millions," probably.
–The Glawari millions, obviously.

He's waiting for our reply. It's plainly urgent.

We must convene a meeting,
in ten minutes' time, in the pavilion.

As Your Excellency commands.
(Still looks like melons to me!)

Look at my wife, still talking to Rosillon.
She's as cunning as I am!

Ah, they're coming this way.
Better leave them to it.

–At least give me a souvenir of you.
–A souvenir?

Something to remember you by.

Look, isn't that your fan?

Thank God we've found it.
Do you have a pencil?

There you are. Your souvenir.

"I am a respectable wife."
My death sentence.

And now I have it in writing. Valencienne!

–Come on, Camille!
–Does this mean it's over?

We always knew that this would happen.

We always knew that this was going nowhere.

I know that's true, but you can see it kills me!

It's not just you, it kills me too.

Can I refuse your love completely?

But decency leaves me no choice,
and so I must behave discreetly.

Then you are lost to me forever?

I've told you that we can't be together.

"It's not allowed!" "It wouldn't do!"

You understand, that's why I love you.

I have to kiss you!

You're not to be trusted!

I know, but I'll explain.

At the first kiss of April, the rosebud opens wide.

You, oh, my darling,
have opened the love I had inside.

I felt there may be something,
I sensed it might be so...

...an overwhelming yearning
my heart had yet to know.

But now I know this feeling,
how can I wish it away?

The rose that blooms in April
is blooming still in May.

The sudden joy of seeing
a glimpse of heaven above.

It fills my very being with overpowering love.

–Oh, Camille!
–Valencienne!

Be careful, please.

Such dangers, ah, but such ecstasies.

I'll leave you, my darling, with a farewell kiss.

But not here.

I know a place where we can go.
There's a place we can be so alone.

Come, let me take you by the hand,
show you ecstasies you've never known.

Deep in the arms of night,
let us share our delight.

Our perfect little rendezvous,
somewhere made for me and you, my love.

You know me...know that I can't resist you.

You'll know that I am part of you...

–Will no one see us?
–...once I've held you and I've kissed you, too.

I can't resist.

Deep in the arms of night,
let us share our delight.

Our perfect little rendezvous,
somewhere made for me and you, my love.

Oh no! The Baroness and Rosillon
are in there, together, alone!

Well, I mean, they're not alone,
they're together.

Oh, no! Here's the Baron! What shall I do?

Right, Njegus, let's have our meeting.

Is Danilo inside already?
Come on, man, out of the way!

Excellency, if you'll excuse me.
How shall I put this?

Excellency! Someone's in there!
It's occupied!

What, there's another meeting?

Well, it's more like an encounter.
Why did I say that?

Oh, I see! Someone's in there with a lady.
It's not Danilo, is it?

No, it's not Danilo, it's Rosillon.

–Rosillon?
–Why did I say that?

But this is wonderful!
This is just what we wanted!

You'll get a medal for this! We've got her!

We've got the married lady he's in love with.
Where's Danilo?

(Why do these things happen to me?)

Quick, let's trap them.
There's another door at the back.

Go and lock it, quickly.

(I know. I'll let them out first, then I'll lock it!)

My dear Count! Wonderful news!
Rosillon's lady has been discovered!

Really? Who is she?

I've no idea.
She's in there with him now.

Njegus is making sure they don't escape.
Let's listen at the door.

Now, Excellency, a gentleman never eavesdrops.

He's saying something about marriage.

Oh, that is good news.
But to whom? Who's the lady?

I'll have a peek through the...
I can't see her face.

Why? Where is it?

She's got her back to the door.

Let me have a look.

No! I want to see.
I mean, I wish to see who she is!

I'll bet it's Olga, that idiot Kromow's wife.

–No, wait, she's turning round.
–Well?

–Oh, my God!
–What?

–Very well, I'll see for myself.
–Don't. Don't look!

–Who is it, for God's sake?
–It's my wife!

–Your wife?
–Yes. Mine.

–Oh, Excellency, there must be some mistake.
–No, no, if only there were.

Well, then you have this one comfort.
It's all for the fatherland.

There are limits!

Open up! Open up!

Poor Rosillon. Caught like a rat in a trap!

Open up! Open up!

–Bonsoir, Messieurs. Did someone call?
–It's Hanna and Camille!

I must be blind. I saw it all!

Oh, Hanna and Camille, I don't know what I feel.
This is the worst day of my life!

–Has someone seen my wife?
–You called, sir?

–Knew it all along!
–My dearest darling, what is wrong?

–Oh, Hanna and Camille!
–You told us how you feel!

Well, I was sort of near the keyhole,
and I saw him and I saw her....

–Ah, how surprising, a voyeur!
–I couldn't see, but I was listening!

I heard this scoundrel proclaim his love.

–He did...but to me!
–Oh, Hanna!

I could've sworn that he was with my wife.

My dearest Camille, repeat what you said!

That was a close one. I thought I was dead!

Although this is gross indecency...
you're trying to hear what you could not see...

...we're not to be blamed, and we're not ashamed...

...to tell you precisely what he said to me.

You want me to share this?

Oh, how will I bear this?

Well, since Your Excellency forces me,
then I will tell you...

...I'll say it again.

At the first kiss of April, the rosebud opens wide.

You, oh, my darling,
have opened the love I had inside.

I felt there may be something,
I sensed it might be so...

...an overwhelming yearning
my heart had yet to know.

But now I know this feeling....

–The man believes him, word for word.
–I stand in some confusion...

...how could I be so wrong?

Such foolish self-delusion,
I should have known it all along.

–Ah, Danilo, are you keeping mum?
–And so farewell to love...

...so I will drive it from me,
I swear to heaven above.

Perhaps your moment's yet to come.

Heavens above, is this farewell?

Ah, yes, your moment's yet to come.

[Applause]

Now that you have heard it word for word,
you know precisely what has occurred.

I have a most important announcement.

What's that? What's that?

About an imminent engagement.
Count Rosillon...and Hanna Glawari.

–Well, this is news to me!
–My God!

Well, that stopped them in their tracks.

Congratulations!

–A thousand curses on her fortune!
–Farewell forever to her fortune!

I must protest...this is a dangerous game.

You have to play it, or she'll take the blame.

–You really want to?
–Are you serious?

–Why ever not?
–The Count and I cannot approve!

No, you must both do what you want to do.

And on the whole, you have my blessing.

It's just that...well....

It's just that what?

Well, love is fine, and so is betrothal...

...marriage is not!

I'm not a man to criticize and even less to moralize.

You want my views on marriage?

It's not made in heaven.
It's made for two, or so they say.

But often, three or four can play.

And sometimes, yes, sometimes,
five or six or seven!

This "marital democracy"
is nothing but hypocrisy.

The wedding cake is quick to crumble,
the man won't be the first to stray.

It's always she who leads the way.
They have a taste for rough and tumble.

Although it's wrong to generalize,
it's clear that marriage is a pack of lies!

Well, Count, it works both ways.

You have to make your marriage fun...
à la Parisienne!

With lots of space for everyone...
à la Parisienne.

A couple makes a lovely home...
à la Parisienne.

But they should both be free to roam...
à la Parisienne.

Rigid morals...tra-la-la-la-la!

Lead to quarrels...tra-la-la-la-la!

I know how marriage ought to be,
and if it's not, it's not for me. No!

All these morals...lead to quarrels....

She knows how marriage ought to go,
and if it doesn't...

...doesn't want to know!

–A marriage should be carefully planned.
–À la Parisienne.

–So no one gets the upper hand.
–Certainly not the men!

–And no one ever makes a scene.
–À la Parisienne.

And no one asks you where you've been.

À la Parisienne!

Rigid morals...lead to quarrels....

I know how marriage ought to be,
and if it's not, it's not for me. No!

All these morals...lead to quarrels....

She knows how marriage ought to go...
and if it doesn't...

...doesn't want to know!

I am raging, I am burning.

That's enough! Yes, that will do!

No, you should stay calm.
Yes, I know I should stay calm.

Very sorry, chère Madame.

If you think this is wedded bliss,
perhaps you'll listen to a story.

Of course, I'm sure it's riveting.
Tell me your tale.

You see, I'm listening.
So let's hear it.

Very well, then...

There once was a radiant princess
in love with the son of a king.

The usual fairy-tale romance,
but this is a tale with a sting!

Their story proceeded slowly.
Perhaps he was cautious or shy.

He couldn't express all his feelings,
and she couldn't understand why.

The princess was proud and impatient
and played him the nastiest trick.

She promised herself to another...
the poor boy was cut to the quick.

He said, "Now I know you, my lady.
Your heart is like ice in your breast."

"I thought you a pearl among women,
but you are as false as the rest!"

"You think that I'm hurting unduly?"

"Ha-ha! Well, that's where you're wrong."

"You think that I'd give you that pleasure?"

I'm quoting the prince in the song.

He said to the princess, "Be happy,
I see now the thing that you are."

He turned on his heels and he left her,
and I'll do the same. Au revoir!

But Count, where will you go?

Where will I go?

Oh, a little place I know.

I'm off to Chez Maxim,
where things are as they seem...

...and all of the chantoozies
are simple honest floozies.

Lolo, Dodo, Joujou, Cloclo, Margo, Froufrou.

These open-hearted ladies
will make a change from you!

He loves me, he loves me! It's true!!

Rigid morals...lead to quarrels....

I know how marriage ought to be,
and if it's not, it's not for me. No!

All these morals...lead to quarrels....

–She knows how marriage ought to go!
–No, I do not want to know...no!

[Cheers and applause]

Lolo, Dodo, Joujou...

Cloclo,
Margot, Froufrou!

[Squealing]

[Applause]

–Mesdemoiselles...Froufrou....
–Ah, Camille!

–Was that them, the grisettes?
–You know about them?

Of course! Which respectable wife
hasn't dreamed of...you know...

...being a painted lady, for just one night?

And isn't this Chez Maxim,
where everything's allowed?

It is. And you really shouldn't be here.

Nonsense. My husband insisted.

"Go with Camille," he said.
"Help him find Danilo."

And anyway, since you're going to marry Hanna...

...why not make a night
of our last night together?

–Have you maybe had enough to drink?
–Not even remotely.

Now where shall we look first?
What's through here?

Through there are all sorts of rooms
for all sorts of purposes.

Oh goodie, can we explore? Please?

Let's take a bottle of champagne with us.

This will do very nicely.
Come along, chop-chop.

Messieurs, welcome to Chez Maxim.
Please make yourselves comfortable.

Champagne?

–I am the Baron Zeta.
–Of course.

Of the principality of Pontevedro.

–It's in the Balkans, all right?
–Of course.

I am Bogdanovitch, Consul General.

Of course, although names and titles
mean nothing to us here....

–I beg your pardon?
–No, Monsieur, here we believe in democracy.

How dare you!

The democracy of...pleasure.

But we are not here for pleasure.
We are with our wives.

Look at this place.

–It's disgusting.
–It's fabulous!

They're not here to keep an eye on us.

We're absolutely here to keep an eye on you!

No, this is a matter of national importance.

You're sure you've never been here before?

–Absolutely.
–Champagne, Monsieur Bogdanovitch?

I just told him my name just now.

Of course, darling.

Is Danilo here?

It is our policy never to reveal the names
or whereabouts of our guests.

Oh, for God's sake, man,
Danilo's here every night.

The whole Embassy knows about Hoohoo and Poupou,
or whatever they're called.

–Really?
–Well, by repute.

–I really couldn't comment.
–We'll wait, then.

Please be our guest. And in the meantime,
hopefully we can entertain you.

Girls!

Is there going to be a show?
I love a show!

Chez Maxim proudly presents the lovely,
the luscious, the lubricious, les grisettes!

[Applause, grisettes cheer]

We're the ladies of the chorus,
and the gentlemen adore us.

Lolo! Dodo! Joujou! Froufrou! Cloclo! Margot!

Walking on the Champs Élysées,
tippy tap and tappy tip.

Swing your body nice and easy,
toss that head and pout that lip.

Tippy tap and tappy tip.
Toss that head and swing that hip.

Pixie boots in patent leather,
clicking down the boulevard.

When they see us all together,
people wonder who we are.

We're the ladies of the chorus,
and the gentlemen adore us.

Lolo! Dodo! Joujou! Froufrou! Cloclo! Margot!

Et moi!

Yippy-I and yippy-ay!
The grisettes are on their way.

Yippy-I and yippy-ee!
We're the toast of gay Paree.

In the dark the men are staring,
trying hard to comprehend.

"Wonder where her underwear begins
and where her stockings end?"

Wriggling and giggling,
and then you've caught them in the trap.

Afterwards, there's wine and laughter,
soldiers making eyes at me.

It's no secret what they're after.
Take me dancing, then you'll see!

We're the ladies of the chorus,
and the gentlemen adore us.

Lolo! Dodo! Joujou! Froufrou! Cloclo! Margot!

Et moi!

[Applause]

[Screams]

[Patrons sing along]

[Applause]

[Orchestra playing reprise]

Excellency, I have a telegram.

–Sorry, but were those the grisettes?
–What telegram?

And isn't that your wife?
It's an urgent dispatch.

I can't believe I missed them.
Extremely urgent.

–Where are they now?
–Njegus, for God's sake, man.

Which one is Froufrou?
Is your wife Froufrou?

It's an urgent telegram
from the Ministry. And it's in code.

–Decipher it.
–Of course!

"If Glawari's melons not secured..."

I think we've established that it's "millions."

All right..."millions."

"If not secured immediately,
then unavoidable state of...."

Sorry, this is a tough one.

–It looks like "bankruptcy"!
–No!

Well, it looks like it.

There is only one way.
We must appeal to her patriotism.

If she cares for the fatherland,
she must marry a Pontevedrian!

–Right!
–Me? –No!

We must find Danilo at all costs.

And our wives.
I can only imagine what mine is up to.

Oh, my God!

How many more shows tonight?

Oh, my Lord.

Oh, it's you! It's all of you!

–Would somebody please give me a cigarette.
–I've got a cigarette!

–Someone do my shoulders.
–I could do that!

–My feet are killing me.
–Well, leave them to me!

–This bodice is really tight.
–Look, just take it off, I don't mind.

–Who are you?
–Your biggest fan.

–What?
–I've watched you so often.

–Where?
–In the theatre of my mind.

[Grisettes gasp, giggle]

Hello, angels.

–Do you know this man?
–Which man?

Me, the happiest man in the world!

Come on, Njegus. Time to move on.

But really, let's keep in touch.
Don't be strangers.

–Sorry about him.
–That's all right. I think he's sweet.

–Danilo, can you do my shoulders?
–With pleasure.

[Trilling]

Bit lower...

...just there.

[Grisettes trilling]

Me too!

Strong hands!

[Grisettes continue trilling]

[Grisettes abruptly
stop trilling]

No, you carry on.
You seem to be enjoying yourself.

–Madame, this isn't what it appears to be.
–Of course not.

Mesdemoiselles, if you could
possibly oblige me....

–Sure, sweetie.
–Anything for you, Danilo!

Whatever you say, lover boy!

–Lover boy! Really?
–You know, just a turn of phrase.

Anyway, I'm glad you're here,
because I have something important to say to you.

I'm all ears.

Fine, no beating around the bush.

I absolutely forbid you to marry Rosillon.

–You absolutely forbid me, do you?
–I absolutely do.

And why would that be?

Because.

–Because what?
–Just because.

No, no. That won't do. I know why.

–It's because you love me.
–Me?

Yes, you. And anyway, who are you
to tell me who I can or can't marry?

Well, it's not just me, it's the fatherland.

It seems your twenty million
must remain in the country...

...and there be fruitful and multiply.

Well, luckily, the fatherland will not suffer.

–I will not marry Count Rosillon.
–You won't? –I will not.

But, you had a rendezvous with him, in that pavilion.

He had one, but not with me.
With someone else. A married lady.

And to save her marriage I took her place.

Bless her, bless her heart.
I adore her, whoever she is.

But at the time I was spitting with rage.

Were you really?

–Why should you care?
–Because....

I...
Eh.

Because...I....

I...

[Groans]

Oh, can't you guess?

No, I'm past guessing.
I want to hear you say the words.

I wish I could.
There must be some other way.

What do you mean?

Music's playing, hear it saying, "I love you."

As we dance, a voice may answer, "I do too."

Can't you hear the music sing our secret song?

Yes, it's true, and yes,
you knew it all along.

We hear the music play.
I feel your body sway.

Your heart is beating fast.
If only love could speak at last.

But since nothing can be said,
if only we could dance instead.

You know that it is true, that I love you.

Can't you hear the music
sing our secret song?

Yes, it's true, and yes,
you knew it all along.

[Applause]

Just say the words!

There you are, Danilo,
Found him, everyone!

Now, come on. Give us your report.

Well, Madame Glawari will not be marrying
Count de Rosillon.

Bravo!

Count Danilo, you are a diplomatic phenomenon.

One does what one can!

But why would Madame Glawari let herself
be compromised like that?

No, no, she's not compromised.

She went to the pavilion, apparently,
on behalf of another lady.

–Another lady?
–A married lady.

–Who?
–That I don't know.

Valencienne, my darling, wonderful news.

It seems our merry widow
will not be marrying what's-his-name, Rosillon.

–Not even a little bit.
–Thank God!

Because it seems his rendezvous
wasn't with her at all.

It wasn't?

No, apparently she was standing in for someone else.

–Ah. –But I wonder who?
–Yes.

Excellency, I'd forgotten.
I found this fan in the pavilion. At Hanna's.

–My fan!
–Oh it's yours, is it?

–I see...
–(I'm done for.)

"I love you."

That's what it says.
"I love you."

That's not your handwriting, is it?

–No, I thought not.
–I must have lost it.

–In that damned pavilion!
–Mirko....

Njegus, on your allegiance, tell me the truth.

Was it my wife you saw
in the pavilion with Rosillon?

Well, it sort of was,
but at the same time, it sort of wasn't.

But mostly, yes, it was.

Very well.

Madame, as of this moment,
I consider myself to be divorced.

Mirko, I can't bear it!

Sir, there must be some misunderstanding.

Hanna, help me.

Honored lady, your arrival is most timely.

I am now free, I am now single.

[Laughter]

My God. Why's that?
Where's Valencienne?

With her lover, for all I know. Look....

So I would like, in the name of the fatherland...

...to ask for your hand in marriage.

You double-dealing old....

Well, I'm honored. But you wouldn't
be doing the fatherland any favors.

I should tell you, that by the terms
of my late husband's will...

...if I were to marry again,
I would lose my whole fortune.

Oh!

Ah!

Hanna, are you saying that if you
married again, you'd be a pauper?

Not a penny to my name.

Hanna, my darling Hanna!

I love you! Oh, how I love you!

Well, you took your time!

I know. It's a boy thing.
It's hard to speak sometimes.

What do you mean? Most of the time
we can hardly shut you up!

I mean about the difficult things. About loving.

–And being loved.
–Yes. Love. It's the hardest thing.

But it's the only thing.

Whenever I'm lost or I'm lonely...

...whenever the sky seems gray....

Whenever the hopes that I've cherished
are crushed or washed away....

However confused I may find myself,
it's best that I stop and remind myself.

There's so much to fight for, so much to gain,
and it's worth all the pain.

Love is worth all of our heartache, all of our sighs.

Love keeps us stumbling onward, tears in our eyes.

Through all tribulation, our true destination is love.

Love is the goal, love is the prize.

Love is worth all of our heartache.
Love shows the way.

When love commands us to listen, we must obey.

Healing and forgiving, you make life worth living.

Love!

Let us live every day for love!

[Applause]

Love's all well and good...

...but doesn't he realize
he's taking you on without any money?

I do.

Well, not actually without any money.

The reason, according to my late husband's will...

...that I would lose my entire fortune,
were I to marry...

...is because my fortune would pass to my husband.

[Spectators gasp]

Who will, of course, pass it on to the fatherland.

Of course.

Well, most of it.

Hanna, that was the sweetest, meanest trick!

Darling, I would marry you
even if you had fifty million.

That's what every girl wants to hear!

Oh God, I forgot...Hanna, will you marry me?

Of course, I will.

[Cheering and applause]

Stop, everyone.

That's enough about love.
What about my wife?

What about this fan? Valencienne?

My darling husband.
You haven't read the other side.

The important bit.
What I wrote in reply. Read it.

"I am a respectable wife."

Forgive me. I really had no idea.

[Laughter]

And now you do.

Why do men never know who we are?

It's because you're completely bizarre!

We're beguiled by the smile in your eyes.

Then hello, surprise, surprise!

You're a wonder, a bundle of joy.

Not a monster who wants to destroy.

Whether wild as a minx, or a child, or a sphinx,
who can tell what the hell she thinks?

[Applause]

Thank you, Renee, Nathan.

You guys are waltzing on
the stage of the Met.

-It's so beautiful to see.
-Thank you.

-You guys have a very
complicated relationship

in this show.

So, tell us a little bit about
the rehearsal process

and how you are finding
these characters.

-Well, it's interesting because
you have to make up

a lot of their history,
'cause it's not in the score.

-Right, right, right.
-And you get hints at it.

-And also, we have one moment
to sort of establish

that we're there
and they're playing a game.

They're sort of, you know,
they've charged each other

with this fight, and he's very
competitive, so it goes on.

But at the same time,
there's so much love there.

You know, it's really, you know,

a Hepburn and Tracy
kind of relationship.

It's fun.

-Yeah, and Hanna is
the type of person

who will not stop loving him
just because he's stubborn.

And so she draws it up.

-Yeah. No, exactly.

So, I have to ask you about
the dancing.

So, we're next to professional
hoofers and dancers.

How did Susan,
as a choreographer,

help you all
find the dance steps

and make you feel comfortable?

Well, she rehearsed us,
I would say, quite a bit.

-A lot.
-We worked hard and we --

And it was a lot of fun.

Listen, I had 10 years of
dancing lessons, right?

-Oh, girl.
-So, just, as a child,

just to kind of not be
embarrassed onstage.

I tried not to trip too often.

But she worked really well
with us,

you know, and he's experienced.

And she has excellent help, too.

So, what she was very good about
finding our limits

and making us look
as good as possible together,

and also with these
great dancers surrounding us

and doing amazing things.

The key factor is it looks like
you're having fun --

It is so much fun!
It is really fun.

In fact, I think I'm gonna add
waltzing to all of my roles

that I do, you know,
before they die.

Well, you guys,
you're just wonderful.

Thank you so much,

and we're just enjoying it
so much.

-So gorgeous.
-Thank you very much.

Now, I have the wonderful
pleasure of speaking with

dynamo director
and choreographer

who's been putting Renee
and Nathan through their paces,

the brilliant Susan Stroman.

-Hello.
-Susan, hello.

It's so nice to see you.
Thank you.

It's an honor
to meet you, really.

You've won just about every
Broadway award that there is.

It's quite astonishing.

But this time
you're directing opera.

-Yes.
-What made you want to take on

"The Merry Widow,"
and for your Metropolitan debut?

-Well, I live not too far away,

so I do come to the opera
quite a bit.

And when I got the call
from Peter, I was thrilled,

and of course, when he said
"The Merry Widow,"

because it's romantic,

because it has a lot of
dance opportunities,

in it, actually --
you know, the waltz,

the second act is a kolo,
and then, of course,

we go to Maxim's
and there's a big can-can.

So, it's really sort of about
the romance

and the relationship
between the two leads.

I just love that
it's an adult relationship.

And so, I was really, really
excited about the piece itself.

But then, of course, to work at
the Metropolitan Opera,

where I'd only been a patron

and looked at that stage

and admired everyone here
so much.

-On this side of the footlights.
-Yes.

What have you found are
the biggest differences

when you're trying to mount
a theater piece for Broadway,

and then you come here

and you're working in
the world of opera?

Well, in the world of opera,
of course,

the vocal and the music is
the real most important thing.

It's the star of the moment,

and so I had to make sure that
all the staging

and all the choreography
was always there

to support the vocal and make it
easy on all the singers

-to really do their best.
-Thank you for that.

Yes. Yes.
And because, of course,

we don't have microphones here,

and on Broadway,
we have mikes,

so they can sing upside down,

but here,
it was really making sure that

it was really good for them

and easy for them
to do their best.

We're here in
Belle Epoque Paris,

which is a bit of a change, say,
from Egypt,

or a lake in Scotland,
wherever we're gonna be.

How did you get this together

and really find this fashion,
this evocative period?

Well, you know,
I have the greatest designers.

Julian Crouch
did a beautiful set,

and we go right to Maxim's.

And then the people
who take us there, of course,

are the can-can girls,
and William Ivey Long has done

beautiful costumes, and they
really evoke the period.

Actually, there are 318 costumes
in this show,

and he really captures the time;
he's quite the genius.

And Paule Constable,
my wonderful lighting designer.

The designers worked
very well together

and were very collaborative
with me,

and I enjoyed
the process very much.

But they really capture
the period.

I love seeing
all the choristers backstage.

I don't think they've ever felt
more beautiful.

So, thank you for that.

Susan, congratulations
on your Met debut.

-Thank you very much.
-Thank you.

I'm joined now by our
Pontevedrian Baron Zeta,

Sir Thomas Allen,
and his young French rival,

Camille de Rosillon,
Alek Shrader.

-Hello, gentlemen.
-Hello, Joyce.

I can't tell you how much
I'm enjoying this.

It's so much fun
watching you both,

and a lot of comedic action
happening out there.

Tom, you've had truly
an illustrious,

legendary career, not only on
the world stages,

but certainly on the stage
of the Met Opera, for sure.

And you're so wonderful
in particular with dialogue.

Did you train in the theater,
as well?

No, not at all.

Where I grew up,

there was an opportunity
when I was a schoolboy,

and there were groups
and what have you doing theater,

but I played rugby
rather more than theater.

But I wish I had --
it's something that I love.

It's a great part of my life.

There's still time
to take some lessons, Tom.

I'll try. I do need them.
I do need them.

And coming from Broadway,
as the director, Susan Stroman,

I'm just curious if working with
theater, Broadway people,

if it's given a different light
and perspective

on the world of opera
to you, Alek.

Well, yeah,
it's just a different take

on the same end product.

You know,
we're doing live theater,

and it's a slightly
different process.

Maybe a little more
broad strokes

that become refined and refined
and refined as you go.

But in the end,
it's all the same

where we're doing this live

and hoping that
everyone's enjoying it.

-Without previews.
-Indeed.

-Exactly.
-It's hard. That's really hard.

But, I mean, the truth is,

during rehearsals and even now,

we look at the dances,
the troupe that they're around.

I won't mention them all
by name,

but they are extraordinary.

I mean, it really
makes us realize

how skilled they are
and how hard they work.

I know they're saying the same
thing about your singing.

-Really?
Yeah, absolutely.

Gentlemen, thank you so much.

Have a terrific
second and third act.

-Thank you so much.
Bye.

Now, I get to speak with

the object of Tom and Alek's
mutual affections,

the brilliant,
effervescent, fabulous,

gorgeous soprano
Kelli O'Hara.

-Hi, Kelli!
-Hello, Joyce.

-We get to finally meet.
-Oh, my gosh,

I'm such a big fan.

And we're neighbors --
Oklahoma, Kansas.

Congratulations on
your Met debut.

And I know you've had
so many successes

and award-winning performances
on Broadway.

But singing at the Met for
the first time together

is really --
I'm sure it's like a dream.

-What are you feeling?
-Oh, it's just -- it's surreal.

It's like it's not happening
to me or something.

It's just really exciting,

and the amount of gratitude
I have is kind of overwhelming.

I'm just really happy
to finally do it.

But what some of your fans
on Broadway

might be surprised to know
is that you actually

went to college
and you studied opera.

-Yes.
-What was it like?

What roles did you perform
in college and --

I did the "Queen of the Night,"
believe it or not.

-Oh, my gosh!
-"What?"

I did "Second Lady."
[ Both laugh ]

-Not quite the same thing.
-No, no,

listen, please --
no, but I was doing

a lot of coloratura repertoire
in college,

and I think as I've grown up,

my voice has dropped
a little bit,

but I'm interested to see now

kind of what's in there
if I go back and work.

You know, if I can get
some of that back.

And I don't know, we'll see.

Did you have to approach
Valencienne any differently

than you would if you were
preparing a Broadway role?

It is quite different.

I mean, in a way, it's the same,
but the style is so different.

It's a different genre.

It's a presentational
form of art.

Sometimes with theater,
you feel like

you're looking in on
someone's private moment.

With opera, everyone's
invited to the party.

-They're both valuable.
-Yeah, and larger than life.

We love that.

Kelli, congratulations, again,
on your debut.

And hope to see you again soon.

Such a fan.

In a few weeks,
I'll be singing the title role

in Susan Stroman's witty new
production of "The Merry Widow."

It's going to be a lot of fun.

And I have to confess
one of my greatest delights

will be wearing the gorgeous
Belle Epoque gowns

of William Ivey Long,

who's won six Tony awards
for costume design.

I'm with him now
in the Met's costume shop,

a busy place to be,
even on a Saturday.

William, thank you
for joining me.

You've had an unparalleled
career in the theater,

and what about opera?
Are you a fan?

Have you designed
for the opera before?

Well, I designed Leonard
Bernstein's "A Quiet Place"

along with "Trouble in Tahiti"
at the Vienna Staatsoper.

And we also did it

at the Houston Grand
and at La Scala, so --

but that was a long time ago.

I've had a drought.
A drought decade or two.

-Starting at the top.
So, that was at the top.

-That was okay, but this is
the Metropolitan Opera,

so I feel that
this is a great treat.

And also, I'm thrilled to work

with this very famous
costume shop,

where everything
is at your fingertips.

So, I'm just --
it's an honor to work here.

Oh, they're gonna so much
appreciate that.

You've done something
a little unusual for the Met

by making these
gorgeous maquettes,

which are just exquisite,
and I recognize these four,

which are my costumes,

and those two are for
Kelli O'Hara,

who plays Valencienne.

Can you describe
each of the costumes

and what inspired them?

First of all, normally,
you do sketches.

You know, it's flat,
two-dimensional.

But because your character

is fashion forward
in a time of great opulence,

so that's hard to imagine.

And I wanted to be able
to communicate

drape and movement and shimmer.

And so I made these maquettes,

which, they help us discover
the character within them.

Because they can see exactly how

a fold is supposed to be
and where it's supposed to be.

They don't have to
sort of interpret.

So, the forms are really helping
the team build these dresses.

These are pretty good
proportions.

These are not
Barbie doll proportions

or fashion school proportions
which are, you know, this tall.

You know, a million feet tall.

This is more or less
human scale,

which is helpful to work with.

So, it goes from the first time
we see her is in black,

-which is this one.
-She is a widow, after all.

-The widow.
-Yes.

-And that's at the embassy ball.
Very grand.

And then we see you
at your house,

and you're entertaining
in your --

-In Pontevedrian style.
-Which we'll soon discover

how Susan Stroman has
interpreted Pontevedrian style.

Well, you've worked with Susan
a lot in the past.

-Tell us about that.
-I've done 30 productions.

30! Oh, my goodness.

We're not even old enough
to have done 30 productions.

That includes ballets and...

-Has she only worked with you?
-It seems so, but no.

We'll say yes.

Yeah, we'll say yes, absolutely.

I'm de rigueur with her
creative spirit, yes.

Oh, fantastic.

Well, I can't wait
to put these on,

and thank you so much for
speaking with me.