DON JUAN:
(PHANTOM - behind the curtain)
Passarino - go away!
For the trap is set and waits for its prey . . .
(PASSARINO leaves. CHRISTINE (AMINTA) enters. She takes off her cloak and sits down. Looks about her. No- one. She starts on an apple. The PHANTOM, disguised as DON JUAN pretending to be PASSARINO, emerges. He now wears PASSARINO's robe, the cowl of which hides his face. His first words startle her)
DON JUAN:
(PHANTOM)
You have come here
in pursuit of
your deepest urge,
in pursuit of
that wish,
which till now
has been silent,
silent . . .
I have brought you,
that our passions
may fuse and merge -
in your mind
you've already
succumbed to me
dropped all defences
completely succumbed to me -
now you are here with me:
no second thoughts,
you've decided,
decided . . .
Past the point
of no return -
no backward glances:
our games of make-believe
are at
an end . . .
Past all thought
of "if" or "when" -
no use resisting:
abandon thought,
and let the dream
descend . . .
What raging fire
shall flood the soul?
What rich desire
unlocks its door?
What sweet seduction
lies before
us . . .?
Past the point
of no return,
the final threshold -
what warm,
unspoken secrets
will we learn?
Beyond the point
of no return . . .
AMINTA:
(CHRISTINE)
You have brought me
to that moment
where words run dry,
to that moment
where speech
disappears
into silence,
silence . . .
I have come here,
hardly knowing
the reason why . . .
In my mind,
I've already
imagined our
bodies entwining
defenceless and silent -
and now I am
here with you:
no second thoughts,
I've decided,
decided . . .
Past the point
of no return -
no going back now:
our passion-play
has now, at last,
begun . . .
Past all thought
of right or wrong -
one final question:
how long should we
two wait, before
we're one . . .?
When will the blood
begin to race
the sleeping bud
burst into bloom?
When will the flames,
at last, consume
us . . .?
BOTH:
Past the point
of no return
the final threshold -
the bridge
is crossed, so stand
and watch it burn . . .
We've passed the point
of no return . . .