Part 4

In the last act the King, happy to know Malwina safe from discovery, resolves to sacrifice his love to honor and friendship. He is about to give Ankarström the proof of his friendship, by naming {18} him governor of Finland, and the minister is to depart with his wife on the morning after the ball. Meanwhile the King is warned by a missive from an unknown hand, not to appear at the ball, but he disregards it. He meets Malwina at the ball. His page, thinking to do the King a service, has betrayed his mask to Ankarström. Malwina warns the prince, but in vain, for while he presents her with the paper, which is to send her and her husband to their own beloved country, Ankarström shoots him through the heart. Gustavus dies, pardoning his murderer.

THE BARBER OF BAGDAD.

Comic Opera in two acts by PETER CORNELIUS.

It took a long time, before this charming little Opera took its place amongst so many fellow operas much less entitled to notice. The composer had died 15 years previously, without having gained the success he so fully deserved, as poet as well as composer.

Liszt, the great redeemer of many a tried genius brought the opera upon the stage on the 15th of December 1858 in Weimar.

But the Intendant Dingelstedt was against him, the opera proved an entire failure, though it was meant more as demonstration against Liszt than against the opera. Liszt, tired of these disgraceful intrigues, quitted Weimar, only to return there from time to time in private. With his abdication {19} Weimar's glorious time was passed. In 1889 at last the Barber of Bagdad took its rightful place after many years of oblivion.

Munich, Mannheim and Vienna came first and the music having been enthusiastically applauded, Dresden followed the good example in October 1890. The music is full of sweet melody, the composition masterfully set. Its comic parts are not quite natural, but the lyric is almost classical and the text, written by the composer himself, though lacking in action, shows, that Cornelius was a true poet as well as a true musician.

The scene takes place in Bagdad, in the house of a wealthy young Mussulman, called Nurredin. He is lying on a couch, surrounded by his servants, who think him dying. But it is only the flame of love which devours his strength and deprives him of all energy.--As soon as Bostana, an old relative and companion of his ladylove, appears, in order to tell him that Margiana, his adored, is willing to receive him, Nurredin forgets his illness and only longs for the promised interview. The ensuing duet between him and Bostana, wherein she gives instruction about time and hour of the rendez-vous, is delightfully fresh and piquant.

As Nurredin has neglected his personal appearance during his malady, his first wish is for a barber, who is speedily sent to him by Bostana.--This old worthy Abul Hassan Ali Ebe Bekar the barber makes him desperate by his vain prattle. Having solemnly saluted to Nurredin, he warns him not to {20} leave the house to-day, as his horoscope tells him that his life is in danger. The young man not heeding him, Abul Hassan begins to enumerate all his talents as astrologer, philologer, philosopher, &c., in short he is everything and knows everything. When Nurredin orders him to begin his shaving he relates the fate of his six brothers, who all died before him and always of love. At last Nurredin's patience giving way, he calls his servants in to throw the old dotard out of doors. But Abul drives them all back and Nurredin tries to pacify him with flattery and finally succeeds.

Now Abul is curious as all barbers are, and having heard Nurredin's sighs, he determines to find out all about the young man's love. This

## scene is most ludicrous, when Abul sings his air "Margiana", which name

he has heard from Nurredin's lips, and the latter is in despair at being left with only one side of his head shaved. This great work done at last, Abul wants to accompany the young lover to the house of the Cadi Baba Mustapha, Margiana's father. Nurredin again summons his servants, who begin to surround Abul, pretending to doctor him. Nurredin escapes, but Abul after having shaken off the servants, runs after him.

The second act takes place in the Cadi's house.

Margiana is full of sweet anticipation, while her father, who has already chosen a husband for his daughter in the person of an old friend of his youth, shows her a large trunk full of gifts from the old bridegroom. Margiana admires them {21} obediently. A musical scene of surpassing beauty follows, where we hear the call of the Muezzin summoning the faithful to prayer. It is also the sign for Nurredin to appear. The Cadi hurries to the Mosque and Bostana introduces the lover. Here ensues a charming love-duet, accompanied, originally enough, by a song from the old barber, who watches before the house. Suddenly they are interrupted by cries of alarm, and with dismay they learn from Bostana, that the Cadi has returned to punish a slave, who has broken a precious vase.

Nurredin, unable to escape unobserved, is hidden in the big trunk. Meanwhile Abul, having heard the slave's cries and mistaking them for Nurredin's, summons the latter's servants and breaks into the Cadi's house to avenge his young friend, whom he believes to be murdered. Bostana angrily bids him carry away the trunk signifying to him whom she has hidden in it, but the Cadi intervenes, believing the servants to be thieves who want to rob his daughter's treasure. The rumor of the murder gradually penetrates the whole town; its inhabitants gather before the house, and the appointed wailing-women mingle their doleful lamentations with the general uproar. At last the Calif himself appears in order to settle the quarrel.

The Cadi accuses the barber of theft, while Abul calls the Cadi a murderer.--To throw light upon the matter, the Calif orders the trunk to be opened, which is done with great hesitation by {22} Margiana. When the lid gives way Nurredin is lying in it in a deep swoon. All are terrified believing him to be murdered, but Abul, caressing him, declares that his heart still throbs. The Calif bids the barber show his art, and Abul wakens Nurredin by the love-song to Margiana. The young man revives and the truth dawns upon the deceived father's mind. The Calif, a very humane and clement prince, feels great sympathy with the beautiful young couple, and advises the Cadi to let his daughter have her treasure, because he had told them himself, that it was Margiana's treasure, kept hidden in the trunk.

The Cadi consents, while the Calif bids the funny barber come to his palace to entertain him with his stories, and invites all present to the wedding of the betrothed pair, to the great satisfaction of the people, who sing their Salam Aleikum in praise of their Prince,--a brilliant finale, full of energy and melody.--

IL BARBIERE DI SEVIGLIA.

Comic Opera in two acts by ROSSINI.

This opera may be called a miracle of Rossini's creation, as it not only is his best work, but was written by him in a fortnight, a performance nearly incredible, for the music is so finely worked out, and so elegant, that the opera has grown to be a favorite with all nations.

The subject, taken from Beaumarchais' witty trilogy of "Figaros" had ere this lent inspiration {23} to more than one composer; Mozart's "Figaro", though done before the "Barbiere" is in a certain sense the continuation of Rossini's opera.

The Barbiere had the peculiar misfortune, to experience an utter reverse on the occasion of its first representation. It was composed for the Duke Cesarini, proprietor of the Argentina theatre in Rome, and the cabals and intrigues of Paësiello's partisans (who had composed the same subject) turned the balance in Rossini's disfavor. But on the second evening good taste prevailed, and since then the opera has been a universal favorite.

Beaumarchais' tale was worked out anew by the Roman poet, Sterbini; in our opera it runs as follows:

Count Almaviva is enamoured of Rosina, the ward of Doctor Bartolo. She is most jealously guarded by the old man, who wishes to make her his own wife. In vain the Count serenades her; she does not appear, and he must needs invent some other means of obtaining his object. Making the acquaintance of the lighthearted and cunning barber Figaro, the latter advises him to get entrance into Bartolo's house in the guise of a soldier possessing a billet of quartering for his lodgings. Rosina herself has not failed to hear the sweet love-songs of the Count, known to her only under the simple name of Lindoro; and with southern passion, and the lightheartedness, which characterizes all the persons who figure in this opera, but which is not to be mistaken for frivolity, Rosina loves her nice lover {24} and is willing to be his own. Figaro has told her of Almaviva's love, and in return she gives him a note, which she has written in secret. But the old Doctor is a sly fox, he has seen the inky little finger, and determines to keep his eyes open.

When the Count appears in the guise of a half-drunken dragoon, the Doctor sends Rosina away, and tries to put the soldier out of the house, pretending to have a license against all billets. The Count resists, and while Bartolo seeks for his license, makes love to Rosina, but after the Doctor's return there arises such an uproar, that all the neighbors and finally the guards appear, who counsel the Count to retire for once.

In the second act the Count gains entrance to Bartolo's house as a singing-master who is deputed to give a lesson instead of the feverstricken Basilio. Of course the music-lesson is turned into a love-lesson.

When all seems to be going well, the real Maëstro, Basilio, enters and all but frustrates their plans. With gold and promises Figaro bribes him to retreat, and the lovers agree to flee on the coming night.

Almost at the last moment the cunning of Bartolo hinders the projected elopement, he shows a letter, which Rosina has written, and makes Rosina believe that her lover, whom she only knows as Lindoro, in concert with Figaro is betraying her to the Count. Great is her joy, when she detects, that Lindoro and Count Almaviva are one and the {25} same person, and that he loves her as truly as ever.--They bribe the old notary, who has been sent for by Bartolo to arrange his own (Bartolo's) wedding with Rosina. Bartolo signs the contract of marriage, with Figaro as witness, and detects too late that he has been duped, and that he has himself united the lovers. At last he submits with pretty good grace to the inevitable, and contents himself with Rosina's dowry, which the Count generously transfers to him.

BENVENUTO CELLINI.

Opera in three acts by HECTOR BERLIOZ.

Text by de WAILLY and BARRIER, translated into German by PETER CORNELIUS.

This opera by the spirited French musician has had a singular fate. Composed more than forty years ago it never had the success it merited in France; a "succès d'estime" was the only result. Liszt, who was the saviour of many a talented struggler was the first to recognize the genius of the French composer. He brought the opera out upon the stage at Weimar, but without much success. Berlioz was not understood by the public. Devrient in Carlsruhe tried a similar experiment and failed, and so the opera was almost forgotten, until Germany, remembering the duty owed to genius of whatever nationality it may be, placed it upon the stage in Dresden, on the 4th of Nov. 1888 under the leadership of one of the ablest of modern interpreters of music, Director Schuch.--Its representation was {26} a triumph. Though Berlioz can in nowise be compared with Wagner, whose music is much more realistic and sensuous Wagner may nevertheless be said to have opened a path for Berlioz' style, which, though melodious differs widely from that of the easy flowing Italian school, being more serious as well as more difficult for the musical novice to understand. This explains, why Berlioz' compatriots esteemed, but never liked him; he was too scientific. To-day our ears and understanding are better prepared for striking intervals and complicated orchestration, which latter is the most brilliant feature in the opera.

Indeed the instrumentation is simply perfect, the choruses are master-pieces of originality, life and melody, and the rythm with its syncopes, is so remarkable, that one is more than justified in calling the style unique; it is Berlioz and no other.

The text is far less good than the music, though the hero, whose life Goethe found worthy of description in the 24th and 25th volume of his works, might well interest.--The libretto is by no means strictly historical, and suffers from improbabilities, which can only be excused in an opera.

The tale is laid in Rome in the year 1532 under Pope Clement VII, and comprises the events of three days, Monday before Shrove-tide, Shrove-Tuesday and Ash-Wednesday.--Benvenuto Cellini, the Tuscan goldsmith has been called to Rome by the Pope, in order to embellish the city with his {27} masterpieces. He loves Teresa, the daughter of the old papal treasurer Balducci, and the love is mutual.--At the same time another suitor, Fieramosca, the Pope's sculptor, is favored by her father. Old Balducci grumbles in the first scene at the Pope's predilection for Cellini, declaring that such an excellent sculptor as Fieramosca ought to suffice. He goes for a walk and Cellini finds Teresa alone. To save her from Fieramosca he plans an elopement, selecting the close of the Carnival as the time best suited for carrying out their design. The rendez-vous is to be the Piazza di Colonna, where he will wait for her, disguised as a monk in white, accompanied by a Capuchin, his pupil Ascanio.--Unhappily the rival Fieramosca has entered unseen, and overheard all. The ensuing terzetto is a masterpiece. While the lovers are bidding each-other farewell Balducci returns; and Cellini has scarcely time to hide behind the window-curtain before he enters. The father is surprised to find his daughter still up and Teresa, seeking for an excuse to send him away, feigns to be frightened by a thief in her chamber. There Balducci finds the hapless Fieramosca hidden and Cellini meanwhile escapes. Balducci and his daughter calling for help, all the female servants and women of the neighborhood appear armed with brooms and wooden spoons. They fall upon the hapless lover and finally force him to escape through the window.

In the second act we find Cellini in a tavern with his pupils and friends. They have no money {28} left to pay for their wine, when Ascanio brings gold from the Pope, which however he only delivers after Cellini has given a solemn promise to finish at once the statue of Perseus he is engaged upon. Great is the general wrath, when they find the money consist of but a paltry sum, and they resolve to avenge themselves on the avaricious treasurer Balducci, by personating him in the theatre. Fieramosca, who has again been eaves-dropping turns for help to his friend Pompeo, a bravo.--And they decide to outwit Cellini, by adopting the same costumes as he and his pupil.

The scene changes; we see the Piazza di Colonna and the theatre, in which the pantomime of King Midas is acted. Balducci who is there with his daughter among the spectators recognizes in the snoring King a portrait of himself and furiously advances to grapple with him. Cellini profits by the ensuing tumult to approach Teresa, but at the same time Fieramosca comes up with Pompeo, and Teresa cannot discern which is the true lover, owing to the masks.--A fight ensues, in which Cellini stabs Pompeo. He is arrested and Teresa flies with the Capuchin Ascanio to Cellini's atelier. The enraged people are about to lynch the murderer, when three cannon shots are fired announcing that it is Ash-Wednesday; the lights are extinguished and Cellini escapes in the darkness.

The third act represents Cellini's atelier with the workmen in it. Teresa, not finding her lover is in great distress. Ascanio consoles her, and {29} when the Miserere of the Penitents is heard, both join in the prayer to the Holy Virgin.

Suddenly Cellini rushes in, and embracing Teresa, relates that he fled the night before into a house. A procession of penitent monks passing by in the morning, he joined them, as their white cowls were similar to his own disguise. He decides to escape at once to Florence with Teresa, but is already pursued by Balducci, who appears with Fieramosca and insists on his daughter's returning and marrying the latter. At this moment the Cardinal Salviati steps in to look for the statue. He is highly indignant, that Cellini, thoughtless like all artists, has not kept his promise. Hearing him moreover accused by Balducci, he threatens severe punishment and finally declares that Perseus shall be cast by another.--Cellini in the pride of genius and full of rage seizes a hammer, and, surrounded by his workmen declares, that he will rather destroy his work than see it finished by another.

The Cardinal, overcome by fear of the loss, changes his tactics, and in compliance with Cellini's request promises him full pardon and Teresa's hand, if he finishes Perseus in an hour's time, as Cellini offers to do.--Should he fail in his gigantic task, his life will be forfeit.

All set to work at once; even Fieramosca at the Cardinal's request assists. More and more metal is demanded; Cellini sacrifices all his masterpieces in gold and silver. At last the casting is completed, Cellini breaks the mould and the statue {30} of Perseus shines faultlessly forth, a wonder of art, a thing of glory bringing immortality to its maker. All present bend before the greatness of genius and Fieramosca, the rival in art and love is the first to kiss and embrace Cellini, who obtains full pardon and the hand of Teresa along with her father's blessing.

BY ORDER OF HIS HIGHNESS

(AUF HOHEN BEFEHL.)

Comic Opera in three acts by CARL REINECKE.

Text by the composer after RIEHL's novel: "Ovidius at Court."

Reinecke of Leipzig is known both as excellent pianist and composer of no ordinary talent. The Dresden theatre has been one of the first to put the new opera upon its boards and with regard to the music, the expectations entertained have been fully realised.

It is true music, melodious and beautiful. Reinecke's musical language free, untrammelled and suggestive, only assumes decided form in the character of a song, or when several voices are united. The instrumentation is very interesting and the popular melody remarkably well characterized.

So he introduces for instance the wellknown popular song: "Kein Feuer, keine Kohle" (no fire, no coal can burn) with the most exquisite variations.

The libretto is not as perfect as the music, being rather improbable.

A little German Residential Capital of the last century forms the background to the picture.

{31}

Franz, the son of the Organist Ignaz Laemml, introduces himself to Dal Segno, the celebrated Italian singing-master as the Bohemian singer Howora. He obtains lessons from the capricious old man, who however fails to recognize in him the long-absent son of his old enemy. Cornelia, Dal Segno's daughter however is not so slow in recognizing the friend of her childhood, who loves her and has all her love, as we presently learn. Franz has only taken the name of Howora, in order to get into favor with the maiden's father, an endeavour in which he easily succeeds owing to his musical talents.

Meanwhile the Prince is determined to have an opera composed from Ovid's metamorphoses. He has chosen Pyramus and Thisbe, but as the Princess is of a very gay disposition, a request is made that the tragedy have a happy solution, a whim which puts old pedantic Laemml quite out of sorts.

In the second act Louis, one of the princely lackeys, brings a large cracknel and huge paper-cornet of sweets for Cornelia, whom he courts and whose favor he hopes in this way to win.

When he is gone, Dal Segno's sister Julia, lady's maid to the Princess, enters with birthday-presents for her niece Cornelia, and among the things which attract her attentions sees the cracknel, beside which she finds a note from her own faithless lover Louis. Filled with righteous indignation she takes it away.

Cornelia stepping out to admire her {32} birthday-presents, meets Franz, and after a tender scene, the young man tells his lady-love, that he has been fortunate enough to invent for his father a happy issue to the tragedy of Pyramus and Thisbe, and that they may now hope the best from the grateful old master.

Meanwhile good old Laemml himself appears to ask his old enemy Dal Segno to give singing-lessons to his dear son. The Italian teacher is very rude and ungracious, Laemml's blood rises also and a fierce quarrel ensues, which is interrupted by the arrival of the Prince. Having heard their complaints, he decides that the quarrel is to be settled by a singing competition in which Howora, Dal Segno's new and greatly praised pupil, and Franz, Laemml's son, are to contest for the laurels. Both masters are content and decide on a duet for tenor and soprano. This is a happy choice and Franz, who with Cornelia has heard everything, causes his lady-love to disguise herself, in order to play the part of Franz, while he decides to appear as Howora.

In the third act the Princess receives old Laemml, who comes to tell her, that he has complied with her wishes as to the happy issue of the tale and confides to her his son's secret, that Franz and Howora are one and the same person.--The gracious Princess promises her assistance, and Laemml leaves her very happy, dancing and merry-making with the Prince's fool.--

In the evening Louis finds Julia attired in {33} Cornelia's dress, and believing her to be her niece, he places a ring on her finger and once more pledges his faith to his old love.

The two singers perform their duet so perfectly, that Laemml, uncertain who will obtain the prize begs for a solo. Each-one then sings a popular song (Volkslied), and all agree that Howora has triumphed. The happy victor is crowned with the laurels. But the Princess, touched by the sweet voice of the other singer puts a rose-wreath on his brow. When the cap is taken off, Dal Segno perceives that the pretended Franz has the curls of his own daughter.--Howora being presented to him as Laemml's son, he can do no other than yield. He embraces old Laemml and gives his benediction to the lovers.

CARLO BROSCHI

or

THE DEVIL'S PART.

Comic Opera in three acts by AUBER.

Text by SCRIBE.

This composition might rather be called a Vaudeville with musical accompaniment, than an opera. The music is not above mediocrity, though we find many pleasing and even exquisite melodies in it. That it has held its present place on the stage for the past forty years is due principally to its excellent libretto, which is full of comical and ingenious situations. The principal role is given to Carlo Broschi. He is no other than the famous {34} singer Farinelli, who as a matter of fact did heal a Spanish King from madness, though it was not Ferdinand IV, but his predecessor Philip V, the husband of Elizabeth of Ferrara. Notwithstanding these anachronisms the libretto ranks with the best.