M. Butterfly

by David Henry Hwang

  GALLIMARD: Thank you, sir.

  TOULON: Don’t jump the gun. Okay, our needs in China are changing. It’s embarrassing that we lost Indochina. Someone just wasn’t on the ball there. I don’t mean you personally, of course.

  GALLIMARD: Thank you, sir.

  TOULON: We’re going to be doing a lot more information-gathering in the future. The nature of our work here is changing. Some people are just going to have to go. It’s nothing personal.

  GALLIMARD: Oh.

  TOULON: Want to know a secret? Vice-Consul LeBon is being transferred.

  GALLIMARD (To us): My immediate superior!

  TOULON: And most of his department.

  GALLIMARD (To us): Just as I feared! God has seen my evil heart—

  TOULON: But not you.

  GALLIMARD (To us):—and he’s taking her away just as ... (To Toulon) Excuse me, sir?

  TOULON: Scare you? I think I did. Cheer up, Gallimard. I want you to replace LeBon as vice-consul.

  GALLIMARD: You—? Yes, well, thank you, sir.

  TOULON: Anytime.

  GALLIMARD: I ... accept with great humility.

  TOULON: Humility won’t be part of the job. You’re going to coordinate the revamped intelligence division. Want to know a secret? A year ago, you would’ve been out. But the past few months, I don’t know how it happened, you’ve become this new aggressive confident ... thing. And they also tell me you get along with the Chinese. So I think you’re a lucky man, Gallimard. Congratulations.

  They shake hands. Toulon exits. Party, noises out. Gallimard stumbles across a darkened stage.

  GALLIMARD: Vice-consul? Impossible! As I stumbled out of the party, I saw it written across the sky: There is no God. Or, no—say that there is a God. But that God ... understands. Of course! God who creates Eve to serve Adam, who blesses Solomon with his harem but ties Jezebel to a burning bed—that God is a man. And he understands! At age thirty-nine, I was suddenly initiated into the way of the world.

  scene 13

  Song Liling’s apartment. Beijing, 1960.

  Song enters, in a sheer dressing gown.

  SONG: Are you crazy?

  GALLIMARD: Mademoiselle Song—

  SONG : To come here—at this hour? After ... after eight weeks?

  GALLIMARD: It’s the most amazing—

  SONG : You bang on my door? Scare my servants, scandalize the neighbors?

  GALLIMARD: I’ve been promoted. To vice-consul.

  Pause.

  SONG: And what is that supposed to mean to me?

  GALLIMARD: Are you my Butterfly?

  SONG: What are you saying?

  GALLIMARD: I’ve come tonight for an answer: are you my Butterfly?

  SONG: Don’t you know already?

  GALLIMARD: I want you to say it.

  SONG: I don’t want to say it.

  GALLIMARD: So, that is your answer?

  SONG: You know how I feel about—

  GALLIMARD: I do .remember one thing.

  SONG: What?

  GALLIMARD: In the letter I received today.

  SONG: Don’t.

  GALLIMARD: “I have already given you my shame.”

  SONG: It’s enough that I even wrote it.

  GALLIMARD: Well, then—

  SONG: I shouldn’t have it splashed across my face.

  GALLIMARD:—if that’s all true—

  SONG: Stop!

  GALLIMARD: Then what is one more short answer?

  SONG: I don’t want to!

  GALLIMARD: Are you my Butterfly? (Silence; he crosses the room and begins to touch her hair) I want from you honesty. There should be nothing false between us. No false pride.

  Pause.

  SONG: Yes, I am. I am your Butterfly.

  GALLIMARD: Then let me be honest with you. It is because of you that I was promoted tonight. You have changed my life forever. My little Butterfly, there should be no more secrets: I love you.

  He starts to kiss her roughly. She resists slightly.

  SONG: No ... no ... gently ... please, I’ve never ...

  GALLIMARD: No?

  SONG: I’ve tried to appear experienced, but ... the truth is ... no.

  GALLIMARD: Are you cold?

  SONG: Yes. Cold.

  GALLIMARD: Then we will go very, very slowly.

  He starts to caress her; her gown begins to open.

  SONG: No ... let me ... keep my clothes ...

  GALLIMARD: But ...

  SONG: Please ... it all frightens me. I’m a modest Chinese girl.

  GALLIMARD: My poor little treasure.

  SONG: I am your treasure. Though inexperienced, I am not ... ignorant. They teach us things, our mothers, about pleasing a man.

  GALLIMARD: Yes?

  SONG: I’ll do my best to make you happy. Turn off the lights.

  Gallimard gets up and heads for a lamp. Song, propped up on one elbow, tosses her hair back and smiles.

  SONG: Monsieur Gallimard?

  GALLIMARD: Yes, Butterfly?

  SONG: “Vieni, vieni!”

  GALLIMARD: “Come, darling.”

  SONG: “Ah! Dolce notte!”

  GALLIMARD: “Beautiful night.”

  SONG: “Tutto estatico d‘amor ride il ciel!”

  GALLIMARD: “All ecstatic with love, the heavens are filled with laughter.”

  He turns off the lamp. Blackout.

  act two

  scene 1

  M. Gallimard’s cell. Paris. Present.

  Lights up on Gallimard. He sits in his cell, reading from a leaflet.

  GALLIMARD: This, from a contemporary critic’s commentary on Madame Butterfly: “Pinkerton suffers from ... being an obnoxious bounder whom every man in the audience itches to kick.” Bully for us men in the audience! Then, in the same note: “Butterfly is the most irresistibly appealing of Puccini’s ‘Little Women.’ Watching the succession of her humiliations is like watching a child under torture.” (He tosses the pamphlet over his shoulder) I suggest that, while we men may all want to kick Pinkerton, very few of us would pass up the opportunity to be Pinkerton.

  Gallimard moves out of his cell.

  scene 2

  Gallimard and Butterfly’s flat. Beijing. 1960.

  We are in a simple but well-decorated parlor. Gallimard moves to sit on a sofa, while Song, dressed in a chong sam, enters and curls up at his feet.

  GALLIMARD (To us): We secured a flat on the outskirts of Peking. Butterfly, as I was calling her now, decorated our “home” with Western furniture and Chinese antiques. And there, on a few stolen afternoons or evenings each week, Butterfly commenced her education.

  SONG: The Chinese men—they keep us down.

  GALLIMARD: Even in the “New Society”?

  SONG: In the “New Society,” we are all kept ignorant equally. That’s one of the exciting things about loving a Western man. I know you are not threatened by a woman’s education.

  GALLIMARD: I’m no saint, Butterfly.

  SONG: But you come from a progressive society.

  GALLIMARD: We’re not always reminding each other how “old” we are, if that’s what you mean.

  SONG: Exactly. We Chinese—once, I suppose, it is true, we ruled the world. But so what? How much more exciting to be part of the society ruling the world today. Tell me—what’s happening in Vietnam?

  GALLIMARD: Oh, Butterfly—you want me to bring my work home?

  SONG: I want to know what you know. To be impressed by my man. It’s not the particulars so much as the fact that you’re making decisions which change the shape of the world.

  GALLIMARD: Not the world. At best, a small corner.

  Toulon enters, and sits at a desk upstage.

  scene 3

  French embassy. Beijing. 1961.

  Gallimard moves downstage, to Toulon’s desk. Song remains upstage, watching.

  TOULON: And a more troublesome corner is hard to imagine.

  GALLIMARD: So, the Americans plan to begin bombing?

 
TOULON: This is very secret, Gallimard: yes. The Americans don’t have an embassy here. They’re asking us to be their eyes and ears. Say Jack Kennedy signed an order to bomb North Vietnam, Laos. How would the Chinese react?

  GALLIMARD: I think the Chinese will squawk—

  TOULON: Uh-huh.

  GALLIMARD:—but, in their hearts, they don’t even like Ho Chi Minh.

  Pause.

  TOULON: What a bunch of jerks. Vietnam was our colony. Not only didn’t the Americans help us fight to keep them, but now, seven years later, they’ve come back to grab the territory for themselves. It’s very irritating.

  GALLIMARD: With all due respect, sir, why should the Americans have won our war for us back in ‘54 if we didn’t have the will to win it ourselves?

  TOULON: You’re kidding, aren’t you?

  Pause.

  GALLIMARD: The Orientals simply want to be associated with whoever shows the most strength and power. You live with the Chinese, sir. Do you think they like Communism?

  TOULON: I live in China. Not with the Chinese.

  GALLIMARD: Well, I—

  TOULON: You live with the Chinese.

  GALLIMARD: Excuse me?

  TOULON: I can’t keep a secret.

  GALLIMARD: What are you saying?

  TOULON: Only that I’m not immune to gossip. So, you’re keeping a native mistress. Don’t answer. It’s none of my business. (Pause) I’m sure she must be gorgeous.

  GALLIMARD: Well ...

  TOULON: I’m impressed. You have the stamina to go out into the streets and hunt one down. Some of us have to be content with the wives of the expatriate community.

  GALLIMARD: I do feel ... fortunate.

  TOULON: So, Gallimard, you’ve got the inside knowledge—what do the Chinese think?

  GALLIMARD: Deep down, they miss the old days. You know, cappuccinos, men in tuxedos—

  TOULON: So what do we tell the Americans about Vietnam?

  GALLIMARD: Tell them there’s a natural affinity between the West and the Orient.

  TOULON: And that you speak from experience?

  GALLIMARD: The Orientals are people too. They want the good things we can give them. If the Americans demonstrate the will to win, the Vietnamese will welcome them into a mutually beneficial union.

  TOULON: I don’t see how the Vietnamese can stand up to American firepower.

  GALLIMARD: Orientals will always submit to a greater force.

  TOULON: I’ll note your opinions in my report. The Americans always love to hear how “welcome” they’ll be. (He starts to exit)

  GALLIMARD: Sir?

  TOULON: Mmmm?

  GALLIMARD: This ... rumor you’ve heard.

  TOULON: Uh-huh?

  GALLIMARD: How ... widespread do you think it is?

  TOULON: It’s only widespread within this embassy. Where nobody talks because everybody is guilty. We were worried about- you, Gallimard. We thought you were the only one here without a secret. Now you go and find a lotus blossom ... and top us all. (He exits)

  GALLIMARD (To us): Toulon knows! And he approves! I was learning the benefits of being a man. We form our own clubs, sit behind thick doors, smoke—and celebrate the fact that we’re still boys. (He starts to move downstage, towards Song) So, over the—

  Suddenly Comrade Chin enters. Gallimard backs away.

  GALLIMARD (To Song): No! Why does she have to come in?

  SONG: Rene, be sensible. How can they understand the story without her? Now, don’t embarrass yourself.

  Gallimard moves down center.

  GALLIMARD (To us): Now, you will see why my story is so amusing to so many people. Why they snicker at parties in disbelief. Please—try to understand it from my point of view. We are all prisoners of our time and place. (He exits)

  scene 4

  Gallimard and Butterfly’s flat. Beijing. 1961.

  SONG (To us): 1961. The flat Monsieur Gallimard rented for us. An evening after he has gone.

  CHIN: Okay, see if you can find out when the Americans plan to start bombing Vietnam. If you can find out what cities, even better.

  SONG: I’ll do my best, but I don’t want to arouse his suspicions.

  CHIN: Yeah, sure, of course. So, what else?

  SONG: The Americans will increase troops in Vietnam to 170,000 soldiers with 120,000 militia and 11,000 American advisors.

  CHIN (Writing): Wait, wait. 120,000 militia and—

  SONG:—11,000 American—

  CHIN:—American advisors. (Beat) How do you remember so much?

  SONG: I’m an actor.

  CHIN: Yeah. (Beat) Is that how come you dress like that?

  SONG: Like what, Miss Chin?

  CHIN: Like that dress! You’re wearing a dress. And every time I come here, you’re wearing a dress. Is that because you’re an actor? Or what?

  SONG: It’s a ... disguise, Miss Chin.

  CHIN: Actors, I think they’re all weirdos. My mother tells me actors are like gamblers or prostitutes or—

  SONG: It helps me in my assignment.

  Pause.

  CHIN: You’re not gathering information in any way that violates Communist Party principles, are you?

  SONG: Why would I do that?

  CHIN: Just checking. Remember: when working for the Great Proletarian State, you represent our Chairman Mao in every position you take.

  SONG: I’ll try to imagine the Chairman taking my positions.

  CHIN: We all think of him this way. Good-bye, comrade. (She starts to exit) Comrade?

  SONG: Yes?

  CHIN: Don’t forget: there is no homosexuality in China!

  SONG: Yes, I’ve heard.

  CHIN: Just checking. (She exits)

  SONG (To us): What passes for a woman in modern China.

  Gallimard sticks his head out from the wings.

  GALLIMARD: Is she gone?

  SONG: Yes, Rene. Please continue in your own fashion.

  scene 5

  Beijing. 1961-63.

  Gallimard moves to the couch where Song still sits. He lies down in her lap, and she strokes his forehead.

  GALLIMARD (To us): And so, over the years 1961, ‘62, ’63, we settled into our routine, Butterfly and I. She would always have prepared a light snack and then, ever so delicately, and only if I agreed, she would start to pleasure me. With her hands, her mouth ... too many ways to explain, and too sad, given my present situation. But mostly we would talk. About my life. Perhaps there is nothing more rare than to find a woman who passionately listens.

  Song remains upstage, listening, as Helga enters and plays a scene downstage with Gallimard.

  HELGA: Rene, I visited Dr. Bolleart this morning.

  GALLIMARD: Why? Are you ill?

  HELGA: No, no. You see, I wanted to ask him ... that question we’ve been discussing.

  GALLIMARD: And I told you, it’s only a matter of time. Why did you bring a doctor into this? We just have to keep trying—like a crapshoot, actually.

  HELGA: I went, I’m sorry. But listen: he says there’s nothing wrong with me.

  GALLIMARD: You see? Now, will you stop—?

  HELGA: Rene, he says he’d like you to go in and take some tests.

  GALLIMARD : Why? So he can find there’s nothing wrong with both of us?

  HELGA: Rene, I don’t ask for much. One trip! One visit! And then, whatever you want to do about it—you decide.

  GALLIMARD: You’re assuming he’ll find something defective!

  HELGA: No! Of course not! Whatever he finds—if he finds nothing, we decide what to do about nothing! But go!

  GALLIMARD: If he finds nothing, we keep trying. Just like we do now.

  HELGA: But at least we’ll know! (Pause) I’m sorry. (She starts to exit)

  GALLIMARD: Do you really want me to see Dr. Bolleart?

  HELGA: Only if you want a child, Rene. We have to face the fact that time is running out. Only if you want a child. (She exits)

  GALLIMARD (To Song): I’m a modern man, Butte
rfly. And yet, I don’t want to go. It’s the same old voodoo. I feel like God himself is laughing at me if I can’t produce a child.

  SONG: You men of the West—you’re obsessed by your odd desire for equality. Your wife can’t give you a child, and you’re going to the doctor?

  GALLIMARD: Well, you see, she’s already gone.

  SONG: And because this incompetent can’t find the defect, you now have to subject yourself to him? It’s unnatural.

  GALLIMARD: Well, what is the “natural” solution?

  SONG: In Imperial China, when a man found that one wife was inadequate, he turned to another—to give him his son.

  GALLIMARD: What do you—? I can’t ... marry you, yet.

  SONG: Please. I’m not asking you to be my husband. But I am already your wife.

  GALLIMARD: Do you want to ... have my child?

  SONG: I thought you’d never ask.

  GALLIMARD: But, your career ... your—

  SONG : Phooey on my career! That’s your Western mind, twisting itself into strange shapes again. Of course I love my career. But what would I love most of all? To feel something inside me—day and night—something I know is yours. (Pause) Promise me ... you won’t go to this doctor. Who is this Western quack to set himself as judge over the man I love? I know who is a man, and who is not. (She exits)

  GALLIMARD (To us): Dr. Bolleart? Of course I didn’t go. What man would?

  scene 6

  Beijing. 1963.

  Party noises over the house speakers. Renee enters, wearing a revealing gown.

  GALLIMARD: 1963. A party at the Austrian embassy. None of us could remember the Austrian ambassador’s name, which seemed somehow appropriate. (To Renee) So, I tell the Americans, Diem must go. The U.S. wants to be respected by the Vietnamese, and yet they’re propping up this nobody seminarian as her president. A man whose claim to fame is his sister-in-law imposing fanatic “moral order” campaigns? Oriental women—when they’re good, they’re very good, but when they’re bad, they’re Christians..