“La fanciulla del West” – Act 1

by Giacomo Puccini libretto (English)


FIRST ACT
Inside the “Polka” saloon.

A large, roughly constructed room, triangular in shape, with two walls forming its sides, the one on the right being longer. The rear corner is cut off by a large opening forming a double door, which can be barred from within. Against one side wall, a small staircase leads to a landing projecting over the room like a balcony, from which hang deerskins and coarse draperies of bright colors. Beneath the balcony, a short passage leads into the “dance hall,” as indicated by a sign in red letters. The passage is guarded by a stuffed bear. Near the rear door stands the bar, with glasses, bottles, etc. Behind it, on one side, is a small cupboard without doors, holding dishes; on the other, a small barrel into which the miners deposit their gold dust. Behind the bar, in the center, is a rectangular window with a checkered frame; above the window, in large letters, are the words: “A real home for the boys.” On the same wall hangs a wanted poster offering 5,000 dollars: the amount is clearly visible, as is the name “Ramerrez” and the signature “Wells Fargo.” From the ceiling hang various kinds of characteristic provisions. On one side is a screen of sheet iron to protect people from gunfire; on the other, a large fireplace. Near the front of the stage stands the faro table, with all the equipment for the game; another table stands toward the rear, and yet another near the bar. (Through the large rear door and the window can be seen the valley, with its wild vegetation of oaks and low-growing conifers, all bathed in the blazing light of sunset. In the distance, the snow-covered mountains fade into shades of gold and violet. The brilliant outdoor light, rapidly diminishing, makes the interior seem even darker. Inside the “Polka,” the outlines of objects are barely visible in the gloom. On the left, near the front of the stage, beside the fireplace, the glowing tip of Jack Rance’s cigar can be seen. Near the staircase on the right, Larkens sits on a barrel, his head buried in his hands. Suddenly he rises, takes a letter from his pocket, looks at it sadly, goes to the bar, takes a postage stamp, affixes it to the letter, drops it into the letterbox, and returns to his seat. Outside, in the distance, cries mingle with the plaintive echoes of songs.)
Distant voices
To the “Polka”!
To the “Palms”!
“Hello!”
“Hello!”
(a refrain heard from very far away)
“Far away,
Far away,
how she will weep!...”
(Nick comes out from beneath the stairs with a candle he has lit from a small oil lamp. He lights the candles scattered about, climbs onto a stool and lights the central lamp; he lights the lamps in the dance hall, then goes upstairs to light those in the upper room. The “Polka” suddenly comes to life. Groups of miners begin to enter, returning from the camp.)
 
Harry, Joe, Bello
and others (entering)
“Hello,” Nick!

Nick
Good evening, boys!

Sid and Happy, followed by Billy
“Hello!”

Nick
“Hello!”

Joe, Bello and the others
(humming an American refrain)
“Dooda, dooda, day—”

Harry
(sitting down at the faro table)
Cigars, Nick!

Joe
(slapping a hand on the table)
Whiskey!

Nick
Coming!
 
Bello
Minnie?

Nick
She’s well.

Sid
(having seated himself at the faro table,
to the others gathered around)

Boys, a game of faro! Who’s in?

Harry
I’m in.

Happy
I’m in too.

Joe
Me too.

Bello
“All right!” Who’s dealing?

Happy
(pointing to Sid)
Sid.

Bello
That’s bad news.

Sid
(throwing the cards contemptuously onto the table)
Anyone who wants to shuffle, go ahead.
(Harry shuffles the cards)

Joe
(slapping Sid with his open hand
on the shoulder)

“Hello!”

(Sonora and Trin enter, followed by several miners carrying saddles and equipment, which they noisily throw to the ground; some then go upstairs to the upper rooms, while others head into the dance hall and gather around the gaming table.)
 
Sonora and Trin
Supper, Nick!
What have you got?

Nick
Not much. Pickled oysters...

Sonora
Whatever you’ve got.

Trin
... With whiskey.

Sonora
(clapping Larkens on the shoulders)
“Hello,” Larkens!

Larkens
(sadly, without lifting his head from his hands)
“Hello!”

The miners
(getting ready to play)
Let’s go!...

Sid
Place your bets.
(Nick, bustling about, carries bottles and glasses back and forth between the upper room and the dance hall. He also sets the middle table for Sonora and Trin.)

Joe
(placing a bet)
On the “garden”!

Harry
(doing the same)
On the low cards!

Bello
(doing the same)
On the high cards!
 
The miners
(from the balcony)
Nick, drinks!

Sonora
(to Trin, sitting down
at the table set for them)
Shall I wait for you?

Trin
(from the group of gamblers, to Sonora)
Coming...

Happy
Chips!

Sid
A king... An ace.

Bello
(angrily)
Damn it!

Rance
(to Nick as he passes by,
pointing toward Larkens,
who has lowered his head onto his arms)

What’s wrong with Larkens? Is he ill?

Nick
His usual trouble. Homesickness.
Longing for his homeland. He thinks of his old
Cornwall and his mother far away, waiting for him...

Rance
(relighting his cigar)
What a cursed land, this golden West!

Nick
He’s got gold fever.
Gold poisons the blood of anyone who looks at it.

Rance
And Minnie, why is she taking so long?

(At the faro table,
the gambling grows more intense.)

 
Sid
(to Happy, indicating his bet)
How many dollars?

Happy
Ten.

Sid
(giving him his change)
And ninety makes a hundred.
Jack... Queen...

Joe
Hurrah! Hurray!

Happy
(angrily)
Damn it!

Trin
Damned Australian!

Joe
The three never wins.

Trin
Everything on the three!

Sid
Three... Seven...
(The gamblers bet more and more fiercely; muttered curses and the jingling of coins can be heard.)

Trin
Lost it all. “Goodbye!”
(He leaves the gaming table and sits down at the one where Sonora is eating. At the gaming table, arguments and protests grow increasingly heated. Nick rushes back and forth carrying drinks, cigars, etc. Some miners go upstairs, while others come down; some head to the bar, while others linger at the gaming table, watching the play. More miners of various kinds enter. Billy stealthily approaches the bar, steals some cigars, and leaves. Great patches of stars appear in the cloudy sky.)
 
Nick
(returning from the dance hall,
calling loudly to everyone)

In the dance hall, boys,
they want you to dance!

Sonora
Dance? They must be crazy!
I don’t dance with men!
(to Trin)
Don’t you agree?

Trin
Right.

Sonora
(rising, speaking privately to Nick,
who returns from the bar with the cigar box)

Has Minnie finally made up her mind about me?

Nick
(craftily, playing along with him)
Certainly: I’ve gathered
that you’re her favorite!...

Sonora
(beaming with delight, calling loudly to his companions)
Cigars for everyone!

All
Hurrah!

(Nick hurries to fetch the cigar box and hands out cigars; from the dance hall emerge two young men, dancing.)
 
Trin
(stopping Nick, speaking privately in a low voice)
Nick, what did she tell you?

Nick
(craftily, playing along with him too)
Well, if I’ve understood correctly,
you’re her favorite.

Trin
(beaming with delight)
Whiskey for everyone!

All
Hurrah!

(Nick goes around serving bottles and glasses)

Jake Wallace
(singing outside)
“What are my dear old folks doing far away,
far away, what are they doing back home?
Sad and lonely, my dear old folks
will weep, thinking I’ll never return!”

Nick
(appearing in the doorway)
Boys, let me introduce Jake Wallace,
the minstrel of the camp!
(But already the nostalgic song has touched all those greedy and rough souls: heads are raised, ears are listening intently; the game slows. Those upstairs lean out to watch; in the silence, the clinking of gambling chips gradually fades away. Jake Wallace, the wandering singer, appears in the doorway, singing and accompanying himself on the banjo.)

Jake Wallace
(entering)
“My mother...

(He stops, astonished by the silence that greets him. All the miners, their faces turned toward him, gesture with their hands for him to continue.)
 
libretto by Dmitrii Murashev
 
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