Lyrics drawn by Frank DiGiacomo from the play, DuBarry by David Belasco.
Published in Six Plays by David Belasco, by Little, Brown of Boston in 1928.

Premiered in 1901, DuBarry was an adaptation of the novel by Dumas. It did not receive the acclaim that brought Belasco’s other plays, Madame Butterfly and The Girl of the Golden West, to the attention of Puccini, who made them world famous with his popular operas.
Frank DiGiacomo fashioned his own lyrics about the beautiful shop girl, Jeanette Vaubernier, who like Manon, abandons her true love, Cossé de Brissac, for the wealth and status she gained as La Comtesse DuBarry, courtesan to King Louis the Fifteenth, a fate she sadly regrets, but does not prevent.
The only surviving music we have of DiGiacomo’s opera is an aria where Cossé’s father warns DuBarry about what her thoughtless excesses will help bring to pass. This aria, was written in the Composer’s student days at Syracuse University, and recorded, with Mr. DiGiacomo at the piano, in a practice room at the old Crouse College of Music. William (Bill) Black, the soloist, was a fellow student, and the song was written for his voice. The primitive live recording, as you will appreciate, is far from ideal, but it does show the power of the music. Also included are a synth voice and piano rendition as well as the synth rehearsal piano-only version.
The manuscript of the song has not been found, but we are grateful for the transcription from archival audio tape by Jason Loffredo. For additional information on Mr. Loffredo go to www.jasonloffredo.com.

David Belasco from the
Harvard Theater Collection

 LYRICS
Brissac Père:
Madame, you must understand we are on the brink of a revolution.
The spitting, bleeding, writhing monster, will swallow us whole...
not today, perhaps, not tomorrow, but, it will come, it will come.
Already out in the streets the people are banding together.
Forming a league...
And can you wonder why?
On the edge of Paris, as far as the eye can see,
nothing but wealth...splendor...nothing but wealth,
nothing but wealth, and splendor!
But never a peasant’s cottage, nor a thatched roof,
or a cow grazing.
How much gold can a country eat?
They don’t ask much, Madame, anything is good enough
for the miserable.
And now, even bread, even bread, is denied them!