Tonight or Never Page #3

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Yes, but I want an answer .. after all,

what have you against her?

You can't deny that she has a voice.

I tell you her voice is an organ

of the purest, most supreme ..

And that is just the trouble.

It is nothing .. but an organ.

It is as cold and as passionless as ..

One of these American ice-boxes.

Let me tell you a secret.

No woman can ever be a

great artist without love.

Without passion, without a great

inside flame in her heart.

If she were really an artist ..

She would sing with more than her voice.

She would sing with her heart, and

her soul, and her body .. I did.

Sweet old King Constantine.

He used to say to me: "Bianca darling".

"You are not singing with your voice,

you are singing with your uh ..

Well, never mind what he thought

it was I was singing with ..

I was ..

Oh .. you and your Kings ..

And that was the time

when Kings were .. men.

And that's what your Nella

needs. I don't mean a King.

You know, you're a very

wicked old woman.

And do you know that you're

a very sweet, dear boy.

You flatter me so ..

Come in.

Rudig .. why have I never had a lover?

What?

Answer me.

Don't all great artists have lovers?

My dear, all great artists are lovers.

Oh.

Men fall in love with me .. don't they?

But do you fall in love with men?

For an artist, it is more important

to love .. than to be loved.

To love ..

Rudig .. why do you think

such things, and not tell me?

I was afraid you might misunderstand.

You see .. I'm a man .. myself.

You?

Oh Rudig!

Who is it?

The waiter with the ice your Excellency.

Come in.

You had better not sing Tosca tomorrow.

Why? Why, why, why .. why?

You haven't been yourself since Venice.

No tone, no life.

Yesterday, you gave a

wretched performance.

You were off-pitch twice.

And I heard one very sour note.

You've never heard me sing

a sour note in your life.

You only want to devil me.

Why, you're angry because I haven't

asked you for the latest gossip.

I never gossip.

No?

Oh .. by the way.

Schmitt-Krupps, the German baritone

and Frieda Isambard, from Berlin ..

Have been engaged for the Metropolitan.

What?

With all they can choose, they pick that

hippopotamus Isambard for New York?

She's got the voice.

But she can't get her

hips into a taxi-cab.

Not that I mean to be unkind.

How did she get the engagement?

A young American manager signed her.

"Fletcher" is his name.

He's traveling about Europe, picking

up new stars for the Metropolitan.

He's in Berlin now.

Juanitza .. Schmitt-Krupps .. Isambard.

Anybody but Vago!

Oh well, what do I care?

Conrad.

Yes, Madame?

Would you like to hear me

sing? I'll sing just for you.

I .. I assure you Madame,

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