The Ring Symbol Analysis

Some claimed that it was a mark of immeasurable pride; others spoke of her saint-like modesty. Yet, as a rule, artists are rarely so modest; in truth I am rather tempted to ascribe her actions to sheer dread. Yes, I believe that Christine Daaé was frightened by what had just happened to her, and was as taken aback by it as everybody else around her. […] To suggest that Christine was taken aback or even frightened by her triumph is in fact an understatement: having reread the letter, I would say that she was terrified. Yes, yes, terrified. “I am no longer myself when I sing,” she wrote.

To think that he had believed in her innocence, in her purity! That he had tried for a moment to explain everything by her naivety, her simplicity of mind and her extreme candour. The Spirit of Music! He knew him now! He saw him! Surely he was some minor singer at the Opera, some good-looking Lothario, some coxcomb all smiles and sweet talk. He felt ridiculous and pitiable. Ah, what a wretched, insignificant and foolish young man you are, Viscount de Chagny! he raged to himself. As for Christine, what a brazen, devilishly cunning creature!

Christine simply took off her mask and said: “It is a tragedy, Raoul!”

He now saw her face and could not suppress a cry of surprise and shock. Gone was her fresh, glowing complexion. No longer a reflection of her tranquil disposition and untroubled conscience, her face—so charming and gentle in former days—was deadly pale. How anguished she looked now! Her features were cruelly furrowed by sorrow and her beautiful, limpid eyes—Little Lotte’s eyes—had become wells of deep, dark, unfathomable mystery and were bordered with terribly doleful shadows.

“When a man,” resumed Raoul, who felt his strength draining away from him, “adopts such a romantic stratagem to seduce a girl...”

“Either he is a villain, or she is a fool?” she interrupted.

“If Erik does not hear me sing tomorrow, he will be devastated.”

“It can only be thus if you want to escape him for ever.”

“You are right, Raoul. At all events, he will certainly die of grief if I run away.” … And then she added in a muted voice: “On the other hand, he could just as easily kill us.”

“Does he love you so much?”

“Yes, he would stop at nothing for me, not even murder.”

“You’re afraid of me! And yet, deep down, I am not a bad man. Love me and you’ll see! To be good, all I ever needed was to be loved for myself. If you loved me, I would be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do with me as you pleased.”

“I don’t express myself like other people. I don’t do anything like other people. But I am very tired of it! Tired of having a forest and a torture chamber in my home! Sick of living like a mountebank, in a house full of tricks! Yes, I am sick and tired of it all! I want a nice, quiet apartment like everyone else, with ordinary doors and windows, and a proper wife.”