prologue (the turn of the screw) - benjamin britten lyrics
it is a curious story. i have it written in faded ink – a woman’s hand, governess to two children – long ago. untried, innocent, she had gone first to see their guardian in london; a young man, bold, offhand and g-y, the children’s only relative. the children were in the country with an old housekeeper. there had been a governess, but she had gone. the boy, of course, was at school, but there was the girl, and the holidays, now begun. this then would be her task. but there was one condition: he was so much engaged; affairs, travel, friends, visits, always something, no time at all for the poor little things. she was to do everything, be responsible for everything, not to worry him at all, no, not to write, but to be silent, and do her best. she was full of doubts. but she was carried away: that he, so gallant and handsome, so deep in the busy world, should need her help. at last “i will”, she said
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