Lyrics by Frank DiGiacomo and Julian R. Pace.

The curtain rises during the Interlude, revealing gradually by moonlight the enchanted garden; the flowers are wilting, the animals are in fear and confusion — all are dying.
Moans and laments are heard, seeming to come from the garden itself. The light gradually reveals the Beast, dying also, in the place beneath the Withered Tree where we last saw him.

 
Photography by Thomas Watson.                                                            Photography by Rick Powers.

LYRICS
Beast:
        Oh, my dear friends,
        you have placed your trust in me and I have failed you.
        I have been wrong to hope, to trust.
        I am powerless to help you now, for I am dying as well;
        I cannot help myself.
        She will not come back; she will not.

(He sinks to the ground, and with him, all the remaining animals and wilted plants.  The stage is motionless and silent. Suddenly there is a rush of wind in the garden; a moaning and trembling come from the flowers. Beauty hurries in, sees several animals lying on the ground, goes to them; she becomes increasingly distraught, and finally sees the Beast and rushes to him. She tries unsuccessfully to make him rise, then lays his head in her lap. The Beast opens his eyes and looks up at her.)
 
    Beast:
        Beauty!
        But you are too late ... too late!

    Beauty:
        Ah! Ah, do not say that!
        Ah, no!
        You must not die!
        Ah! I do not want you to die!
        You must not die!
        I never knew how much you meant to me,
        how much l needed you—­
        I never knew!
        Oh, you must not die!
        I love you, I love you—­
        You can not die!

(She kisses him; but his face falls away from hers, lifeless. She gasps, then lays his head down on the ground. Moving away, the full realization of his death overcomes her, and she collapses weeping, burying her face in her hands. The moon disappears behind a cloud, and the stage is in darkness, punctuated only by the sound of Beauty’s weeping. Then, slowly, the moonlight returns. A blossom appears on the Withered Tree, then another and another; soon it is in full bloom. The Rosebush becomes visible, now no longer a rosebush, the flowers have become children again. The light expands, gradually revealing the Beast transformed into the Prince, and the animals, all transformed into the Beast’s courtiers. Real flowers bloom.)

(Beauty is still collapsed in tears, unaware of the transformation; and behind her, standing, is the Prince.)

    Prince:
       Beauty!
 
    Beauty: (Looking up, in disbelief:)
      Ah, am I dreaming?
 
    Prince:
        Oh, dearest Beauty, your eyes do not deceive you.
        I am the Prince of your
        dreams and the Beast as well.
 
    Beauty:
       Oh, my Prince!
 
    Prince:
        Your heart saw through the fearsome ugliness
        which your heart alone could pierce.
 
    Beauty:
       Oh, my Prince, my Prince!