THE STANDARD OPERAGLASS

CHARLES ANNESLEY

CARLO BROSCHI
or
THE DEVIL’S PART

Comic Opera in three acts by Auber

Text by Scribe

This composition might rather be called a vaudeville, with musical accompaniment, than an opera. The music is not above mediocrity, though we find many pleasing and even exquisite melodies in it. That it has held its pres­ent place on the stage for the past forty years is due principally to its excellent libretto, which is full of comical and ingenious situations. The principal rôle is given to Carlo Broschi. He is no other than the famous singer Farinelli, who, as a matter of fact, did heal a Spanish King from madness, though it was not Ferdinand IV., but his predecessor, Philip V., the husband of Eliza­beth of Ferrara. Notwithstanding these anach­ronisms, the libretto ranks with the best.
     Carlo Broschi has placed his only sister Casil­da in a convent near Madrid, to save her from the persecutions of the clergy, who have been trying, for reasons of their own, to give the beau­tiful maiden to the King. Casilda confesses to her brother that she is in love with an unknown cavalier, who entertains a like passion for her, but Carlo, a poor minstrel, considers that his sister, a milliner, does not stand high enough in the social scale to permit a lawful union with a nobleman.
     Carlo meets the King accidentally. He has fallen into deep melancholy, and Carlo succeeds in cheering him by singing an old romance, which he learnt from his mother. Both King and Queen are full of gratitude, and Carlo soon finds himself at court, and loaded with honors. In his new position he meets with Raphael d’Estuniga, Casilda’s lover.
     In despair at having lost his lady-love he is about to appeal to the Devil for help, when Carlo appears, presenting himself as Satan. He promises his help on condition that Raphael shall give him one-half of all his winnings. This is a condition easily accepted, and Raphael is made a court official through Carlo’s influence.
     Meanwhile the clergy vainly try to ensnare the King again; Carlo is like his better self; he disperses his sire’s melancholy by singing to him, and rekindles his interest in government.
     Raphael, feeling quite secure in his league with the Devil, begins to play; he is fortunate, but Carlo never fails to claim his share, is willingly surrendered to him.
     All at once Casilda appears on the scene to put herself under the protection of her brother, the priests having found out her refuge. She recognizes the King, and tells her brother that it was be to whom she was taken against her will. The King believes her to be a ghost, and his reason threatens to give way, but Carlo assures him that the girl is living. The Queen, who knows nothing of her husband’s secret, here interrupts the conversation and bids Carlo follow her.
     Meanwhile Raphael and Casilda have an interview, but the King comes suddenly upon them and at once orders Raphael to be put to death, the latter having failed in the reverence due to his sovereign. Raphael, however, trusting in the Devil’s help, does not let his spirits sink, and Carlo actually saves him by telling the King that Casilda is Raphael’s wife.
     But the Grand Inquisitor succeeds in discovering this untruth and in exciting the King’s anger against his favorite. Carlo, much embarrassed, obtains an interview with the King, and, confessing the whole truth, assures him that the Queen knows as yet nothing, and implores him to give his thoughts and his affections once more to her and to his country. The King, touched to generosity, gives his benediction to the lovers, together with a new title for Raphael, who is henceforth to be called Count of Puycerda. Now, at last, Raphael learns that the so-called Devil is his bride’s brother, who tells him that this time his share lies in making two lovers happy, a share which gives him both pleasure and content.

CARMEN

Opera in four acts by George Bizet

     This opera is essentially Spanish. The music throughout has a southern character, and is passionate and original to a high degree.
     Carmen, the heroine, is a Spanish gipsy, fickle and wayward, but endowed with all the wild graces of her nation. She is adored by her people, and so it is not to be wondered at that she has many of the stronger sex at her feet. She is betrothed to Don José, a brigadier of the Spanish army; of course he is one out of many; she soon grows tired of him, and awakens his jealousy by a thousand caprices and cruelties.
     Don José has another bride, sweet and lovely, Micaëla, waiting for him at home, but she is forgotten as soon as he sees the proud gipsy.
     Micaëla seeks him out, bringing to him the portrait and the benediction of his mother, ay, even her kiss, which she gives him with blushes. His tenderness is gone, however, so far as Micaëla is concerned, as soon as he casts one look into the lustrous eyes of Carmen. This passionate creature has involved herself in a quarrel, and wounded one of her companions, a laborer in a cigarette manufactory. She is to be taken to prison, but Don José lets her off, promising to meet her in the evening at an inn kept by a man named Lillas Pastia, where they are to dance the Seguedilla.
     In the second act we find them there together, with the whole band of gipsies. Don José, more and more infatuated by Carmen’s charms, is willing to join the vagabonds, who are at the same time smugglers. He accompanies them in a dangerous enterprise of this kind, but no sooner baa he submitted to sacrifice love and honor for the gipsy than she begins to tire of his attentions. José has pangs of conscience, he belongs to another sphere of society, and his feelings are of a softer kind than those of Nature’s unruly child. She transfers her affections to a bull-fighter named Escamillo, another of her suitors, who returns her love more passionately. A quarrel ensues between the two rivals. Escamillo’s knife breaks, and he is about to be killed by Don José, when Carmen intervenes, holding back his arm. Don José, seeing that she has duped him, now becomes her deadly foe, filled with undying hatred and longing for revenge.
     Micaëla, the tender-hearted maiden, who fol­lows him everywhere like a guardian angel, reminds him of his lonely mother. Everybody advises him to let the fickle Carmen alone — Carmen who never loved the same man for more than six weeks. But in vain, till Micaëla tells him of the dying mother, asking incessantly for her son; thea at last he consents to go with her, but not without wild imprecations on his rival and his faithless love.
     In the fourth act we find ourselves in Mad-rid. There is to be a bullfight; Escamillo, its hero, has invited the whole company to be present in the circus.
     Don José appears there too, trying, for the last time, to regain his bride. Carmen, though warned by a fellow gipsy, Frasquita, knows no fear. She meets her old lover outside the arena, where he tries hard to’ touch her heart. He kneels at her feet, Vowing never to forsake her, and to be one of her own people, but Carmen, though wayward, is neither a coward nor a liar, and boldly declares that her affections are given to the bull-fighter, whose triumphs are borne to their ears on the shouts of the multitude. Almost beside himself with love and rage, José seizes her hand and attempts to drag her away, but she escapes from him, and, throwing the ring, José’s gift, at his feet, rushes to the door of the arena. He overtakes her, however, and, just as the trumpets announce Escamillo’s victory, in a perfect fury of despair he stabs her through the heart, and the victorious bull­fighter finds his beautiful bride a corpse.

CAVALLERIA RUSTICANA
(SICILIAN RUSTIC CHIVALRY)

Opera in one act by Pietro Mascagni

Text after Verga’s drama of the same name by
Targioni-Tozzetti and Menasci

     The composer of this very brief opera is a young man, who has had a most adventurous life, notwithstanding his youth. Son of a baker in Livorno, he was destined for the bar. But his love for music made him enter clan­destinely into the Instituto Luigi Cherubini, founded by Alfreddo Soifredini. When his father heard of this, he confined him in his chamber, until Pietro’s uncle Steffano prom­iSed to care for him in future. Pietro now was enabled to study diligently. He composed at the age of 13 years a small opera “In filanda,” which was put on the stage by Soifredini. An­other composition, on Schiller’s poem “An die Freude” (To Joy), brought him money and Count Larderell’s favor, who allowed him to study at his expense at the Conservatory at Milan. But Mascagni’s ambition suffered no re­straint, so he snddenly disappeared from Milan and turned up as musical director of a wander­ing troupe. In Naples he grew ill, a young lady nursed him, both fell in love and she became his wife. Hearing that Sonzogno offered a prize for the best opera, he procured himself a li-bretto, and composed the Cavalleria Rusticana in little more than a week, and gained the prize.
     Henceforward all, of course, were anxious to hear the music of the unknown artist, and lo! the opera was an immense success.
     It Cannot be called a masterpiece, yet it is certainly the offspring of genius, as fresh and as absolutely original as it is highly dramatic.
     The text, though retaining little of the exquisite beauty of the original drama, which ought to be read before hearing its fragments in the opera, assists tbe music a good deal. The wave of human passion sweeps over it, passion as it occurs in daily life, for the compo­sition belongs to the realistic style, as far as it is based on truth and reality alone.
     The true local color makes it doubly attractive.
     The following are the very simple facts of the story, which takes place in a Sicilian village.
     Turridu, a young peasant, has loved and wooed Lola before entering military service. At his return he finds the flighty damsel married to the wealthy carrier Alfio, who glories in his pretty wife and treats her very well. Turridu tries to console himself with another young peasant girl, San tuzza, who loves him ardently, and to whom he has promised marriage.
     The opera only begins at this point.
     Lola, the coquette, however, cannot bear to know that her former sweetheart should love another woman. She flirts with him, and before the curtain has been raised, after the overture, Turridu’s love-song is heard for Lola, who grants him a rendezvous in her own house.
     This excites Santuzza’s wildest jealousy. She complains to Turridu’s mother, who vainly tries to soothe her. Then she has a last interview with Turridu, who is just entering the church.
     She reproaches him first with his treachery, then implores him not to forsake her and leave her dishonored.
     Bnt Turridu remains deaf to all entreaty, and flings her from him. At last, half mad through her lover’s stubbornness, Santuzza betrays him and Lola to Alfio, warning the latter that his wife has proved false. After church, Alfio and Turridu meet in mother Lucia’s tavern. Aiflo refusing to drink of Turridu’s wine, the latter divines that the husband knows all. The men and women leave while the two adversaries, after Sicilian custom, embrace each other, Alfio biting Turridu in the ear, which indicates mortal challenge. Turridu, deeply repenting his folly, as well as his falseness, towards poor Santuzza, recommends her to his mother. He hurries into the garden, where Alfio expects him; a few minutes later his death is announced by the peasants, and Santuzza falls back in a dead swoon; with which the curtain closes over the tragedy.

COSI FAN TUTTE

Comic Opera in two acts by Mozart

Text by Da Ponte,
newly arranged by L. Schneider and Ed. Deyrient

     This opera, though lovely in its way, has never had the success which the preceding Figaro and Don Juan attained, and this is due for the most part to the libretto. In the original text it really shows female fickleness, and justi­fies its title. But the more Mozart’s music was admired, the less could one be satisfied with such a libretto. Schneider and Devrient there­fore altered it and in their version the two female lovers are put to the test, but midway in the plot it is revealed to them that they are be­ing tried—with the result that they feign faith­lessness, play the part out, and, at the close, declare their know]edge, turning the sting against the authors of the unworthy comedy. The con­tents may be told shortly.
     Don Fernando and Don Alvar are betrothed to two Andalusian ladies, Rosaura and Isabella.
     They loudly praise their ladies’ fidelity, when an old bachelor, named Onofrio, pretends that their sweethearts are not better than other women, and accessible to temptation. The lovers agree to make the trial, and promise to do everything which Onofrio dictates. Thereupon they announce to the ladies that they are ordered to Havana with their regiment, and, after a tender leavetaking, they depart, to appear again, in another guise, as officers of a strange regiment. Onofrio has won the ladies’ maid, Dolores, to aid in the furtherance of his schemes, and the officers enter, beginning at once to make love to Isabella and Rosaura, but each, as was before agreed, to the other’s affianced.
     Of course, the ladies reject them, and the lovers begin to triumph, when Onofrio prompts them to try another temptation. The strangers, mad with love, pretend to drink poison in the young ladies’ presence. Of course, these tender­hearted maidens are much aggrieved; they call Dolores, who bids her mistresses hold the pa­tients in their arms; then, coming disguised as a physician, she gives them an antidote. By this clumsy subterfuge they excite the ladies’ pity, and are nearly successful in their foolish endeavors, when Dolores, pitying the cruelly tested women, reveals the whole plot to them.
     Isabella and Rosaura now resolve to enter into the play. They accept the disguised suitors, and even consent to a marriage. Dolores ap­pears in the shape of a notary, without being recognized by the men. The marriage contract is signed, and the lovers disappear, to return in their true characters, full of righteous con­tempt. Isabella and Rosaura make believe to be conscience stricken, and for a long while tor­ment and deceive their angry bridegrooms. But at last they grow tired of teasing, they present the disguised Dolores, and they put their lovers to shame by showing that all was a farce. Of course, the gentlemen humbly ask their pardon, and old Onofrio is obliged to own himself beaten.

THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH

Opera in three acts by CARL GOLDMARK

Text after Dickens’s tale by M. WILLNER

     With this opera Goidmark has entered a novel way in composing. He has renounced all sen­sational effects and has produced an opera which is fnll of charming melodies, but which hacks the high dramatic verve to which we are accus­tomed from this composer; there are, however, remarkably fine pieces in the whole, the best of them being Dot’s dancing song in the second act, the quintetto at the end of it, and the pre­lude in the third act, into which Goldmark has interwoven the popular song “Weisst Du, wie viel Sternlein stehen.”
     The story is soon told, as everybody is sup­posed to know its contents from Dickens’s fa­mous fairytale. That it is less pretty than the original is not Mr. Wiliner’s fault, who did his best to endue it with dramatic strength, and to make it more effective, an elevation to which the tale never aspired, its poetic simplicity be­ing its great charm.
     The scene is laid in an English village.
     The cricket, a little fairy, lives with a pos­tilion, John, and his wife Dot. They are a happy couple, the only thing wanting to their complete happiness being children, and even this ardent wish Dot knows will be fulfilled before long.
     A young doll-maker, May, visits Dot to un­burden her heavy heart. The young girl is to marry her old and rich employer Tackleton, in order to save her foster-father from want, but she cannot forget her old sweetheart, a sailor named Eduard, who left her years ago, never to come back. Dot tries to console her, and gives her food for her old father. When May has taken leave, Dot’s husband John enters, bring­ing a strange guest with him.
     It is Eduard, who has, however, so disguised himself that nobody recognizes him. Dot re­ceives him hospitably, and while he follows her in another room, a very lively scene ensues, all the village people flocking in to receive their letters and parcels at John’s hands.
     In the second act John rests from his labor in his garden, while Dot, who finds her husband, who is considerably older than herself, somewhat too self-confident and phlegmatic, tries to make him appreciate her more by arous­ing his jealousy. While they thus talk and jest, May enters, followed by her old suitor, who has already chosen the wedding-ring for her. Eduard listens to his wooing with ill-concealed anxiety, and Tackleton, not pleased to find a stranger in his friend’s house, gruffly asks his name. The strange sailor tells him that he left his father and his sweetheart to seek his fortune elsewhere, and that he has come hack, rich and independent, only to find his father dead and his sweetheart lost to him. His voice moves May strangely, but Tackleton wants to see his riches. Eduard shows them some fine jewels, which so delight Dot that she begins to adorn herself with them and to dance about the room. Eduard presents her with a beautiful cross, and seizes the opportunity to reveal to her his identity, entreating her not to betray him. Then he turns to May, begging her to choose one of the trinkets, but Tackleton inter­feres, saying that his promised bride does not need any jewels from strange people. Dot is greatly embarrassed, and Tackleton, mistaking her agitation, believes that she has fallen in love with the sailor, and insinuates as much to her husband, whom he invites to have a glass of beer with him.
     This unusual generosity on the part of the avaricious old man excites the clever little wife’s suspicion. May having withdrawn, she greets the friend of her youth with great ostentation (knowing herself secretly watched by John and Tackleton), and promises to help him to regain his sweetheart. John and his friend, who suddenly return, see them together, and poor old John gets wildly jealous. But when he is alone he falls asleep, and the faithful cricket prophetically shows him his wife fast asleep in a dream, while a little boy in miniature pos­tilion’s dress plays merrily in the background.
     In the third act Dot adorns May with the bridal wreath, but the girl is in a very sad mood. All at once she hears the sailor sing; Dot steals away, and May, vividly reminded of her old love by the song, decides to refuse old Tackleton at the last moment, and to remain true to Eduard until the end of her life. The sailor, hearing her resolve, rushes in, tearing off his false gray beard, and catches May, who at last recognizes him, in his arms. Meanwhile Tackleton arrives gorgeously attired; he brings a necklace of false pearls and invites May to drive with him to the wedding ceremony in the church at once. A whole chorus of people interrupt this scene, however; they greet him, saying they are his wedding guests, exciting the miser’s wrath. At last May, who had retired to put on her bridal attire, reappears, but, instead of taking Tackleton’s arm, she walks up to Eduard, who, courteously thanking the old lover for the carriage standing at the door, suddenly disap­pears with May. The chorus detains the furious old Tackleton until the lovers are well out of the way.
     Meanwhile Dot has explained her behavior to John, and, whispering her, sweet secret into his ear, makes him the happiest man on earth. The cricket, the good fairy of the house, chirps sweetly and the last scene shows once more a picture of faithfulness and love.

CZAR AND ZIMMERMANN
or
THE TWO PETERS

Comic Opera in three acts by LORTZING

     This charming little opera had even more success than Lortzing’s other compositions; it is a popnlar opera in the best sense of the word. Lortzing ought to have made his fortune by it, for it was soon claimed by every stage. He had composed it for Christmas, 1837, and in the year 1838 every street organ played its principal melodies. But the directors paid miserable sums to the lucky composer. (For example, a copy of the work cost him 25 thalers, while he did not get more than 30 to 50 thalers ‘from the directors.)
     The libretto was composed by Lortzing him­self; he took it out of an old comedy.
     Peter, Emperor of Russia, has taken service on the wharfs of Saardam as simple ship-car­penter under the assumed name of Peter Michaelow. Among his companions is another Peter, named Ivanow, a Russian renegade. who has fallen in love with Mary, the niece of the burgomaster Van Bett.
     The two Peters, being countrymen and f ear­ing discovery, have become friendly, but Ivanow, instinctively feeling his friend’s superiority, is jealous of him, and Mary, a little coquette, nourishes his passion.
     Meanwhile the ambassadors of France and England, each of whom wishes for a special connection with the Czar of Russia, have discov­ered where he must be, and both bribe the conceited simpleton Van Bett, who tries to find out the real Peter.
     He assembles the people, but there are many Peters amongst them, though only two strangers. He asks them whence they come, then takes aside Peter. Ivanow, cross-questioning him in vain as to what he wishes to know.
     At last, being aware of Peter’s love for Mary, be gives him some hope of gaining her hand, and obtains in exchange a promise from the young man to confess his secret in presence of the foreign nobleman. The cunning French ambassador, the Marquis de Chateauneuf, has easily found out the Czar and gained his pur­pose, while the phlegmatic English Lord, falsely directed by the burgomaster, is still in trans­action with Ivanow. All this takes place during a rural festivity, where the Marquis, not-withstanding the claims upon his attention, finds time to court pretty Mary, exciting Ivanow’s hate and jealousy. Ivanow with difficulty plays the rôle of Czar, which personage he is supposed to he as well by Lord Syndham as by Van Bett. He well knows that he deserves punish­ment if he is found out on either side. The burgomaster, getting more and more confused, and fearing himself surrounded by spies and cheats, examines one of the strangers after the other, and is, of course, confounded to hear their high-flown names; at last he seizes the two Peters, hut is deterred from his purpose by the two ambassadors. They are now joined by a third, the Russian General Lefort, who comes to call hack his sovereign to his own country. In the third act Van Bett has prepared a solemn demonstration of fealty for the supposed Czar, whom he still mistakes for the real one, while the real Czar has found means to go on hoard of his ship with the Marquis and Lefort. Be­fore taking farewell, he promises a passport to Ivanow, who is very dubious as to what will be­come of him. Meanwhile Van Bett approaches him with his procession to do homage, but dur­ing his long and confused speech cannon-shots are heard, and an usher announces that Peter Michaelow is about to sail away with a large crew. The background opens and shows the port with the Czar’s ship. Everybody bursts into shouts “Long live the Czar!” and Ivanow, opening, the paper which his high-born friend left to him, reads that the Czar grants him pardon for his desertion and bestows upon him a considerable sum of money.

LE CID

Opera in four acts by Jules Massenet

Text by Dennery, Gallet anb Blau

     This is considered by many to be the composer’s best work, and it has been immensely popular from the time of its production in Paris in 1885. The music is easy flowing and brilliant, and is beautifully adapted to the libretto.
     The first scene is in the house of the Count de Gormas, where several noblemen are discussing the coming honor of knighthood, which the King of Spain is about to confer on the popular young hero Rodrigo, son of Don Diego, a renowned warrior. The King is also to appoint on that day a preceptor for his daughter, and it is the general opinion that Count de Gormas will he the one selected to fill this honorable position.
    Ximene, the beautiful daughter of Count de Gormas, is deeply in love with Rodrigo, who returns her affection. She confides her love to the Infanta, who in her turn confesses a passion for Rodrigo, hut realizing her position as heir to the throne of Castile, promises Ximene to conceal her own feelings, and to assist in uniting the lovers.
     In the next scene the knighthood of Rodrigo takes place amid the great rejoicing of the people. After the ceremony, the King appoints Don Diego preceptor for his daughter, much to the chagrin of Count de Gormas, who intentionally picks a quarrel with the aged Don Diego, and easily disarms him. Don Diego, overcome with shame at this disgrace, calls on his son to avenge his honor. Rodrigo is overwhelmed with grief when he bears that it is Ximene’s father that he must meet, but the family name is at stake, and he swears to defend it.
     They meet in a moonlit street near the Count’s palace, and the Count is slain by Rodrigo. Ximene, hearing the disturbance comes forth, and finding her father’s dead body, swears to be revenged on his murderer, and goes immediately to the King, demanding justice. The King is about to regretfully condemn Rodrigo to death, when a messenger arrives with news that a great army of Moors is approaching, and Rodrigo obtains the grace of a day to lead the attack against the enemy, promising that, if he survives, he will return and give himself up to justice. Before leaving he seeks an interview with Ximene, and tells her that he intends to let himself be killed in battle. This so frightens her that she confesses her love, and begs him to protect himself and defeat the enemy, and thus atone for his crime. Rodrigo goes forth to war with a light heart and vanquishes the Moors, and is hailed by them the “Cid” or conqueror. On his return he gives himself up to the King according to his promise, who gladly pardons him on hearing that Ximene has confessed her love and renounced her vengeance, and the lovers are happily betrothed amid great rejoicing of the people.

COPPELIA

Grand Ballet in three acts by Leo Delibes

Text by Charles Nuitter and A. Saint-Léon

     The ballet of action, when well conducted, is always a pleasing form of entertainment, and Coppelia has been a decided success from the time of its first production in Paris in 1870. The plot, which is founded on Hoffman’s story “Der Sandmann,” is clever and amusing. The ballet throughout is arranged with considerable skill and taste, and the music is bright and sparkling.
     The scene is laid in a small town near Galicia, and in the first act the public square is shown with the residence of Coppelius prominently in view. At one of the barred windows of the house sits Coppelia, the beautiful and mysterious daughter of old Coppelius. She is apparently a prisoner in her father’s, house, as no one has ever seen her outside or even heard the sound of her voice. Many young gallants have tried to gain admittance, hut old Coppelius will admit no one, and Coppelia remains the mystery of the village.
     Swanilda, a young maiden of the town, suspects her lover Frantz of being in love with Coppelia, and appears before the house trying every means in her power to attract the attention of her rival, but all in vain. Becoming impatient, she is in the act of knocking- at the door to gain admittance, when Coppelius appears at one of the windows. She then conceals herself in the shadow of the house, and while hiding there, her lover Frantz appears on the scene, and, observing Coppelia at her window, bows and throws kisses to her. Swanilda he-comes madly jealous, and, pretending not to see Frantz, runs gaily after a passing butterfly. Frantz follows her, and, catching the butterfly, pins it to her coat, for which he is severely reproached by Swanilda for his cruelty. She then tells him that she has discovered his treachery, and that she no longer cares for him, and while Frantz is endeavoring to defend himself, they are interrupted by the entrance of the Burgomaster, and many peasants, who are preparing for the grand fête which is to take place the next day. Observing Swanilda, the Burgo­master promises that on the morrow she shall be wedded to Frantz, but she declares that she no longer cares for her flancé, and will not marry him.
     The peasants gradually disperse, and when the street is deserted Coppelius comes forth from his house and disappears in the darkness. Swanilda and some girl friends, who are secretly watching Coppelius, notice that he drops a key from his pocket, and on discovering that it is the key to his house, their curiosity gets the better of them, and they enter. Meanwhile, Frantz, who has been lurking in the neighborhood, has also noticed the departure of Coppelius, and obtaining a ladder, is in the act of entering the window of Coppelia’s chamber when he is discovered by the enraged Coppelius, who has returned to look for his key.
     The second act discloses the studio of Coppelius, where the frightened maidens are seen examining the weird ornaments of the mysterious room. At length they discover that Coppelia and all the figures are in reality nothing but automatons, and losing their fear they press the springs, and set the numerous figures to dancing and playing. They soon are disturbed in their merriment by the entrance of the enraged Coppelius, but all succeed in making their escape with the exception of Swanilda, who conceals herself behind a curtain. The persistent Frantz in the meantime again makes use of the ladder and enters the studio window, only to be pounced upon by Coppelius, who, pretending friendliness, induces him to drink of a magic potion, which he hopes will have the effect of taking a few sparks of life from Frantz’s body, which he then will infuse into the automaton Coppelia. Mistaking Swanilda for Coppelia, he becomes wild with joy when he sees that his experiment is evidently successful, and that Coppelia is actually turning into a living woman. After practicing the deception for a time, Swanilda restores Frantz to himself, and they rush from the house together, leaving poor old Coppelius in the belief that his reason has deserted him.
     In the tableau which follows, Frantz and Swanilda are happily married, and the house of Coppelius is ransacked by the guards, and his pieces of workmanship are smashed to atoms. He is partly appeased, however, by the Lord of the Manor, who, at Swanilda’s request, gives him a purse of money.
     The third act, which is a pantomime, deals with the fête of the Bell. First is seen the morning prayer, which is followed by the working hours, when the young girls and reapers begin their work. The bell rings, and their labors being over for the day, the evening is given over to pleasure-making.

THE CAVALIER OF THE ROSE

Comic Grand Opera in three acts by Richard Strauss

Book by Hugo von Hoffmannsthal

     This work was first heard in Dresden, in 1911. The scene is laid in Vienna, in the time of Empress Maria Theresa.
     The first act shows the drawing rooms of the Princess von Werdenberg. Her husband is conveniently absent on a trip to Arabia, hunting wild beasts, and the inconsolable spouse meanwhile is trying to make up for her loss by splendidly entertaining a young cavalier, the Count Octaviano Rofrano. While he is paying her fulsome compliments and maintaining a love-lorn attitude, she is only too conscious of her own dwindling attractions. Loud and importunate ringing at the house bell frightens the princess, who suspects a too early return of her lord. The count finds a ready way out of the embarrassing situation. He hastily dons the garments of the coquettish chambermaid, and then opens the door himself. It is only a cousin of the princess from the provinces, Baron Ochs von Lerchenau, who comes to ask his relative for advice in an important venture. His aim is to wed Sophie, the daughter of a wealthy army cointractor, or rather her fat dowry. This wooer, puffed up with self-importance, shallow and vain, confesses outright that the bride-to-be does not matter to him, but solely her money. To open his campaign as a suitor for the young lady’s hand, he proposes to send to her a personal representative with a rose fashioned of silver, as a time-honored emblem of his earnest intentions. And he desires the princess to tell him whom to seind as a trusty messenger. Luncheon is served, of which both he and the princess partake, waited on during the meal by Octaviano in his rôle as maid. The baron is condescending enough to be smitten with the fascinations of this supposed waitress, and makes an appointment to meet her, or rather him. This angers the princess’ notions of decorum, and in a spirit of spite she suggests Octaviano for the part of cavalier of the rose. This suits the baron. He goes away, and the princess, left by herself, sees a number of per-sons, needy and otherwise. Incidentaliy she once more consults her mirror as to whether she has not made a mistake in recommending Octaviano for the bearer of the baron’s message, for she fears thereby to lose control of him.
     The army contractor’s luxurious apartments are the scene of the second act. Octaviano am pears, solemn as a high priest, with the silver rose for Sophie. Her father, Faninal by name, is intensely flattered at the prospect of intimate connections with the higher nobility. But Octaviano is greatly impressed with the girl herself, and resolves to outdo the foolish old baron. Sophie on her part also likes him very much and feels a strong aversion to the baron when she meets him a little. later. The baron leaves, and Octaviano is left alone for a short while with Sophie. He makes good use of his opportunity, and the two spying servants in the pay of the baron report these facts to the latter. A lively. discussion between Octaviano and the baron fob lows, in which that worthy is practically told that he is an idiot and unworthy of such a phenix as Sophie. At this they draw their swords, and fall to. The baron, as great a poltroon as he is an absurd wooer, is slightly wounded and cries out in pain. There is an uproar and Sophie’s father comes on the scene. He commands his daughter to accept the baron for a husband, or else to go to a nunnery for life. The baron at this awakes from his swoon, especially as he remembers his appointment with the fictitious maid.
     In act three Octaviano is seen hurrying to a hotel in a secluded part of the city, wearing a maid’s costume over his own clothes. He has bribed some of the baron’s servants to aid him in duping their master. Everything has been provided by the baron to capture the coy maid, as he supposes. There is a table laden with delicacies, gay music, choice wines, and a cloud of menials to carry out every one of his desires. But the flirting with the "maid" lags. The baron is irritated. Besides, the apartment seems to be haunted. Furious at meeting with this cold reception, he is beside himself when suddenly there enters the official Guardian of Good Morals, and forthwith proceeds to demand the "maid’s" name and business. The baron vouches for his guest as Sophie, his betrothed. But the latter, informed in advance of what is going on, here enters with her father, and a complete exposure ensues. The baron becomes the butt of all when the maid slips off her outer costume and stands revealed as Octaviano. Of course, Octaviano now becomes the accepted lover of Sophie with her father’s consent.

CENDRILLON (Cinderella)

Fairy Opera in four acts by J. Massenet

Text based on a French collection of fairy tales

Initial performance in Paris, 1899.
     Act I. Shows Cendrillon at the home of her stepmother, Mine. Haltière, who with her two daughters is treating Cendrillon abominably. While the three are making elaborate preparations to attend a splendid court ball, Cendrillon is told to stay at home and mind the household. She is sitting before the hearth dreaming of future happiness, when her godmother, a benevolent fairy, makes her appearance. She brings magnificent garments with her, together with a marvelously small pair of slippers, and these fit as only fairy slippers ever do. Poor Cendrillon rapidly dons all, and the fairy tells her she may go to the ball herself, but must leave there promptly at twelve, unless evil is to befall her. A splendid glass coach and six are waiting, and she drives off with attendants in full livery.
     Act II. Meanwhile the stepmother is vainly plying all her arts to make the host, Prince Charming, fall in love with one of her own daughters, but the prince pays no attention to either of them. Cendrillon enters, quite unrecognizable in her magnificent attire, and creates an enormous sensation. The prince is instantly bewitched by her charms, and devotes his attentions to her exclusively. It is a case of love at first sight, both for him and her. Time flies, and before Cendrillon realizes it, midnight strikes. She swiftly runs to the fairy coach that is waiting for her, but in her haste she loses one of her slippers.
     Act III. The next day things at the house of Mine. Haltière are rather uncomfortable. She herself is furious at the success of her stepdaughter, and she upbraids her husband. Cendrillon sheds tears because she never expects to see the prince again, and when her father comes to console her, thinking that she is unhappy because of her treatment by the stepmother, he promises her to go with her and seek refuge elsewhere. But Cendrillon will not accept such a sacrifice. She flees alone into the dark, stormy night. The scene changes to the fairies’ great oak tree. The weather is mild and clear and fairies are skipping about. Cendrillon comes, imploring protection. But Prince Charming is also there, in search of his beautiful unknown. Each recognizes the other’s voice.
     Act IV. Cendrillon is at home again. She is recovering from a fever. Suddenly a messenger from the king is heard proclaiming in the streets that on that very day Prince Charming will reeeive the ladies of the kingdom at his palace, and that she whose foot fits the small crystal slipper left behind at the recent court ball shall be his wife. All the ladies try, but only Cendrillon can get the slipper on her tiny foot. The change of scene shows Cendrillon acknowledged as the promised spouse of the prince, and the whole court does homage to her.

LE CHEMINEAU

Opera in four acts by Xavier H. N. Leroux

Text based on a novel by Lucien Favre

     In the first act Le Cheminean, the best farm-hand of Pierre, a well-to-do farmer in France, and one who is always cheerful and ready, for a joke, is introduced. Toinette, who is also in Pierre’s employ, is deeply in love with him, and he with her. But Le Chemineau is even more fond of a roving life, and hates to assume steady responsibilities. Hence he makes up his mind to resume his wanderings and tells Toinette. She attempts to restrain him, and François, likewise in love with Toinette, mingles in the conversation, belittles Le Chemineau, and pleads with her. Pierre, the farmer, encourages Toinette to stay, while she wishes to join her sweetheart in his roving life. Le Chemineau cuts short the discussion by striding off, and while Toinette falls in a swoon and confesses that she has been his mistress, Le Chemineau’s song of departure is heard from a distant field.
     Twenty years have gone, and François has really married Toinette. But François is now an invalid, and both he and his wife worry because their only son, Toinet, is always sad. Aline, old Pierre’s daughter, is fond of Toinet, but her father is opposed to marriage with him. Pierre even says that sooner than see her the wife of Toinet he ‘would have her dead. He finally drives Toinette and François from his farm, and threatens to betray the fact that Toinet is really an illegitimate son of Le Chemineau. François, enraged, rushes at Pierre, but feebly totters and falls prone to the floor, upbraiding his wife for hiding for so many years the fact from him that Toinet is not his own son at all.
     In Act III two farm hands, former coworkers with Le Chemineau and François, are discussing Toinet’s hard lot, when the latter, wearied from long walking, enters the wayside inn where the discussion takes place. Catherine, the hostess, sends Toinet to the barn for a rest, while Le Chemineau, still very much his old self, drops in, singing and jolly. He has been all this time moving about from place to place. The farm hands recognize him, but he does not know them. From their talk he learns what became of Toinette, his former sweetheart, and feels sorry for her. While he is still seated Toinette comes to look for her vanished son, and she is taken to his couch. Chemineau remains, realizing with difficulty that Toinet is his own son. He also goes to the barn and there he meets Toinette, who accuses him of being the author of all her present misfortunes. He begs for her forgiveness, which she grants.
     The last act shows Toinette’s house on Christmas eve. Aline and Toinet are now married, and prepare to go to midnight mass. Le Cheminean is also there, and he offers to stay with the invalid François if Toinette will join the young couple in their walk to church. Toinette accedes and hopes that her former lover, Le Chemineau, will never leave them.  Old Pierre comes in and tells Le Chemineau that if only he will marry Toinette after François has died, he will make him comfortable for the rest of his life. Le Chemineau declines. François has heard all and thanks Le Chemineau. The latter goes away, resuming his wandering existence, while the bells are heard announcing the end of the mass.

THE CHIMES OF NORMANDY

Light Opera in three acts by R. J. Planquette

Libretto by Clairville and Gabet

     The first production took place at Paris, in 1877. The scene is laid in Normandy, among the inhabitants of a fishing village.
     The first act presents an attractive picture of village life with the annual fair at Corneville.The old Marquis de Villeroi has returned after a long absence from his estates, and the village population is therefore celebrating this event. Everybody, is at the fair, old gossips and rustic lovers in particular. Their tongues wag most about Serpolette, a pert village beauty, and Gaspard, an old miser, whom folks envy and curse because of his wealth for which he is said to have sold himself to the evil one. It is mainly because of old Gaspard’s cruel treatment of his niece, Germaine, that he is hated and despised. lie wants to force her to marry whereas she herself inclines much more to Jean the sheriff, an elderly and unattractive person, Grenicheux, a bold young fisherman, who once rescued her from drowning. As servants are hired at the fair, Germaine and Jean both engage themselves to the marquis, hoping in this way to escape the sordid plans of old Gaspard.
     The marquis has resolved to restore thoroughly his château, fallen into decay during the many years of his absence, and popularly believed to be haunted, so that the villagers have held it in great fear. At the beginning of the second act the marquis has therefore given orders that the whole of the immense building be completely overhauled. In doing this Gaspard, the old miser, who had purposely fostered the notion of spooks in the cellars because he has there kept his bags of gold, is found gloating over his treasures. The sudden interruption, together with the grief of being found out and perhaps losing all his gold, weigh so much on his mind that he runs off into the cold night a shrieking maniac.
    The last act is presented at the banquet hall of the château, which now has been entirely restored and embellished. The marquis is feast-ing the whole village, and joy runs high among his guests. Serpolette is most conspicuous, and Jean, who formerly scorned her, assiduously is wooing her, for after the flight of Gaspard documents were found among his papers which seem to prove that she is the heiress to the miser’s wealth. Gaspard himself has all this time been strolling about bereft of reason. The marquis on his part has fallen in love with Germaine, although she fills but the place of a servant in his household. The day comes, however, when the miser recovers his senses, and then everything changes, for it is then shown that, after all, Germaine, is his niece and rightful heiress, and so the marquis may wed her. Serpolette steps down from her height and contents herself with an ordinary husband.

CLEOPATRA

Tragic Opera in four acts by X. H. N. Leroux

Text based on Sardou’s drama of the same name

This opera was first performed in Paris, 1890, and in America first in Chicago, 1919. The libretto follows closely historical events.
     Mark Anthony, in camp at Tarsus, is proclaimed victorious general of Rome, in the first act. The delegates of the conquered nations withdraw, save alone Spakos, the favorite of Cleopatra. Preceded by Charmion, her trusted slave girl, Cleopatra enters. Anthony, at first haughty and suspicious, is completely fascinated by Egypt’s queen. Envoys from Rome bring an order from the Senate for his return, but he refuses to leave Cleopatra.
     In the second act preparations are being made for the marriage of Anthony with Octavia. Ennius, just back from the Nile, tells of Anthony’s orgies there. Octavia, on her way to the nuptial chamber, enters with Anthony; the latter demands of Ennius news regarding Cleopatra. Learning that Spakos is for the moment high in her favor, Mark Anthony grows fiercely jealous. When Octavia returns he discloses to her his relations with Cleopatra, and Octavia falls fainting. The scene that follows takes us to Alexandria, Egypt. Spakos and Cleopatra, disguised as a boy, enter an inn together. There is a mob, and one of them, a public dancer named Adamos, attracts Cleopatra. Spakos becomes frantic with jealousy, while Cleopatra takes off her costly headdress and praises the crowd for having amused her. Suddenly the approach of Mark Anthony is announced to her, and despite the furious outbreaks of Spakos she hastens to meet him.
     There is a garden scene in the third act, with Cleopatra and Mark Anthony loitering in the shady paths. She offers to kiss that man who will afterwards empty a chalice filled with deadly poison. He dashes the vessel to the ground. Octavia enters unannounced, begging her husband to return to Rome for important affairs. Anthony, however, scorns her and her advice and prepares to meet Octavius on the battlefield. Spakos assures Octavia that Cleopatra has been his and shall be his again! Anthony comes in his battle chairiot to bid farewell to Cleopatra.
     In the last act Cleopatra is waiting news of the fight at Actium, lolling on a terrace overlooking the sea. She has made preparations for suicide in case Anthony is dead. Charmion comes with a basket of flowers in which an asp is concealed, and Cleopatra says she prefers death from snakebite to being exhibited in Octavius’ triumphal procession. Spakos enters, telling her that Anthony believes her dead and will never return to her. Then he protests his undying love for her. Cleopatra stabs him to the heart. Anthony, having fallen on his own sword on hearing of Cleopatra’s death, enters mortally wounded. As he expires, Cleopatra lays the asp to her bosom and, dies before the entrance of victorious Octavius.

CRISPINO E LA COMARE

Fairy Opera in three acts by G. Ricci

Words by P. Cavalieri and D. Vestri

     This tuneful opera was first given six years after the composer’s death, in 1865, in Paris.
     Act I. Crispino and Annetta, his wife, are a luckless, penniless couple with a large family. He is a cobbler and she a street ballad vendor, and their miserly landlord is about to put them on the pavement for non-paid rent. Crispino, in despair, wants to throw himself into an old deep well, when a fairy appears in a mist, and hinders this attempt at self-destruction, promising henceforth to take care of him. The bargain she makes with him is this : he is to be-come a famous physician, and to perfect a cure in every instance where she, the fairy, will not be visible to him at the patient’s bed.
     Act II. Happiness at last seems to have come to the couple, for marvelous cures are effected by Crispino. This arouses the jealousy of ‘the doctors.
     Act III. Crispino, spoiled by success, becomes cruel to his wife and even forgets the fairy’s warning. For punishment the fairy makes the ground swallow him up. Crispino sees terrible visions. As a last request he begs his protectress to let him see his wife and children once more. This brings about his forgiveness, and he finds himself again at home.

CYRANO DE BERGERAC

Dramatic Opera in four acts by Frank Damrosch

Text based on Rostand’s well-known drama

     The opening performance of this work occurred in New York, 1913. The plot is a very clever condensation of Rostand’s spirited drama, and is replete with action. The scene is laid in the year 1640.
     Act I shows the Hôtel do Bourgogne where the play, "La Clorisse," is about to begin. Montfleury, the leading actor, is in disgrace, and has been forbidden to act for a whole month by Cyrano’s whim, the unfortunate star having incurred his displeasure not alone for bad playing but for his presumption in glancing at Cyrano’s cousin, Roxane. Cyrano, although madly in love with Roxane, does not trust himself to avow his state of feelings, merely because nature has endowed him with a monstrous nose, and he fears ridicule like death. Christian, Baron do Neuvillette, is also secretly in love with Roxane, but her relative Guiche favors none of these, but rather the Viscount do Valvert for her suitor. However, Guiche fails in this, and a friend of Christian’s, Lignière, has even composed a song of derision at Guiche’s expense. LeBret, Cyrano’s friend, is impatiently expecting the latter. Christian is jealous of Valvert. Christian detects the hand of a pickpocket in his clothes, and to obtain pardon the thief reveals to him a plot to set upon Lignière at the Porte do Nesle. So Christian goes to warn Lignière. Meanwhile Cyrano and Valvert cross swords, and the latter is wounded. Cyrano confesses to LeBret his love for Roxane. Cyrano is informed that Roxane wishes to meet him next morning.
     In the second act this meeting takes place. It is at a fashionable cookshop’s, and Cyrano sits down at a table to write a note to Roxane confessing all. Roxane enters and thanks Cyrano f or the service done her and Christian the night before. She asks Cyrano to shield Christian with his invincible sword, because she loves him. Cyrano becomes depressed because of Roxane’s confidences, especially as she does not scruple to admit her partiality for Christian. Guiche comes in, and Cyrano purposely offends him. Guiche is afraid to pick a quarrel with him, Christian, not knowing that Roxane has pleaded with her cousin to protect him, and being tired of serving forever as the butt for his fellow — cadets in the regiment, taunts Cyrano with the size and shape of his nose. Cyrano, although angered greatly, controls his wrath for the sake of his beloved Roxane. Left alone with Christian, Cyrano tells the young lover that he is conversant with all the facts, and that Roxane expects a letter from him. Christian is crestfallen, admits that writing is not his strong point, and then Cyrano offers him the letter he had written, but never delivered, to Roxane, telling him that it will do very well under the circumstances.
     In Act III Guiche bids adieu to Roxane, being commanded to go with his regiment in defense of the town of Arras. Since her own lover, as one of the cadets, forms part’ of that regiment, she fears that Guiche may mean harm to Christian. So she impresses him with the notion that it would be wise to leave Cyrano’s company behind, thus frustrating the latter’s ambitious plans. Guiche does so. Cyrano, out of regard for his pledged word, makes love for Christian, deftly plying his powers of vicarious seduction until Roxane kisses the youth in Cyrano’s very presence. Guiche returns, but Cyrano delays his interference long enough to have a priest pronounce Christian and Roxane man and wife. Out of revenge Guiche at once orders the young husband off to active service, to aid in the siege of Arras.
     The last act shows the cadets, with Christian among them, before Arras. Famine is weakening their ranks. D awn breaks and the reveille is heard. Guiche, more hated than ever, rebukes his troops fiercely. Cyrano comments on the injustice of it. There is a conversation between Christian and Cyrano, in which the former, unaware hitherto of Cyrano’s passion for Roxane, comes to realize it. Roxane appears. She has all along received from her young husband letters so affectionate and highsouled as to make her fall in love with him deeper and deeper, but letters, unknown to her, every one of which was written by Cyrano. She is now resolved to join Christian in the field at all hazards. Full of overflowing enthusiasm she tells her husband. that she would love him if he were ugly. Christian at last sees clearly that it is not himself in reality whom his wife loves, but the author of those letters, Cyrano. He frankly tells Cyrano about this. Then an assault is made by the foe, and Christian is killed. Cyrano rushes off to take part in the fight. Then there is a change of scene. When the battle ends LeBret is seen carrying Cyrano, mortally wounded, to a convent close by, and Roxane likewise goes there to join him.