Part II

of Goethe's drama, the main thread of the action suddenly

seems broken. The skein ravels. That is why one of the most profound works for the lyric stage, one of the most beautiful scores that has come out of Italy, is heard so rarely.

Theodore T. Barker prefaces his translation of the libretto, published by Oliver Ditson Company, with a recital of the story.

The Prologue opens in the nebulous regions of space, in which float the invisible legions of angels, cherubs, and seraphs. These lift their voices in a hymn of praise to the Supreme Ruler of the universe. _Mefistofele_ enters on the scene at the close of the anthem, and, standing erect amid the clouds, with his feet upon the border of his cloak, mockingly addresses the Deity. In answer to the question from the mystic choir, "Knowest thou Faust?" he answers contemptuously, and offers to wager that he will be able to entice _Faust_ to evil, and thus gain a victory over the powers of good. The wager is accepted, and the spirits resume their chorus of praise.

Musically the Prologue is full of interest. There are five distinct periods of music, varied in character, so that it gives necessary movement to a scene in which there is but little stage action. There are the prelude with mystic choir; the sardonic scherzo foreshadowing the entry of _Mefistofele_; his scornful address, in which finally he engages to bring about the destruction of _Faust's_ soul; a vivacious chorus of cherubs (impersonated by twenty-four boys); a psalmody of penitents and spirits.

## Act I. The drama opens on Easter Sunday, at Frankfort-on-the-Main.

Crowds of people of all conditions move in and out of the city gates. Among them appears a grey friar, an object of both reverence and dread to those near him. The aged _Dr. Faust_ and his pupil _Wagner_ descend from a height and enter upon the scene, shadowed by the friar, whose actions they discuss. _Faust_ returns to his laboratory, still at his heels the friar, who, unheeded, enters with him, and conceals himself in an alcove. _Faust_ gives himself to meditation, and upon opening the sacred volume, is startled by a shriek from the friar as he rushes from his place of concealment. _Faust_ makes the all-potent "sign of Solomon," which compels _Mefistofele_ to throw off his friar's disguise and to appear in his own person in the garb of a cavalier, with a black cloak upon his arm. In reply to _Faust's_ questionings, he declares himself the spirit that denieth all things, desiring only the complete ruin of the world, and a return to chaos and night. He offers to make _Faust_ the companion of his wanderings, upon certain conditions, to which the latter agrees, saying: "If thou wilt bring me one hour of peace, in which my soul may rest--if thou wilt unveil the world and myself before me--if I may find cause to say to some flying moment, 'Stay, for thou art blissful,' then let me die, and let hell's depths engulf me." The contract completed, _Mefistofele_ spreads his cloak, and both disappear through the air.

The first scene of this act gains its interest from the reflection in the music of the bustle and animation of the Easter festival. The score plastically follows the many changing incidents of the scene upon the stage. Conspicuous in the episodes in _Faust's_ laboratory are _Faust's_ beautiful air, "Dai campi, dai prati" (From the fields and from the meadows); and _Mefistofele's_ proclamation of his identity, "Son lo spirito che nega" (I am the spirit that denieth).

## Act II opens with the garden scene. _Faust_, rejuvenated, and under

the name of _Henry_; _Margaret_, _Mefistofele_, and _Martha_ stroll here and there in couples, chatting and love-making. Thence _Mefistofele_ takes _Faust_ to the heights of the Brocken, where he witnesses the orgies of the Witches' Sabbath. The fiend is welcomed and saluted as their king. _Faust_, benumbed and stupefied, gazes into the murky sky, and experiences there a vision of _Margaret_, pale, sad, and fettered with chains.

In this act the garden scene is of entrancing grace. It contains _Faust's_ "Colma il tuo cor d'un palpito" (Flood thou thy heart with all the bliss), and the quartet of farewell, with which the scene ends, _Margaret_, with the gay and reckless laugh of ineffable bliss, exclaiming to _Faust_ that she loves him. The scene in the Brocken, besides the whirl of the witches' orgy, has a solo for _Mefistofele_, when the weird sisters present to him a glass globe, reflected in which he sees the earth. "Ecco il mondo" (Behold the earth).

## Act III. The scene is a prison. _Margaret_ lies extended upon a heap

of straw, mentally wandering, and singing to herself. _Mefistofele_ and _Faust_ appear outside the grating. They converse hurriedly, and _Faust_ begs for the life of _Margaret_. _Mefistofele_ promises to do what he can, and bids him haste, for the infernal steeds are ready for flight. He opens the cell, and _Faust_ enters it. _Margaret_ thinks the jailors have come to release her, but at length recognizes her lover. She describes what followed his desertion of her, and begs him to lay her in death beside her loved ones;--her babe, whom she drowned, her mother whom she is accused of having poisoned. _Faust_ entreats her to fly with him, and she finally consents, saying that in some far distant isle they may yet be happy. But the voice of _Mefistofele_ in the background recalls her to the reality of the situation. She shrinks away from _Faust_, prays to Heaven for mercy, and dies. Voices of the celestial choir are singing softly "She's saved!" _Faust_ and _Mefistofele_ escape, as the executioner and his escort appear in the background.

The act opens with _Margaret's_ lament, "L'altra notte in fonda al mare" (To the sea, one night in sadness), in which she tells of the drowning of her babe. There is an exquisite duet, for _Margaret_ and _Faust_, "Lontano, sui flutti d'un ampio oceano" (Far away, o'er the waves of a far-spreading ocean).

## Act IV. _Mefistofele_ takes _Faust_ to the shores of the Vale of

Tempe. _Faust_ is ravished with the beauty of the scene while _Mefistofele_ finds that the orgies of the _Brocken_ were more to his taste.

'Tis the night of the classic Sabbath. A band of young maidens appear, singing and dancing. _Mefistofele_, annoyed and confused, retires. _Helen_ enters with chorus, and, absorbed by a terrible vision, rehearses the story of Troy's destruction. _Faust_ enters, richly clad in the costume of a knight of the fifteenth century, followed by _Mefistofele_, _Nereno_, _Pantalis_, and others, with little fauns and sirens. Kneeling before _Helen_, he addresses her as his ideal of beauty and purity. Thus pledging to each other their love and devotion, they wander through the bowers and are lost to sight.

_Helen's_ ode, "La luna immobile innonda l'etere" (Motionless floating, the moon floods the dome of night); her dream of the destruction of Troy; the love duet for _Helen_ and _Faust_, "Ah! Amore! mistero celeste" ('Tis love, a mystery celestial); and the dexterous weaving of a musical background by orchestra and chorus, are the chief features in the score to this act.

In the Epilogue, we find _Faust_ in his laboratory once more--an old man, with death fast approaching, mourning over his past life, with the holy volume open before him. Fearing that _Faust_ may yet escape him, _Mefistofele_ spreads his cloak, and urges _Faust_ to fly with him through the air. Appealing to Heaven, _Faust_ is strengthened by the sound of angelic songs, and resists. Foiled in his efforts, _Mefistofele_ conjures up a vision of beautiful sirens. _Faust_ hesitates a moment, flies to the sacred volume, and cries, "Here at last I find salvation"; then falling on his knees in prayer, effectually overcomes the temptations of the evil one. He then dies amid a shower of rosy petals, and to the triumphant song of a celestial choir. _Mefistofele_ has lost his wager, and holy influences have prevailed.

We have here _Faust's_ lament, "Giunto sul passo estremo" (Nearing the utmost limit); his prayer, and the choiring of salvation.

* * * * *

Arrigo Boïto was, it will be recalled, the author of the books to Ponchielli's opera "La Gioconda," and Verdi's "Otello" and "Falstaff." He was born in Padua, February 24, 1842. From 1853 to 1862 he was a pupil of the Milan Conservatory. During a long sojourn in Germany and Poland he became an ardent admirer of Wagner's music. Since "Mefistofele" Boïto has written and composed another opera, "Nerone" (Nero), but has withheld it from production.

Amilcare Ponchielli

(1834-1886)

Amilcare Ponchielli, the composer of "La Gioconda," was born at Paderno Fasolaro, Cremona, August 31, 1834. He studied music, 1843-54, at the Milan Conservatory. In 1856 he brought out at Cremona an opera, "I Promessi Sposi" (The Betrothed), which, in a revised version, Milan, 1872, was his first striking success. The same care Ponchielli bestowed upon his studies, which lasted nearly ten years, he gave to his works. Like "I Promessi Sposi," his opera, "I Lituani" (The Lithuanians), brought out in 1874, was revived ten years later, as "Alguna"; and, while "La Gioconda" (1876) did not wait so long for success, it too was revised and brought out in a new version before it received popular acclaim. Among his other operas are, 1880, "Il Figliuol Prodigo" (The Prodigal Son), and, 1885, "Marion Delorme." "La Gioconda," however, is the only one of his operas that has made its way abroad.

Ponchielli died at Milan, January 16, 1886. He was among the very first Italian composers to yield to modern influences and enrich his score with instrumental effects intended to enhance its beauty and give the support of an eloquent and expressive accompaniment to the voice without, however, challenging its supremacy. His influence upon his Italian contemporaries was considerable. He, rather than Verdi, is regarded by students of music as the founder of the modern school of Italian opera. What really happened is that there was going on in Italy, influenced by a growing appreciation of Wagner's works among musicians, a movement for a more advanced style of lyric drama. Ponchielli and Boïto were leaders in this movement. Verdi, a far greater genius than either of these, was caught up in it, and, because of his genius, accomplished more in it than the actual leaders. Ponchielli's influence still is potent. For he was the teacher of the most famous living Italian composer of opera, Giacomo Puccini.

LA GIOCONDA

THE BALLAD SINGER

Opera in four acts by Ponchielli, libretto by Arrigo Boïto, after Victor Hugo's play, "Angelo, Tyrant of Padua." Boïto signed the book with his anagram, "Tobia Gorrio." Produced in its original version, La Scala, Milan, April 8, 1876; and with a new version of the libretto in Genoa, December, 1876. London, Covent Garden, May 31, 1883. New York, December 20, 1883 (for details, see below); revived, Metropolitan Opera House, November 28, 1904, with Nordica, Homer, Edyth Walker, Caruso, Giraldoni, and Plançon; later with Destinn, Ober, and Amato.

CHARACTERS

LA GIOCONDA, a ballad singer _Soprano_ LA CIECA, her blind mother _Contralto_ ALVISE, one of the heads of the State Inquisition _Bass_ LAURA, his wife _Mezzo-Soprano_ ENZO GRIMALDO, a Genoese noble _Tenor_ BARNABA, a spy of the Inquisition _Baritone_ ZUÀNE, a boatman _Bass_ ISÈPO, a public letter-writer _Tenor_ A PILOT _Bass_

Monks, senators, sailors, shipwrights, ladies, gentlemen, populace, maskers, guards, etc.

_Time_--17th Century.

_Place_--Venice.

[Illustration: Copyright photo by Mishkin

Amato as Barnaba in "La Gioconda"]

Twenty-one years elapsed between the production of "La Gioconda" at the Metropolitan Opera House and its revival. Since its reawakening it has taken a good hold on the repertoire, which makes it difficult to explain why it should have been allowed to sleep so long. It may be that possibilities of casting it did not suggest themselves. Not always does "Cielo e mar" flow as suavely from lips as it does from those of Caruso. Then, too, managers are superstitious, and may have hesitated to make re-trial of anything that had been attempted at that first season of opera at the Metropolitan, one of the most disastrous on record. Even Praxede Marcelline Kochanska (in other words Marcella Sembrich), who was a member of Henry E. Abbey's troupe, was not re-engaged for this country, and did not reappear at the Metropolitan until fourteen years later.

"La Gioconda" was produced at that house December 20, 1883, with Christine Nilsson in the title rôle; Scalchi as _La Cieca_; Fursch-Madi as _Laura_; Stagno as _Enzo_; Del Puente as _Barnaba_; and Novara as _Alvise_. Cavalazzi, one of the leading dancers of her day, appeared in the "Danza delle Ore" (Dance of the Hours). It was a good performance, but Del Puente hardly was sinister enough for _Barnaba_, or Stagno distinguished enough in voice and personality for _Enzo_.

There was in the course of the performance an unusual occurrence and one that is interesting to hark back to. Nilsson had a voice of great beauty--pure, limpid, flexible--but not one conditioned to a severe dramatic strain. Fursch-Madi, on the other hand, had a large, powerful voice and a singularly dramatic temperament. When _La Gioconda_ and _Laura_ appeared in the great duet in the second act, "L'amo come il fulgor del creato" (I love him as the light of creation), Fursch-Madi, without great effort, "took away" this number from Mme. Nilsson, and completely eclipsed her. When the two singers came out in answer to the recalls, Mme. Nilsson, as etiquette demanded, was slightly in advance of the mezzo-soprano, for whom, however, most of the applause was intended. Mme. Fursch-Madi was a fine singer, but lacked the pleasing personality and appealing temperament that we spoiled Americans demand of our singers. She died, in extreme poverty and after a long illness, in a little hut on one of the Orange mountains in New Jersey, where an old chorus singer had given her shelter. She had appeared in many tragedies of the stage, but none more tragic than her own last hours.

Each act of "La Gioconda" has its separate title: Act I, "The Lion's Mouth"; Act II, "The Rosary"; Act III, "The House of Gold"; Act IV, "The Orfano Canal." The title of the opera can be translated as "The Ballad Singer," but the Italian title appears invariably to be used.

## Act I. "The Lion's Mouth." Grand courtyard of the Ducal palace,

decorated for festivities. At back, the Giant's Stairway, and the Portico della Carta, with doorway leading to the interior of the Church of St. Mark. On the left, the writing-table of a public letter-writer. On one side of the courtyard one of the historic Lion's Mouths, with the following inscription cut in black letters into the wall:

FOR SECRET DENUNCIATIONS TO THE INQUISITION AGAINST ANY PERSON, WITH IMPUNITY, SECRECY, AND BENEFIT TO THE STATE.

It is a splendid afternoon in spring. The stage is filled with holiday-makers, monks, sailors, shipwrights, masquers, etc., and amidst the busy crowd are seen some Dalmatians and Moors.

_Barnaba_, leaning his back against a column, is watching the people. He has a small guitar, slung around his neck.

The populace gaily sings, "Feste e pane" (Sports and feasting). They dash away to watch the regatta, when _Barnaba_, coming forward, announces that it is about to begin. He watches them disdainfully. "Above their graves they are dancing!" he exclaims. _Gioconda_ leads in _La Cieca_, her blind mother. There is a duet of much tenderness between them: "Figlia, che reggi il tremulo" (Daughter in thee my faltering steps).

_Barnaba_ is in love with the ballad singer, who has several times repulsed him. For she is in love with _Enzo_, a nobleman, who has been proscribed by the Venetian authorities, but is in the city in the disguise of a sea captain. His ship lies in the Fusina Lagoon.

_Barnaba_ again presses his love upon the girl. She escapes from his grasp and runs away, leaving her mother seated by the church door. _Barnaba_ is eager to get _La Cieca_ into his power in order to compel _Gioconda_ to yield to his sinister desires. Opportunity soon offers. For, now the regatta is over, the crowd returns bearing in triumph the victor in the contest. With them enter _Zuàne_, the defeated contestant, _Gioconda_, and _Enzo_. _Barnaba_ subtly insinuates to _Zuàne_ that _La Cieca_ is a witch, who has caused his defeat by sorcery. The report quickly spreads among the defeated boatman's friends. The populace becomes excited. _La Cieca_ is seized and dragged from the church steps. _Enzo_ calls upon his sailors, who are in the crowd, to aid him in saving her.

At the moment of greatest commotion the palace doors swing open. From the head of the stairway where stand _Alvise_ and his wife, _Laura_, who is masked, _Alvise_ sternly commands an end to the rioting, then descends with _Laura_.

_Barnaba_, with the keenness that is his as chief spy of the Inquisition, is quick to observe that, through her mask, _Laura_ is gazing intently at _Enzo_, and that _Enzo_, in spite of _Laura's_ mask, appears to have recognized her and to be deeply affected by her presence. _Gioconda_ kneels before _Alvise_ and prays for mercy for her mother. When _Laura_ also intercedes for _La Cieca_, _Alvise_ immediately orders her freed. In one of the most expressive airs of the opera, "Voce di donna, o d'angelo" (Voice thine of woman, or angel fair), _La Cieca_ thanks _Laura_ and gives to her a rosary, at the same time extending her hands over her in blessing.

She also asks her name. _Alvise's_ wife, still masked, and looking significantly in the direction of _Enzo_, answers, "Laura!"

"'Tis she!" exclaims _Enzo_.

The episode has been observed by _Barnaba_, who, when all the others save _Enzo_ have entered the church, goes up to him and, despite his disguise as a sea captain, addresses him by his name and title, "Enzo Grimaldo, Prince of Santa Fior."

The spy knows the whole story. _Enzo_ and _Laura_ were betrothed. Although they were separated and she obliged to wed _Alvise_, and neither had seen the other since then, until the meeting a few moments before, their passion still is as strong as ever. _Barnaba_, cynically explaining that, in order to obtain _Gioconda_ for himself, he wishes to show her how false _Enzo_ is, promises him that he will arrange for _Laura_, on that night, to be aboard _Enzo's_ vessel, ready to escape with him to sea.

_Enzo_ departs. _Barnaba_ summons one of his tools, _Isèpo_, the public letter-writer, whose stand is near the Lion's Mouth. At that moment _Gioconda_ and _La Cieca_ emerge from the church, and _Gioconda_, seeing _Barnaba_, swiftly draws her mother behind a column, where they are hidden from view. The girl hears the spy dictate to _Isèpo_ a letter, for whom intended she does not know, informing someone that his wife plans to elope that evening with _Enzo_. Having thus learned that _Enzo_ no longer loves her, she vanishes with her mother into the church. _Barnaba_ drops the letter into the Lion's Mouth. _Isèpo_ goes. The spy, as keen in intellect as he is cruel and unrelenting in action, addresses in soliloquy the Doge's palace. "O monumento! Regia e bolgia dogale!" (O mighty monument, palace and den of the Doges).

The masquers and populace return. They are singing. They dance "La Furlana." In the church a monk and then the chorus chant. _Gioconda_ and her mother come out. _Gioconda_ laments that _Enzo_ should have forsaken her. _La Cieca_ seeks to comfort her. In the church the chanting continues.

## Act II. "The Rosary." Night. A brigantine, showing its starboard side.

In front, the deserted bank of an uninhabited island in the Fusina Lagoon. In the farthest distance, the sky and the lagoon. A few stars visible. On the right, a cloud, above which the moon is rising. In front, a small altar of the Virgin, lighted by a red lamp. The name of the brigantine--"Hecate"--painted on the prow. Lanterns on the deck.

At the rising of the curtain sailors are discovered; some seated on the deck, others standing in groups, each with a speaking trumpet. Several cabin boys are seen, some clinging to the shrouds, some seated. Remaining thus grouped, they sing a _Marinaresca_, in part a sailors' "chanty," in part a regular melody.

In a boat _Barnaba_ appears with _Isèpo_. They are disguised as fishermen. _Barnaba_ sings a fisherman's ballad, "Ah! Pescator, affonda l'esca" (Fisher-boy, thy net now lower).

[Music]

He has set his net for _Enzo_ and _Laura_, as well as for _Gioconda_, as his words, "Some sweet siren, while you're drifting, in your net will coyly hide," imply. The song falls weirdly upon the night. The

## scene is full of "atmosphere."

_Enzo_ comes up on deck, gives a few orders; the crew go below. He then sings the famous "Cielo e mar!" (O sky, and sea)--an impassioned voicing of his love for her whom he awaits. The scene, the moon having emerged from behind a bank of clouds, is of great beauty.

[Music]

A boat approaches. In it _Barnaba_ brings _Laura_ to _Enzo_. There is a rapturous greeting. They are to sail away as soon as the setting of the moon will enable the ship to depart undetected. There is distant singing. _Enzo_ goes below. _Laura_ kneels before the shrine and prays, "Stella del marinar! Vergine santa!" (Star of the mariner! Virgin most holy).

_Gioconda_ steals on board and confronts her rival. The duet between the two women, who love _Enzo_, and in which each defies the other, "L'amo come il fulgor del creato" (I adore him as the light of creation), is the most dramatic number in the score.

[Music]

[Illustration: Copyright photo by Dupont

Caruso as Enzo in "La Gioconda"]

[Illustration: Copyright photo by Dupont

Louise Homer as Laura in "La Gioconda"]

_Gioconda_ is about to stab _Laura_, but stops suddenly and, seizing her with one hand, points with the other out over the lagoon, where a boat bearing _Alvise_ and his armed followers is seen approaching. _Laura_ implores the Virgin for aid. In doing so she lifts up the rosary given to her by _La Cieca_. Through it _Gioconda_ recognizes in _Laura_ the masked lady who saved her mother from the vengeance of the mob. Swiftly the girl summons the boat of two friendly boatmen who have brought her thither, and bids _Laura_ make good her escape. When _Barnaba_ enters, his prey has evaded him. _Gioconda_ has saved her. _Barnaba_ hurries back to _Alvise's_ galley, and, pointing to the fugitive boat in the distance, bids the galley start in pursuit.

_Enzo_ comes on deck. Instead of _Laura_ he finds _Gioconda_. There is a dramatic scene between them. Venetian galleys are seen approaching. Rather than that his vessel shall be captured by them, _Enzo_ sets fire to it.

## Act III. "The House of Gold." A room in _Alvise's_ house. _Alvise_

sings of the vengeance he will wreak upon _Laura_ for her betrayal of his honour. "Sì! morir ella de'" (Yes, to die is her doom).

He summons _Laura_. Nocturnal serenaders are heard singing without, as they wend their way in gondolas along the canal. _Alvise_ draws the curtains from before a doorway and points to a funeral bier erected in the chamber beyond. To _Laura_ he hands a vial of swift poison. She must drain it before the last note of the serenade they now hear has died away. He will leave her. The chorus ended, he will return to find her dead.

When he has gone, _Gioconda_, who, anticipating the fate that might befall the woman who has saved her mother, has been in hiding in the palace, hastens to _Laura_, and hands her a flask containing a narcotic that will create the semblance of death. _Laura_ drinks it, and disappears through the curtains into the funeral chamber. _Gioconda_ pours the poison from the vial into her own flask, and leaves the empty vial on the table.

The serenade ceases. _Alvise_ re-entering, sees the empty vial on the table. He enters the funeral apartment for a brief moment. _Laura_ is lying as one dead upon the bier. He believes that he has been obeyed and that _Laura_ has drained the vial of poison.

The scene changes to a great hall in _Alvise's_ house, where he is receiving his guests. Here occurs the "Dance of the Hours," a ballet suite which, in costume changes, light effects and choreography represents the hours of dawn, day, evening, and night. It is also intended to symbolize, in its mimic action, the eternal struggle between the powers of darkness and light.

_Barnaba_ enters, dragging in with him _La Cieca_, whom he has found concealed in the house. _Enzo_ also has managed to gain admittance. _La Cieca_, questioned as to her purpose in the House of Gold, answers, "For her, just dead, I prayed." A hush falls upon the fête. The passing bell for the dead is heard slowly tolling. "For whom?" asks _Enzo_ of _Barnaba_. "For Laura," is the reply. The guests shudder. "D'un vampiro fatal l'ala fredda passò" (As if over our brows a vampire's wing had passed), chants the chorus. "Già ti vedo immota e smorta" (I behold thee motionless and pallid), sings _Enzo_. _Barnaba_, _Gioconda_, _La Cieca_, and _Alvise_ add their voices to an ensemble of great power. _Alvise_ draws back the curtains of the funeral chamber, which also gives upon the festival hall. He points to _Laura_ extended upon the bier. _Enzo_, brandishing a poniard, rushes upon _Alvise_, but is seized by guards.

## Act IV. "The Orfano Canal." The vestibule of a ruined palace on the

island of Giudecca. In the right-hand corner an opened screen, behind which is a bed. Large porch at back, through which are seen the lagoon, and, in the distance, the square of Saint Mark, brilliantly illuminated. A picture of the Virgin and a crucifix hang against the wall. Table and couch; on the table a lamp and a lighted lantern; the flask of poison and a dagger. On a couch are various articles of mock jewelry belonging to _Gioconda_.

On the right of the scene a long, dimly lighted street. From the end two men advance, carrying in their arms _Laura_, who is enveloped in a black cloak. The two _cantori_ (street singers) knock at the door. It is opened by _Gioconda_, who motions them to place their burden upon the couch behind the screen. As they go, she pleads with them to search for her mother, whom she has not been able to find since the

## scene in the House of Gold.

She is alone. Her love for _Enzo_, greater than her jealousy of _Laura_, has prompted her to promise _Barnaba_ that she will give herself to him, if he will aid _Enzo_ to escape from prison and guide him to the Orfano Canal. Now, however, despair seizes her. In a dramatic soliloquy--a "terrible song," it has been called--she invokes suicide. "Suicidio! ... in questi fieri momenti tu sol mi resti" (Aye, suicide, the sole resource now left me). For a moment she even thinks of carrying out _Alvise's_ vengeance by stabbing _Laura_ and throwing her body into the water--"for deep is yon lagoon."

Through the night a gondolier's voice calls in the distance over the water: "Ho! gondolier! hast thou any fresh tidings?" Another voice, also distant: "In the Orfano Canal there are corpses."

In despair _Gioconda_ throws herself down weeping near the table. _Enzo_ enters. In a tense scene _Gioconda_ excites his rage by telling him that she has had _Laura's_ body removed from the burial vault and that he will not find it there. He seizes her. His poniard already is poised for the thrust. Hers--so she hopes--is to be the ecstacy of dying by his hand!

At that moment, however, the voice of _Laura_, who is coming out of the narcotic, calls, "Enzo!" He rushes to her, and embraces her. In the distance is heard a chorus singing a serenade. It is the same song, before the end of which _Alvise_ had bidden _Laura_ drain the poison. Both _Laura_ and _Enzo_ now pour out words of gratitude to _Gioconda_. The girl has provided everything for flight. A boat, propelled by two of her friends, is ready to convey them to a barque, which awaits them. What a blessing, after all, the rosary, bestowed upon the queenly _Laura_ by an old blind woman has proved to be. "Che vedo là! Il rosario!" (What see I there! 'Tis the rosary!) Thus sings _Gioconda_, while _Enzo_ and _Laura_ voice their thanks: "Sulle tue mani l'anima tutta stempriamo in pianto" (Upon thy hands thy generous tears of sympathy are falling). The scene works up to a powerful climax.

Once more _Gioconda_ is alone. The thought of her compact with _Barnaba_ comes over her. She starts to flee the spot, when the spy himself appears in the doorway. Pretending that she wishes to adorn herself for him, she begins putting on the mock jewelry, and, utilizing the opportunity that brings her near the table, seizes the dagger that is lying on it.

"Gioconda is thine!" she cries, facing _Barnaba_, then stabs herself to the heart.

Bending over the prostrate form, the spy furiously shouts into her ear, "Last night thy mother did offend me. I have strangled her!" But no one hears him. _La Gioconda_ is dead. With a cry of rage, he rushes down the street.

French Opera

Gluck, Wagner, and Verdi each closed an epoch. In Gluck there culminated the pre-Mozartean school. In Mozart two streams of opera found their source. "Don Giovanni" and "Le Nozze di Figaro" were inspirations to Rossini, to whom, in due course of development, varied by individual characteristics, there succeeded Bellini, Donizetti, and Verdi.

The second stream of opera which found its source in Mozart was German. The score of "Die Zauberflöte" showed how successfully the rich vein of popular melody, or folk music, could be worked for the lyric stage. The hint was taken by Weber, from whom, in the course of gradual development, there derived Richard Wagner.

Meanwhile, however, there was another development which came direct from Gluck. His "Iphigénie en Aulide," "Orphée et Eurydice," "Alceste," and "Armide" were produced at the Académie Royale de Musique, founded by Lully in 1672, and now the Grand Opéra, Paris. They contributed materially to the development of French grand opera, which derives from Gluck, as well as from Lully (pp. 1, 4, and 6), and Rameau (p. 1). French opera also was sensibly influenced, and its development in the serious manner furthered, by one of the most learned of composers, Luigi Cherubini, for six years professor of composition and for twenty years thereafter (1821-1841) director of the Paris Conservatoire and at one time widely known as the composer of the operas "Les Deux Journées" (Paris, 1800; London, as "The Water-carrier," 1801); and "Faniska," Vienna, 1806.

To the brief statement regarding French grand opera on p. 2, I may add, also briefly, that manner as well as matter is a characteristic of all French art. The Frenchman is not satisfied with what he says, unless he says it in the best possible manner or style. Thus, while Italian composers long were contented with an instrumental accompaniment that simply did not interfere with the voice, the French always have sought to enrich and beautify what is sung, by the instrumental accompaniment with which they have supported and environed it. In its seriousness of purpose, and in the care with which it strives to preserve the proper balance between the vocal and orchestral portions of the score, French opera shows most clearly its indebtedness to Gluck, and, after him, to Cherubini. It is a beautiful form of operatic art.

In the restricted sense of the repertoire in this country, French grand opera means Meyerbeer, Gounod, Bizet, and Massenet. In fact it is a question if, popularly speaking, we draw the line at all between French and Italian grand opera, since, both being Latin, they are sister arts, and quite distinct from the German school.

Having traced opera in Germany from Gluck to Wagner, and in Italy from Rossini to Verdi, I now turn to opera in France from Meyerbeer and a few predecessors to Bizet.

Méhul to Meyerbeer

Certain early French operas still are in the Continental repertoire, although they may be said to have completely disappeared here. They are of sufficient significance to be referred to in this book.

The pianoforte pupils abroad are few who, in the course of their first years of instruction, fail to receive a potpourri of the three-act opera "Joseph" (Joseph in Egypt), by Étienne Nicholas Méhul (1763-1817). The score is chaste and restrained. The principal air for _Joseph_ (tenor), "À peine au sortir de l'enfance" (Whilst yet in tender childhood), and the prayer for male voice, "Dieu d'Israel" (Oh, God of Israel), are the best-known portions of the score. In constructing the libretto Alexander Duval followed the Biblical story. When the work opens, not only has the sale of _Joseph_ by his brethren taken place, but the young Jew has risen to high office. Rôles, besides _Joseph_, are _Jacob_ (bass), _Siméon_ (baritone) [Transcriber's Note: should be 'tenor'], _Benjamin_ (soprano), _Utobal_, _Joseph's_ confidant (bass). "Joseph en Egypte" was produced at the Théâtre Feydeau, Paris, February 17, 1808.

"Le Calife de Bagdad," "Jean de Paris," and "La Dame Blanche" (The White Lady), by François Adrien Boieldieu (1775-1834), are still known by their graceful overtures. In "La Dame Blanche" the composer has used the song of "Robin Adair," the scene of the opera being laid in Scotland, and drawn by Scribe from Scott's novels, "The Monastery" and "Guy Mannering." _George Brown_ was a favorite rôle with Wachtel. He sang it in this country. The graceful invocation to the white lady was especially well suited to his voice. "La Dame Blanche" was produced at the Opéra Comique, Paris, December 10, 1825.

Boieldieu's music is light and graceful, in perfect French taste, and full of charm. It has the spirit of comedy and no doubt helped develop the comic vein in the lighter scores of Daniel François Esprit Auber (1782-1871). But in his greatest work, "Masaniello," the French title of which is "La Muette de Portici" (The Dumb Girl of Portici), Auber is, musically, a descendant of Méhul. The libretto is by Scribe and Delavigne. The work was produced in Paris, February 29, 1828. It is one of the foundation stones of French grand opera. Eschewing vocal ornament merely as such, and introducing it only when called for by the portrayal of character, the emotion to be expressed, or the situation devised by the librettist, it is largely due to its development from this work of Auber's that French opera has occupied for so long a time the middle ground between Italian opera with its frank supremacy of voice on the one hand, and German opera with its solicitude for instrumental effects on the other.

The story of "Masaniello" is laid in 1647, in and near Naples. It deals with an uprising of the populace led by _Masaniello_. He is inspired thereto both by the wrongs the people have suffered and by his sister _Fenella's_ betrayal by _Alfonso_, Spanish viceroy of Naples. The revolution fails, its leader loses his mind and is killed, and, during an eruption of Vesuvius, _Fenella_ casts herself into the sea. _Fenella_ is dumb. Her rôle is taken by a pantomimist, usually the _prima ballerina_.

Greatly admired by musicians though the score be, "Masaniello's" hold upon the repertory long has been precarious. I doubt if it has been given in this country upon any scale of significance since the earliest days of opera in German at the Metropolitan, when Dr. Leopold Damrosch revived it with Anton Schott in the title rôle. Even then it was difficult to imagine that, when "Masaniello" was played in Brussels, in 1830, the scene of the uprising so excited the people that they drove the Dutch out of Belgium, which had been joined to Holland by the Congress of Vienna. The best-known musical number in the opera is the "Air du Sommeil" (Slumber-song) sung by _Masaniello_ to _Fenella_ in the fourth act.

Auber composed many successful operas in the vein of comedy. His "Fra Diavolo" long was popular. Its libretto by Scribe is amusing, the score sparkling. _Fra Diavolo's_ death can be made a sensational piece of acting, if the tenor knows how to take a fall down the wooden runway among the canvas rocks, over which the dashing bandit--the villain of the piece--is attempting to escape, when shot.

"Fra Diavolo" was given here with considerable frequency at one time. But in a country where opéra comique (in the French sense of the term) has ceased to exist, it has no place. We swing from one extreme to the other--from grand opera, with brilliant accessories, to musical comedy, with all its slap-dash. The sunlit middle road of opéra comique we have ceased to tread.

Two other works, once of considerable popularity, also have disappeared from our stage. The overture to "Zampa," by Louis J.F. Hérold (1791-1833) still is played; the opera no more. It was produced in Paris May 3, 1831. The libretto, by Mélésville, is based on the old tale of "The Statue Bride."

The high tenor rôle of _Chappelou_ in "Le Postillon de Longjumeau," by Adolphe Charles Adam (1802-1856), with its postillion song, "Ho! ho!--Ho! ho!--Postillion of Longjumeau!" was made famous by Theodore Wachtel, who himself was a postillion before his voice was discovered by patrons of his father's stable, with whom he chanced to join in singing quartet. It was he who introduced the rhythmic cracking of the whip in the postillion's song. Wachtel sang the rôle in this country in the season of 1871-72, at the Stadt Theatre, and in 1875-76 at the Academy of Music. Then, having accumulated a fortune, chiefly out of the "Postillon," in which he sang more than 1200 times, he practically retired, accepting no fixed engagements.

During the Metropolitan Opera House season of 1884-85, Dr. Leopold Damrosch revived, in German, "La Juive," a five-act opera by Jacques François Fromental Élie Halévy (1799-1862), the libretto by Scribe. Materna was the Jewess, _Rachel_ (in German _Recha_). I cannot recall any production of the work here since then, and a considerable period had elapsed since its previous performance here. It had its _première_ in Paris, February 23, 1835. Meyerbeer's "Robert le Diable" had been produced in 1831. Nevertheless "La Juive" scored a triumph. But with the production of Meyerbeer's "Les Huguenots," that composer became the operatic idol of the public, and Halévy's star paled, although musicians continued for many years to consider "La Juive" one of the finest opera scores composed in France; and there are many who would be glad to see an occasional revival of this work, as well as of Auber's "Masaniello." The libretto of "La Juive," originally written for Rossini, was rejected by that composer for "William Tell" (see p. 312).

Giacomo Meyerbeer

(1791-1864)

Although he was born in Berlin (September 5, 1791), studied pianoforte and theory in Germany, and attained in that country a reputation as a brilliant pianist, besides producing several operas there, Meyerbeer is regarded as the founder of what generally is understood as modern French grand opera. It has been said of him that "he joined to the flowing melody of the Italians the solid harmony of the Germans, the poignant declamation and varied, piquant rhythm of the French"; which is a good description of the opera that flourishes on the stage of the Académie or Grand Opéra, Paris. The models for elaborate spectacular scenes and finales furnished by Meyerbeer's operas have been followed ever since by French composers; nor have they been ignored by Italians. He understood how to write effectively for the voice, and he was the first composer of opera who made a point of striving for tone colour in the instrumental accompaniment. Sometimes the effect may be too calculated, too cunningly contrived, too obviously sought for. But what he accomplished had decided influence on the enrichment of the instrumental score in operatic composition.

Much criticism has been directed at Meyerbeer, and much of his music has disappeared from the stage. But such also has been the fate of much of the music of other composers earlier than, contemporary with, and later than he. Meyerbeer had the pick of the great artists of his day. His works were written for and produced with brilliant casts, and had better not be sung at all than indifferently. His greatest work, "Les Huguenots," is still capable of leaving a deep impression, when adequately performed.

Meyerbeer, like many other composers for the lyric stage, has suffered much from writers who have failed to approach opera as opera, but have written about it from the standpoint of the symphony, with which it has nothing in common, or have looked down upon it from the lofty heights of the music-drama, from which, save for the fact that both are intended to be sung and acted with scenery on a stage, it differs greatly. Opera is a highly artificial theatrical product, and those who have employed convincingly its sophisticated processes are not lightly to be thrust aside.

Meyerbeer came of a Jewish family. His real name was Jacob Liebmann Beer. He prefixed "Meyer" to his patronymic at the request of a wealthy relative who made him his heir. He was a pupil in pianoforte of Clementi; also studied under Abbé Vogler, being a fellow pupil of C.M. von Weber. His first operas were German. In 1815 he went to Italy and composed a series of operas in the style of Rossini. Going to Paris in 1826, he became "immersed in the study of French opera, from Lully onward." The first result was "Robert le Diable" (Robert the Devil), Grand Opéra, Paris, 1831. This was followed by "Les Huguenots," 1836; "Le Prophète," 1849; "L'Étoile du Nord," Opéra Comique, 1854; "Dinorah, ou le Pardon de Ploërmel" (Dinorah, or the Pardon of Ploërmel), Opéra Comique, 1859. Much of the music of "L'Étoile du Nord" came from an earlier score, "Das Feldlager in Schlesien" (The Camp in Silesia), Berlin, 1843. Meyerbeer died May 2, 1864, in Paris, where his "L'Africaine" was produced at the Grand Opéra in 1865.

ROBERT LE DIABLE

ROBERT THE DEVIL

Opera in five acts, by Meyerbeer; words by Scribe and Delavigne. Produced, Grand Opéra, Paris, November 22, 1831. Drury Lane, London, February 20, 1832, in English, as "The Demon, or the Mystic Branch"; Covent Garden, February 21, 1832, in English, as "The Fiend Father, or Robert of Normandy"; King's Theatre, June 11, 1832, in French; Her Majesty's Theatre, May 4, 1847, in Italian. Park Theatre, New York, April 7, 1834, in English, with Mrs. Wood as _Isabel_ and Wood as _Robert_, the opera being followed by a _pas seul_ by Miss Wheatley, and a farce, "My Uncle John"; Astor Place Opera House, November 3, 1851, with Bettini (_Robert_), Marini (_Bertram_), Bosio (_Isabella_), Steffanone (_Alice_); Academy of Music, November 30, 1857, with Formes as _Bertram_.

CHARACTERS

ALICE, foster-sister of Robert _Soprano_ ISABELLA, Princess of Sicily _Soprano_ THE ABBESS _Dancer_ ROBERT, Duke of Normandy _Tenor_ BERTRAM, the Unknown _Bass_ RAIMBAUT, a minstrel _Tenor_

_Time_--13th Century.

_Place_--Sicily.

The production of "Robert le Diable" in Paris was such a sensational success that it made the fortune of the Grand Opéra. Nourrit was _Robert_, Levasseur, _Bertram_ (the prototype of _Mephistopheles_); the women of the cast were Mlle. Dorus as _Alice_, Mme. Cinti-Damoreau as _Isabella_, and Taglioni, the famous danseuse, as the _Abbess_. Jenny Lind made her début in London as _Alice_, in the Italian production of the work. In New York Carl Formes was heard as _Bertram_ at the Astor Place Theatre, November 30, 1857.

Whatever criticism may now be directed against "Robert le Diable," it was a remarkable creation for its day. Meyerbeer's score not only saved the libretto, in which the grotesque is carried to the point of absurdity, but actually made a brilliant success of the production as a whole.

The story is legendary. _Robert_ is the son of the arch-fiend by a human woman. _Robert's_ father, known as _Bertram_, but really the devil, ever follows him about, and seeks to lure him to destruction. The strain of purity in the drama is supplied by _Robert's_ foster-sister, _Alice_, who, if _Bertram_ is the prototype of _Mephistopheles_ in "Faust," may be regarded as the original of _Michaela_ in "Carmen."

_Robert_, because of his evil deeds (inspired by _Bertram_), has been banished from Normandy, and has come to Sicily. He has fallen in love with _Isabella_, she with him. He is to attend a tournament at which she is to award the prizes. Tempted by _Bertram_, he gambles and loses all his possessions, including even his armour. These facts are disclosed in the first act. This contains a song by _Raimbaut_, the minstrel, in which he tells of Robert's misdeeds, but is saved from the latter's fury by _Alice_, who is betrothed to _Raimbaut_, and who, in an expressive air, pleads vainly with _Robert_ to mend his ways and especially to avoid _Bertram_, from whom she instinctively shrinks. In the second act _Robert_ and _Isabella_ meet in the palace. She bestows upon him a suit of armour to wear in the tournament. But, misled by _Bertram_, he seeks his rival elsewhere than in the lists, and, by his failure to appear there, loses his honour as a knight. In the next act, laid in the cavern of St. Irene, occurs an orgy of evil spirits, to whose number _Bertram_ promises to add _Robert_. Next comes a scene that verges upon the grotesque, but which is converted by Meyerbeer's genius into something highly fantastic. This is in the ruined convent of St. Rosalie. _Bertram_ summons from their graves the nuns who, in life, were unfaithful to their vows. The fiend has promised _Robert_ that if he will but seize a mystic cypress branch from over the grave of St. Rosalie, and bear it away, whatever he wishes for will become his. The ghostly nuns, led by their _Abbess_, dance about him. They seek to inveigle him with gambling, drink, and love, until, dazed by their enticements, he seizes the branch. Besides the ballet of the nuns, there are two duets for _Robert_ and _Bertram_--"Du rendezvous" (Our meeting place), and "Le bonheur est dans l'inconstance" (Our pleasure lies in constant change).

The first use _Robert_ makes of the branch is to effect entrance into _Isabella's_ chamber. He threatens to seize her and bear her away, but yields to her entreaties, breaks the branch, and destroys the spell. In this act--the fourth--occurs the famous air for _Isabella_, "Robert, toi que j'aime" (Robert, whom I love).

Once more _Bertram_ seeks to make with _Robert_ a compact, the price for which shall be paid with his soul. But _Alice_, by repeating to him the last warning words of his mother, delays the signing of the compact until the clock strikes twelve. The spell is broken. _Bertram_ disappears. The cathedral doors swing open disclosing _Isabella_, who, in her bridal robes, awaits _Robert_. The finale contains a trio for _Alice_, _Robert_, and _Bertram_, which is considered one of Meyerbeer's finest inspirations.

LES HUGUENOTS

THE HUGUENOTS

Opera in five acts; music by Meyerbeer, words by Scribe and Deschamps. Produced, Grand Opéra, Paris, February 29, 1836. New York, Astor Place Opera House, June 24, 1850, with Salvi (_Raoul_), Coletti (_de Nevers_), Setti (_St. Bris_), Marini (_Marcel_), Signorina Bosio (_Marguerite_), Steffanone (_Valentine_), Vietti (Urbain); Academy of Music, March 8, 1858, with La Grange and Formes; April 30, 1872, Parepa-Rosa, Wachtel, and Santley (_St. Bris_): Academy of Music, 1873, with Nilsson, Cary, Del Puente, and Campanini; Metropolitan Opera House, beginning 1901, with Melba or Sembrich as _Marguerite de Valois_, Nordica (_Valentine_), Jean de Reszke (_Raoul_), Édouard de Reszke (_Marcel_), Plançon (_St. Bris_), Maurel (_de Nevers_), and Mantelli (_Urbain_) (performances known as "the nights of the seven stars"); Metropolitan Opera House, 1914, with Caruso, Destinn, Hempel, Matzenauer, Braun, and Scotti. The first performance in America occurred April 29, 1839, in New Orleans.

CHARACTERS

VALENTINE, daughter of St. Bris _Soprano_ MARGUERITE DE VALOIS, betrothed to Henry IV., of Navarre _Soprano_ URBAIN, page to Marguerite _Mezzo-Soprano_ COUNT DE ST. BRIS } Catholic noblemen { _Baritone_ COUNT DE NEVERS } { _Baritone_ COSSE _Tenor_ MÉRU } { _Baritone_ THORE } Catholic gentlemen { _Baritone_ TAVANNES } { _Tenor_ DE RETZ _Baritone_ RAOUL DE NANGIS, a Huguenot nobleman _Tenor_ MARCEL, a Huguenot soldier, servant to Raoul _Bass_

Catholic and Huguenot ladies, and gentlemen of the court; soldiers, pages, citizens, and populace; night watch, monks, and students.

_Place_--Touraine and Paris.

_Time_--August, 1572.

It has been said that, because Meyerbeer was a Jew, he chose for two of his operas, "Les Huguenots" and "Le Prophète," subjects dealing with bloody uprisings due to religious differences among Christians. "Les Huguenots" is written around the massacre of the Huguenots by the Catholics, on the night of St. Bartholomew's, Paris, August 24, 1572; "Le Prophète" around the seizure and occupation of Münster, in 1555, by the Anabaptists, led by John of Leyden. Even the ballet of the spectral nuns, in "Robert le Diable," has been suggested as due to Meyerbeer's racial origin and a tendency covertly to attack the Christian religion. Far-fetched, I think. Most likely his famous librettist was chiefly responsible for choice of subjects and Meyerbeer accepted them because of the effective manner in which they were worked out. Even so, he was not wholly satisfied with Scribe's libretto of "Les Huguenots." He had the scene of the benediction of the swords enlarged, and it was upon his insistence that Deschamps wrote in the love duet in Act IV. As it stands, the story has been handled with keen appreciation of its dramatic possibilities.

## Act I. Touraine. _Count de Nevers_, one of the leaders of the Catholic

party, has invited friends to a banquet at his château. Among these is _Raoul de Nangis_, a Huguenot. He is accompanied by an old retainer, the Huguenot soldier, _Marcel_. In the course of the fête it is proposed that everyone shall toast his love in a song. _Raoul_ is the first to be called upon. The name of the beauty whom he pledges in his toast is unknown to him. He had come to her assistance while she was being molested by a party of students. She thanked him most graciously. He lives in the hope of meeting her again.

_Marcel_ is a fanatic Huguenot. Having followed his master to the banquet, he finds him surrounded by leaders of the party belonging to the opposite faith. He fears for the consequences. In strange contrast to the glamour and gaiety of the festive proceedings, he intones Luther's hymn, "A Stronghold Sure." The noblemen of the Catholic party instead of becoming angry are amused. _Marcel_ repays their levity by singing a fierce Huguenot battle song. That also amuses them.

At this point the _Count de Nevers_ is informed that a lady is in the garden and wishes to speak with him. He leaves his guests who, through an open window, watch the meeting. _Raoul_, to his surprise and consternation, recognizes in the lady none other than the fair creature whom he saved from the molestations of the students and with whom he has fallen in love. Naturally, however, from the circumstances of her meeting with _de Nevers_ he cannot but conclude that a liaison exists between them.

_De Nevers_ returns, rejoins his guests. _Urbain_, the page of _Queen Marguerite de Valois_, enters. He is in search of _Raoul_, having come to conduct him to a meeting with a gracious and noble lady whose name, however, is not disclosed. _Raoul's_ eyes having been bandaged, he is conducted to a carriage and departs with _Urbain_, wondering what his next adventure will be.

## Act II. In the Garden of Chenonçeaux, _Queen Marguerite de Valois_

receives _Valentine_, daughter of the _Count de St. Bris_. The _Queen_ knows of her rescue from the students by _Raoul_. Desiring to put an end to the differences between Huguenots and Catholics, which have already led to bloodshed, she has conceived the idea of uniting _Valentine_, daughter of one of the great Catholic leaders, to _Raoul_. _Valentine_, however, was already pledged to _de Nevers_. It was at the _Queen's_ suggestion that she visited _de Nevers_ and had him summoned from the banquet in order to ask him to release her from her engagement to him--a request which, however reluctantly, he granted.

Here, in the Gardens of Chenonçeaux, _Valentine_ and _Raoul_ are, according to the Queen's plan, to meet again, but she intends first to receive him alone. He is brought in, the bandage is removed from his eyes, he does homage to the _Queen_, and when, in the presence of the leaders of the Catholic party, _Marguerite de Valois_ explains her purpose and her plan through this union of two great houses to end the religious differences which have disturbed her reign, all consent.

_Valentine_ is led in. _Raoul_ at once recognizes her as the woman of his adventure but also, alas, as the woman whom _de Nevers_ met in the garden during the banquet. Believing her to be unchaste, he refuses her hand. General consternation. _St. Bris_, his followers, all draw their swords. _Raoul's_ flashes from its sheath. Only the _Queen's_ intervention prevents bloodshed.

## Act III. The scene is an open place in Paris before a chapel, where

_de Nevers_, who has renewed his engagement with _Valentine_, is to take her in marriage. The nuptial cortège enters the building. The populace is restless, excited. Religious differences still are the cause of enmity. The presence of Royalist and Huguenot soldiers adds to the restlessness of the people. _De Nevers_, _St. Bris_, and another Catholic nobleman, _Maurevert_, come out from the chapel, where _Valentine_ has desired to linger in prayer. The men are still incensed over what appears to them the shameful conduct of _Raoul_ toward _Valentine_. _Marcel_ at that moment delivers to _St. Bris_ a challenge from _Raoul_ to fight a duel. When the old Huguenot soldier has retired, the noblemen conspire together to lead _Raoul_ into an ambush. During the duel, followers of _St. Bris_, who have been placed in hiding, are suddenly to issue forth and murder the young Huguenot nobleman.

From a position in the vestibule of the chapel, _Valentine_ has overheard the plot. She still loves _Raoul_ and him alone. How shall she warn him of the certain death in store for him? She sees _Marcel_ and counsels him that his master must not come here to fight the duel unless he is accompanied by a strong guard. As a result, when _Raoul_ and his antagonist meet, and _St. Bris's_ soldiers are about to attack the Huguenot, _Marcel_ summons the latter's followers from a nearby inn. A street fight between the two bodies of soldiers is imminent, when the _Queen_ and her suite enter. A gaily bedecked barge comes up the river and lays to at the bank. It bears _de Nevers_ and his friends. He has come to convey his bride from the chapel to his home. And now _Raoul_ learns, from the Queen, and to his great grief, that he has refused the hand of the woman who loved him and who had gone to _de Nevers_ in order to ask him to release her from her engagement with him.

## Act IV. _Raoul_ seeks _Valentine_, who has become the wife of _de

Nevers_, in her home. He wishes to be assured of the truth of what he has heard from the _Queen_. During their meeting footsteps are heard approaching and _Valentine_ barely has time to hide _Raoul_ in an adjoining room when _de Nevers_, _St. Bris_, and other noblemen of the Catholic party enter, and form a plan to be carried out that very night--the night of St. Bartholomew--to massacre the Huguenots. Only _de Nevers_ refuses to take part in the conspiracy. Rather than do so, he yields his sword to _St. Bris_ and is led away a prisoner. The priests bless the swords, _St. Bris_ and his followers swear loyalty to the bloody cause in which they are enlisted, and depart to await the order to put it into effect, the tolling of the great bell from St. Germain.

_Raoul_ comes out from his place of concealment. His one thought is to hurry away and notify his brethren of their peril. _Valentine_ seeks to detain him, entreats him not to go, since it will be to certain death. As the greatest and final argument to him to remain, she proclaims that she loves him. But already the deep-voiced bell tolls the signal. Flames, blood-red, flare through the windows. Nothing can restrain _Raoul_ from doing his duty. _Valentine_ stands before the closed door to block his egress. Rushing to a casement, he throws back the window and leaps to the street.

## Act V. Covered with blood, _Raoul_ rushes into the ballroom of the

Hôtel de Nesle, where the Huguenot leaders, ignorant of the massacre that has begun, are assembled, and summons them to battle. Already Coligny, their great commander, has fallen. Their followers are being massacred.

[Illustration: Copyright photo by A. Dupont

Plançon as Saint Bris in "The Huguenots"]

[Illustration: Copyright photo by Dupont

Jean de Reszke as Raoul in "The Huguenots"]

The scene changes to a Huguenot churchyard, where _Raoul_ and _Marcel_ have found temporary refuge. _Valentine_ hurries in. She wishes to save _Raoul_. She adjures him to adopt her faith. _De Nevers_ has met a noble death and she is free--free to marry _Raoul_. But he refuses to marry her at the sacrifice of his religion. Now she decides that she will die with him and that they will both die as Huguenots and united. _Marcel_ blesses them. The enemy has stormed the churchyard and begins the massacre of those who have sought safety there and in the edifice itself. Again the scene changes, this time to a square in Paris. _Raoul_, who has been severely wounded, is supported by _Marcel_ and _Valentine_. _St. Bris_ and his followers approach. In answer to _St. Bris's_ summons, "Who goes there?" _Raoul_, calling to his aid all the strength he has left, cries out, "Huguenots." There is a volley. _Raoul_, _Valentine_, _Marcel_ lie dead on the ground. Too late _St. Bris_ discovers that he has been the murderer of his own daughter.

Originally in five acts, the version of "Les Huguenots" usually performed contains but three. The first two acts are drawn into one by converting the second act into a scene and adding it to the first. The fifth act (or in the usual version the fourth) is nearly always omitted. This is due to the length of the opera. The audience takes it for granted that, when _Raoul_ leaves _Valentine_, he goes to his death. I have seen a performance of "Les Huguenots" with the last act. So far as an understanding of the work is concerned, it is unnecessary. It also involves as much noise and smell of gunpowder as Massenet's opera, "La Navarraise"--and that is saying a good deal.

The performances of "Les Huguenots," during the most brilliant revivals of that work at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, under Maurice Grau, were known as "les nuits de sept étoiles" (the nights of the seven stars). The cast to which the performances owed this designation is given in the summary above. A manager, in order to put "Les Huguenots" satisfactorily upon the stage, should be able to give it with seven first-rate principals, trained as nearly as possible in the same school of opera. The work should be sung preferably in French and by singers who know something of the traditions of the Grand Opéra, Paris. Mixed casts of Latin and Teutonic singers mar a performance of this work. If "Les Huguenots" appears to have fallen off in popularity since "the nights of the seven stars," I am inclined to attribute this to inability or failure to give the opera with a cast either as fine or as homogeneous as that which flourished at the Metropolitan during the era of "les nuits de sept étoiles," when there not only were seven stars on the stage, but also seven dollars in the box office for every orchestra stall that was occupied--and they all were.

Auber's "Masaniello," Rossini's "William Tell," Halévy's "La Juive," and Meyerbeer's own "Robert le Diable" practically having dropped out of the repertoire in this country, "Les Huguenots," composed in 1836, is the earliest opera in the French grand manner that maintains itself on the lyric stage of America--the first example of a school of music which, through the "Faust" of Gounod, the "Carmen" of Bizet, and the works of Massenet, has continued to claim our attention.

After a brief overture, in which Luther's hymn is prominent, the first act opens with a sonorous chorus for the banqueters in the salon of _de Nevers's_ castle. _Raoul_, called upon to propose in song a toast to a lady, pledges the unknown beauty, whom he rescued from the insolence of a band of students. He does this in the romance, "Plus blanche que la plus blanche hermine" (Whiter than the whitest ermine). The accompaniment to the melodious measures, with which the romance opens, is supplied by a viola solo, the effective employment of which in this passage shows Meyerbeer's knowledge of the instrument and its possibilities. This romance is a perfect example of a certain phase of Meyerbeer's art--a suave and elegant melody for voice, accompanied in a highly original manner, part of the time, in this instance, by a single instrument in the orchestra, which, however, in spite of its effectiveness, leaves an impression of simplicity not wholly uncalculated.

_Raoul's_ romance is followed by the entrance of _Marcel_, and the scene for that bluff, sturdy old Huguenot campaigner and loyal servant of _Raoul_, a splendidly drawn character, dramatically and musically. _Marcel_ tries to drown the festive sounds by intoning the stern phrases of Luther's hymn. This he follows with the Huguenot battle song, with its "Piff, piff, piff," which has been rendered famous by the great bassos who have sung it, including, in this country, Formes and Édouard de Reszke.

_De Nevers_ then is called away to his interview with the lady, whom _Raoul_ recognizes as the unknown beauty rescued by him from the students, and whom, from the circumstances of her visit to _de Nevers_, he cannot but believe to be engaged in a liaison with the latter. Almost immediately upon _de Nevers's_ rejoining his guests there enters _Urbain_, the page of _Marguerite de Valois_. He greets the assembly with the brilliant recitative, "Nobles Seigneurs salut!" This is followed by a charming cavatina, "Une dame noble et sage" (A wise and noble lady). Originally this was a soprano number, _Urbain_ having been composed as a soprano rôle, which it remained for twelve years. Then, in 1844, when "Les Huguenots" was produced in London, with Alboni as _Urbain_, Meyerbeer transposed it, and a contralto, or mezzo-soprano, part it has remained ever since, its interpreters in this country having included Annie Louise Cary, Trebelli, Scalchi, and Homer. The theme of "Une dame noble et sage" is as follows:

[Transcriber's Note: Music apparently missing from original.]

The letter brought by _Urbain_ is recognized by the Catholic noblemen as being in the handwriting of _Marguerite de Valois_. As it is addressed to _Raoul_, they show by their obsequious demeanour toward him the importance they attach to the invitation. In accordance with its terms _Raoul_ allows himself to be blindfolded and led away by _Urbain_.

Following the original score and regarding what is now the second scene of Act I as the second act, this opens with _Marguerite de Valois's_ apostrophe to the fair land of Touraine (Ô beau pays de la Touraine), which, with the air immediately following, "À ce mot tout s'anime et renaît la nature" (At this word everything revives and Nature renews itself),

[Music]

constitutes an animated and brilliant scene for coloratura soprano.

There is a brief colloquy between _Marguerite_ and _Valentine_, then the graceful female chorus, sung on the bank of the Seine and known as the "bathers' chorus," this being followed by the entrance of _Urbain_ and his engaging song--the rondeau composed for Alboni--"Non!--non, non, non, non, non! Vous n'avez jamais, je gage" (No!--no, no, no, no, no! You have never heard, I wager).

_Raoul_ enters, the bandage is removed from his eyes, and there follows a duet, "Beauté divine, enchanteresse" (Beauty brightly divine, enchantress), between him and _Marguerite_, all graciousness on her side and courtly admiration on his. The nobles and their followers come upon the scene. _Marguerite de Valois's_ plan to end the religious strife that has distracted the realm meets with their approbation. The finale of the act begins with the swelling chorus in which they take oath to abide by it. There is the brief episode in which _Valentine_ is led in by _St. Bris_, presented to _Raoul_, and indignantly spurned by him. The act closes with a turbulent ensemble. Strife and bloodshed, then and there, are averted only by the interposition of _Marguerite_.

## Act III opens with the famous chorus of the Huguenot soldiers in

which, while they imitate with their hands the beating of drums, they sing their spirited "Rataplan." By contrast, the Catholic maidens, who accompany the bridal cortège of _Valentine_ and _de Nevers_ to the chapel, intone a litany, while Catholic citizens, students, and women protest against the song of the Huguenot soldiers. These several choral elements are skilfully worked out in the score. _Marcel_, coming upon the scene, manages to have _St. Bris_ summoned from the chapel, and presents _Raoul's_ challenge to a duel. The Catholics form their plot to assassinate _Raoul_, of which _Valentine_ finds opportunity to notify _Marcel_, in what is one of the striking scenes of the opera. The duel scene is preceded by a stirring septette, a really great passage, "En mon bon droit j'ai confiance" (On my good cause relying). The music, when the ambuscade is uncovered and _Marcel_ summons the Huguenots to _Raoul's_ aid, and a street combat is threatened, reaches an effective climax in a double chorus. The excitement subsides with the arrival of _Marguerite de Valois_, and of the barge containing _de Nevers_ and his retinue. A brilliant chorus, supported by the orchestra and by a military band on the stage, with ballet to add to the spectacle forms the finale, as _de Nevers_ conducts _Valentine_ to the barge, and is followed on board by _St. Bris_ and the nuptial cortège.

The fourth act, in the home of _de Nevers_, opens with a romance for _Valentine_, "Parmi les pleurs mon rêve se ranime" (Amid my tears, by dreams once more o'ertaken), which is followed by a brief scene between her and _Raoul_, whom the approach of the conspirators quickly obliges her to hide in an adjoining apartment. The scene of the consecration of the swords is one of the greatest in opera; but that it shall have its full effect _St. Bris_ must be an artist like Plançon, who, besides being endowed with a powerful and beautifully managed voice, was superb in appearance and as _St. Bris_ had the bearing of the dignified, commanding yet fanatic nobleman of old France. Musically and dramatically the scene rests on _St. Bris's_ shoulders, and broad they must be, since his is the most conspicuous

## part in song and action, from the intonation of his solo, "Pour cette

cause sainte, obéisses sans crainte" (With sacred zeal and ardor let now your soul be burning),

[Music]

to the end of the savage _stretta_, when, the conspirators, having tiptoed almost to the door, in order to disperse for their mission, suddenly turn, once more uplift sword hilts, poignards, and crucifixes, and, after a frenzied adjuration of loyalty to a cause that demands the massacre of an unsuspecting foe, steal forth into the shades of fateful night.

Powerful as this scene is, Meyerbeer has made the love duet which follows even more gripping. For now he interprets the conflicting emotions of love and loyalty in two hearts. It begins with _Raoul's_ exclamation, "Le danger presse et le temps vole, laisse-moi partir" (Danger presses and time flies. Let me depart), and reaches its climax in a _cantilena_ of supreme beauty, "Tu l'as dit, oui tu m'aimes" (Thou hast said it; aye, thou lov'st me),

[Music]

which is broken in upon by the sinister tolling of a distant bell--the signal for the massacre to begin. An air for _Valentine_, an impassioned _stretta_ for the lovers, _Raoul's_ leap from the window, followed by a discharge of musketry, from which, in the curtailed version, he is supposed to meet his death, and this act, still an amazing achievement in opera, is at an end.

In the fifth act, there is the fine scene of the blessing by _Marcel_ of _Raoul_ and _Valentine_, during which strains of Luther's hymn are heard, intoned by Huguenots, who have crowded into their church for a last refuge.

"Les Huguenots" has been the subject of violent attacks, beginning with Robert Schumann's essay indited as far back as 1837, and starting off with the assertion, "I feel today like the young warrior who draws his sword for the first time in a holy cause." Schumann's most

## particular "holy cause" was, in this instance, to praise Mendelssohn's

oratorio, "St. Paul," at the expense of Meyerbeer's opera "Les Huguenots," notwithstanding the utter dissimilarity of purpose in the two works. On the other hand Hanslick remarks that a person who cannot appreciate the dramatic power of this Meyerbeer opera, must be lacking in certain elements of the critical faculty. Even Wagner, one of Meyerbeer's bitterest detractors, found words of the highest praise for the passage from the love duet, which is quoted immediately above. The composer of "The Ring of the Nibelung" had a much broader outlook upon the world than Schumann, in whose genius there was, after all, a good deal of the _bourgeois_.

Pro or con, when "Les Huguenots" is sung with a fully adequate cast, it cannot fail of making a deep impression--as witness "les nuits de sept étoiles."

A typical night of the seven stars at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, was that of December 26, 1894. The _sept étoiles_ were Nordica (_Valentine_), Scalchi (_Urbain_), Melba (_Marguerite de Valois_), Jean de Reszke (_Raoul_), Plançon (_St. Bris_), Maurel (_de Nevers_), and Édouard de Reszke (_Marcel_). Two Academy of Music casts are worth referring to. April 30, 1872, Parepa-Rosa, for her last appearance in America, sang _Valentine_. Wachtel was _Raoul_ and Santley _St. Bris_. The other Academy cast was a "Night of six stars," and is noteworthy as including Maurel twenty years, almost to the night, before he appeared in the Metropolitan cast. The date was December 24, 1874. Nilsson was _Valentine_, Cary _Urbain_, Maresi _Marguerite de Valois_, Campanini _Raoul_, Del Puente _St. Bris_, Maurel _de Nevers_, and Nannetti _Marcel_. With a more distinguished _Marguerite de Valois_, this performance would have anticipated the "nuits de sept étoiles."

LE PROPHÈTE

THE PROPHET

Opera in five acts, by Meyerbeer; words by Scribe. Produced, Grand Opéra, Paris, April 6, 1849. London, Covent Garden, July 24, 1849, with Mario, Viardot-Garcia, Miss Hayes, and Tagliafico. New Orleans, April 2, 1850. New York, Niblo's Garden, November 25, 1853, with Salvi (_John of Leyden_), Steffanone and Mme. Maretzek. Revived in German, Metropolitan Opera House, by Dr. Leopold Damrosch, December 17, 1884, with Anton Schott as _John of Leyden_, Marianne Brandt as _Fides_ and Schroeder-Hanfstaengl as _Bertha_. It was given ten times during the season, in which it was equalled only by "Tannhäuser" and "Lohengrin." Also, Metropolitan Opera House, 1898-99, with Jean de Reszke, Brema (_Fides_), Lehmann (_Bertha_); January 22, 1900, Alvarez, Schumann-Heink, Suzanne Adams, Plançon and Édouard de Reszke; by Gatti-Casazza, February 7, 1918, with Caruso, Matzenauer, Muzio, Didur, and Mardones.

CHARACTERS

JOHN OF LEYDEN _Tenor_ FIDES, his mother _Mezzo-Soprano_ BERTHA, his bride _Soprano_ JONAS } { _Tenor_ MATTHISEN } Anabaptists { _Bass_ ZACHARIAS } { _Bass_ COUNT OBERTHAL _Baritone_

Nobles, citizens, Anabaptists, peasants, soldiers, prisoners, children.

_Time_--1534-35.

_Place_--Dordrecht, Holland, and Münster.

## Act I. At the foot of _Count Oberthal's_ castle, near Dordrecht,

Holland, peasants and mill hands are assembled. _Bertha_ and _Fides_ draw near. The latter is bringing to _Bertha_ a betrothal ring from her son _John_, who is to marry her on the morrow. But permission must first be obtained from _Count Oberthal_ as lord of the domain. The women are here to seek it.

There arrive three sombre looking men, who strive to rouse the people to revolt against tyranny. They are the Anabaptists, _Jonas_, _Matthisen_, and _Zacharias_. The _Count_, however, who chances to come out of the castle with his followers, recognizes in _Jonas_ a steward who was discharged from his employ. He orders his soldiers to beat the three men with the flat of their swords. _John's_ mother and _Bertha_ make their plea to _Oberthal_. _John_ and _Bertha_ have loved ever since he rescued her from drowning in the Meuse. Admiring _Bertha's_ beauty, _Oberthal_ refuses to give permission for her to marry _John_, but, instead, orders her seized and borne to the castle for his own diversion. The people are greatly agitated and, when the three Anabaptists reappear, throw themselves at their feet, and on rising make threatening gestures toward the castle.

## Act II. In _John's_ inn at Leyden are the three Anabaptists and a

throng of merry-making peasants. Full of longing for _Bertha_, _John_ is thinking of the morrow. The Anabaptists discover that he bears a remarkable resemblance to the picture of King David in the Cathedral of Münster. They believe this resemblance can be made of service to their plans. _John_ tells them of a strange dream he has had, and in which he found himself standing under the dome of a temple with people prostrate before him. They interpret it for him as evidence that he will mount a throne, and urge him to follow them. But for him there is but one throne--that of the kingdom of love with _Bertha_.

At that moment, however, she rushes in and begs him quickly to hide her. She has escaped from _Oberthal_, who is in pursuit. _Oberthal_ and his soldiers enter. The _Count_ threatens that if _John_ does not deliver over _Bertha_ to him, his mother, whom the soldiers have captured on the way to the inn, shall die. She is brought in and forced to her knees. A soldier with a battle-axe stands over her. After a brief struggle _John's_ love for his mother conquers. He hands over _Bertha_ to _Oberthal_. She is led away. _Fides_ is released.

The three Anabaptists return. Now _John_ is ready to join them, if only to wreak vengeance on _Oberthal_. They insist that he come at once, without even saying farewell to his mother, who must be kept in ignorance of their plans. John consents and hurries off with them.

## Act III. In the winter camp of the Anabaptists in a forest of

Westphalia, before Münster. On a frozen lake people are skating. The people have risen against their oppressors. _John_ has been proclaimed a prophet of God. At the head of the Anabaptists he is besieging Münster.

The act develops in three scenes. The first reveals the psychological medley of fanaticism and sensuality of the Anabaptists and their followers. In the second _John_ enters. _Oberthal_ is delivered into his hands. From him _John_ learns that _Bertha_ again has escaped from the castle and is in Münster. The three Anabaptist leaders wish to put the _Count_ to death. But _John_, saying that _Bertha_ shall be his judge, puts off the execution, much to the disgust of the three fanatics, who find _John_ assuming more authority than is agreeable to them. This scene, the second of the act, takes place in _Zachariah's_ tent. The third scene shows again the camp of the Anabaptists. The leaders, fearing _John's_ usurpation of power, have themselves headed an attack by their followers on Münster and met with defeat. The rabble they have led is furious and ready to turn even against _John_. He, however, by sheer force of personality coupled with his assumption of superhuman inspiration, rallies the crowd to his standard, and leads it to victory.

## Act IV. A public place in Münster. The city is in possession of the

Anabaptists. _John_, once a plain innkeeper of Leyden, has been swept along on the high tide of success and decides to have himself proclaimed Emperor. Meanwhile _Fides_ has been reduced to beggary. The Anabaptists, in order to make her believe that _John_ is dead--so as to reduce to a minimum the chance of her suspecting that the new _Prophet_ and her son are one and the same--left in the inn a bundle of _John's_ clothes stained with blood, together with a script stating that he had been murdered by the _Prophet_ and his followers.

The poor woman has come to Münster to beg. There she meets _Bertha_, who, when _Fides_ tells her that _John_ has been murdered, vows vengeance upon the _Prophet_.

_Fides_ follows the crowd into the cathedral, to which the scene changes. When, during the coronation scene, _John_ speaks, and announces that he is the elect of God, the poor beggar woman starts at the sound of his voice. She cries out, "My son!" _John's_ cause is thus threatened and his life at stake. He has claimed divine origin. If the woman is his mother, the people, whom he rules with an iron hand, will denounce and kill him. With quick wit he meets the emergency, and even makes use of it to enhance his authority by improvising an affirmation scene. He bids his followers draw their swords and thrust them into his breast, if the beggar woman again affirms that he is her son. Seeing the swords held ready to pierce him, _Fides_, in order to save him, now declares that he is not her son--that her eyes, dimmed by age, have deceived her.

## Act V. The three Anabaptists, _Jonas_, _Matthisen_, and _Zacharias_,

had intended to use _John_ only as an instrument to attain power for themselves. The German Emperor, who is moving on Münster with a large force, has promised them pardon if they will betray the _Prophet_ and usurper into his hands. To this they have agreed, and are ready on his coronation day to betray him.

At _John's_ secret command _Fides_ has been brought to the palace. Here her son meets her. He, whom she has seen in the hour of his triumph and who still is all-powerful, implores her pardon, but in vain, until she, in the belief that he has been impelled to his usurpation of power and bloody deeds only by thirst for vengeance for _Bertha's_ wrongs, forgives him, on condition that he return to Leyden. This he promises in full repentance.

They are joined by _Bertha_. She has sworn to kill the _Prophet_ whom she blames for the supposed murder of her lover. To accomplish her purpose, she has set a slow fire to the palace. It will blaze up near the powder magazine, when the _Prophet_ and his henchmen are at banquet in the great hall of the palace, and blow up the edifice.

She recognizes her lover. Her joy, however, is short-lived, for at the moment a captain comes to _John_ with the announcement that he has been betrayed and that the Emperor's forces are at the palace gates. Thus _Bertha_ learns that her lover and the bloodstained _Prophet_ are one. Horrified, she plunges a dagger into her heart.

_John_ determines to die, a victim to the catastrophe which _Bertha_ has planned, and which is impending. He joins the banqueters at their orgy. At the moment when all his open and secret enemies are at the table and pledge him in a riotous bacchanale, smoke rises from the floor. Tongues of fire shoot up. _Fides_, in the general uproar and confusion, calmly joins her son, to die with him, as the powder magazine blows up, and, with a fearful crash the edifice collapses in smoke and flame.

_John of Leyden's_ name was Jan Beuckelszoon. He was born in 1509. In business he was successively a tailor, a small merchant, and an innkeeper. After he had had himself crowned in Münster, that city became a scene of orgy and cruelty. It was captured by the imperial forces June 24, 1535. The following January the "prophet" was put to death by torture. The same fate was meted out to Knipperdölling, his henchman, who had conveniently rid him of one of his wives by cutting off her head.

* * * * *

The music of the first act of "Le Prophète" contains a cheerful chorus for peasants, a cavatina for _Bertha_, "Mon coeur s'élance" (My heart throbs wildly), in which she voices her joy over her expected union with _John_; the Latin chant of the three Anabaptists, gloomy yet stirring; the music of the brief revolt of the peasantry against _Oberthal_; the plea of _Fides_ and _Bertha_ to _Oberthal_ for his sanction of _Bertha's_ marriage to _John_, "Un jour, dans les flots de la Meuse" (One day in the waves of the Meuse); _Oberthal's_ refusal, and his abduction of _Bertha_; the reappearance of the three Anabaptists and the renewal of their efforts to impress the people with a sense of the tyranny by which they are oppressed.

Opening the second act, in _John's_ tavern, in the suburbs of Leyden, are the chorus and dance of _John's_ friends, who are rejoicing over his prospective wedding. When the three Anabaptists have recognized his resemblance to the picture of David in the cathedral at Münster, _John_, observing their sombre yet impressive bearing, tells them of his dream, and asks them to interpret it: "Sous les vastes arceaux d'un temple magnifique" (Under the great dome of a splendid temple). They promise him a throne. But he knows a sweeter empire than the one they promise, that which will be created by his coming union with _Bertha_. Her arrival in flight from _Oberthal_ and _John's_ sacrifice of her in order to save his mother from death, lead to _Fides's_ solo, "Ah, mon fils" (Ah, my son), one of the great airs for mezzo-soprano.

[Music]

Most attractive in the next act is the ballet of the skaters on the frozen lake near the camp of the Anabaptists. The scene is brilliant in conception, the music delightfully rhythmic and graceful. There is a stirring battle song for _Zacharias_, in which he sings of the enemy "as numerous as the stars," yet defeated. Another striking number is the fantastic trio for _Jonas_, _Zacharias_, and _Oberthal_, especially in the descriptive passage in which in rhythm with the music, _Jonas_ strikes flint and steel, ignites a lantern and by its light recognizes _Oberthal_. When _John_ rallies the Anabaptists, who have been driven back from under the walls of Münster and promises to lead them to victory, the act reaches a superb climax in a "Hymne Triomphal" for _John_ and chorus, "Roi du Ciel et des Anges" (Ruler of Heaven and the Angels). At the most stirring moment of this finale, as _John_ is being acclaimed by his followers, mists that have been hanging over the lake are dispelled. The sun bursts forth in glory.

[Music]

In the next act there is a scene for _Fides_ in the streets of Münster, in which, reduced to penury, she begs for alms. There also is the scene at the meeting of _Fides_ and _Bertha_. The latter believing, like _Fides_, that _John_ has been slain by the Anabaptists, vows vengeance upon the _Prophet_.

The great procession in the cathedral with its march and chorus has been, since the production of "Le Prophète" in 1849, a model of construction for striking spectacular scenes in opera. The march is famous. Highly dramatic is the scene in which _Fides_ first proclaims and then denies that John is her son. The climax of the fifth act is the drinking song, "Versez, que tout respire l'ivresse et le délire" (Quaff, quaff, in joyous measure; breathe, breathe delirious pleasure), in the midst of which the building is blown up, and _John_ perishes with those who would betray him.

* * * * *

During the season of opera which Dr. Leopold Damrosch conducted at the Metropolitan Opera House, 1884-85, when this work of Meyerbeer's led the repertoire in number of performances, the stage management produced a fine effect in the scene at the end of Act III, when the _Prophet_ rallies his followers. Instead of soldiers tamely marching past, as _John_ chanted his battle hymn, he was acclaimed by a rabble, wrought up to a high pitch of excitement, and brandishing cudgels, scythes, pitchforks, and other implements that would serve as weapons. The following season, another stage manager, wishing to outdo his predecessor, brought with him an electric sun from Germany, a horrid thing that almost blinded the audience when it was turned on.

L'AFRICAINE

THE AFRICAN

Opera in five acts, by Meyerbeer; words by Scribe. Produced Grand Opéra, Paris, April 28, 1865. London, in Italian, Covent Garden, July 22, 1865; in English, Covent Garden, October 21, 1865. New York, Academy of Music, December 1, 1865, with Mazzoleni as _Vasco_, and Zucchi as _Selika_; September 30, 1872, with Lucca as _Selika_; Metropolitan Opera House, January 15, 1892, Nordica (_Selika_), Pettigiani (_Inez_), Jean de Reszke (_Vasco_), Édouard de Reszke (_Don Pedro_), Lasalle (_Nelusko_).

CHARACTERS

SELIKA, a slave _Soprano_ INEZ, daughter of Don Diego _Soprano_ ANNA, her attendant _Contralto_ VASCO DA GAMA, an officer in the Portuguese Navy _Tenor_ NELUSKO, a slave _Baritone_ DON PEDRO, President of the Royal Council _Bass_ DON DIEGO } Members of the Council { _Bass_ DON ALVAR } { _Tenor_ GRAND INQUISITOR _Bass_

Priests, inquisitors, councillors, sailors, Indians, attendants, ladies, soldiers.

_Time_--Early sixteenth century.

_Place_--Lisbon; on a ship at sea; and India.

In 1838 Scribe submitted to Meyerbeer two librettos: that of "Le Prophète" and that of "L'Africaine." For the purposes of immediate composition he gave "Le Prophète" the preference, but worked simultaneously on the scores of both. As a result, in 1849, soon after the production of "Le Prophète," a score of "L'Africaine" was finished.

The libretto, however, never had been entirely satisfactory to the composer. Scribe was asked to retouch it. In 1852 he delivered an amended version to Meyerbeer who, so far as his score had gone, adapted it to the revised book, and finished the entire work in 1860. "Thus," says the _Dictionnaire des Opéras_, "the process of creating 'L'Africaine' lasted some twenty years and its birth appears to have cost the life of its composer, for he died, in the midst of preparations for its production, on Monday, May 2, 1864, the day after a copy of his score was finished in his own house in the Rue Montaigne and under his eyes."

* * * * *

## Act I. Lisbon. The Royal Council Chamber of Portugal. Nothing has been

heard of the ship of Bartholomew Diaz, the explorer. Among his officers was _Vasco da Gama_, the affianced of _Inez_, daughter of the powerful nobleman, _Don Diego_. _Vasco_ is supposed to have been lost with the ship and her father now wishes _Inez_ to pledge her hand to _Don Pedro_, head of the Royal Council of Portugal.

During a session of the Council, it is announced that the King wishes to send an expedition to search for Diaz, but one of the councillors, _Don Alvar_, informs the meeting that an officer and two captives, the only survivors from the wreck of Diaz's vessel have arrived. The officer is brought in. He is _Vasco da Gama_, whom all have believed to be dead. Nothing daunted by the perils he has been through, he has formed a new plan to discover the new land that, he believes, lies beyond Africa. In proof of his conviction that such a land exists, he brings in the captives, _Selika_ and _Nelusko_, natives, apparently, of a country still unknown to Europe. _Vasco_ then retires to give the Council opportunity to discuss his enterprise.

In his absence _Don Pedro_, who desires to win _Inez_ for himself, and to head a voyage of discovery, surreptitiously gains possession of an important chart from among _Vasco's_ papers. He then persuades the _Grand Inquisitor_ and the Council that the young navigator's plans are futile. Through his persuasion they are rejected. _Vasco_, who has again come before the meeting, when informed that his proposal has been set aside, insults the Council by charging it with ignorance and bias. _Don Pedro_, utilizing the opportunity to get him out of the way, has him seized and thrown into prison.

## Act II. _Vasco_ has fallen asleep in his cell. Beside him watches

_Selika_. In her native land she is a queen. Now she is a captive and a slave, her rank, of course, unknown to her captor, since she and _Nelusko_ carefully have kept it from the knowledge of all. _Selika_ is deeply in love with _Vasco_ and is broken-hearted over his passion for _Inez_, of which she has become aware. But the love of this supposedly savage slave is greater than her jealousy. She protects the slumbering _Vasco_ from the thrust of _Nelusko's_ dagger. For her companion in captivity is deeply in love with her and desperately jealous of the Portuguese navigator for whom she has conceived so ardent a desire. Not only does she save _Vasco's_ life, but on a map hanging on the prison wall she points out to him a route known only to herself and _Nelusko_, by which he can reach the land of which he has been in search.

_Inez_, _Don Pedro_, and their suite enter the prison. _Vasco_ is free. _Inez_ has purchased his freedom through her own sacrifice in marrying _Don Pedro_. _Vasco_, through the information received from _Selika_, now hopes to undertake another voyage of discovery and thus seek to make up in glory what he has lost in love. But he learns that _Don Pedro_ has been appointed commander of an expedition and has chosen _Nelusko_ as pilot. _Vasco_ sees his hopes shattered.

## Act III. The scene is on _Don Pedro's_ ship at sea. _Don Alvar_, a

member of the Royal Council, who is with the expedition, has become suspicious of _Nelusko_. Two ships of the squadron have already been lost. _Don Alvar_ fears for the safety of the flagship. At that moment a Portuguese vessel is seen approaching. It is in command of _Vasco da Gama_, who has fitted it out at his own expense. Although _Don Pedro_ is his enemy, he comes aboard the admiral's ship to warn him that the vessel is on a wrong course and likely to meet with disaster. _Don Pedro_, however, accuses him of desiring only to see _Inez_, who is on the vessel, and charges that his attempted warning is nothing more than a ruse, with that purpose in view. At his command, _Vasco_ is seized and bound. A few moments later, however, a violent storm breaks over the ship. It is driven upon a reef. Savages, for whom _Nelusko_ has signalled, clamber up the sides of the vessel and massacre all save a few whom they take captive.

## Act IV. On the left, the entrance to a Hindu temple; on the right a

palace. Tropical landscape. Among those saved from the massacre is _Vasco_. He finds himself in the land which he has sought to discover--a tropical paradise. He is threatened with death by the natives, but _Selika_, in order to save him, protests to her subjects that he is her husband. The marriage is now celebrated according to East Indian rites. _Vasco_, deeply touched by _Selika's_ fidelity, is almost determined to abide by his nuptial vow and remain here as _Selika's_ spouse, when suddenly he hears the voice of _Inez_. His passion for her revives.

## Act V. The gardens of _Selika's_ palace. Again _Selika_ makes a

sacrifice of love. How easily she could compass the death of _Vasco_ and _Inez_! But she forgives. She persuades _Nelusko_ to provide the lovers with a ship and bids him meet her, after the ship has sailed, on a high promontory overlooking the sea.

To this the scene changes. On the promontory stands a large manchineel tree. The perfume of its blossoms is deadly to anyone who breathes it in from under the deep shadow of its branches. From here _Selika_ watches the ship set sail. It bears from her the man she loves. Breathing in the poison-laden odour from the tree from under which she has watched the ship depart, she dies. _Nelusko_ seeks her, finds her dead, and himself seeks death beside her under the fatal branches of the manchineel.

* * * * *

Meyerbeer considered "L'Africaine" his masterpiece, and believed that through it he was bequeathing to posterity an immortal monument to his fame. But although he had worked over the music for many years, and produced a wonderfully well-contrived score, his labour upon it was more careful and self-exacting than inspired; and this despite moments of intense interest in the opera. Not "L'Africaine," but "Les Huguenots," is considered his greatest work.

"L'Africaine" calls for one of the most elaborate stage-settings in opera. This is the ship scene, which gives a lengthwise section of a vessel, so that its between-decks and cabin interiors are seen--like the compartments of a huge but neatly partitioned box laid on its oblong side; in fact an amazing piece of marine architecture.

Scribe's libretto has been criticized, and not unjustly, on account of the vacillating character which he gives _Vasco da Gama_. In the first act this operatic hero is in love with _Inez_. In the prison scene, in the second act, when _Selika_ points out on the map the true course to India, he is so impressed with her as a teacher of geography, that he clasps the supposed slave-girl to his breast and addresses her in impassioned song. _Selika_, being enamoured of her pupil, naturally is elated over his progress. Unfortunately _Inez_ enters the prison at this critical moment to announce to _Vasco_ that she has secured his freedom. To prove to _Inez_ that he still loves her _Vasco_ glibly makes her a present of _Selika_ and _Nelusko_. _Selika_, so to speak, no longer is on the map, so far as _Vasco_ is concerned, until, in the fourth act, she saves his life by pretending he is her husband. Rapturously he pledges his love to her. Then _Inez's_ voice is heard singing a ballad to the Tagus River--and _Selika_ again finds herself deserted. There is nothing for her to do but to die under the manchineel tree.

"Is the shadow of this tree so fatal?" asks a French authority. "Monsieur Scribe says yes, the naturalists say no." With this question and answer "L'Africaine" may be left to its future fate upon the stage, save that it seems proper to remark that, although the opera is called "The African," _Selika_ appears to have been an East Indian.

Early in the first act of the opera occurs _Inez's_ ballad, "Adieu, mon beau rivage" (Farewell, beloved shores). It is gracefully accompanied by flute and oboe. This is the ballad to the river Tagus, which _Vasco_ hears her sing in the fourth act. The finale of the first act--the scene in which _Vasco_ defies the Royal Council--is a powerful ensemble. The slumber song for _Selika_ in the second act, as she watches over _Vasco_, "Sur mes genoux, fils du soleil" (On my knees, offspring of the sun) is charming, and entirely original, with many exotic and fascinating touches. _Nelusko's_ air of homage, "Fille des rois, à toi l'hommage" (Daughter of Kings, my homage thine), expresses a sombre loyalty characteristic of the savage whose passion for his queen amounts to fanaticism. The finale of the act is an unaccompanied septette for _Inez_, _Selika_, _Anna_, _Vasco_, _d'Alvar_, _Nelusko_, and _Don Pedro_.

In the act which plays aboardship, are the graceful chorus of women, "Le rapide et léger navire" (The swiftly gliding ship), the prayer of the sailors, "Ô grand Saint Dominique," and Nelusko's song, "Adamastor, roi des vagues profondes" (Adamastor, monarch of the trackless deep), a savage invocation of sea and storm, chanted to the rising of a hurricane, by the most dramatic figure among the characters in the opera. For like _Marcel_ in "Les Huguenots" and _Fides_ in "Le Prophète," _Nelusko_ is a genuine dramatic creation.

The Indian march and the ballet, which accompanies the ceremony of the crowning of _Selika_, open the fourth act. The music is exotic, piquant, and in every way effective. The scene is a masterpiece of its kind. There follow the lovely measures of the principal tenor solo of the opera, _Vasco's_ "Paradis sorti du sein de l'onde" (Paradise, lulled by the lisping sea). Then comes the love duet between _Vasco_ and _Selika_, "Ô transport, ô douce extase" (Oh transport, oh sweet ecstacy). One authority says of it that "rarely have the tender passion, the ecstacy of love been expressed with such force." Now it would be set down simply as a tiptop love duet of the old-fashioned operatic kind.

The scene of _Selika's_ death under the manchineel tree is preceded by a famous prelude for strings in unison supported by clarinets and bassoons, a brief instrumental recital of grief that makes a powerful appeal. The opera ends dramatically with a soliloquy for _Selika_--"D'ici je vois la mer immense" (From here I gaze upon the boundless deep).

L'ÉTOILE DU NORD AND DINORAH

Two other operas by Meyerbeer remain for mention. One of them has completely disappeared from the repertoire of the lyric stage. The other suffers an occasional revival for the benefit of some prima donna extraordinarily gifted in lightness and flexibility of vocal phrasing. These operas are "L'Étoile du Nord" (The Star of the North), and "Dinorah, ou Le Pardon de Ploërmel" (Dinorah, or The Pardon of Ploërmel).

Each of these contains a famous air. "L'Étoile du Nord" has the high soprano solo with _obbligato_ for two flutes, which was one of Jenny Lind's greatest show-pieces, but has not sufficed to keep the opera alive. In "Dinorah" there is the "Shadow Song," in which _Dinorah_ dances and sings to her own shadow in the moonlight--a number which, at long intervals of time, galvanizes the rest of the score into some semblance of life.

The score of "L'Étoile du Nord," produced at the Opéra Comique, Paris, February 16, 1854, was assembled from an earlier work, "Das Feldlager in Schlesien" (The Camp in Silesia), produced for the opening of the Berlin Opera House, February 17, 1847; but the plots differ. The story of "L'Étoile du Nord" relates to the love of _Peter the Great_ for _Catherine_, a cantinière. Their union finally takes place, but not until _Catherine_ has disguised herself as a soldier and served in the Russian camp. After surreptitiously watching _Peter_ and a companion drink and roister in the former's tent with a couple of girls, she loses her reason. When it is happily restored by Peter playing familiar airs to her on his flute, she voices her joy in the show-piece, "La, la, la, air chéri" (La, la, la, beloved song), to which reference already has been made. In the first act _Catherine_ has a "Ronde bohémienne" (Gypsy rondo), the theme of which Meyerbeer took from his opera "Emma de Rohsburg."

"L'Étoile du Nord" is in three acts. There is much military music in the second act--a cavalry chorus, "Beau cavalier au coeur d'acier" (Brave cavalier with heart of steel); a grenadier song with chorus, "Grenadiers, fiers Moscovites" (grenadiers, proud Muscovites), in which the chorus articulates the beat of the drums ("tr-r-r-um"); the "Dessauer" march, a cavalry fanfare "Ah! voyez nos Tartares du Don" (Ah, behold our Cossacks of the Don); and a grenadiers' march: stirring numbers, all of them.

The libretto is by Scribe. The first act scene is laid in Wyborg, on the Gulf of Finland; the second in a Russian camp; the third in Peter's palace in Petrograd. Time, about 1700.

* * * * *

Barbier and Carré wrote the words of "Dinorah," founding their libretto on a Breton tale. Under the title, "Le Pardon de Ploërmel" (the scene of the opera being laid near the Breton village of Ploërmel) the work was produced at the Opéra Comique, Paris, April 4, 1859. It has three principal characters--a peasant girl, _Dinorah_, _soprano_; _Hoël_, a goat-herd, _baritone_; _Corentino_, a bagpiper, _tenor_. The famous baritone, Faure, was the _Hoël_ of the Paris production. Cordier (_Dinorah_), Amodio (_Hoël_), Brignoli (_Corentino_) were heard in the first American production, Academy of Music, New York, November 24, 1864. As _Dinorah_ there also have been heard here Ilma di Murska (Booth's Theatre, 1867), Marimon (with Campanini as _Corentino_), December 12, 1879; Adelina Patti (1882); Tetrazzini (Manhattan Opera House, 1907); and Galli-Curci (Lexington Theatre, January 28, 1918), with the Chicago Opera Company.

_Dinorah_ is betrothed to _Hoël_. Her cottage has been destroyed in a storm. _Hoël_, in order to rebuild it, goes into a region haunted by evil spirits, in search of hidden treasure. _Dinorah_, believing herself deserted, loses her reason and, with her goat, whose tinkling bell is heard, wanders through the mountains in search of _Hoël_.

The opera is in three acts. It is preceded by an overture during which there is sung by the villagers behind the curtain the hymn to Our Lady of the Pardon. The scene of the first act is a rough mountain passage near _Corentino's_ hut. _Dinorah_ finds her goat asleep and sings to it a graceful lullaby, "Dors, petite, dors tranquille" (Little one, sleep; calmly rest). _Corentino_, in his cottage, sings of the fear that comes over him in this lonely region. To dispel it, he plays on his cornemuse. _Dinorah_ enters the hut, and makes him dance with her, while she sings.

When someone is heard approaching, she jumps out of the window. It is _Hoël_. Both he and _Corentino_ think she is a sprite. _Hoël_ sings of the gold he expects to find, and offers _Corentino_ a share in the treasure if he will aid him lift it. According to the legend, however, the first one to touch the treasure must die, and _Hoël's_ seeming generosity is a ruse to make _Corentino_ the victim of the discovery. The tinkle of the goat's bell is heard. _Hoël_ advises that they follow the sound as it may lead to the treasure. The act closes with a trio, "Ce tintement que l'on entend" (The tinkling tones that greet the ear). _Dinorah_ stands among the high rocks, while _Hoël_ and _Corentino_, the latter reluctantly, make ready to follow the tinkle of the bell.

A wood of birches by moonlight is the opening scene of the second act. It is here _Dinorah_ sings of "Le vieux sorcier de la montagne" (The ancient wizard of the mountain), following it with the "Shadow Song," "Ombre légère qui suis mes pas" (Fleet shadow that pursues my steps)--"Ombra leggiera" in the more familiar Italian version.

[Music]

This is a passage so graceful and, when sung and acted by an Adelina Patti, was so appealing, that I am frank to confess it suggested to me the chapter entitled "Shadows of the Stage," in my novel of opera behind the scenes, _All-of-a-Sudden Carmen_.

The scene changes to a wild landscape. A ravine bridged by an uprooted tree. A pond, with a sluiceway which, when opened, gives on the ravine. The moon has set. A storm is rising.

_Hoël_ and _Corentino_ enter; later _Dinorah_. Through the night, that is growing wilder, she sings the legend of the treasure, "Sombre destinée, âme condamnée" (O'ershadowing fate, soul lost for aye).

Her words recall the tragic story of the treasure to _Corentino_, who now sees through _Hoël's_ ruse, and seeks to persuade the girl to go after the treasure. She sings gaily, in strange contrast to the gathering storm. Lightning flashes show her her goat crossing the ravine by the fallen tree. She runs after her pet. As she is crossing the tree, a thunderbolt crashes. The sluice bursts, the tree is carried away by the flood, which seizes _Dinorah_ in its swirl. _Hoël_ plunges into the wild waters to save her.

Not enough of the actual story remains to make a third act. But as there has to be one, the opening of the act is filled in with a song for a _Hunter_ (_bass_), another for a _Reaper_ (_tenor_), and a duet for _Goat-herds_ (_soprano and contralto_). _Hoël_ enters bearing _Dinorah_, who is in a swoon. _Hoël_ here has his principal air, "Ah! mon remords te venge" (Ah, my remorse avenges you). _Dinorah_ comes to. Her reason is restored when she finds herself in her lover's arms. The villagers chant the "Hymn of the Pardon." A procession forms for the wedding, which is to make happy _Dinorah_ and _Hoël_, every one, in fact, including the goat.

Except for the scene of the "Shadow Dance," the libretto is incredibly inane--far more so than the demented heroine. But Meyerbeer evidently wanted to write a pastoral opera. He did so; with the result that now, instead of pastoral, it sounds pasteurized.

Hector Berlioz

(1803-1869)

This composer, born Côte-Saint-André, near Grenoble, December 11, 1803; died Paris, March 9, 1869, has had comparatively little influence upon opera considered simply as such. But, as a musician whose skill in instrumentation, and knowledge of the individual tone quality of every instrument in the orchestra amounted to positive genius, his influence on music in general was great. In his symphonies--"Episode de la Vie d'un Artiste" (characterized by him as a _symphonie phantastique_), its sequel, "Lelio, ou la Retour à la Vie," "Harold en Italie," in which Harold is impersonated by the viola, and the _symphonie dramatique_, "Roméo et Juliette," he proved the feasibility of producing, by means of orchestral music, the effect of narrative, personal characterization and the visualization of dramatic action, as well as of scenery and material objects. He thus became the founder of "program music."

Of Berlioz's operas not one is known on the stage of English-speaking countries. For "La Damnation de Faust," in its original form, is not an opera but a dramatic cantata. First performed in 1846, it was not made over into an opera until 1893, twenty-four years after the composer's death.

BENVENUTO CELLINI

Opera in three acts, by Berlioz. Words by du Wailly and Barbier. Produced, and failed completely, Grand Opéra, Paris, September 3, 1838, and London a fortnight later. Revived London, Covent Garden, 1853, under Berlioz's own direction; by Liszt, at Weimar, 1855; by von Bülow, Hanover, 1879.

CHARACTERS

CARDINAL SALVIATI _Bass_ BALDUCCI, Papal Treasurer _Bass_ TERESA, his daughter _Soprano_ BENVENUTO CELLINI, a goldsmith _Tenor_ ASCANIO, his apprentice _Mezzo-Soprano_ FRANCESCO } Artisans in { _Tenor_ BERNARDINO } Cellini's workshop { _Bass_ FIERAMOSCA, sculptor to the Pope _Baritone_ POMPEO, a bravo _Baritone_

_Time_--1532.

_Place_--Rome.

## Act I. The carnival of 1532. We are in the house of the Papal

treasurer, _Balducci_, who has scolded his daughter _Teresa_ for having looked out of the window. The old man is quite vexed, because the Pope has summoned the goldsmith _Cellini_ to Rome.

_Balducci's_ daughter _Teresa_, however, thinks quite otherwise and is happy. For she has found a note from _Cellini_ in a bouquet that was thrown in to her from the street by a mask--_Cellini_, of course. A few moments later he appears at her side and proposes a plan of elopement. In the morning, during the carnival mask, he will wear a white monk's hood. His apprentice _Ascanio_ will wear a brown one. They will join her and they will flee together. But a listener has sneaked in--_Fieramosca_, the Pope's sculptor, and no less _Cellini's_ rival in love than in art. He overhears the plot. Unexpectedly, too, _Teresa's_ father, _Balducci_, comes back. His daughter still up? In her anxiety to find an excuse, she says she heard a man sneak in. During the search _Cellini_ disappears, and _Fieramosca_ is apprehended. Before he can explain his presence, women neighbours, who have hurried in, drag him off to the public bath house and treat him to a ducking.

## Act II. In the courtyard of a tavern _Cellini_ is seated, with his

assistants. He is happy in his love, for he places it even higher than fame, which alone heretofore he has courted. He must pledge his love in wine. Unfortunately the host will no longer give him credit. Just then _Ascanio_ brings some money from the Papal treasurer, but in return _Cellini_ must promise to complete his "Perseus" by morning. He promises, although the avaricious _Balducci_ has profited by his necessity and has sent too little money. _Ascanio_ is informed by _Cellini_ of the disguises they are to wear at the carnival, and of his plan that _Teresa_ shall flee with him.

Again _Fieramosca_ has been spying, and overhears the plot. Accordingly he hires the bravo _Pompeo_ to assist him in carrying off _Teresa_.

A change of scene shows the crowd of maskers on the Piazza di Colonna. _Balducci_ comes along with _Teresa_. Both from the right and left through the crowd come two monks in the disguise she and her lover agreed upon. Which is the right couple? Soon, however, the two couples fall upon each other. A scream, and one of the brown-hooded monks (_Pompeo_) falls mortally wounded to the ground. A white-hooded monk (_Cellini_) has stabbed him. The crowd hurls itself upon _Cellini_. But at that moment the boom of a cannon gives notice that the carnival celebration is over. It is Ash Wednesday. In the first shock of surprise _Cellini_ escapes, and in his place the other white-hooded monk, _Fieramosca_, is seized.

## Act III. Before _Cellini's_ house, in the background of which, through

a curtain, is seen the bronze foundry, the anxious _Teresa_ is assured by _Ascanio_ that her lover is safe. Soon he comes along himself, with a band of monks, to whom he describes his escape. Then _Balducci_ and _Fieramosca_ rush in. _Balducci_ wants to force his daughter to become _Fieramosca's_ bride. The scene is interrupted by the arrival of _Cardinal Salviati_ to see the completed "Perseus." Poor _Cellini_! Accused of murder and the attempted kidnapping of a girl, the "Perseus" unfinished, the money received for it spent! Heavy punishment awaits him, and another shall receive the commission to finish the "Perseus."

The artist flies into a passion. Another finish his masterpiece! Never! The casting shall be done on the spot! Not metal enough? He seizes his completed works and throws them into the molten mass. The casting begins. The master shatters the mould. The "Perseus," a noble work of art, appears before the eyes of the astonished onlookers--a potent plea for the inspired master. Once more have Art and her faithful servant triumphed over all rivals.

The statue of Perseus, by Benvenuto Cellini, one of the most famous creations of mediæval Italy, is one of the art treasures of Florence.

BEATRICE AND BENEDICT

Opera in two acts, by Berlioz. Words by the composer, after Shakespeare's comedy, "Much Ado about Nothing." Produced at Baden Baden, 1862.

CHARACTERS

DON PEDRO, a general _Bass_ LEONATO, governor of Messina _Bass_ HERO, his daughter _Soprano_ BEATRICE, his niece _Soprano_ CLAUDIO, an officer _Baritone_ BENEDICT, an officer _Tenor_ URSULA, Hero's companion _Contralto_ SOMARONE, orchestral conductor _Bass_

The story is an adaptation of the short version of Shakespeare's play, which preserves the spirit of the comedy, but omits the saturnine intrigue of _Don John_ against _Claudio_ and _Hero_. The gist of the comedy is the gradual reaction of the brilliant but captious _Beatrice_ from pique and partially feigned indifference toward the witty and gallant _Benedict_, to love. Both have tempers. In fact they reach an agreement to marry as a result of a spirited quarrel.

LES TROYENS

THE TROJANS

##