{"product_id":"m-butterfly-isbn-9780525533719","title":"M. Butterfly","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003eWinner of the Tony Award for Best Play, nominated for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, and s\u003c\/b\u003eoon to be back on Broadway in a revival directed by the \u003ci\u003eLion King\u003c\/i\u003e's Julie Taymor, starring Clive Owen\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A brilliant play of ideas… a visionary work that bridges the history and culture of two worlds.\"—\u003cb\u003eFrank Rich, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eBased on a true story that stunned the world, and inspired by Giacomo Puccini's opera \u003ci\u003eMadama Butterfly\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eM. Butterfly \u003c\/i\u003ewas an immediate sensation when it premiered in 1988. It opens in the cramped prison cell where diplomat Rene Gallimard is being held captive by the French government—and by his own illusions. He recalls a time when Song Liling, the beautiful Chinese diva, touched him with a love as vivid, as seductive—and as elusive—as a butterfly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow could he have known that his true love was, in fact, a spy for the Chinese government—and a man disguised as a woman? The diplomat relives the twenty-year affair from the temptation to the seduction, from its consummation to the scandal that ultimately consumed them both.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eM. Butterfly \u003c\/i\u003eis one of the most compelling, explosive, and slyly humorous dramas ever to light the Broadway stage, a work of unrivaled brilliance, illuminating the conflict between men and women, the differences between East and West, racial stereotypes—and the shadows we cast around our most cherished illusions.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe original cast included John Lithgow as Gallimard and BD Wong as Song Liling. During the show's 777-performance run, David Dukes, Anthony Hopkins, Tony Randall, and John Rubinstein were also cast as Gallimard. Hwang adapted the play for a 1993 film directed by David Cronenberg, starring Jeremy Irons and John Lone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eTEXT OF THE BROADWAY \u003cb\u003eREVIVAL\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"A brilliant play of ideas … a visionary work that bridges the history and culture of two worlds.\"—\u003cb\u003eFrank Rich, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Audaciously imaginative … big in conception and theme, David Henry Hwang joins the first string of American playwrights.\"—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eVariety\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Just when you've seen every possible coupling, \u003ci\u003eM. Butterfly\u003c\/i\u003e presents one of the most provocative and touching of all.\"—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Hwang has something to say and an original, audacious way of saying it.  A rarity on Broadway.\"—\u003cb\u003eEdwin Wilson, \u003ci\u003eWall Street Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cb\u003eDavid Henry Hwang\u003c\/b\u003e is an acclaimed playwright, screenwriter, and librettist. He won the 1988 Tony Award for \u003ci\u003eM. Butterfly\u003c\/i\u003e. He sits on the boards of the Dramatists Guild, Young Playwrights Inc., and the Museum Of Chinese in the Americas (MOCA). He has been named a Fellow of United States Artists and a Ford Foundation Art of Change Fellow. He currently writes for and produces Showtime's\u003ci\u003e The Affair\u003c\/i\u003e, and is on the Playwriting Faculty of the Columbia University School of the Arts Theatre Program.ACT ONE\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e SCENE 1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard's prison cell. Paris. 1986.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Lights fade up to reveal RENE GALLIMARD, 40s.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Butterfly, Butterfly . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He speaks to us.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I am confined to this cell day and night. And yet, I've found      prison to be something of a refuge. This is no doubt due to the      fact that I'm not an ordinary prisoner. You see, I'm a celebrity.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Pause)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I never dreamed this day would arrive. I've never been considered      witty or clever. In fact, as a young boy, in an informal poll      among my grammar school classmates, I was voted \"least likely to      be invited to a party.\" It's a title I managed to hold on to for      many years. Despite some stiff competition.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Pause)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But now, how the tables turn! Look at me: the life of every social      function in Paris. Paris? Why be modest? My fame has spread to      London, Tokyo, New York. Listen to them! In the world's smartest      parties. I'm the one who lifts their spirits!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With a flourish, Gallimard directs our attention to another part      of the stage.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e SCENE 2\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A party. 1986.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Well-dressed MEN and WOMEN make conversation. Gallimard observes      them from his cell.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 1: And what of Gallimard?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 1: Gallimard?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 2, Man 2, and Woman 3: Gallimard!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 1: He still claims not to believe the truth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 2: What?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 1: Still?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 2: Even since the trial?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 1: Yes. Isn't it mad?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 1:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Laughing)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He says . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 1 and Woman 3: . . . it was dark . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 1 and Woman 1: . . . and she was very modest!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 2: So-what? He never touched her with his hands?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 1: Perhaps he did, and simply misidentified the equipment.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 2: A compelling case for sex education in the schools.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 3: To protect the national security!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 1: Church can't argue with that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 2: That's impossible!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e All: How could he not know?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 1: Simple ignorance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 2: For twenty years?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 2: Time flies when you're being stupid.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 3: Well, I thought the French were ladies' men.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 1: It seems Monsieur Gallimard was overly anxious to live up      to his national reputation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 2: Instead, he's become a national embarrassment.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 2: A laughingstock.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 1 and Man 2 : A fool.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 3: Actually, I feel sorry for him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 1: A toast! To Monsieur Gallimard!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Woman 2 and Woman 3: Yes! To Gallimard!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e All: To Gallimard!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Man 1: Vive la diffŽrence!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They toast, laughing. Lights down on them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e SCENE 3\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard's cell.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: You see? They toast me. I've become patron saint of the      socially inept. Can they really be so foolish? Men like that-they      should be scratching at my door, begging to learn my secrets! For      I, Rene Gallimard, you see, I have known, and been loved by . . .      the Perfect Woman.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Pause)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Alone in this cell, I sit night after night, watching our story      play through my head, always searching for a new ending, one that      redeems my honor, where she returns at last to my arms. And I      imagine you-my ideal audience-who come to understand and even,      perhaps just a little, to envy me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Over the house speakers, we hear the opening phrases of Madame      Butterfly)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In order for you to understand what I did and why, I must      introduce you to my favorite opera: Madama Butterfly. By Giacomo      Puccini. First produced at La Scala, Milan, in 1904, it is now      beloved throughout the Western world.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Pause)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And why not? Its heroine, Cio-Cio-San, also known as Butterfly, is      a feminine ideal, beautiful and brave. My parents took me to the      opera only once-as a boy of twelve. I got all dressed up as if for      Christmas Mass-and headed into the city to our provincial opera      house. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a man in a      velvet uniform showed us to our plush red seats. Then the room got      very quiet, and all the lights went dark. As the curtain rose, I      saw . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (PINKERTON [played by the actor who will portray MARC], an      American naval officer, enters) \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Lieutenant Benjamin Franklin Pinkerton of the U.S. Navy. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Pinkerton lip-syncs over a recording of the \"Dovunque al mondo\"      aria from the opera)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The tenor in his sailor suit sang with such power and beauty.      Sweeping my heart towards far-off lands-where a man who loved      adventure finds himself with all the world-and a beautiful girl-at      his feet. At the time, I barely understood the story. All I really      heard-and felt-was the music. So grand and majestic that it      carried me away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e SHARPLESS (played by the actor who will portray TOULON) enters.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinkerton: Consul!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: The Honorable Sharpless, United States Consul to Japan.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinkerton: Milk, punch, or whiskey? \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Over the years, I came to understand what they're      actually singing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sharpless: Whiskey. So what's her name?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinkerton: Cio-Cio-San. Her friends call her Butterfly. I'm      marrying her in Japanese fashion: for 999 years.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sharpless: That's honorable.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinkerton: With the right to cancel my contract every month!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sharpless: That's not so honorable.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinkerton: And you know how much she cost?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sharpless: Pinkerton! You're not buying her!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinkerton: True, it's more like a rental. A hundred yen!      That's-what?-a dollar?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sharpless: Is there any chance-you love her?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinkerton: I'm really excited, does that count?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sharpless: So you're going to break her heart.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinkerton: I must have her, pin those delicate wings with my      needle, even if they break. America forever!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The American national anthem theme from Madame Butterfly creeps in      over the speakers. Pinkerton and Sharpless lip-sync their duet,      then exit. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Today, of course, I realize that women who put their      total worth at roughly one American dollar are quite hard to find.      But when I was a boy, the closest we came was in the pages of      girlie magazines. I first discovered them at age ten. In my      uncle's house. In his closet-all lined up-my body shook. Here were      women-a shelfful-who would do exactly what I wanted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The \"Love Duet\" creeps in over the speakers. The upstage special      area reveals a PINUP GIRL (the actress who will later play RENEE)      in a sexy negligee.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: I know you're watching me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: My throat . . . it's dry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: You want to see, don't you?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Yes. I want to see.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: Of course you do. Want make to take these off? These      flimsy little things?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Yeah, take them off!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: Oh, you are bad.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Yes, I am bad. I'm going to look at you-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: So you might as well see-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Whether you like it or-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: -everything.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Oh.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: All of me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Oh my god.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: It's what you want, right?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Huh?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: Nothing left to the imagination.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Yeah, that's what I want.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: I want that too.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: You do?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: To show myself to you-without shame.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I-wouldn't have guessed that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: So what are you going to do?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: What?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: Now that you've got me, where you want me?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: That's right.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: So?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I've got you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: So do it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I will!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: Do it now.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Wait, I just . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: What's wrong?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Nothing! I just need a little more . . . time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pinup Girl: Guess you're not so bad after all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Blackout on Pinup Girl.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (To us)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I closed the magazines. Put them back up on the shelves. And never      went into my uncle's closet again. But on that night, at the      opera, my body shook once more-with the entrance of Butterfly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Music from the opera plays on the house speakers, accompanying a      display of Japonaise. Perhaps we see Butterfly's shadow)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As she glides past, beautiful, laughing softly behind her fan, I      found myself sighing with hope. Even the son of a butcher could      dare to believe, like Pinkerton, that I deserved a Butterfly. She      arrives with all her possessions in the folds of her sleeves, lays      them all out, for her man to do with as he pleases. Even her life      itself-she bows her head as she whispers that she's not even worth      the hundred yen he paid for her. He's already given too much, when      we know he's really had to give nothing at all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e SCENE 4\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ƒcole Nationale. Aix-en-Provence. 1955. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e MARC enters.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Oh god, turn that blasted wailing down!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Music out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Sorry, Marc, I was just-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Aren't you coming with us?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I can't. I'm writing a paper on Commodore Perry's      expedition to Japan, and-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: That can wait! We are going to Dad's villa in Marseille! You      know what happened last time?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Of course I do!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Of course you don't! You never know. . . . They stripped,      Rene!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Who stripped?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: The girls!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Girls? Who said anything about girls?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Rene, we are a buncha university guys goin' to the beach.      What are we gonna do-talk philosophy?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: What girls? Where do you get them?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Who cares? Word gets around. Anyway, they come. Wave after      wave of hot little lemmings. Crashing up onto our shore.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: You mean, they just-?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Before you know it, every last one of them-they're splashing      around the waves. When the moon reflects off the water, you can      see just enough-not too much-smooth young flesh, jiggling boobs,      tight round asses; just enough, to make them all-perfect. You      reach out and whatever you grab-will not disappoint. You're in      there, going at it, on and on for as long as you can stand.      Feeling like a god.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: What happens in the morning?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: In the morning, you're ready to talk some philosophy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: With the girls?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Huh? No, they're gone by then. That's the beauty part! It's      perfect for a guy like you, really.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: What do you mean by that?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: You seem to develop a speech impediment every time you come      face-to-face with a pair of boobs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I just-I don't wanna say anything wrong.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Great, see? They don't even have to say yes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: But what about-the wine? Dinner? Candlelight?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Oh my god. Moonlight's not good enough for you? Look, you're      always gonna stay a virgin-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I'm not a virgin!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: -until you learn to take what you want. I mean, you're not      even bad-looking. So how 'bout it?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Maybe next time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Fucking hopeless.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc walks over to the other side of the stage and starts waving      and smiling at women in the audience.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (To us)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e We now return to my version of Madame Butterfly and the events      leading to my recent conviction for treason.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Gallimard notices Marc making lewd gestures at the audience)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc, what are you doing?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: Rene, there're a lot of great babes out there. They're no      doubt looking at me and thinking, \"Ah! A sophisticated Frenchman.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: This is my story, not yours.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc: More's the pity.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (To audience)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Ë tout ˆ l'heure.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marc exits, leering.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e SCENE 5\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard's cell.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: In Act Two, Pinkerton's returned to America, and      Butterfly has given birth to their child. Three years she has      faithfully waited for him to return, even turning down a marriage      proposal from a Japanese prince. Finally, she spots in the harbor      an American ship-the Abramo Lincoln!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Music cue: \"Flower Duet\")\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This is the moment that redeems her years of waiting. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e AGNES enters.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Agnes: Aren't you ready yet, dear? I'm running late.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She helps him change into his tuxedo.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: You're not coming with me tonight?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Agnes: I have the wives' meeting! It's very important for me to      establish myself on the female circuit, you know. I'm actually      becoming quite good at mah jongg.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (To us)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I married a woman older than myself-Agnes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Agnes:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (To us)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Agnes (cont.): I grew up in Australia, among criminals and      kangaroos. My father was ambassador there.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Hearing that brought me to the altar-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Agnes exits)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e -where I opted for a dose of practicality. An unsophisticated boy      from a provincial town could still manage a quick leap up the      career ladder. She may not be my fantasy woman, but she could help      me reach the far-off lands of my dreams.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Pause)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I married at age twenty-two. I was faithful to my marriage for      five years. But practicality had long since lost its charm by the      time we arrived in China. The truth is, I yearned to feel more.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (SONG enters-dressed as Cio-Cio-San)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And so that night, as a junior-level diplomat in puritanical      Peking, in a parlor at the Swiss ambassador's house, during the      Reign of a Hundred Flowers, I first saw her . . . singing the      death scene from Madame Butterfly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e SCENE 6\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Swiss ambassador's house. Beijing. 1964.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The upstage special area now becomes a stage. Several chairs face      upstage, representing a parlor. A few \"diplomats\" in formal dress      enter and take seats. Orchestral accompaniment on the tape is now      replaced by a simple piano. Song performs the death scene from the      point where Butterfly uncovers the hara-kiri knife.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: The ending is devastating. Pinkerton sends his American      wife to pick up Butterfly's child. The truth, long deferred, has      come to her door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Song, playing Butterfly, sings the lines from the opera in her own      voice-which, though not classical, should be decent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Song: \"Con onor muore \/ chi non pu˜ serbar \/ vita con onore.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Simultaneously)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Death with honor \/ Is better than life \/ Life with dishonor.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (Song proceeds to play out an abbreviated death scene. Everyone in      the room applauds. Song takes her bows. Others in the room rush to      congratulate her. Gallimard remains with us)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They say in opera the voice is everything. Yet here-here was a      Butterfly with little or no voice-but she had the grace, the      delicacy. I believed this girl. I believed her suffering. I wanted      to take her in my arms-so delicate, even I could protect her, take      her home, pamper her, ease her pain.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Over the course of the preceding speech, Song has broken from the      upstage crowd and moved towards Gallimard.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Song: Excuse me. Monsieur . . . ?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: Oh! Gallimard. Mademoiselle . . . ?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Song: \"Mademoiselle\"? How charming. Song Liling.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: A beautiful performance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Song: Oh, please.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I usually-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Song: You embarrass me. I'm no opera singer at all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I'm so often disappointed by Butterfly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Song: I can't blame you in the least.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I mean, the story-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Song: Ridiculous.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gallimard: I like the story, but . . . what?","brand":"Plume","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305531461861,"sku":"NP9780525533719","price":16.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780525533719.jpg?v=1767731999","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/m-butterfly-isbn-9780525533719","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}