Chapter X: Front Matter (10)

In the second act we are introduced into the palace of Isabella, who laments Robert's inconstancy. Alice enters bringing Robert's letter and the latter instantly follows to crave his mistress' {297} pardon. She presents him with a new suit of armor, and he consents to meet the Prince of Granada in mortal combat. But Bertram lures him away by deceiving him with a phantom. Robert vainly seeks the Prince in the forest, and the Prince of Granada is in his absence victorious in the tournament and obtains Isabella's hand.

The third act opens with a view of the rocks of St. Irene, where Alice hopes to be united with Raimbaut. The peasant expects his bride, but meets Bertram instead, who makes him forget Alice, by giving him gold and dangerous advice. Raimbaut goes away to spend the money, while Bertram descends to the evil spirits in the deep. When Alice comes, Raimbaut is gone, and she hears the demons calling for Bertram. Bertram extracts a promise from her not to betray the dreadful secret of the cavern. She clings to the Saviour's cross for protection, and is about to be destroyed by Bertram, when Robert approaches, to whom she decides to reveal all. But Bertram's renewed threats at last oblige her to leave them.

Bertram now profits by Robert's rage and despair at the loss of his bride, his wealth and his honor, to draw him on to entire destruction. He tells Robert that his rival used magic arts, and suggests that he should try the same expedient. Then he leads him to a ruined cloister, where he resuscitates the guilty nuns. They try to seduce Robert first by drink, then by gambling, and last of all by love. In the last, Helena, the most {298} beautiful of the nuns, succeeds and makes him remove the cypress-branch, a talisman, by which in the fourth act he enters Isabella's apartment unseen. He awakes his bride out of her magic sleep, to carry her off, but overcome by her tears and her appeal to his honor, he breaks the talisman, and is seized by the now awakened soldiers; but Bertram appears, and takes him under his protection.

The fifth act opens with a chorus sung by monks, which is followed by a prayer for mercy. Robert, concealed in the vestibule of the cathedral, hears it full of contrition. But Bertram is with him, and, his term on earth being short, he confides to Robert the secret of his birth and appeals to him as his father.

He almost succeeds, when Alice comes up, bringing the news that the Prince of Granada renounces Isabella's hand, being unable to pass the threshold of the church. Bertram urges Robert all the more vehemently to become one with him, suggesting that Isabella is likewise lost to him, who has transgressed the laws of the church, when in the last extremity Alice produces his mother's will, in which she warns him against Bertram, entreating him to save his soul. Then at last his good angel is victorious, his demon-father vanishes into the earth and Robert, united by prayer to the others, is restored to a life of peace and goodness.

{299}

LE ROI L'A DIT.

(THE KING HAS SAID IT.)

Comic Opera in three acts by LÉON DÉLIBES.

Text by EDMOND GONDINET.

It is impossible to imagine music more charming or more full of grace and piquancy, than that which we find in this delightful opera. Every part abounds in exquisite harmonies, which no words can give any idea of. On hearing them one is compelled to the conclusion, that all the graces have stood godmother to this lovely child of their muse.

The libretto though on the whole somewhat insipid, is flavored with naïve and goodnatured coquetry, which lends a certain charm to it.

The Marquis de Moncontour has long wished to be presented to the King Louis XIV., and as he has been fortunate enough to catch the escaped paroquet of Mme. de Maintenon, he is at last to have his wish accomplished. By way of preparation for his audience he tries to learn the latest mode of bowing, his own being somewhat antiquated and the Marquise and her four lovely daughters and even Javotte, the nice little ladies'-maid, assist him. After many failures the old gentleman succeeds in making his bow to his own satisfaction, and he is put into a litter, and born off, followed by his people's benedictions. When they are gone, Benoit, a young peasant comes to see Javotte, who is his sweetheart. He wishes to enter the Marquis' {300} service. Javotte thinks him too awkward, but she promises to intercede in his favor with Miton, a dancing-master, who enters just as Benoit disappears. He has instructed the graceful Javotte in all the arts and graces of the noble world, and when he rehearses the steps and all the nice little tricks of his art with her, he is so delighted with his pupil, that he pronounces her manners worthy of a Princess; but when Javotte tells him that she loves a peasant, he is filled with disgust and orders her away. His real pupils, the four lovely daughters of the Marquis now enter and while the lesson goes on, Miton hands a billet-doux from some lover to each of them. The two elder, Agatha and Chimene, are just in the act of reading theirs, when they hear a serenade outside, and shortly afterwards the two lovers are standing in the room, having taken their way through the window. The Marquis Flarembel and his friend, the Marquis de la Bluette are just making a most ardent declaration of love, when Mme. la Marquise enters to present to her elder daughters the two bridegrooms she has chosen for them. The young men hide behind the ample dresses of the young ladies, and all begin to sing with great zeal, Miton beating the measure, so that some time elapses, before the Marquise is able to state her errand. Of course her words excite great terror, the girls flying to the other side of the room with their lovers and receiving the two elderly suitors, Baron de Merlussac and Gautru, a rich old financier, with great coolness and a refusal of their {301} costly gifts. When the suitors are gone, the two young strangers are detected and the angry mother decides at once to send her daughters to a convent, from which they shall only issue on their wedding-day.

When they have departed in a most crest-fallen condition, the old Marquis returns from his audience with the King and relates its astounding results. His Majesty had been so peremptory in his questioning about the Marquis' son and heir, that the Marquis, losing his presence of mind, promised to present his son at Court on the King's demand. The only question now is where to find a son to adopt, as the Marquis has only four daughters. Miton, the ever-useful, at once presents Benoit to the parents, engaging himself to drill the peasant into a nice cavalier in ten lessons. Benoit takes readily to his new position; he is fitted out at once and when the merchants come, offering their best in cloth and finery, he treats them with an insolence, worthy of the proudest Seigneur. He even turns from his sweet-heart Javotte.

In the second act Benoit, dressed like the finest cavalier, gives a masked ball in his father's gardens. Half Versailles is invited, but having taken the Court Almanac to his aid, he has made the mistake of inviting many people who have long been dead. Those who do appear, seem to him to be very insipid, and wanting some friends with whom he can enjoy himself, the useful Miton presents the Marquis de la Bluette and de Flarembel, who are {302} delighted to make the acquaintance of their sweethearts' brother.

Benoit hears from them, that he has four charming sisters, who have been sent to a convent and he at once promises to assist his new friends. Meanwhile Javotte appears in the mask of an oriental Queen and Benoit makes love to her, but he is very much stupified when she takes off her mask, and he recognizes Javotte. She laughingly turns away from him, when the good-for-nothing youth's new parents appear, to reproach him with his levity. But Benoit, nothing daunted rushes away, telling the Marquis that he intends to visit his sisters in the convent. Miton tries in vain to recall him. Then the two old suitors of Agathe and Chimene appear, to complain that their deceased wife and grand-mother were invited, and while the Marquis explains his son's mistake, the four daughters rush in, having been liberated by their lovers and their unknown brother, whom they greet with a fondness very shocking to the old Marchioness. The elderly suitors withdraw, swearing to take vengeance on the inopportune brother.

In the last act Benoit appears in his father's house in a somewhat dilapidated state. He has spent the night amongst gay companions and met Gautru and de Merlussac successively, who have both fought him and believe they have killed him, Benoit having feigned to be dead on the spot.

When the old Marquis enters, he is very much astonished at receiving two letters of condolence {303} from his daughter's suitors. Miton appears in mourning, explaining that Mme. de Maintenon's visit being expected, they must all wear dark colors as she prefers these. Meanwhile Benoit has had an interview with Javotte, in which he declares his love to be undiminished, and he at once asks his father to give him Javotte as his wife, threatening to reveal the Marquis' deceit to the King, if his request is not granted. In this dilemma help comes in the persons of the two young Marquises, who present their King's condolences to old Moncontour. This gentleman hears to his great relief, that his son is supposed to have fallen in a duel, and so he is disposed of. Nobody is happier than Javotte, who now claims Benoit for her own, while the Marquis, who receives a Duke's title from the King in compensation for his loss, gladly gives his two elder daughters to their young and noble lovers.

The girls, well aware, that they owe their happiness to their adopted brother, are glad to provide him with ample means for his marriage with Javotte, and the affair ends to everybody's satisfaction.

ROMEO E GIULIETTA.

Grand Opera in five acts by CH. GOUNOD.

Text by BARBIER and CARRÉ.

This highly favored opera by Gounod presents much that is worthy of admiration, though it does not rise to the high level of his Marguerite (Faust). {304 The libretto follows Shakespeare's version pretty accurately.

The first act opens with the masked ball in Capuletti's palace, where the first meeting between the lovers takes place, Romeo being disguised as a pilgrim. They fall in love with each other, and Tybalt, Capulet's nephew, recognizing Romeo, reveals, but too late, their true names and swears to take revenge on his foe, who has thus entered the Capulet's house uninvited.

The second act represents the famous scene on the balcony between Juliet and her lover.

In the third act Romeo visits Friar Lorenzo's cell, to get advice from him. There he meets Juliet. Lorenzo unites the lovers, hoping hereby to reconciliate the hostile houses of the Montagus and the Capulets.

The following scene represents the street before Capulet's palace, where the rivals meet; there ensues the double duel, first between Tybalt and Romeo's friend Mercutio, who falls and then between Romeo, who burns to avenge his comrade, and Tybalt. Tybalt is killed and Romeo is obliged to fly, all the Capulets being after him.

In the fourth act Romeo sees Juliet in her room, but when the morning dawns he is obliged to leave, while Juliet's father comes to remind her of his last promise to the dying Tybalt, which was to marry Juliet to Count Paris.--

Juliet in great perplexity turns to Friar Lorenzo for help.--He gives her a draught {305} which will cause her to fall into a deep swoon, and after being laid in her ancestor's tomb, she is to be awakened by Romeo and carried away into security.

In the fifth act Romeo, after having taken poison enters the tomb to bid farewell to Juliet, whom he by a fatal misunderstanding believes to be dead.--She awakes, and seeing her bridegroom die before her eyes, she stabs herself, to be united with her lover in death, if not in life.

IL SERAGLIO.

Opera in three acts by MOZART.

Text after BRETZNER by G. STEPHANIE.

Mozart modestly called this opera a Vaudeville (in German: Singspiel). They were the fashion towards the end of the last century, but "Il Seraglio" ranks much higher, and may be justly called a comic opera of the most pleasing kind. The music is really charming, both fresh and original.

The libretto is equally happy. It particularly inspired Mozart because given him by the Emperor Joseph II at a time, when he (Mozart), a happy bridegroom, was about to conduct into his home his beloved Constanze. The contents are as follows:

Constanza, the betrothed bride of Belmonte is with her maid Bionda (Blondchen) and Pedrillo, Belmonte's servant, captured by pirates. All three are sold as slaves to Selim Pasha, who keeps the ladies in his harem, taking Constanza for himself {306} and giving Bionda to his overseer Osmin. Pedrillo has found means to inform his master of their misfortune, and Belmonte comes seeking entrance to the Pasha's villa in the guise of an artist. Osmin, who is much in love with Bionda, though she treats him haughtily, distrusts the artist and tries to interfere. But Pedrillo, who is gardener in the Pasha's service, frustrates Osmin's purpose and Belmonte is engaged. The worthy Pasha is quite infatuated with Constanza and tries hard to gain her affections. But Constanza has sworn to be faithful till death to Belmonte and great is her rapture, when Bionda brings the news that her lover is near.

With the help of Pedrillo, who manages to intoxicate Osmin, they try to escape, but Osmin overtakes them and brings them back to the Pasha, who at once orders that they be brought before him.--Constanza, advancing with noble courage, explains that the pretended artist is her lover, and that she will rather die with him than leave him. Selim Pasha, overwhelmed by this discovery, retires to think about what he shall do and his prisoners prepare for death, Belmonte and Constanza with renewed tender protestations of love, Pedrillo and Bionda without either fear or trembling.

Great is their happiness and Osmin's wrath, when the noble Pasha, touched by their constancy, sets them free, and asks for their friendship, bidding them remember him kindly after their return into their own country.

{307}

SIEGFRIED.

Second day of the Nibelungen Ring by WAGNER.

Musical Drama in three acts.

The first act represents a part of the forest, where Fafner guards the Rhinegold and where Sieglinda has found refuge. We find her son Siegfried,--to whom when she was dying, she gave birth--in the rocky cave of Mime the Nibelung, (brother of Alberich), who has brought up the child as his own, knowing that he is destined to slay Fafner and to gain the ring, which he covets for himself. Siegfried, the brave and innocent boy, instinctively shrinks from this father, who is so ugly, so mean and vulgar, while he has a deep longing for his dead mother, whom he never knew. He gives vent to these feelings in impatient questions about her. The dwarf answers unwillingly and gives him the broken pieces of the old sword Nothung (needful), which his mother left as the only precious remembrance of Siegfried's father.

Siegfried asks Mime to forge the fragments afresh, while he rushes away into the woods.

During his absence Wotan comes to Mime in the guise of a wanderer. Mime, though he knows him not, fears him and would fain drive him away. Finally he puts three questions to his guest. The first is the name of the race, which lives in earth's deepest depths, the second the name of those, who live on earth's back and the third, that of those, who live above the clouds. Of course Wotan answers them all, {308} redeeming his head and shelter thereby; but now it is his turn to put three questions. He first asks what race it is, that Wotan loves most, though he dealt hardly with them, and Mime answers rightly, that they are the Waelsungs, whose son Siegfried is; then Wotan asks after the sword, which is to make Siegfried victorious. Mime joyously names "Nothung", but when Wotan asks him, who is to unite the pieces, he is in great embarrassment, for he remembers his task and perceives too late, what question he ought to have asked. Wotan leaves him, telling him that only that man can forge it, who never knew fear. Siegfried, finding the sword still in fragments when he returns, melts these in fire, and easily forges them together, to Mime's great awe, for he sees now that this boy is the one, whom the stranger has meant.

In the second scene we see the opening of Fafner's cavern, where Alberich keeps watch for the dragon's slayer, so long predicted.

Wotan approaching, warns him that Alberich's brother Mime has brought up the boy, who is to slay Fafner, in the hope of gaining Alberich's ring, the wondrous qualities of which are unknown to Siegfried.

Wotan awakes Fafner, the dragon, telling him that his slayer is coming.

Mime, who has led Siegfried to this part of the forest under the pretext of teaching him fear, approaches now, and Siegfried, eager for combat, kills the dreadful worm. Accidentally tasting the {309} blood, he all at once understands the language of the birds. They tell him to seek for the Tarnhelm and for the ring, which he finds in the cavern. Meanwhile the brothers, Alberich and Mime, quarrel over the treasure, which they hope to gain. When Siegfried returns with ring and helmet, he is again warned by the voice of a wood-bird, not to trust in Mime. Having tasted the dragon's blood, Siegfried is enabled to probe Mime's innermost thoughts, and so he learns that Mime means to poison him, in order to obtain the treasure. He then kills the traitor with a single stroke.--Stretching himself under the linden-tree to repose after that day's hard work, he again hears the voice of the wood-bird, which tells him of a glorious bride, sleeping on a rock surrounded by fire; and flying before him, the bird shows Siegfried the way to the spot.

In the third scene we find Wotan once more awakening Erda, to seek her counsel as to how best to avert the doom, which he sees coming, but she is less wise than he and so he decides to let fate have its course. When he sees Siegfried coming, he for the last time tries to oppose him by barring the way to Brünnhilde, but the sword Nothung splits the god's spear. Seeing that his power avails him nothing he retires to Walhalla, there to await the "Dusk of the Gods".

Siegfried plunges through the fire, awakes the Walkyrie and after a long resistance, wins the proud virgin.

{310}

SILVANA.

Romantic Opera in four acts by WEBER.

Text by ERNST PASQUÉ.

This opera was left unfinished by Weber. It has however recently been completed, the text by Ernest Pasqué, and the music by Ferdinand Langer, who rearranged the manuscript with loving care, interweaving different compositions from Weber, as for instance his "Invitation à la valse", and his "Polonaise", which are dexterously introduced into the ballet of the second act.

The action is taken from an old German legend which comes to us from the land of the Rhine. There we may still find the ruins of the two castles Sternberg and Liebenstein.

Of these our legend says, that they belonged to two brothers, who hated each other, for the one, Boland, loved his brother's bride and was refused by her. By way of revenge he slew his brother and burnt down his castle. But in this fray the wife he coveted disappeared with her child and both were supposed to have perished in the flames.

Since then Boland has fallen into deep melancholy and the consequences of his dreadful deed have never ceased to torment him. His only son, who lost his mother in early childhood, has grown up solitary, knowing nothing of woman's sweetness, of peace and happiness. His only passion is the hunt. He has grown into manhood and his father {311} as well as his vassals wish him to marry, by [Transcriber's note: but?] never yet has he found a woman, who has touched his heart with love.

In the beginning of the first act we see him hunting in the forest. He has lost his way and his companions and finds himself in a spot, which he has never before seen. A beautiful maiden comes out of a small cottage and both fall in love at first sight. The returning collier would fain keep his only child, who has not yet seen anything of the world; but the nymph of the forest, Silvana's protectrice, beckons him away. When at length the Count's fellow-hunters find him, he presents Silvana to them as his bride. The unfortunate collier is made drunk with wine, and during his sleep they take his daughter away to the castle of the old Rhinegrave.

But Silvana is protected in the new world into which she enters, by the nymph, who follows her in the guise of a young minstrel. The old Count, hearing of his son's resolution, is quite willing to receive the bride and even consents to go to the peasant's festival, and look at the dancing and frolicking, given in honor of his son's bridal.

There we find Ratto, the collier, who seeks his daughter Silvana, telling everybody that robbers took her away from him, and beseeching help to discover her. Meanwhile Silvana arrives in rich and costly attire between Gerold, the young Count and the old Rhinegrave. The latter, attracted by her fairness and innocence has welcomed her as his {312} daughter without asking for antecedents. When the dances of the villagers have ended, the nymph enters in the guise of a minstrel, asking to be allowed to sing to the hearers, as was the custom on the banks of the Rhine.

She begins her ballad, the contents of which terrify the Rhinegrave, for it is his own awful deed, which he hears. Springing up, he draws his sword against the minstrel, but Silvana rises, protecting him with outstretched arms. All are stupefied; Gerold looks with suspicion on his bride, hanging on the breast of the stranger. He asks for an explanation, but Silvana is silent. It is part of her trial, not to betray the nymph. At the same moment Ratto, the collier, recognizes and claims Silvana as his daughter. Everybody now looks with contempt on the low-born maiden, and the Rhinegrave commands them to be put into prison; but Gerold believing in his bride's innocence though appearances are against her, entreats her once more to defend herself. Silvana only asserts her innocence and her love for Gerold, but will give no proofs. So the collier with his daughter and the minstrel are taken to prison. But when the keeper opens the door in the morning, the minstrel has disappeared.

The old Count, disgusted at the idea of his son's union with a collier's daughter accuses her of being a sorceress. He compels her to confess that she seduced his son by magic arts, and Silvana consents to say anything rather than injure {313} her lover.--She is conducted before a court and condemned to the funeral pile. Gerold, not once doubting her, is resolved to share her death, when in the last critical moment the minstrel once more raises his voice and finishes the ballad, which the Rhinegrave had interrupted so violently. He tells the astonished hearers, that the wife and daughter of the Count, who was slain by his brother, were not burnt in the castle, but escaped to the forest, finding kindly refuge in a poor collier's hut where the mother died, leaving her child, Silvana, under his protection.

The Rhinegrave, full of remorse, embraces Silvana, beseeching her forgiveness, and the lovers are united.

LA SOMNAMBULA.

Opera in two acts by VINCENZO BELLINI.

Text by FELICE ROMANI.

This opera is decidedly of the best of Bellini's muse. Though it does not reach the standard of Norma, its songs are so rich and melodious, that they seem to woo the ear and cannot be heard without pleasure.

Add to these advantages a really fine as well as touching libretto, and it may be easily understood, why the opera has not yet disappeared from the stage repertory, though composed more than fifty years ago.

It is a simple village-peasant story, which we have to relate. The scene of action is a village in {314} Switzerland, where the rich farmer Elvino has married a poor orphan, Amina. The ceremony has taken place at the magistrate's, and Elvino is about to obtain the sanction of the church to his union, when the owner of the castle, Count Rudolph, who fled from home in his boyhood, returns most unexpectedly and, at once making love to Amina, excites the bridegroom's jealousy. Lisa, the young owner of a little inn, who wants Elvino for herself and disdains the devotion of Alexis, a simple peasant, tries to avenge herself on her happy rival. Lisa is a coquette and flirts with the Count, whom the judge recognizes. While she yet prates with him, the door opens and Amina enters, walking in her sleep and calling for Elvino. Lisa conceals herself, but forgets her handkerchief. The Count, seeing Amina's condition and awed by her purity quits the room, where Amina lies down, always in deep sleep. Just then the people, having heard of the Count's arrival, come to greet him and find Amina instead. At the same moment Elvino summoned by Lisa rushes in, and finding his bride in the Count's room, turns away from her in disdain, snatching his wedding-ring from her finger in his wrath, and utterly disbelieving Amina's protestations of innocence and the Count's assurances. Lisa succeeds in attracting Elvino's notice and he promises to marry her.

The Count once more tries to persuade the angry bridegroom of his bride's innocence, but without result, when Teresa, Amina's foster-mother, {315} shows Lisa's handkerchief, which was found in the Count's room. Lisa reddens, and Elvino knows not whom he shall believe, when all of a sudden Amina is seen, emerging from a window of the mill, walking in a trance, and calling for her bridegroom in most touching accents.

All are convinced of her innocence, when they see her in this state of somnambulism, in which she crosses a very narrow bridge without falling.

Elvino himself replaces the wedding-ring on her finger, and she awakes from her trance in his arms. Everybody is happy at the turn which things have taken; Elvino asks Amina's forgiveness and leaves Lisa to her own bitter reflections.

THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.

Comic Opera in four acts by HERMANN GOETZ.

Text done after Shakespeare's comedy by J. V. WIDMANN.

This beautiful opera is the only one, which the gifted young composer left complete, for he died of consumption in his early manhood. His death is all the more to be lamented, as this composition shows a talent, capable of performances far above the average. Its melodies are very fresh and winning, and above all original.

As the subject of the libretto is so generally known, it is not necessary to do more than shortly epitomise here. Of the libretto itself however it may be remarked in passing, that it is uncommonly well done; it is in rhymes which are harmonious and well turned. The translation is quite free and {316} independent, but the sense and the course of action are the same, though somewhat shortened and modified, so that we only find the chief of the persons, we so well know.

Kate is the same headstrong young lady, though she does not appear in a very bad light, her wilfulness being the result of maidenly pride, which is ashamed to appear weak before the stronger sex. She finds her master in Petrucchio however and after a hard and bitter fight with her feelings, she at last avows herself conquered, less by her husband's indomitable will, than by her love for him, which acknowledges him as her best friend and protector.

Then her trials are at an end, and when her sister Bianca with her young husband Lucentio and her father Baptista, visit her, they are witnesses of the perfect harmony and peace which reign in Kate's home.

TANNHÄUSER.

Romantic Opera in three acts by RICHARD WAGNER.

With this opera begins a new era in the history of the German theatre. Tannhäuser is more a drama than an opera, every expression in it is highly dramatic; the management of the orchestra too is quite different from anything hitherto experienced, it dominates everywhere, the voice of the performer being often only an accompaniment to it. Tannhäuser is the first opera, or as Wagner {317} himself called it, drama of this kind, and written after this one, all Wagner's works bear the same stamp.

Wagner took his subject from an old legend, which tells of a minstrel, called Tannhäuser (probably identical with Heinrich von Ofterdingen), who won all prizes by his beautiful songs and all hearts by his noble bearing. So the palm is allotted to him at the yearly "Tournament of Minstrels" on the Wartburg, and his reward is to be the hand of Elizabeth, niece of the Landgrave of Thuringia, whom he loves. But instead of behaving sensibly, this erring knight suddenly disappears nobody knows where, leaving his bride in sorrow and anguish. He falls into the hands of Venus, who holds court in the Hörselberg near Eisenach, and Tannhäuser, at the opening of the first scene, has already passed a whole year with her. At length he has grown tired of sensual love and pleasure, and notwithstanding Venus' allurements he leaves her, vowing never to return to the goddess, but to expiate his sins by a holy life. He returns to the charming vale behind the Wartburg, he hears again the singing of the birds, the shepherds playing on the flute, the pious songs of the pilgrims on their way to Rome. Full of repentance he kneels down and prays, when suddenly the Landgrave appears with some minstrels, amongst them Wolfram von Eschinbach, Tannhäuser's best friend. They greet their long-lost companion, who however cannot tell where he has been all the {318} time, and as Wolfram reminds him of Elizabeth, Tannhäuser returns with the party to the Wartburg.

It is just the anniversary of the Tournament of Minstrels, and in the second act we find Elizabeth with Tannhäuser, who craves her pardon and is warmly welcomed by her. The high prize for the best song is again to be Elizabeth's hand, and Tannhäuser resolves to win her once more. The Landgrave chooses "love" as the subject, whose nature is to be explained by the minstrels. Everyone is called by name, and Wolfram von Eschinbach begins, praising love as a well, deep and pure, a source of the highest and most sacred feeling. Others follow; Walther von der Vogelweide praises the virtue of love, every minstrel celebrates spiritual love alone.

But Tannhäuser, who has been in Venus' fetters, sings of another love, warmer and more passionate, but sensual. And when the others remonstrate, he loudly praises Venus, the goddess of heathen love. All stand aghast, they recognize now, where he has been so long, he is about to be put to death, when Elizabeth prays for him. She loves him dearly and hopes to save his soul from eternal perdition. Tannhäuser is to join a party of pilgrims on their way to Rome, there to crave for the Pope's pardon.

In the third act we see the pilgrims return from their journey. Elizabeth anxiously expects her lover, but he is not among them.--Fervently she prays to the Holy Virgin: but not {319} that a faithful lover may be given back to her, no, rather that he may be pardoned and his immortal soul saved. Wolfram is beside her, he loves the maiden, but he has no thought for himself, he only feels for her, whose life he sees ebbing swiftly away, and for his unhappy friend.

Presently when Elizabeth is gone, Tannhäuser comes up in pilgrim's garb. He has passed a hard journey, full of sacrifices and castigation, and all for nought, for the Pope has rejected him. He has been told in hard words, that he is for ever damned, and will as little get deliverance from his grievous sin, as the stick in his hand will ever bear green leaves afresh.

Full of despair Tannhäuser is returning to seek Venus, whose Siren songs already fall alluringly on his ear. Wolfram entreats him to fly, and when Tannhäuser fails to listen, he utters Elizabeth's name. At this moment a procession descends from the Wartburg, chanting a funeral song over an open bier. Elizabeth lies on it dead, and Tannhäuser sinks on his knee beside her, crying: "Holy Elizabeth, pray for me". Then Venus disappears, and all at once the withered stick begins to bud and blossom, and Tannhäuser, pardoned, expires at the side of his beloved.

Tannhäuser was represented on the Dresden Theatre in June 1890 according to Wagner's changes of arrangement, done by him in Paris 1861 for the Grand Opera by order of Napoleon III., {320} this arrangement the composer acknowledges as the only correct one.

These alterations are limited to the first scene in the mysterious abode of Venus and his motives for the changes become clearly apparent, when it is remembered, that the simple form of Tannhäuser was composed in the years 1843 and 45 in and near Dresden, at a time, when there were neither means nor taste in Germany for such scenes, as those, which excited Wagner's brain. Afterwards success has rendered Wagner bolder and more pretentious and so he endowed the person of Frau Venus with more dramatic power, and thereby threw a vivid light on the great attraction, she exercises on Tannhäuser. The decorations are by far richer and a ballet of Sirens and Fauns was added, a concession, which Wagner had to make to the Parisian taste. Venus's part, now sung by the first primadonnas, has considerably gained by the alterations, and the first scene is far more interesting than before, but it is to be regretted that the Tournament of Minstrels has been shortened and particularly the fine song of Walter von der Vogelweide omitted by Wagner. All else is as of old, as indeed Elizabeth's part needed nothing to add to her purity and loveliness, which stands out now in even bolder relief against the beautiful but sensual part of Venus.

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GUGLIELMO TELL.

Grand Opera in three acts by ROSSINI.

This last opera of Rossini's is his most perfect work and it is deeply to be regretted that when it appeared, he left the dramatic world, to live in comfortable retirement for 39 years. How much he could still have done, if he had chosen! In Tell his genius attains its full depth, here alone we find the highly dramatic element united to the infinite richness of melody, which we have learned to associate with his name and work.

The text is founded on the well-known story of Tell, who delivered his Fatherland from one of its most cruel despots, the Austrian governor Gessler.

The first act opens with a charming introductory chorus by peasants, who are celebrating a nuptial fête.

Tell joins in their pleasure, though he cannot help giving utterance to the pain which the Austrian tyranny causes him. Arnold von Melchthal, son of an old Swiss, has conceived an unhappy passion for Mathilda, Princess of Habsburg, whose life he once saved; but he is Swiss and resolved to be true to his country. He promises Tell to join in his efforts to liberate it. Meanwhile Leuthold, a Swiss peasant, comes up. He is a fugitive, having killed an Austrian soldier, to revenge an intended abduction of his daughter. His only safety lies in crossing the lake, but no fisherman dares to row {322} out in the face of the coming storm. Tell steps forth, and seizing the oars, brings Leuthold safely to the opposite shore. When Rudolf von Harras appears with his soldiers, his prey has escaped and, nobody being willing to betray the deliverer, old father Melchthal is imprisoned.

In the second act we find the Princess Mathilda returning from a hunt. She meets Arnold, and they betray their mutual passion. Arnold does not yet know his father's fate, but presently Tell enters with Walter Fürst, who informs Arnold that his father has fallen a victim to the Austrian tyranny. Arnold, cruelly roused from his love-dream, awakes to duty, and the three men vow bloody vengeance. This is the famous oath taken on the Rütli. The deputies of the three Cantons arrive, one after the other, and Tell makes them swear solemnly to establish Switzerland's independence. Excited by Arnold's dreadful account of his father's murder, they all unite in the fierce cry: "To arms!" which is to be their signal of combat.

In the third act Gessler arrives at the marketplace of Altdorf, where he has placed his hat on a pole, to be greeted instead of himself by the Swiss who pass by.

They grumble at this new proof of arrogance, but dare not disobey the order, till Tell, passing by with his son Gemmy, disregards it. Refusing to salute the hat, he is instantly taken and commanded by Gessler to shoot an apple off his little boy's head. After a dreadful inward struggle Tell {323} submits. Fervently praying to God and embracing his fearless son, he shoots with steady hand, hitting the apple right in the centre. But Gessler has seen a second arrow, which Tell has hidden in his breast, and he asks its purpose. Tell freely confesses, that he would have shot the tyrant, had he missed his aim. Tell is fettered, Mathilda vainly appealing for mercy. But Gessler's time has come. The Swiss begin to revolt. Mathilda herself begs to be admitted into their alliance of free citizens and offers her hand to Arnold. The fortresses of the oppressors fall, Tell enters free and victorious, having himself killed Gessler, and in a chorus at once majestic and grand the Swiss celebrate the day of their liberation.

THE TEMPLAR AND THE JEWESS.

Opera in three acts by HENRY MARSCHNER.

Text by W. A. WOHLBRÜCK.

The subject of this opera is the well-known romance of Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. The poet understood pretty well how to make an effective picture with his somewhat too extensive and imposing material.

Its chief defect lies in the conclusion, which is lacking in poetic justice and cannot be considered satisfactory, for the heroine Rebecca who loves her knightly succourer Ivanhoe, is only pitied by him, and so the difficulty of the situation is not solved to our liking. Apart from this defect, the opera {324} is most interesting and we are won by its beautiful music, which may be called essentially chivalrous and therefore particularly adapted to the romantic text.

In the opening scene we are introduced to the Knight-Templar, Brian de Bois Guilbert, who has fallen in love with the beautiful Jewess Rebecca, and has succeeded in capturing and detaining her in his castle. At the same time Sir Cedric of Rotherwood, a Saxon knight, (father of Ivanhoe, whom he has disinherited), has been taken captive with his ward, the Lady Rowena, by their enemies, the Normans.--Rebecca refuses to hear the Templar's protestations of love, and threatens to precipitate herself from the parapet, if he dares to touch her. Her wild energy conquers; and when he leaves her, Ivanhoe, the wounded knight to whom Rebecca is assigned as nurse, tells her that friends have come to deliver them all.

The outlaws, commanded by Richard Coeur de Lion, under the guise of the Black Knight, assault the castle, burn it and deliver the captives. Poor Rebecca alone falls into the hands of the Templar, who does not cease to press his love-suit. Brian's deed soon becomes known, and his brother-Templars, believing Brian to be innocent, but seduced by a sorceress, condemn Rebecca to the stake. She makes use of her right to ask for a champion, and is allowed till sunset to find one. Brian himself tries all he can to save her, but she rejects his aid, for she loves Ivanhoe, though she is well aware {325} that at this noble knight loves his beautiful cousin Rowena.

The day has nearly passed, the funeral pile awaits its victim, and no champion appears. The trumpets sound for the last time, when Ivanhoe presents himself in the lists to fight Brian, whom the Templars have appointed as his adversary. Ivanhoe is victorious; Brian falls lifeless, even before the enemy's sword touches him. All recognize the judgment of God and Rebecca is given back to her desolate father. At the last moment King Richard, who has long been absent on a crusade to Jerusalem, appears on the scene. He announces that henceforth he alone will govern the land and punish all injustice. Ivanhoe and Rowena are united by consent of Sir Cedric, who is now wholly reconciled to his valorous son.

LA TRAVIATA (OR VIOLETTA).

Opera in three acts by VERDI.

Text taken from the French by PIAVE.

The original of the libretto is Dumas' celebrated novel "La dame aux camélias."

The opera is like all of Verdi's works full of melody and there are numberless special beauties in it. The prelude which opens the opera instead of an overture, is in particular an elegy of a noble and interesting kind. But as the text is frivolous and sensual, of course the music cannot be expected to be wholly free from these characteristics.

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The scene is laid in and near Paris. Alfred Germont is passionately in love with Violetta Valery, one of the most frivolous beauties in Paris. She is pleased with his sincere passion, anything like which she has never hitherto known, and openly telling him, who she is, she warns him herself; but he loves her all the more, and as she returns his passion, she abandons her gay life and follows him into the country, where they live very happily for some months.

Annina, Violetta's maid dropping a hint to Alfred that her mistress is about to sell her house and carriage in town in order to avoid expenses, he departs for the Capital to prevent this.

During his absence Violetta receives a visit from Alfred's father, who tries to show her that she has destroyed not only his family's but his son's happiness by suffering Alfred to unite himself to one so dishonored as herself. He succeeds in convincing her, and, broken-hearted, she determines to sacrifice herself and leave Alfred secretly. Ignoring the possible reason for this inexplicable action, Alfred is full of wrath and resolves to take vengeance. He finds Violetta in the house of a former friend, Flora Bervoix, who is in a position similar to that of Violetta.--The latter, having no other resources and feeling herself at death's door a state of health suggested in the first act by an attack of suffocation, has returned to her former life.

Alfred insults her publicly. The result is a {327} duel between her present adorer, Baron Dauphal and Alfred.

From this time on Violetta declines rapidly, and in the last act, which takes place in her sleeping-room, we find her dying. Hearing that Alfred has been victorious in the duel, and receiving a letter from his father, who is now willing to pardon and to accept her as his daughter-in-law, she revives to some extent and Alfred, who at last hears of her sacrifice, returns to her, but only to afford a last glimpse of happiness to the unfortunate woman, who expires, a modern Magdalen, full of repentance, and striving tenderly to console her lover and his now equally desolate father.

TRISTAN AND ISOLDA.

Lyric Drama in three acts by RICHARD WAGNER.

The music to this drama is deemed by connoisseurs the most perfect ever written by Wagner, but it needs a fine and highly cultivated understanding of music to take in all its beauty and greatness. There is little action in it, and very often the orchestra has the principal part, so that the voice seems little more than an accompaniment, it has musical measures too, which cannot be digested by an uneducated hearer; but nevertheless many parts of it will interest every-one.

Isolda's love-song for instance is the noblest hymn, ever sung in praise of this passion.

The first act represents the deck of a ship, {328} where we find the two principal persons, Tristan and Isolda together,--Tristan, a Cornish hero, has gone over to Ireland, to woo the Princess for his old uncle, King Marke. Isolda however loves Tristan and has loved him from the time when he was cast sick and dying on the coast of Ireland and was rescued and nursed by her, though he was her enemy. But Tristan, having sworn faith to his uncle, never looks at her, and she full of wrath that he wooes her for another instead of for himself, attempts to poison herself and him by a potion. But Brangäna, her faithful attendant secretly changes the poisoned draught for a love-potion, so that they are inevitably joined in passionate love. Only when the ship gets ashore, its deck already covered with knights and sailors, who come to greet their King's bride, does Brangäna confess her fraud, and Isolda, hearing, that she is to live, faints in her attendant's arms.

In the second act Isolda has been wedded to Marke, but the love-potion has worked well, and she has secret interviews at night with Tristan, whose sense of honor is deadened by the fatal draught. Brangäna keeps watch for the lovers, but King Marke's jealous friend Melot betrays them, and they are found out by the good old King, who returns earlier than he had intended from a hunt.

Tristan is profoundly touched by the grief of the King, whose sadness at losing faith in his most noble warrior is greater than his wrath against {329} the betrayer of honor. Tristan, unable to defend himself, turns to Isolda, asking her to follow him into the desert, but Melot opposes him, and they fight, Tristan falling back deadly wounded into his faithful servant Kurvenal's arms.

The third act represents Tristan's home in Brittany, whither Kurvenal has carried his wounded master in order to nurse him. Isolda, so skilled in the art of healing wounds, has been sent for, but they look in vain for the ship, which is to bring her.

When at last it comes into sight, Tristan, who awakes from a long swoon, sends Kurvenal away, to receive his mistress, and as they both delay their coming, his impatient longing gets the better of him. Forgetting his wound, he rises from his couch, tearing away the bandages, and so Isolda is only just in time to catch him in her arms, where he expires with her name on his lips. While she bewails her loss, another ship is announced by the shepherd's horn. King Marke arrives, prepared to pardon all and to unite the lovers. Kurvenal, seeing Melot advance, mistakes them for foes and running his sword through Melot's breast, sinks, himself deadly wounded, at his master's feet. King Marke, to whom Brangäna has confessed her part in the whole matter, vainly laments his friend Tristan, while Isolda, waking from her swoon and seeing her lover dead, pours forth rapturous words of greeting, and, broken-hearted, sinks down dead at his side.

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IL TROVATORE.

Opera in four acts by GIUSEPPE VERDI.

Text by SALVATORE COMMERANO.

Though Verdi is far beneath his celebrated predecessors Rossini and Bellini, he is highly appreciated in his own country and the Trovatore counts many admirers not only in Italy but also abroad. This is easily accounted for by the number of simple and catching melodies contained in his operas, and which have become so quickly popular, that we hear them on every street-organ. Manrico's romance for example, is a good specimen of the work for which he is admired.

The text of Il Trovatore is very gloomy and distressing.

Two men of entirely different station and character woo Leonore, Countess of Sergaste. The one is Count Luna, the other a minstrel, named Manrico, who is believed to be the son of Azucena, a gipsy.

Azucena has in accordance with gipsy-law vowed bloody revenge on Count Luna, because his father, believing her mother to be a sorceress and to have bewitched one of his children, had the old woman burnt. To punish the father for this cruelty Azucena took away his other child, which was vainly sought for. This story is told in the first scene, where we find the Count's servants waiting for him, while he stands sighing beneath his sweetheart's window. But Leonore's heart is {331} already captivated by Manrico's sweet songs and his valour in tournament. She suddenly hears his voice, and in the darkness mistakes the Count for her lover, who however comes up just in time to claim her. The Count is full of rage, and there follows a duel in which Manrico is wounded, but though it is in his power to kill his enemy, he spares his life, without however being able to account for the impulse.

In the second act Azucena, nursing Manrico, tells him of her mother's dreadful fate and her last cry for revenge, and confesses to having robbed the old Count's son, with the intention of burning him. But in her despair and confusion, she says, she threw her own child into the flames, and the Count's son lived. Manrico is terrified, but Azucena retracts her words and regains his confidence, so that he believes her tale to have been but an outburst of remorse and folly.

Meanwhile he hears that Leonore, to whom he was reported as dead, is about to take the veil, and he rushes away to save her. Count Luna arrives before the convent with the same purpose. But just as he seizes his prey, Manrico comes up, and liberates her with the aid of his companions, while the Count curses them.

Leonore becomes Manrico's wife, but her happiness is shortlived.

In the third act the Count's soldiers succeed in capturing Azucena, in whom they recognize the burnt gipsy's daughter. She denies all knowledge {332} of the Count's lost brother, and as the Count hears that his successful rival is her son, she is sentenced to be burnt. Ruiz, Manrico's friend, brings the news to him. Manrico tries to rescue her, but is seized too, and condemned to die by the axe.

In the fourth act Leonore offers herself to the Count as the price of freedom for the captives, but determined to be true to her lover, she takes poison. She hastens to him, announcing his deliverance. Too late he sees how dearly she has paid for it, when after sweet assurance of love and fidelity she sinks dead at his feet.

The Count, coming up and seeing himself deceived, orders Manrico to be put to death instantly.

He is led away, and only after the execution does Azucena inform the Count, that his murdered rival was Luna's own long-sought brother.

DER TROMPETER VON SÄKKINGEN.

(THE TRUMPETER OF SAEKKINGEN.)

Opera in three acts with a prelude by VICTOR NESSLER.

Text by RUDOLF BUNGE after SCHEFFEL'S poem.

Seldom in our days is an opera such a complete success in all German theatres, as this composition of Nessler's has proved to be. To tell the truth, it owes its popularity in great degree to the libretto, which has taken so many fine songs and ideas from its universally known and adored original. Nessler's Trompeter is however in every way inferior to Scheffel's celebrated poem.

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Nevertheless the music, though not very profound is pleasing, and there are several airs in it, which have already become popular.

The prelude opens at Heidelberg, where a chorus of students make a great noise after one of their drinking-bouts. They presently serenade the Princess-Electress, and a law-student, named Werner, a foundling and the adopted son of a professor, distinguishes himself by a solo on the trumpet. He is heard by the trumpeter of the Imperial recruiting officers, who tries to win him, but without success, when suddenly the Rector Magnificus appears, to assist the major-domo, and announces to the astounded disturbers of peace, that they are dismissed from the university.

Werner, taking a sudden resolution, accepts the press-money from Konradin the trumpeter, marches away with the soldiers, and the prelude is closed.