"Adeline!!"
The old woman's voice shook the chamber, its walls draped in heavy crimson-black curtains. Through her tear-blurred eyes, the young girl peered past the wooden door, spotting the pointed toes of a woman standing beneath a warm orange spotlight on the grand theatre stage beyond. The mysterious woman's voice drifted in as she spoke to someone beside her.
"You think you can learn to dance in a single night? How many times have I taught you already? You're stiff as a frightened dog too scared to cross the street. Adeline! Come out here and show yourself this instant!!"
The elderly woman's voice cracked like a whip, her gaze fixed on the curtain concealing the child.
"Granny, don't scold her," the younger woman beside her murmured. "She doesn't know any better…"
"We've barely gotten through one scene, and her legs have already given out. She's clumsier than her mother ever was. And she should be grateful I'm not as harsh as her mother used to be. Hmph! Children nowadays—no discipline, no endurance for the arts. Barely any grit at all! How do they expect to grow into proper ladies fit for a household?"
"Oh, Granny, please… I can hardly sleep as it is. Whenever we go to bed she curls up crying under her blanket. And the air-steam machines in the skies make my ears ring all night. Now I have to listen to her sobbing too?"
The young woman's tone brimmed with irritation.
"There, there, hush. You speak without thinking," Grandmother chided. "Do you know why I chose her to be the lead swan of this play…?"
She lowered her voice to a whisper, leaning toward her eldest granddaughter. The whispered words were too faint for the girl behind the curtain to hear.
Minuet: The River Swan – Scene 34: The Slumbering Manuettta
Manuettta raised her pale fan, waving it weakly before addressing the handsome nobleman beneath the tree setpiece.
Manuettta:
My lord! How can this be? Why is the sun scorching so fiercely, as if Apollo himself has unleashed his flames upon this forest? My gown is far too exquisite for such torment. How can a beauty such as I be forced to endure this burning wind, deprived of even a drop of sweet honey to soothe my tongue?
Prince:
I cannot say, my night-blooming flower. But surely Apollo does not look upon us as if we were mere beasts,
he replied confidently, drawing a sharp breath from the maiden.
Manuettta:
Oh—! I feel faint… my lord… I… he—uh…
She collapsed, helpless, to the ground.
Prince:
Ah! My night-blooming flower! Don't drift into slumber before sundown! Wake, my dear night-blossom—wake!
The red curtain swept closed, ending the scene.
End of Scene 34.