Quelle triste folie te fait manquer � ton destin?
Homme fait pour aimer, quelle erreur est la tienne!
Homme fait pour savoir, qui t'aveugle � ce point!
Tu n'as pas effleur� la coupe de la vie!
Tu n'as pas �pel� l'amoureuse sagesse!
(avec charme, avec s�duction)
Assieds-toi pr�s de nous, couronne-toi de roses;
rien n'est vrai que d'aimer, tends les bras � l'amour!
Who makes you so severe and why contradict you the flame of your eyes?
Which sad madness makes you miss your destiny?
Man is made to love, this error is the key!
Man is made to know; yet you are blind to this point!
You did not skim the cutting of life!
You have not been shouldered in loves wisdom!
(With charms, with enticement)
Sit you close to me, crown you with roses;
Nothing is truer than that which stretches the arms to love!
The ensuing ovation for her first aria is deafening and once again the conductor must pause the action to accommodate. Dietrich and I are so fascinated to observe the various audience member�s reactions to mother�s performance that we never notice that Allen has made his exit from the box, presumably to join the orchestra for the second act and his highly anticipated violin solo. The music proceeds again, the rest of the act continues, and Dietrich gently takes my hand in his. This time the gesture is completely unmistakable as is the accompanying look in his eyes. I am utterly overwhelmed for this is the first time he has made his unspoken query and actually waited for my answer. This time there is no brusque interruption, no suddenly remembered task that requires his attention, only the eyes of a man who I have already loved almost my entire life looking into mine with an unmistakable combination of both adoration and fear. I would like to hold his hand tighter as a signal but my injury prevents me from doing so. Instead, I place my other hand on top of his and smile back, hoping that the gesture is enough to conquer his fears. The curtain falls on the first act and as the theater is plunged into temporary darkness Dietrich leans forward and kisses me passionately and I find myself instantly responding. He resumes his original position just as the house lights come up for the first act curtain call. We join the thunderous ovation as mother takes her bows completely unaware that despite the discretion of darkness, we had been observed.
Dietrich remains in the box during the first part of the intermission to receive more guests and well wishers but I know that prior to curtain time I will find him in the men�s lounge smoking a cigar and cheerfully arguing politics. (A subject he is very fond of but due to his rather monastic occupation he gets very little opportunity to discuss since no one in the house is thus inclined.) I take the opportunity to make my way down to the musician�s dressing rooms but find Allen�s assigned room unoccupied. I ask the stage manager if he has seen him and he points toward the door leading down to the catacombs. I suddenly know exactly where to find him.
Strains of the Meditation flow out of the cavernous prop room and I find Allen seated on the same throne from the opera Turandot that we played on as children. I smile for when we played on it as children, I always got to be the King�
�Allen?�
He rises instantly as if suddenly discovering the throne was on fire.
�What are you doing here?� he asks sitting down again and resuming his playing.
�I wanted to wish you luck tonight Ally. I also��
He stops playing the instant he hears the cherished nickname.
�Don�t call me that anymore, ever. We�re not children anymore are we Patrick?�
I am astounded by the brusque request but since I realize time is short I cannot take the moment to debate his demand. �All right Allen. As you wish. My apologies.� I step forward and remove a small package from my tuxedo breast pocket. �I wanted you to have this for luck Allen.� I say as I hold the present out to him.
After a considerable pause he puts down his violin and comes slowly down the steps from the dais. He takes the package from my outstretched hand and unwraps it. He removes a gold pin from the box and inspects it. It is in the shape of a violin.
