Davide e Nicoletta
Una tragica farsa in a Prologo and as many acts as you want.
Libretto by Guilielmo Shakespeare
Music by Maestro Bellini Rossini
The time: early C15
The place: Britonia
Prologo
[A peasant dressed as a down-at-heel clown steps through the curtain, bows and addresses the audience]
Anarchico:
[spoken]
Opera-goers, I bid you welcome. I am Anarchico, a true disbeliever, and a story I have to tell. A story that will bring tears to your eyes, the tears of laughter and the tears of tragedy. For the story I tell is no Fairy Tale but is based on truth, a truth so ridiculous that without my prologo you would certainly believe it was from the pen of the Brothers Grimm.
[sung]
We are in Britonia.
‘Tis a small but wealthy town across the lido
From Venezia Americana -
A city state,
That dominates,
The whole of our glorious regiona.
We are a town,
Of wealthy Bankers,
Some would say a town of Wankers,
Beaten down
By vicious gangs of great renown,
Peopled mainly by our teenagers.
The Conservatorios
Known as the Nasties,
The Socialistas
Known as the Losers
And finally the tiny Liberaleros Idealistas
A gang but in name only
They call the Patsies.
It must be told
That the Nasties had held sway
From times of old
Thanks to the say
Of the Bankers who lent them power
To loot and steal from our peasant shower,
Poor Britonia, oh poor Britonia.
The Socialistas were in disarray
For Giovanni had passed away.
Into town came a swaggering liar,
With his sidekick, the ruffian Gordo,
Yes, it was Antonio Bliar,
And he had come to save the day.
Poor Britonia, oh poor Britonia.
The Nasties were ready for a fall,
Exhausted as they were from deceit and theft,
Looking only to the west [the left]
They ignored the farthest east [the right]
Whence Antonio stole the city and their clothes
And Britonia’s time had come,
A time of good for one and all.
Antonio ruled for many years,
But never as a Socialista,
He changed their name forever,
Nuova Labori,
Drove out their old grey beards,
And with Pietro Mandiavelli,
Turned the Nasties legs to jelly,
And from their eyes dragged many tears.
The knives, they were long and sharp,
Gordo twisted in the dark,
And when he struck the final blow,
In the back of Antonio,
Britonia waited and wondered,
Had Gordo, the fool, blundered?
Or was this the only show,
In town?
The Nasties were growing strong,
Their leader Davide, sweet and smiling,
Was to one and all beguiling,
Poor Britonia, oh Poor Britonia.
But to one in particular,
A sweet maid Nicoletta,
Who had fallen for Davide
As he sang his cabaletta.
Poor Britonia, oh Poor Britonia.
Our tale begins, dear citizens,
A tale of star-crossed lovers,
Gang leaders both, who come together
To save the town from Gordo and his cut throat band,
Davide and Nicoletta hand in hand,
Walk into the sunset dragging their ugly gangs
Not noticing the onset of such inclement weather.
Poor Britonia, oh Poor Britonia,
Poor Britonia, oh Poor Britonia,
I tell you now, opera-goers all, oh Poor Britonia.
Anarchico bows to the audience and steps back through the curtain.
