George Sand:
Chopin, do you love me?
Frederic Chopin:
God help me, I do. You are superb.
[They kiss passionately, but Chopin stops]
Frederic Chopin:
No!
George Sand:
[desperately]
What is wrong now?
Frederic Chopin:
I'm frightened.
George Sand:
Of me?
Frederic Chopin:
Certain acts are... uh, unseemly. They are unsuitable.
George Sand:
Chopin... it's an act of love! It's the divine mystery itself!
Frederic Chopin:
You must think I'm inexperienced, but I assure you, I was baptized... in the brothels of Paris, when I first arrived. But, um... I'm so ill... and I have been for such a long time, and my body is such a great disappointment to me, that I've already said goodbye to it, I'm... not really *in it* any more, I'm just... happier floating about in music. And if I should come back... inside this miserable collection of bones, then I... am afraid that it would probably collapse altogether. Forgive me. I'm ashamed.
George Sand:
No, no. Forgive me. I'm a fraud, you know. "Divine mystery"? I never experienced that with anyone! Always had disastrous relationships. And I never manage to stay in love.
Frederic Chopin:
What?
George Sand:
I don't know. I want too much... I think. Except when I hear you play... and when I'm around you. Look... I simply want to be with you. The rest doesn't matter. Really. Do you think we could just be together, like this?
Frederic Chopin:
Yes. Yes.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:24