Prima Donna
Sarah Brightman/Michael Crawford Lyrics

"Mystery after gala night"
It says, "Mystery of sopranos flight"
"Mystified, baffled," Sûreté say
"We are mystified, we suspect foul play"

Bad news on soprano scene
First Carlotta, now Christine
Still at least the seats get sold Gossip's worth its weight in gold

What a way to run a business
Spare me these unending trials
Half your cast disappears
But the crowd still cheers
Opera
To hell with Gluck and Handel
It's a scandal that'll pack 'em in the aisles

Damnable
Will they all walk out?
This is damnable

André, please don't shout
It's publicity, and the take is vast
Free publicity

But we have no cast

But André, have you seen the queue?

Oh, it seems you've got one, too

"Dear André, what a charming gala
Christine enjoyed a great success
We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left
Otherwise, the chorus was entrancing
But the dancing was a lamentable mess"

"Dear Firmin, just a brief reminder
My salary has not been paid
Send it care of the ghost by return of post
P.T.O.: no one likes a debtor
So it's better if my orders are obeyed"

Who would have the gall to send this?
Someone with a puerile brain

These are both signed "O.G."

Who the hell is he?

Opera Ghost

It's really not amusing
He's abusing our position
In addition, he wants money
He's a funny sort of spectre
To expect a large retainer
Nothing plainer
He is clearly quite insane

Where is she?
You mean Carlotta? I mean Miss Daaé
Where is she?
Well, how should we know?
I want an answer
I take it that you sent me this note (what's all this nonsense?)
Of course not
Don't look at us (she's not with you then?)
Of course not (we're in the dark)

Monsieur, don't argue, isn't this the letter you wrote?
And what is is that we're meant to have wrote?
Written

"Do not fear for Miss Daaé
The Angel of Music has her under his wing
Make no attempt to see her again"

If you didn't write it, who did?

Where is he?
Ah, welcome back
Your precious patron, where is he?
What is it now?
I have your letter, a letter which I rather resent
And did you send it?
Of course not
As if he would
You didn't send it?
Of course not
What's going on?
You dare to tell me
That this is not the letter you sent?
And what is it that I'm meant to have sent?

"Your days at the Opéra Populaire are numbered
Christine Daaé will be singing on your behalf tonight
Be prepared for a great misfortune
Should you attempt to take her place"

Far too many notes for my taste
And most of them about Christine
All we've heard since we came
Is Miss Daaé's name

Miss Daaé has returned
I trust her midnight oil is well and truly burned?
Where precisely is she now?
I thought it best that she went home
She needed rest
May I see her?
No Monsieur, she will see no one
Will she sing? Will she sing?

Here, I have a note
Let me see it
Please

"Gentlemen, I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature
Detailing how my theater is to be run, you have not followed my instructions
I shall give you one last chance
Christine Daaé has returned to you
And I am anxious her career should progress
In the new production of Il Muto
You will therefore cast Carlotta as the pageboy
And put Miss Daaé in the role of Countess
The role which Miss Daaé plays
Calls for charm and appeal
The role of the pageboy is silent which makes
My casting, in a word, ideal
I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in box five
Which will be kept empty for me, should these commands be ignored
A disaster beyond your imagination will occur
I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant
O.G."

Christine (whatever next?)
It's all a ploy to help Christine (this is insane)
I know who sent this, the Vicomte, her lover
Indeed, can you believe this?

Signora (o traditori, o mentitori) (this is a joke)
This changes nothing
Signora
You are our star (and always will be )
Signora (the man is mad) (we don't take orders)

Miss Daaé will be playing the pageboy, the silent role
Carlotta will be playing the lead

It's useless trying to appease me
You're only saying this to please me
Signor, è vero?
No, no, non voglio udire
Lasciatemi morire
O padre mio
Dio

Who scorn his word beware to those
The angel sees, the angel knows (why did Christine fly from my arms?)
You have rebuked me (Signora, pardon us)
You have replaced me
Please Signora, we beseech you
I must see her (this hour shall see your darkest fears)
Where did she go? (o sventurata) (the angel knows, the angel hears)

Signora, sing for us
Don't be a martyr (disgraziata)
What new surprises lie in store? (ah)

Your public needs you
We need you, too
Would you not rather have your precious little ingénue?
Signora, no, the world wants you

Prima Donna, first lady of the stage
Your devotees are on their knees to implore you
Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?
Think of how they all adore you
Prima donna, enchant us once again
Think of your muse
And of the queues 'round the theatre
Can you deny us the triumph in store?
Sing Prima Donna once more

Christine spoke of an angel
Prima Donna your song shall live again
Think of your public (you took a snub, but there's a public who needs you)
She has heard the voice of the angel of music (those who hear your voice)
(Liken you to an angel) think of their cry of undying support
Is this her Angel of Music? (Follow where the limelight leads you)
We get our opera
She gets her limelight
Angel or madman? (Leading ladies are a trial)

Prima Donna your song shall never die (voice of hell, or of heaven)
You'll sing again (heaven help you, those who doubt)
Orders! Warnings! (And to unending ovation!) (This miscasting)
Lunatic demands are regular occurrences! (Will invite damnation)
Think how you'll shine in that final encore! (Oh fools, to have flouted his warnings!)
Surely, for her sake (sing, prima donna, once more!)
Surely there'll be further scenes
Worse than this!
To see these demands are rejected (I must see these demands are rejected)

Who'd believe a diva happy to relieve a chorus girl whose gone
And slept with the patron? (Christine must be protected)
Raoul and the soubrette (o, fortunata)
Entwined in love's duet
Although he may demur (non ancor, abbandonata)
He must have been with her
You'd never get away
With all this in a play
But if it's loudly sung (this is a game you cannot hope to win)
And in a foreign tongue

It's just the sort of story
Audiences adore
In fact a perfect opera

Prima donna, the world is at your feet
A nation waits
And how it hates to be cheated

Light up the stage with that age-old rapport
Sing prima donna, once more

So, it is to be war between us
If these demands are not met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur

Once more

Gentlemen, if you would care to take your seats?
I shall be sitting in Box Five
Do you really think that's wise, monsieur?

My dear André, there would appear to be no seats available other than Box Five

Serafimo, away with this pretense





You cannot speak, but kiss me in my husband's absence