THE STANDARD OPERAGLASS

CHARLES ANNESLEY

JEAN DE PARIS

Comic Opera in three acts by Adrien Boieldieu

Text by St. Just

     After a lapse of many years this spirited little opera has again been put upon the stage, and its success has shown that true music never grows old.
     Next to the “Dame blanche” “Jean de Paris” is decidedly the best of Boieldieu’s works; the music is very graceful, fresh, and lively, and the plot, though simple and harmless, is full of chivalric honor and very winning.
     The scene takes us back to the 17th century, and we find ourselves in an inn of the Pyrenees.
     The young and beautiful Princess of Navarre, being widowed, and her year of mourning having passed, is induced by her brother, the King of Navarre, to marry again. The French Crown Prince has been selected by the two courts as her future husband, but both parties are of a somewhat romantic turn of mind, and desire to know each other before being united for life.
     For this purpose the Prince undertakes a journey to the Pyrenees, where he knows the Princess to be.
     In the first scene we see preparations being made for the reception of the Princess, whose arrival has been announced by her Seneschal. In the midst of the bustle there enters a simple page to demand rooms for his master. As he is on foot, the host treats him spitefully, but his daughter Lorezza, pleased with his good looks, promises him a good dinner. While they are still debating, the numerous suite of the Prince comes up and, without further ado, takes possession of the house and stables which have been prepared for the Princess and her people. The host begins to feel more favorably inclined towards the strange Seigneur, though he does not understand how a simple citizen of Paris (this is the Prince’s incognito) can afford such luxury.
     By the time “Monsieur Jean de Paris “ arrives the host’s demeanor has entirely changed, and seeing two large purses with gold, he abandons the whole house to the strange guest, hop­ing that he shall have prosecuted his journey before the arrival of the Princess. But he has been mistaken, for no sooner are Jean de Paris’s people quartered in the house than the Seneschal, a pompous Spanish Grandee, arrives to announce the coming of the Princess. The host is hopelessly embarrassed, and the Seneschal rages at the impudence of the citizen, but Jean do Paris quietly intimates that the house and everything in it are hired by him, and courteously declares that he will play the host and invite the Princess to his house and dinner.
     While the Seneschal is still stupefied by such unheard-of impudence, the Princess arrives, and at once takes everybody captive by her grace and loveliness. Jean de Paris is fascinated, and the Princess, who instantly recognizes in him her future bridegroom, is equally pleased by his appearance, but resolves to profit and to amuse herself by her discovery.
     To the Seneschal’s unbounded surprise she graciously accepts Jean’s invitation.
     In the second act the preparations for the dinner of the honored guests have been made. Olivier, the page, shows pretty Lorezza the minuets of the ladies at court, and she dances in her simple country fashion, until Olivier seizes her, and they dance and sing together.
     Jean de Paris, stepping in, sings an air in praise of God, beauty, and chivalry, and when the Princess appears, he leads her to dinner, to the unutterable horror of the Seneschal. Dinner, service, plate, silver, all is splendid, and all belongs to Jean do Paris, who sings a tender minstrel’s song to the Princess. She sweetly answers him, and telling him that she has already chosen her knight, who is true, honest, and of her own rank, makes him stand on thorns for a while, lest he be too late, until he perceives that she only teases in order to punish him for his own comedy. Finally they are enchanted with each other, and when the people come up, the Prince, revealing his true name, presents the Princess as his bride, bidding his suite render homage to their mistress. The Seneschal humbly asks forgiveness, and all unite in a chorus in praise of the beautiful pair.

JESSONDA

Opera in three acts by Louis Spohr

Text by Henry Gehe

     Spohr wrote this opera by way of inauguration to his charge as master of the court chapel at Cassel, and with it he added to the fame which he had long before established as master of the violin and first-rate composer. His music is sublime, and sheds a wealth of glory on the somewhat imperfect text.
     The story introduces us to Goa, on the coast of Malabar, at the beginning of the 16th century.
     A Rajah has just died, and is bewailed by his people, and Jessonda, his widow, who was married to the old man against her will, is doomed to be burnt with him, according to the country’s laws. Nadori, a young priest of the God Brahma, is to announce her fate to the beautiful young widow. But Nadori is not a Brahmin by his own choice; he is young and passionate, and though it is forbidden to him to look at women, he at once falls in love with Jessonda’s sister Amazili, whom he meets when on his sad errand. He promises to help her in saving her beloved sister from a terrible death.
     Jessonda meanwhile hopes vainly for the arrival of the Portuguese General, Tristan d’Acunha, to whom she pledged her faith long ago, when a cruel fate separated her from him. She knows that the Portuguese are at this moment besieging Goa, which formerly belonged to them. Jessonda is accompanied by her women through the Portuguese camp, to wash away in the floods of the Ganges the last traces of earthliness. She sacrifices a rose to her early love.
     Turning back into the town, she is recognized by Tristan, but, alas, a truce forbids him to make an assault on the town in order to deliver his bride. Jessonda is led back in triumph by the High-priest Daudon, to die an untimely death.
     In the third act Nadori visits Tristan in secret, to bring the welcome news that Daudon himself broke the truce, by sending two spies into the enemy’s camp to burn their ships. This act of treachery frees Tristan from his oath. Nadori conducts him and his soldiers through subterranean passages into the tem­ple, where he arrives just in time to save Jessonda from the High-priest’s sword. She gives him hand and heart, and Nadori is united to her sister Amazili.

JOSEPH IN EGYPT

Opera in three acts by Etienne Henry Mehul

Text after Alexander Duval

     This opera, which has almost disappeared from the French stage, is still esteemed in Germany, and always will be so, because, though clad in the simplest garb, and almost without any external outfit, its music is grand, noble, and classic; it equals the operas of Gluck, whose influence may be traced, but it is free from all imitation. Here we have true music, and the deep strain of patriarchal piety, so touching in the Biblical recital, finds grand expression.
     Joseph, the son of Jacob, who was sold by his brothers, has by his wisdom saved Egypt from threatening famine; he resides as governor in Memphis under the name of Cleophas. But though much honored by the King and all the people, he never ceases to long for his old fa­ther, whose favorite child he was.
     Driven from Palestine by this same famine, Jacob’s sons are sent to Egypt to ask for food and hospitality. They are tormented by pangs of conscience, which Simeon is hardly able to conceal, when they are received by the governor, who at once recognized them. Seeing their sor­row and repentance, he pities them, and promises to receive them all hospitably. He does not reveal himself, but goes to meet his youngest brother Benjamin and his blind father, whose mourning for his lost son has not been dimin­ished by the long years. Joseph induces his father and brother to partake in the honors which the people render to him. The whole family is received in the governor’s palace, where Simeon, consumed by grief and con­science-stricken, at last confesses to his father the selling of Joseph. Full of horror, Jacob curses and disowns his ten sons. But Joseph intervenes. Making himself known, he grants full pardon and entreats his father to do the same.
     The old man yields, and together they praise God’s providence and omnipotence.

LA JUIVE (THE JEWESS)

Grand Opera in five acts by Halevy

Text by Eugene Scribe

     This opera created a great sensation when it first appeared on the stage of the Grand Opera at Paris in the year 1835, and it has never lost its attraction. It was one of the first grand operas to which brilliant misc en scène, gorgeous decorations, etc., added success.
     Halévy’s great talent lies in orchestration, which is here rich and effective; his style, half French, half Italian, is full of beautiful effects of a high order.
     The libretto is one of the best which was ever written by the dextrous and fertile Scribe.
     The scene of action is laid in Constance, in the year 1414, during the Council.
     In the first act the opening of the Council is celebrated with great pomp.
     The Catholics, having gained a victory over the Hussites, Huss is to be burnt, and the Jews, equally disliked, are oppressed and put down still more than before. All the shops are closed, only Eleazar, a rich Jewish jeweller, has kept his open, and is therefore about to be imprisoned and put to death, when Cardinal de Brogni intervenes, and saves the Jew and his daughter Recha from the people’s fury. The Cardinal has a secret hiking for Eleazar, though he once banished him from Rome. He hopes to gain news from him of his daughter, who was lost in ear]y childhood. But Eleazar hates the Cardinal bitterly. When the mob is dispersed, Prince Leopold, the Imperial Commander-in-Chief, approaches Rech a. Under the assumed name of Samuel he has gained her affections, and she begs him to be present at a religious feast, which is to take place that evening at her father’s house. The act closes with a splendid procession of the Emperor and all his dignitaries. Ruggiero, the chief judge in Constance, seeing the hated Jew and his daugh­ter amongst the spectators, is about to seize them once more, when Prince Leopold steps between and delivers them, to Recha’s great astonishment.
     In the second act we are introduced to a great assembly of Jews, men and women, assisting at a religious ceremony. Samuel is there with them. The holy act is, however, interrupted by the Emperor’s niece, Princess Eudora, who comes to purchase a golden chain, which once belonged to the Emperor Constantin, and which she destines for her bridegroom, Prince Leopold. Eleazar is to bring it himself on the following day. Samuel, overhearing this, is full of trouble. When the assembly is broken up and all have gone, he returns once more to Recha, and finding her alone, confesses that he is a Christian. Love prevails over Rocha’s filial devotion, aud she consents to fly with her lover, but they are surprised by Eleazar. Hearing of Samuel’s falseness, he first swears vengeance, but, mollified by his daughter’s entreaties, he only bids him marry Recha. Samuel refuses, and has to leave, the father cursing him, Recha bewailing her lover’s falseness.
     In the third act we assist at the Imperial ban­quet. Eleazar brings the chain, and is accom­panied by Recha, who at once recognizes in Eudora’s bridegroom her hover, Samuel. She denounces the traitor, accusing him of living in unlawful wedlock with a Jewess, a crime which is punishable by death.
     Leopold (alias Samuel) is outlawed, the Cardinal Brogni pronounces the anathema upon all three, and they are put into prison.
     In the fourth act Eudora visits Recha in prison, and by her prayers not only overcomes Rocha’s hate, but persuades her to save Leopold by declaring him innocent. Recha, in her noblemindedness, pardons Leopold and Eudora, and resolves to die alone.
     Meanwhile the Cardiual has an interview with Eleazar, who tells him that he knows the Jew who onco saved the Cardinal’s little daughter from the flames. Brogni vainly entreats him to reveal the name. He promises to save Recha, should Eleazar be willing to abjure his faith, but the latter remains firm, prepared to die.
     In the fifth act we hear the clamors of the people, who furiously demand the Jew’s death.
     Ruggiero announces to father and daughter the verdict of death by fire. Loopold is set free through Rocha’s testimony. When in view of the funeral pile, Eleazar asks Recha if she would prefer to live in joy and splendor and to accept the Christian faith, but she firmly answers in the negative. Then she is led on to death, and she is just plunged into the glowing furnace when Eloazar, pointing to her, in­forms the Cardinal that the poor victim is his long-lost daughter; then Eleazar follows Recha into the flames, while Brogni falls back senseless.

JUNKER HEINZ (SIR HARRY)

Opera in three acts by Karl von Perfall

Text after Hertz’s poem, “Henri of Suabia,”
by Franz Grandour

     This opera, composed recently by the Superintendent of the Royal Opera in Munich, has made its way to the most renowned stages in Germany, which proves that the composition is not a common one.
     Indeed, though it is not composed in the large style to which we are now accustomed from hearing so much of Wagner, the music is interesting, particularly so because it is entirely original and free from reminiscences. There are some little masterpieces in it which deserve to become popular on account of their fresh­ness; wit and humor, however, are not the composer’s “forte,” and so the first act, in which the vagabonds present themselves, is by far the least interesting.
     The libretto is very well done; it has made free use of Hertz’s pretty poem.
     The scene is laid in the beginning of the eleventh century. The first act lands us near Ess­lingen, in Suabia, the two following near Speier.
     Three swindlers concoct a plot to acquire wealth by robbing the Emperor’s daughter. To this end, one of them, Marudas, a former clerk, has forged a document, in which the Emperor of Byzantium asks for the hand of Agnes, daughter of Conrad, Emperor of Germany, who, just approaching with his wife Gisela, is received with acclamation by the citizens of Esslingen. Soon after, the three vaga­bonds appear in decent clothes, crying for help; they pretend to have been attacked and robbed by brigands. Boccanera, the most insolent of them, wears a bloody bandage round his head. The document is presented to the Emperor, who turns gladly to his wife and tells her of the flattering offer of the Greek Prince. After he has ordered that the ambassador be taken good care of, the Emperor is left alone with his wife. She tenderly asks him why he always seems so sorrowful and gloomy, and after a first evasive answer, he confides to his faithful wife what oppresses him.
     Twenty years ago he gave orders to kill a little infant, the son of his deadliest enemy, Count of Calw, his astronomer Crusius having prophesied that this child would wed the Emperor’s daugh­ter and reign after him. The remembrance of this cruelty now torments him, but Gisela con­soles her husband, hoping and praying that God will pardon the repentant sinner. During this intercourse, a young man comes up, entreatiug the Emperor to read a document which was given to the youth by his dying uncle and destined for the Emperor. As Conrad reads it, he learns that this youth is the child he would have had killed years ago, and who was carried to the forester house and brought up there. The Emperor and his wife thank Heaven that they have been spared so dreadful a sin, but Conrad, afraid of the prophecy, determines to send the young man, who is called Junker Heinz, away. lie gives him a document, in which he orders Count Gerold, governor of Speier, to give his daughter to the three am­bassadors of the Emperor of Byzantium.
     In the second act we see Agnes, the Emperor’s daughter, working and singing with her damsels. She is well guarded by old Hiltrudis, but the worthy lady is obliged to leave for some days, and departs with many exhortations. Hardly has she gone than all the working material disappears, and the maidens begin to sing and frolic. The appearance of Junker Heinz frightens them away. Heinz, who has ridden long, thinks to take a little rest, now that he sees the towers of Speier before him. He stretches himself on a mossy bank and is soon asleep. Shortly afterwards, the Princess Agnes peeps about with her companion Bertha. She is highly pleased with the appearance of the strange hunter, and seeing him asleep, she gazes at him, until she insensibly falls in love with him. Observing the document which the stranger has in his keeping, she takes and reads it, and, disgusted with its contents, throws it into the fountain, quickly fetching another parchment which was once given to her by her father, and which contains both permission to wish for something and her father’s promise to grant her wish.
     When Heinz awakes, and finds the loveliest of the maidens beside him, he falls as deeply in love as the young lady, but their tender interview is soon interrupted by the blowing of hunters’ horns.
     In the third act Count Gerold, who has come with a suite to accompany the Princess on a hunt, is presented with the Emperor’s document by Heinz, who cannot read, and who is wholly ignorant of the change which Agnes has made. Though greatly astonished at the Emperor’ s command to wed Agnes to the bringer of his letter, Count Gerold is accustomed to obey, and Heinz, who first refuses compliance with the strange command, at once acquiesces when he sees that his lady-love and the Princess are one and the same person. About to go to church, they are detained by the Emperor, who scornfully charges Heinz with fraud.
     But when Count Gerold presents the document, his scorn turns on Agnes and he orders her to a convent. Heinz fervently entreats the Emperor to pardon Agnes, and takes a tender farewell of her. On the point of departing for ever, he sees the three ambassadors, whom he recognizes and loudly denounces as robbers and swindlers. Boccanera is obliged to own that his wound came from Junker Heinz, who caught him stealing sheep. They are led to prison, while the Emperor, grateful to Heinz for his daughter’s delivery from robbers, gives her to him and makes Heinz Duke of Suabia, persuaded that it is useless to fight against that which the stars have prophesied.

LE JONGLEUIR DE NOTRE DAME
(THE JUGGLER OF NOTRE DAME)

Opera by Jules Massenet

     The plot of the libretto of this opera is similar to that employed by the writers of the miracle plays of the middle ages. Not that the story is in any way the story of one of these miracle plays, but a miracle is employed to give dramatic value to the denouement. Maurice Lena, the writer of the book of the libretto, calls it "a miracle play," and, in a sense, the phrase is applicable; but the old miracle plays were altogether interpretative in their character and were acted to satisfy the demand of the time for a more objective presentation of religious ideas. In this sense "Le Jongleur de Notre Dame" is not a miracle play, but a play with a miracle. This opera, by Jules Massenet, was first produced in Paris, in 1903.
     The first act takes place in one of the squares of Cluny - a suburb of Paris - some time in the fourteenth century. It is the first day of the month of Marie, or May Day, and the people are about to celebrate the occasion in front of the monastery. Citizens and their wives, knights and their squires, peasants, priests, women, and common people are seen coming and going through the marketplace. Among those to arrive is Jean, a poor juggler, who performs his tricks for their gratuities, and who makes the people laugh by his remarks and performances. He is asked to sing a drinking song, and Jean, loth to do it, yet anxious to earn his day’s expenses, asks pardon of the Virgin before he complies with the people’s request. Jean barely gets through three of the verses of his parody on the Paternoster, Aye, and Credo, when the door of the convent opens violently and the Prior steps out in anger. The people run away in fear, leaving Jean, alone and amazed, with the Prior. The Prior turns on Jean and scolds him for his wicked ways, threatening him with the fires "of formidable hell" if he mend not his life. Jean, terrified, falls to the ground in an agony of supplication and craves pardon at the foot of the Virgin’s statue. The Prior, seeing Jean humbling himself, thinks that a convert may be made of the man. He promises Jean pardon if he will change his life, and asks him to become a monk, instead of going about as a vagabond. Jean. pleads for his liberty. While he is still young liberty, the "careless fay of the golden smile," is very dear to his heart. The two are interrupted by the entrance of Boniface, the cook of the monastery, mounted on a donkey which carries also the provisions for the monks’ refectory. The sight of the provisions does for Jean what all the Prior’s arguments failed to do. He consents to become a monk, and follows Prior and Boniface into the monastery, though not before he has retained possession of his juggler’s outfit.
     The second act takes place in the abbey’s study room, which opens on the garden of the monastery.. A picture of the Virgin is well in sight, on which a monk is at work, finishing it in colors. The musician monk is rehearsing a hymn to the Virgin with a number of other monks who are grouped around him. It is the morning of Assumption Day. Jean, musing sadly by himself, is bewailing that he cannot sing praises to the Virgin in Latin, because he does not know that language, and she would not understand him if he spoke to her in common French. He knows nothing but the refectory, and begs the Prior to turn him away for fear he bring ill-luck. The monks beg Jean to take to their arts. One asks him to be a painter, another a sculptor, still another a musician. They quarrel with each other over the merits of their respective arts, and almost come to blows in the heat of their discussions. The Prior intervenes and orders them all to chapel, there to ‘practice humility. Jean gets into a conversation with Bonif ace and deplores his ignorance and bewails the fact that he can do nothing to please the Virgin. Boniface, to comfort and encourage him, tells him that the Virgin understands French also and that she is as good as a sister. He tells him a story of how a common sage plant saved the life of Jesus when he was being pursued by the bloody cavalier of the King, the child-killer. Jean is much moved, and finally is convinced that his prayers, even if offered in vulgar French, may reach as high as the King’s. Advancing toward the picture, Jean lifts his eyes toward Heaven and prays, remaining in an attitude of ecstatic devotion as the curtain falls, the orchestra playing, the while, the mystic pastorale that unites the two acts.
     The curtain rises on the third act discovering the chapel of the Abbey. On the altar, and plainly visible, is the painted picture of the Virgin. Jean is present with his juggler’s outfit, but so placed that he can be seen without his perceiving those who see him. In the distance the monks are singing the hymn to the Virgin. In front of the picture, and alone, is the Painter Monk. He gives a last look at his handiwork, and, noticing Jean entering, hides behind a column. Jean enters on tiptoe and approaches the altar. He tells the picture that, knowing naught else but his trade by which to do her honor, he will go through the performance of his craft under her eyes, in order that she may take it as an expression of his devotion. Dropping his monk’s robe, he shows himself in the vest of a juggler. Then, spreading his carpet, he takes out his playing instrument and plays the same tune he played in the market-place of Cluny. The Painter Monk, thinking Jean has gone crazy, runs off to bring the Prior. Jean, bowing to the Virgin, begins his performance, interrupting himself to tell her that some of his songs are hardly fit for her ears. Still, he intends to be entirely respectful toward her. He then sings the pastoral. While he is singing, the Prior, led by the Painter Monk, arrives on the scene with Boniface, the cook. They are unseen by Jean, who still continues with his juggling performance, but the Prior and his monks can easily see him. Several times the scandalized Prior attempts as if to rush forward and put a stop to the sacrilege that is taking place; but he is withheld by Bonif ace. Jean, in the meantime, has arrived at that stage of his perform-ance when it is his business to dance. He begins the dance of a country step, with tapping of feet and exclamations of enjoyment. Faster and faster he dances until, tired out, he falls at the feet of the Virgin and prostrates himself in profound adoration. The monks, who have, in the meantime, come in, seeing this performance, cry "Sacrilige!" Just when they can no longer restrain themselves, the face of the Virgin in the picture is seen to become animated; her arms extend towards the praying and worshipping Jean. It is Bonif ace who draws the attention of the monks to this wonder, and when they see it they cry, "Oh, miracle!" Voices of invisible angels are heard singing "Hosannah!" and the monks, led by the Prior, approach the prostrate Jean. Jean rises, and, seeing himself surprised in the costume of the juggler, falls on his knees before the Prior for pardon. The Prior bids him rise. "‘Tis for me to he at your knees," he says to Jean. "You are a great saint; pray for us." Jean, thinking he is being mocked, begs to be punished, but the Prior asks him how can he mock the honor of the monastery when he sees with his own eyes the Virgin bless him. The altar, until now dimly lighted, is illumined by an intense light, while the nimbus of the chosen, detaching itself from the hands of the Virgin, sparkles over the head of Jean. Jean, as if stricken to the heart, dies in an ecstacy of exaltation, while the monks recite litanies. The final scene shows the Virgin mounting slowly to Heaven.

THE JEWELS OF THE MADONNA

Dramatic Opera in three acts. Music by Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari

Book by C. Zangarini and B. Golisciani

     First performance at Berlin, 1911. The scene is Naples of the present day. The plot is simple, hinging on a popular superstition of the lower class Neapolitans, and on the jealousy between a wayward girl’s two lovers.
     In Act I it is the afternoon of a great procession in honor of the Holy Virgin. Maliella, beautiful and high-spirited, but a creature of impulse alone, escapes from her quiet home, with dress disordered and hair flying, in order to join a joyous crowd dancing and shouting on a small public square near the sea, and awaiting the passing of the festival procession. Gennaro, her foster-brother, who secretly adores her, has followed her from his home, and endeavors to induce her to come hack with him. She indulges in banter and flatly refuses to obey, then sings a song of challenge, in which she dares the youths present to rob her of a kiss. She resents Gennaro’s interference, and he vainly tries to control her reckless gaiety. On the square meanwhile a dance is improvised, and Maliella rushes into the crowd where she disappears for the moment from view. Raffaelle, one of the chief Camorrists of Naples, notices the girl as she goes whirling in the mazes of the dance, and tries to seize and subdue her. She pushes him back, however, and when he uses physical force to make her do his bidding, she stabs him with her silver hairpin, wounding him in the hand. Instead of reproaching her, the Camorrist chief laughs, kisses the wound, and then picks up a flower and flings it so it falls into her bosom. But Maliella takes out the flower and casts it on the ground, trampling on it. Now the procession comes in sight, and while the others kneel Raffaelle remains by the side of the girl, pleading his love with her. As the image of the Madonna passes by, adorned and loaded with precious stones, he whispers to her that to win her love he is even ready to risk his soul by snatching the jewels of the Madonna from its neck and placing it around her own fair shoulders. But Maliella is terrified at the thought, and shrieks out her horror. Raffaelle and his criminal followers merely laugh her to scorn, while she runs off towards home. He follows and as she is about to enter the house again, he throws another flower at her, which this time she receives in thoughtful mood, places between her lips and goes within.
     The second act passes at the house of Carmela, mother of Gennaro and Maliella’s foster-mother, on the evening of the same day. The festival is not yet over, and Carmela soon leaves them to retire. Gennaro left alone with Maliella, pleads his passion to her and vows his devotion. But the girl is wearied with it. She complains of the monotonous life she is condemned to lead in her humble home, and taunts Gennaro with the daring and generosity shown by the Camorrist lover, telling him at last of the supreme proof of affection offered by him to her, namely, the purloining of the very jewels of the Madonna for her sake. She threatens to leave her home for good. Gennaro begs for a farewell kiss, but the girl scornfully denies it, and speaks once more in high praise of Raffaelle. To cut short his weary plaints the girl escapes from him, and Gennaro now indulges his bitter reflections. It seems to him that nothing can win the love of Maliella save the very thing the Camorrist boasted of in advance, and he reaches the resolution to forestall Raffaelle and do the thing himself which the other merely meant to do. Maliella comes back, and he takes keys and his blacksmith tools with him, locks the garden gate, and leaves. Raffaelle arrives at the outside of the house to serenade the girl, bringing with him a host of his friends and fellow-Camorrists.
     The music and the words draw the girl into the garden, and the two embrace through the bars of the garden enclosure, avowing their mutual love. But Gennaro returns, pallid and sombre, and Raffaelle leaves the field to him. When she asks him the meaning of it all, Gennaro places the jewels of the Madonna around her neck, and after a moment’s hesitation Maliella looks at the glittering gems admiringly in the pale moonlight, and rejoices at possession of them.
     The last act occurs the next day, at the rendezvous of the Camorrists, where men and women are holding high revel. Some are alseep; and others are one by one returning from some secret expedition. Raffaelle appears with some of his close friends, and is greeted with shouts of applause. A while after he sings a song in praise of Maliella and her charms, whereat the women grow furious. Dancing follows, which degenerates into a wild orgy. Maliella, invited to join Raffaelle there, now rushes in in desperation, and on being asked the reason, confesses to the ownership of the far-famed jewels of the Madonna. All are horror-struck and call her accursed. When Raffaelle hears that Gennaro is the malefactor he summons his men and tells them to bring him in dead or alive,— to capture him at all costs. Then Gennaro himself enters, half demented, and is spurned alike by the girl and the band of criminals. The girl, in an access of despair, casts herself into the sea, and Gennaro, after adorning afresh the image of the Madonna with the stolen jewels, stabs himself to death at the altar.

LA JOTA

Tragic Opera in two acts by Manuel Laparra

Text by an anonymous Spanish writer

     The first performance of this work occurred at Paris in 1911. The theme of the text is taken from the Carlist wars in Northern Spain, and the name of the opera is that of a well-known Spanish dance.
     The scene of the first act is Anso, a place in the Spanish Pyrenees, and the time is 1835. Juan Zumarragua is a Basque, and though he is the lover of Soledad, a Spanish girl, he will not deny his race for love of her. They argue and quarrel on this point, and are about to separate, but finally there is a reconciliation, and they embrace. Juan, however, is summoned to arms, as the Carlist War has broken out. He follows the call, intending to do his duty as a soldier. So the two dance a last jota together and then bid each other good-by.
     Soledad, however, has bewitched Mosen Jago, a curate, who in vain attempts to save himself from the enthralment of her beauty.
     In the second act the Carlist forces have reached Anso, and the church building itself has been destroyed. The curate and his flock are ·crowded within around the shrine of the Virgin, but outside Soledad leads the attack, and the curate is defeated with his men. Among the victorious Carlists is also Juan. He has had to fight against his own brothers and friends. Soledad herself meets her lover in the throng, and there is a reunion. The curate is nailed to the cross by the Carlists.

Last updated October 21, 2006