De zigeunerin Lisetta wil juist haar aria zingen, als ze voor het eerst haar tegenspeler en beoogde minnaar ontmoet: de zelfingenomen Riccardo, die op het verkeerde moment binnenvalt en bovenop de tafel gaat staan.
Who on earth is that?
Your lover, Riccardo... The slave of your desire... The firewood for your passion...
Lisetta looks at him, dumbfounded.Are you... kidding me?
He's all we could afford.
He's all you need, for he's in love with himself.
She grabs her long dress with both hands and turns around to walk away.Don't let a first impression deter you. Look beyond his psysical appearance and what do you see?
A moron?
No, beyond beyond... Signor Riccardo has inherited the biggest wine house in Napoli. He swims in luxury.
And in wine, apparently.
And so could you. Right next to him. Just use your imagination.
Lisetta stares abstractedly in front of her.I've made them believe this is Napoli, so why can't you pretend, only for a moment, that he is your... "sweetheart"?
'Cause I will break his fingers, one by one, if he lays his hands on me
He won't touch you, I promise!
I would tear that ridiculous wig off his head and-
Of course, of course! He will keep a safe distance, I guarantee. His affection will be strictly platonic.
I don't want him to say my name or even look at me! No sweet talking, no air kisses, nothing!
But it's a love story!
Not anymore if I'll catch him.
All right, fine, he will fully ignore you! Now will you sing?!
Sure.
Just in time her voice joins in the music and Valentino steps aside. With a radiant smile Lisetta turns towards the audience and takes no notice of Riccardo who is still occupied with himself and his appearance.Agenda
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© Maarten van der Duin | wildwords, 2011-2021