Tartelet (laughs): Ha, ha, ha! A weaker force of gravity. Point your toes out, sir, point your toes out!
Valdemar: Ah! You scoundrel!
(He kicks Tartelet)
Tartelet (flying into the air): Ah!
(He falls back to the ground)
Valdemar: A weaker force of gravity, sir. A weaker force of gravity. Sh! Someone's coming!
(Eva comes out of the building, dressed as a young Altorian woman)
Eva: The door of my father's house is open to you, gentlemen.
Tartelet: Your.... Ah, yes. Excuse me, miss.
Eva: Your friends are waiting for you.
Valdemar: We'll join them now.
Tartelet (threateningly): Whenever you wish, sir!
(They meet at the door)
Valdemar (in a friendly tone): After you.
Tartelet (in the same tone): Go ahead.
Valdemar (in the same tone): I couldn't possibly.
Tartelet: Well, then, if you insist.
(They both go in at the same time)
Eva (dreamily): My mysterious protector has told me that George will soon recover his sanity, but perhaps for the last time. And this must be the place where our cruel enemy will put him through a trial that would destroy him. Oh, I don't want to be a stranger in his eyes any longer. My reason for following him was to share his danger. I'll make myself known to him, but only to him. Dr. Ox still keeps looking at me, but he hasn't recognized me.
(Enter Ox.)
Ox: There she is! It's really her.
Eva: It's him!
Ox: Just a moment, please.
Eva: My father is waiting for me. If you will excuse me....
Ox: The man who is in there is not your father, and I recognize you.
Eva: Well, I don't know you.
Ox: I don't know what power or what miracle has brought you here, but you are Eva, and you know that I....
Eva: I don't know you, I said.
Ox: All right then, I was mistaken. To tell the truth, I'm not sorry. It would have been painful for me to let the young lady of whom I spoke witness what is going to happen here.
Eva: What is going to happen?
Ox: It would have been painful for me, I say, to have her present, not at her fiances madness, but at his death.
Eva (forgetting herself): He's going to die! George!
Ox (forcefully): As you see, I was not mistaken.
Eva: Well, yes. I gave myself away. Yes, I'm Eva, but what do you expect now that you have forced this confession from me? What do you want from me?
Ox: I want to try one last time to convince you, and to soften your heart.
Eva: And what about your heart? Has it softened? Have you finished persecuting me, then?
Ox: This is not you, it's him! The rival I hate!
Eva: But he is my whole life.
Ox: Don't say that!
Eva: He is my very soul.
Ox: Hush!
Eva: He is all my happiness, all my love.
Ox (forcefully): Enough! Enough, I tell you.
Eva: And you think you can win me by murdering him! You kill me, and you want me to love you! Well, let me tell you this: I feel as much hostility toward you as you feel toward George, whom I love. You hate him. I hate you.
Ox (beside himself): Eva! But what is happening to me? The anger and hatred in your voice have penetrated to the very depths of my soul. Ali! Perhaps I could resign myself to the pain of not being loved by you. But to be hated? Never! Have I uncovered the most fearsome secrets of nature, and acquired superhuman knowledge, only to have it all crumble miserably at the feet of a child? Ali! It's just as Captain Nemo said: it's in your own heart that she will find weapons to use against you. Ah, yes! My pride is vanquished, yes, my heart is broken. I beg you, I entreat you, I fall at your feet. Don't hate me, Eva. Don't hate me.
(He drags himself after her and tries to take her hand)
Eva (pulling her hand away): Leave me alone. Leave me alone!
Ox: Have pity on me, Eva. Listen. Do you want me to be your humble servant, your slave?
Eva: No!
Ox: Well then, here. A thousand times more. I'll be his slave.... George's. Ali, that would be a very great sacrifice, and very painful, I can tell you. Never mind. Just say a word of compassion, of pity, and I'll do it. Only don't hate me. Don't hate me. Eva, don't hate me!
(Enter Volsius)
Volsius: My daughter!
(Eva slowly enters the house. Ox makes as if to follow her Volsius bars his way, and they stare at each other; face to face)
Ox: Eva !
Volsius: "The woman shall crush thy head under her heel."
Ox (still watching Eva): Has this terrible curse come down through the centuries to fall on me? No, I'll triumph over this love. I'll tear it out of my heart. Ah, but I can't! I'll never be able to! "The woman will crush thee under her heel."
he scene changes)
An immense square surrounded by palaces of a special architecture. The walls are built of precious stones and the most beautiful marble. Gold and silver are everywhere. There is a dazzling light, which has all the intensity of electric lights.
(A magnificent celebration is under way. Full goblets are passed among the groups)
(Enter George, Eva, Ox, Tartelet, Valdemar, Altorian men and women)
(BALLET)
(A ballet performed by Altorian women is abruptly interrupted at its height by a great sound of bells and drums. George rushes in among the dancers, followed by the others.)
George: The hour has struck, and the gigantic project is being accomplished at this very moment. Through these colossal gates, which I opened with my own hands, I saw the sea pour into the abyss with a roar. I saw it fall in enormous cataracts, and the resounding noise of its fall was answered by the prolonged rumbling of subterranean fires. It seemed as if that whole mass of fire was in revolt against an enemy invasion, and great clouds of purple smoke rose up from the struggle of those two furious elements. Sing! Drink! Dance! You have achieved an unparalleled accomplishment, a glorious triumph of man over nature, a magnificent spectacle, which anyone would give his life to see.
(Enter Volsius)
Volsius: And soon you will all pay for it-with your lives,
All: Ah!
Eva: What did he say?
Ox (sarcastically, in a powerful voice): He said, poor fools that you are, that a terrible cataclysm is about to occur, which you yourselves have brought about. The water that you have sent rushing into the planet's central furnace will not extinguish it, but will be transformed into thick vapors, which will overturn and destroy everything, and the wreckage of this planet will be scattered through outer space.
George (delirious): Well, they'll take us with them to other solar systems.
Volsius: I tell you, Altor has only a few more minutes to live.
George (picking up a goblet): Let's drink, my friends, let's drink. If death is to strike us down, let's die with a final song of triumph on our lips.
Eva: Let's die with a final prayer.
Half of the people: Yes, yes! Let's drink! Let's drink!
The other half (bowing): Let's pray.
(Those on one side begin to dance, while those on the other side pray.)
Suddenly, there is a frightful explosion. Everything collapses at once in smoke and flames and is swallowed up. Nothing is left but a few shapeless ruins. The sky is covered with clouds crisscrossed by flashes of lightning. Thunder rumbles. All the characters are knocked down and appear to be dead. Only Ox and Volsius remain standing. They look at each other defiantly. A curtain of smoke rises slowly toward the friezes and gradually hides the ruins and the people.
The salon of Andernak Castle as it appeared in the first scene of Act L George is lying on a sofa, with Eva kneeling beside him. Mme de Traventhal is beside Eva. Tartelet is standing a little to one side. Volsius and Dr. Ox are at the patient's bedside.
Mme de Traventhal: The poor lad. This is not the condition I had hoped
to find him in when he came back.
Eva: Oh God! Will he live? And if he does, will he ever recover his sanity?
Tartelet (aside): Alas! I'm very much afraid he may not.
Volsius: Don't give up hope, my child. Dr. Ox and I, between us,l9 may bring about a double miracle.
Ox: Between us? What do you mean by that?
Volsius: You are a powerful incarnation of that science for which the body is everything, and which believes in no future life. I, on the other hand, am a humble believer, and I consider our earthly environment as nothing. Restore life to this body. Say to it, "Rise up and walk!" I will do all in my power to rekindle his reason and restore calm and strength to his immortal soul.
Ox: You want me to save him? Me?
Eva: "I will be your slave and his, if I am no longer hated," you told me. I renounce all hatred. Save him.
(He pours a few drops of a potion from a vial onto George's lips)
Ox: And now, wait!
Tartelet: Let's wait. (He sees Valdemar enter:) Valdemar, sh!
(He signals to him not to make any noise)
Valdemar (in a low voice, drawing Tartelet to one side): Yes, Tartelet, it's me. I'm very happy but also very upset.
Tartelet: What's the matter, then?
Valdemar: I saw Babichok again. She was waiting for me, but she was also waiting for my diamond, and you know, back there, on the planet, where it was worthless, I foolishly threw it away.
(He bursts into tears.)
Tartelet: Yes, and I picked it up. I did!
Valdemar (sadly): Ah, you picked it up, Tartelet?
Tartelet: And I'm going to give it back to you, Valdemar.
Valdemar: You're giving it back to me? Tartelet, my friend! We'll present it to Babichok, both of us, and we'll marry her, both of. ... No!
Ox: Look, his eyes are about to open. His mouth is about to speak. He's raising himself up.
George: Ah!
Ox: He's speaking.
George (completely delirious): Where are we? Ah! The center of the earth. Eva is going to die. She is saved! Now.... The sea.... Atlantis, my kingdom, and my triumph.
Eva: Alas! He's still in the grip of madness.
Volsius: Now it's my turn.
(He goes over to the organ and begins to play)
George: Altor! The planet Altor! A whole world annihilated. Some were singing and drinking. Others were praying. (During this last speech, the scene has changed and represents a sort of aerial cathedral) They're praying. And here is the heavenly sanctuary. I hear angel voices. Ah, I feel a healing calm spreading throughout my entire being. My forehead is cooler and the veil that obscured my thoughts is lifting. Yes, yes! I remember. I see. I recognize you, all of you. (Taking Eva's hand.) Eva! Ah, dear Eva! I love you. No more mad dreams. I'm yours and yours alone-forever.
Valdemar: I'm yours, Babichok. Your Valdemar.
Tartelet (giving him the diamond): Your Valdemar and his diamond!
(Valdemar throws himself into Tartelet's arms)
Volsius now plays a kind of Hosanna. The cathedral is transformed again. A shining Gloria appears at the back, surrounded by angels. Even Ox, overcome by the sublimity of this vision, bows his head.
THE END
he first review was written by a professional Parisian reviewer, Arnold Mortier, who, year after year, set down his impressions and feelings in books entitled Les soirees parisiennes 18xx (The Parisian Evenings of 18xx) and signed "A Gentleman Sitting in the Orchestra" ("Un monsieur de l'orchestre"). These books were published every year by the Parisian publisher Dentu. Mortier wrote his review just after the opening night performance, November 25, 1882. This review was written in French and was translated by Edward Baxter.
The second review was published in the New York Times, December 19, 1882 (page 2, column 1). The author, who is unknown, was probably the Paris correspondent for the Times. This review was written in English on December 4, 1882.
JOURNEY THROUGH THE I1vPOSSIBLE
this play had been abandoned by its authors several times, taken up again, then abandoned once more. It must have been tempting to use M. Verne's most popular novels and the most important of his extraordinary and curious short stories, which have brought pleasure to children the world over, to borrow an episode here and a character there and turn it all into a kind of serious fairy tale in which rondeaus and couplets would be replaced by soliloquies and lectures, but d'Ennery, with that profound knowledge of the theater that is one of his greatest strengths, had acknowledged at first that it could not be done. What made him change his mind, I cannot say. The fact remains that last spring he finally promised to give M. Cleves the long-desired play.
I must point out first of all that the manager of the Porte-SaintMartin staged a very lavish production of the play, that he provided d'Ennery and Verne with everything they needed to make it a success, and that, all in all, the production is very beautiful and very elegant.
My one criticism of the production is that it lacks imagination, novelty, and ingenuity. The sets are lovely, but we are familiar with them all because we have seen them countless times in countless stage plays. The costumes are dazzling, often graceful, but they lack originality. The ballets are brilliant, danced by pretty girls as scantily clad as possible. They must have cost M. Cleves a pretty penny. He has never done anything better and never spent more, but the little poetic note, so essential to ballets, even in fairy tales, is totally absent. In short, a great deal of money went into this production, but very few ideas.
ACT I: THE EARTH
Act I opens as a private drama, in the immense hall of a castle, with high vaulted ceilings. It must surely not be easy to heat that room. Note that we are in Denmark.
Following the announcement, "Doctor Ox!" a low whispering is heard among the spectators, who have possibly not forgotten Dupuis in the operetta by Offenbach.
It is not Dupuis who comes on stage, however, but Taillade,4 as Doctor Miracle, dressed all in black, sombre and diabolical, as befits a character who is to portray the Evil Genie for an entire evening.
To oppose him, Joumard, looking the perfect clergyman, is the incarnation of the Good Genie.
In the cheery old fairy tales of our fathers' time, these two genies were invariably portrayed by two little women with no talent whatsoever, pleasant-looking creatures who kept the show moving along by holding out their magic wands. Mlle Mariani, Mlle Delval, and many others became specialists in this genre. Is it not time, perhaps, to return to that practice?
There is an organ in the play at the Porte-Saint-Martin, as there is in the one at the Ambigu.5 This is a luxury that the popular theaters have not often indulged in. While Joumard pretends to be eliciting dulcet tones from the instrument, a celestial apparition lights up the backstage area. It is the archangel Michael overthrowing the Devil. The effect is somewhat poetic, except that the wires supporting the good and evil angels seem to me to be too heavy. It destroys the illusion, but it is more prudent, and besides, it puts the lie to the proverb "No one is obliged to do the impossible."
At the end of the first scene, all the characters drink a potion, which instantly transports them to Naples.
This is referred to in the hall as the "express-train beverage." Is there a sleeping-car in the bottle?
No sooner are we in Naples than the journey begins. The heroes descend to the center of the earth through the crater of Vesuvius. And Dailly6 is a member of the exploration party-thank God!
My goodness, if I am ever in grave danger, if I am about to be shipwrecked at sea, in a carriage drawn by a terrified horse, or in a balloon with the gas escaping through a fatal tear, I hope-and this is a very selfish wish on my part-I hope Dailly will be nearby. I will look at his round, honest, constantly beaming face, his cheerful mouth, to which fear is powerless to bring a scowl, and come what may, I will laugh. I will keep laughing, and if I sink beneath the waves, if I crash onto the cobblestones, I will go down laughing. Anything can be endured, if Daill
y is there.
The descent to the center of the earth occurs in a very uncomplicated manner. For a moment Taillade and young Volny can be seen painfully making their way along a rock that looks like a bridge across the abyss. Then the sets begin to rise, not only the backstage tapestries, but the framework and all the scenery. This rise, which simulates a descent, is extremely well contrived, and is a fine tribute to M. Courbois, the Porte-Saint-Martin's highly skilled set designer.
We travel through diamond country, where-wonder of wonders, and very difficult to explain in a play that claims to be scientific!-the diamonds are found already cut. I would encourage the set designer, M. Poisson, to examine the tremendous difference between a cut diamond and a rough one. Then we reach the region of stalactites, reminiscent of the interior of the cave in Monceau Park,7 but on a larger scale.
Enter the degenerate creatures, the inhabitants of the center of the earth. They are clothed in ash-colored rags, their long hair is dirty gray, and their faces are green and deathly pale. These citizens of the earth's entrails appear to be very ill indeed.
"Their bowels must ache from living in the bowels of the earth," said someone sitting close to me.
Joumard takes up his violin and plays them a tune by M. Lagoanere,8 and the degenerate creatures, charmed and ecstatic, withdraw, seeming to murmur "encore."
At last we come to the region of fire, the eternal red backdrop, with copper lame, gold sequins, and strips of golden gauze.
Now comes the ballet of the Salamanders, which I personally did not much care for, but which produced a tremendous effect. It is a hodge-podge of leotards representing silver coats of mail, with steel fittings and steel sequins, costumes of fiery red and golden yellow, diamonds, pearls, a whole host of shining, glittering, shimmering, flashing things, a quantity of costly accessories, all lit up by a garish light, to which is added, toward the end, the red glow of Bengal lights. It is the ultimate in gaudiness.
There is nothing artistic whatsoever about the end of this act, but it was a hit this evening and will probably be a hit in the days to come-which, for M. Cleves, is all that matters.