THE STANDARD OPERAGLASS

CHARLES ANNESLEY

THE TAMING OF THE SHREW

Comic Opera in four acts by Hermann Goetz

Text done after Shakespeare’s comedy by J. V. Widmann

     This beautiful opera is the only one which the gifted young composer left complete, for line died of consumption in his early manhood. His death is all the more to be lamented, as this composition shows a talent capable of performances far above the average. Its melodies are very fresh and winning, and above all original.
     As the subject of the libretto is so generally known, it is not necessary to do more than shortly epitomize here. Of the libretto itself, however, it may be remarked, in passing, that it is uncommonly well done; it is in rhymes which are harmonious and well turned. The translation is quite free and independent, but the sense and the course of action are the same, though somewhat shortened and modified, so that we only find the chief of the persons we so well know.
     Kate is the same headstrong young lady, though she does not appear in a very bad light, her wilfulness being the result of maidenly pride, which is ashamed to appear ‘weak before the stronger sex. She finds her master in Petruchio, however, and after a hard and bitter fight with her feelings she at last avows herself conquered, less by her husband’s indomitable will than by her love for him, which acknowledges him as her best friend and protector.
     Then her trials are at an end, and when her sister Bianca, and her young husband, Lucentio, and her father, Baptista, visit her, they are witnesses of the perfect harmony and peace which reign in Kate’s home.

TANNHÄUSER

Romantic Opera in three acts by Richard Wagner

     With this opera begins a new era in the history of the German theatre. “Taunhäuser” is more a drama than an opera; every expression in it is highly dramatic. The management of the orchestra, too, is quite different from anything hitherto experienced; it dominates everywhere, the voice of the performer being often only an accompaniment to it. “Tannhäuser” is the first opera, or, as Wagner himself called it, drama, of this kind, and written after this one all Wagner ‘s works bear the same stamp.
     Wagner took his subject from an old legend, which tells of a minstrel called Tannhäuser (probably identical With Heinrich von Ofterdingen), who won all prizes by his beautiful songs and all hearts by his noble bearing. So the palm is allotted to him at the yearly “Tournament of Minstrels” on the Wartburg, and his reward is to be the hand of Elizabeth, niece of the Landgrave of Thuringia, whom he loves. But instead of behaving sensibly this erring knight suddenly disappears, nobody knows where, leaving his bride in sorrow and anguish. He falls into the hands of Venus, who holds court in the Hörselberg, near Eisenach, and Tannhäuser, at the opening of the first scene, has already passed a whole year with her. At length he has grown tired of sensual hove and pleasure, and notwithstanding Venus’ allurements he leaves her, vowing never to return to the goddess, but to expiate his sins by a holy life. He returns to the charming vale behind the Wartburg, he hears again the singing of the birds, the shepherds playing on the flute, the pious songs of the pilgrims on their way to Rome. Full of repentance he kneels down and prays, when suddenly the Landgrave appears with some minstrels, among them Wolfram von Eschinbach, Tannhäuser’s best friend. They greet their long-lost companion, who, however, cannot tell where he has been all the time, and as Wolfram reminds him of Elizabeth, Taunhäuser returns with the party to the Wartburg.
     It is just the anniversary of the Tournament of Minstrels, and in the second act we find Elizabeth with Tannhäuser, who craves her pardon and is warmly welcomed by her. The high prize for the best song is again to be Elizabeth’s hand, and Tannhäuser resolves to win her once more. The Landgrave chooses “love” as the subject whose nature is to be explained by the minstrels. Everyone is called by name, and Wolfram von Esehinbach begins, praising love as a well, deep and pure, a source of the highest and most sacred feeling. Others follow; Walther von der Vogelweide praises the virtue of love, every minstrel celebrates spiritual love alone.
     But Tannhäuser, who has been in Venus’ fetters, sings of another love, warmer and more passionate, but sensual. And when the others remonstrate, he loudly praises Venus, the goddess of heathen love. All stand aghast; they recognize now where he has been so long. He is about to be put to death, when Elizabeth prays for him. She loves him dearly and hopes to save his soul from eternal perdition. Tannhäuser is to join a party of pilgrims on their way to Rome, there to crave for the Pope’s pardon.
     In the third act we see the pilgrims return from their journey. Elizabeth anxiously expects her lover, but he is not among them. Fervently she prays to the Holy Virgin; but not that a faithful lover may be given back to her no, rather that he may be pardoned and his immortal soul saved. Wolfram is beside her, he loves the maiden, but he has no thought for himself; he only feels for her, whose life he sees ebbing swiftly away, and for his unhappy friend.
     Presently, when Elizabeth is gone, Tannhäuser comes up in pilgrim’s garb. He has passed a hard journey, full of sacrifices and castigation, and all for nought, for the Pope has rejected him. He has been told in hard words that he is for ever damned, and will as little get deliverance from his grievous sin as the stick in his hand will ever bear green leaves afresh.
     Full of despair Tannhäuser is returning to seek Venus, whose siren songs already fall alluringly on his ear. Wolfram entreats him to fly, and when Tannhäuser fails to listen, he utters Elizabeth’s name. At this moment a procession descends from the Wartburg, chanting a funeral song over an open bier. Elizabeth lies on it, dead, and Tannhäuser sinks on his knee beside her, crying: “Holy Elizabeth, pray for me.” Then Venus disappears, and all at once the withered stick begins to bud and blossom, and Tannhäuser, pardoned, expires at the side of his beloved.
     “Tannhäuser” was represented in the Dresden Theatre in June, 1890, according to Wagner’ s changes of arrangement, done by him in Paris, 1861, for the Grand Opera, by order of Napoleon III. This arrangement the composer acknowledges as the only correct one. These alterations are limited to the first scene in the mysterious abode of Venus, and his motives for the changes become clearly apparent when it is remembered that the simple form of “Tannhäuser” was composed in the years 1843 and ’45 in and near Dresden, at a time when there were neither means nor taste in Germany for such high-flown scenes like those which excited Wagner’s brain. Afterwards success rendered Wagner bolder and more pretentious, and so he endowed the person of Venus with more dramatic power, and thereby threw a vivid light on the great attraction she exercises on Tannhäuser. The decorations are by far richer and a ballet of sirens and fauns has been added, a concession which Wagner had to make to the Parisian taste. Venus’ part, now sung by the first prima donnas, has considerably gained by the alterations, and the first scene is far more interesting than before, but it is to be regretted that the Tournament of Minstrels has been shortened and particularly the fine song of Walther von der Wogelweide omitted by Wagner. All else is as of old, as indeed Elizabeth’s part needed nothing to add to her purity and loveliness, which stands out now in even bolder relief against the beautiful but sensual part of Venus.

GUGLIELMO TELL

Grand Opera in three acts by Rossini

     This last opera of Rossini’s is his most perfect work and it is deeply to be regretted that when it appeared he left the dramatic world, to live in comfortable retirement for thirty-nine years. How much he could still have done if he had chosen! In “Tell” his genius attains its full depth. Here alone we find the highly dramatic element united to the infinite richness of melody which we have learned to associate with his name and work.
     The text is founded on the well-known story of Tell, who delivered his Fatherland from one of its most cruel despots, the Austrian governor Gessler.
     The first act opens with a charming introductory chorus by peasants, who are celebrating a nuptial fête.
     Tell joins in their pleasure, though he cannot help giving utterance to the pain which the Austrian tyranny causes him. Arnold von Melchthal, son of an old Swiss, has conceived an unhappy passion for Mathilda, Princess of Hapsburg, whose life he once saved; but he is Swiss and resolved to be true to his country. He promises Tell to join in his efforts to liberate it. Meanwhile Leuthold, a Swiss peasant, comes up. He is a fugitive, having killed an Austrian soldier, to revenge an intended abduction of his daughter. His only safety lies in crossing the lake, but no fisherman dares to row out in the face of the coming storm. Tell steps forth and, seizing the oars, brings Leuthold safely to the opposite shore. When Rudolf von Harras appears with his soldiers, his prey has escaped and, nobody being willing to betray the deliverer, old father Melchthal is imprisoned.
     In the second act we find Princess Mathilda returning from a hunt. She meets Arnold, and they betray their mutual passion. Arnold does not yet know his father’s fate, but presently Tell enters with Walter Fürst, who informs Arnold that his father has fallen a victim to the Austrian tyranny. Arnold, cruelly roused from his love-dream, awakes to duty, and the three men vow bloody vengeance. This is the famous oath taken on the Rütli. The deputies of the three cantons arrive, one after the other, and Tell makes them swear solemnly to establish Switzerland’s independence. Excited by Arnold’s dreadful account of his father’s murder, they all unite in the fierce cry: “To arms!” which is to be their signal of combat.
     In the third act Gessler arrives at the marketplace of Altdorf, where he has placed his hat on a pole, to be greeted instead of himself by the Swiss who pass by.
     They grumble at this new proof of arrogance, but dare not disobey the order, till Tell, passing by with his son Gemmy, disregards it. Ref using to salute the hat, he is instantly taken and commanded by Gessler to shoot an apple off his little boy’s head. After a dreadful inward struggle Tell submits. Fervently praying to God, and embracing his fearless son, he shoots with steady hand, hitting the apple right in the centre. But Gessler has seen a second arrow, which Tell has hidden in his breast, and he asks its purpose. Tell freely confesses that he would have shot the tyrant had he missed his aim. Tell is fettered, Mathilda vainly appealing for mercy. But Gessler’s time has come. The Swiss begin to revolt. Mathilda herself begs to be admitted into their alliance of free citizens and offers her hand to Arnold. The fortresses of the oppressors fall. Tell enters free and victorious, having himself killed Gessler, and in a chorus at once majestic and grand the Swiss celebrate the day of their liberation.

THE TEMPLAR AND THE JEWESS

Opera in three acts by Henry Marschner

Text by W. A. Wohlbrück

     The subject of this opera is the well-known romance of “Ivanhoe,” by Sir Walter Scott. The poet understood pretty well how to make an effective picture with his somewhat too extensive and imposing material.
     Its chief defect lies in the conclusion, which is lacking in poetic justice and cannot be considered satisfactory, for the heroine Rebecca, who loves her knightly succorer, Ivanhoe, is only pitied by him, and so the difficulty of the situation is not solved to our liking. Apart from this defect, the opera is most interesting and we are won by its beautiful music, which may be called essentially chivalrous and therefore particularly adapted to the romantic text.
     In the opening scene we are introduced to the Knight Templar, Brian de Bois Gullbert, who has fallen in love with the beautiful Jewess Rebecca, and has succeeded in capturing and detaining her in his castle. At the same time Sir Cedric of Rotherwood, a Saxon knight (father of Ivanhoe, whom he has disinherited), has been taken captive with his ward, the Lady Rowena, by their enemies, the Norinans. Rebecca refuses to hear the Templar’s protestations of love, and threatens to precipitate herself from the parapet if he dares to touch her. Her wild energy conquers; and when he leaves her, Ivanhoe, the wounded knight to whom Rebecca is assigned as nurse, tells her that friends have come to deliver them all.
     The outlaws, commanded by Richard Coeur de Lion, under the guise of the Black Knight, assault the castle, burn it and deliver the captives. Poor Rebecca alone falls into the hands of the Templar, who does not cease to press his love suit. Brian’s deed soon becomes known, and his brother Templars, believing Brian to be innocent, but seduced by a sorceress, condemn Rebecca to the stake. She makes use of her right to ask for a champion, and is allowed till sunset to find one. Brian himself tries all he can to save her, but she rejects his aid, for she loves Ivanhoe, though she is well aware that this noble knight loves his beautiful cousin Rowena.
     The day has nearly passed, the funeral pile awaits its victim, and no champion appears. The trumpets sound for the last time, when Ivanhoe presents himself in the lists to fight Brian, Whom the Templars have appointed as his adversary. Ivanhoe is victorious; Brian falls lifeless, even before the enemy’s sword touches him. All recognize the judgment of God, and Rebecca is given back to her desolate father. At the last moment King Richard, who has long been absent on a crusade to Jerusalem, appears on the scene. He announces that hence­forth he alone will govern the land and punish all injustice. Ivanhoe and Rowena are united by consent of Sir Cedric, who is now wholly reconciled to his valorous son.

LA TRAVIATA (OR VIOLETTA)

Opera in three acts by Verdi

Text taken from the French by Piave

     The original of the libretto is Dumas’ celebrated novel “La dame aux camélias.”
     The opera is, like all of Verdi’s works, full of melody, and there are numberless special beauties in it. The prelude which opens the opera, instead of an overture, is in particular an elegy of a noble and interesting kind. But as the text is frivolous and sensual, of course the music cannot be expected to be wholly free from these characteristics.
     The scene is laid in and near Paris. Alfred Germont is passionately in love with Violetta Valery, one of the most frivolous beauties in Paris. She is pleased with his sincere passion, anything like which she has never hitherto known, and openly telling him who she is, she warns him herself; but he loves her all the more, and, as she returns his passion, she abandons her gay life and follows him into the country, where they live very happily for some months.
     Annina, Violetta’s maid, dropping a hint to Alfred that her mistress is about to sell her house and carriage in town in order to avoid expenses, he departs for the capital to prevent this.
     During his absence Violetta receives a visit from Alfred’s father, who tries to show her that she has destroyed not only his family’s but his son’s happiness by suffering Alfred to unite himself to one so dishonored as herself. He succeeds in convincing her, and, broken-hearted, she determines to sacrifice herself and leave Alfred secretly. Ignoring the possible reason for this inexplicable action, Alfred is full of wrath and resolves to take vengeance. He finds Violetta in the house of a former friend, Flora Bervoix, who is in a position similar to that of Violetta. The latter, having no other resources and feeling herself at death’s door (a state of health snggested in the first act by an attack of suffocation), has returned to her former life.
     Alfred insults her publicly. The result is a duel between her present adorer, Baron Dauphal, and Alfred.
     From this time on Violetta declines rapidly, and in the last act, which takes place in her sleeping room, we find her dying. Hearing that Alfred has been victorious in the duel, and receiving a letter from his father, who is now willing to pardon and to accept her as his daughter-in-law, she revives to some extent and Alfred, who at last hears of her sacrifice, returns to her, but only to afford a last glimpse of happiness to the unfortunate woman, who expires, a modern Magdalen, full of repentance, and striving tenderly to console her lover and his now equally desolate father.

TRISTAN AND ISOLDA

Lyric Drama in three acts by RICHARD WAGNER

     The music to this drama is deemed by connoisseurs the most perfect ever written by Wagner, but it needs a fine and highly cultivated understanding of music to take in all its beauty and greatness. There is little action in it, and very often the orchestra has the principal part, so that the voice seems little more than an accompaniment; it has musical measures, too, which cannot be digested by an uneducated hearer, but, nevertheless, many parts of it will interest everyone.
     Isolda’s love song, for instance, is the noblest hymn ever sung in praise of this passion.
     The first act represents the deck of a ship, where we find the two principal persons, Tristan and Isolda together. Tristan, a Cornish hero, has gone over to Ireland, to woo the Princess for his old uncle, King Marke. Isolda, however, loves Tristan, and has loved him from the time when he was cast sick and dying on the coast of Ireland and was rescued and nursed by her, though he was her enemy. But Tristan, having sworn faith to his uncle, never looks at her, and she, full of wrath that he wooes her for another instead of for himself, attempts to poison herself and him by a potion. But Brangëna,
     her faithful attendant, secretly changes the poisoned draught for a love potion, so that they are inevitably joined in passionate love. Only when the ship lands, its deck already covered with knights and sailors, who come to greet their King’s bride, does Brangëna confess her fraud, and Isolda, hearing that she is to live, faints in her attendant’s arms.
     In the second act Isolda has been wedded to Marke, but the love potion has worked well, and she has secret interviews at night with Tristan, whose sense of honor is deadened by the fatal draught. Brangëna keeps watch for the lovers, but King Marke’s jealous friend Melot betrays them, and they are found out by the good old King, who returns earlier than he had intended from a hunt.
     Tristan is profoundly touched by the grief of the King, whose sadness at losing faith in his most noble warrior is greater than his wrath against the betrayer of honor. Tristan, unable to defend himself, turns to Isolda, asking her to follow him into the desert, but Melot opposes him, and they fight, Tristan falling back deadly wounded into his faithful servant Kurvenal’s arms.
     The third act represents Tristan’s home in Brittany, whither Kurvenal has carried his wounded master in order to nurse him. Isolda, so skilled in the art of healing wounds, has been sent for, but they look in vain for the ship which is to bring her.
     When at last it comes into sight, Tristan, who awakes from a long swoon, sends Kurvenal away, to receive his mistress, and as they both delay their coming his impatient longing gets the better of him. Forgetting his wound, be rises from his couch, tearing away the bandages, and so Isolda is only just in time to catch him in her arms, where he expires with her name on his lips. While she bewails her loss, another ship is announced by the shepherd’s horn. King Marke arrives, prepared to pardon all and to unite the lovers. Kurvenal, seeing Melot advance, mistakes them for foes, and running his sword through Melot’s breast, sinks, himself deadly wounded, at his master’s feet. King Marke, to whom Brangëna has confessed her part in the whole matter, vainly laments his friend Tristan, while Isolda, waking from her swoon and seeing her lover dead pours forth rapturous words of greeting and brokenhearted, sinks down dead at his side.

DER TROMPETER VON SÄKKINGEN
(THE TRUMPETER OF SAEKKINGEN)

Opera in three acts, with a prelude, by Victor Nessler

Text by Rudolf Bunge after Scheffel’s poem

     Seldom in our days is an opera such a complete success in all German theatres as this composition of Nessler’s has proved to be. To tell the truth, it owes its popularity in great degree to the libretto, which has taken so many fine songs and ideas from its universally known and adored original. Nessler’s “Trompeter” is, however, in every way inferior to Scheffel’s celebrated poem.
     Nevertheless, the music, though not very pro­found, is pleasing, and there are several airs in it which have already become popular.
     The prelude opens at Heidelberg, where a chorus of students make a great noise after one of their drinking bouts. They presently serenade the Princesa-Electress, and a law-student, named Werner, a foundling and the adopted son of a professor, distinguishes himself by a solo on the trumpet. He is heard by the trumpeter of the Imperial recruiting officers, who tries to win him, but without success, when suddenly the Rector Magnificus appears to assist the major-domo, and announces to the astounded disturbers of peace that they are dismissed from the university.
     Werner, taking a sudden resolution, accepts the press-money from Konradin the trumpeter, marches away with the soldiers, and the prelude is closed.
     The first act represents a scene at Säkkingen on the Rhine. There is a festival in honor of St. Fridolin, at which young Baroness Maria assists. She is insulted by the peasants and Werner protects her from them. She is much pleased by the noble bearing of the trumpeter, and so is her aunt, the Countess of Wildenstein, who detects a great resemblance between him and her son, who was stolen by gipsies in his childhood. The second scene takes us into the Baron’s room, where we find the gouty old gentleman in rather a bad humor. He is restored to good temper by a letter from his friend the Count of Wildenstein, who lives separated from his first wife, the above-mentioned Countess, and who proposes his son, born in second wedlock, as Maria’s husband.
     The Baron receives Maria kindly, when she relates her adventure and begs him to engage Werner as trumpeter in the castle. At this moment the latter is heard blowing his instrument, and the Baron, who has a great predilection for it, bids Werner present himself, and at once engages him.
     In the second act Werner gives lessons on the trumpet to the lovely Maria; of course the young people fall in love with each other, but the Countess watches them, until friend Konradin for once succeeds in drawing her aside, when there follows a glowing declaration of love on both sides. Unhappily it is interrupted by the Countess, who announces her discovery to the Baron. Meanwhile the destined bridegroom has arrived with his father. Damian, that is the young man’s name, is a simpleton, and Maria declares at once that she never will be his. But in the presence of the whole company, assembled for a festival, the Baron proclaims Maria Count Damian’s bride; to the over-bold Werner he forbids the castle.
     The last act opens with a siege of the castle by the rebellious peasants. Damian shows himself a coward. In the last extremity they are relieved by Werner, who drives the peasants back with his soldiers. He is wounded in the fray, and while the wound is being dressed a mole detected on his arm proclaims him the stolen child of Countess Wildenstein. All now ends in joy and happiness; the Baron is willing enough to give his daughter to the brave young nobleman and very glad to be rid of the cowardly Damian.

IL TROVATORE

Opera in four acts by Giuseppe Verdi

Text by Salvatore Commerano

     Though Verdi is far beneath his celebrated predecessors Rossini and Bellini, he is highly appreciated in his own country, and the Trovatore” counts many admirers not only in Italy but also abroad. This is easily accounted for by tile number of simple and catching melodies contained in his operas, and which have become so quickly popular that we hear them on every street-organ. Manrico’s romance, for example, is a good specimen of the work for which he is admired.
     The text of “Il Trovatore” is very gloomy and distressing.
     Two men of entirely different station and character woo Leonore, Countess of Sergaste. The one is Count Luna, the other a minstrel, named Manrico, who is believed to be the son of Azucena, a gipsy.
     Azucena has, in accordance with gipsy law, vowed bloody revenge on Count Luna, because his father, believing her mother to be a sorceress and to have bewitched one of his children, had the old woman burned. To punish the father for this cruelty Azucena took away his other child, which was vainly sought for. This story is told in the first scene, where we find the Count’s servants waiting for him, while he stands sighing beneath his sweetheart’s window. But Leonore’s heart is already captivated by Manrico’s sweet songs and his valor in tournament. She suddenly hears his voice, and in the darkness mistakes the Count for her lover, who, however, comes up just in time to claim her. The Count is full of rage, and there follows a duel in which Manrico is wounded, but though it is in his power to kill his enemy, he spares his life, without, however, being able to account for the impulse.
     In the second act, Azucena, nursing Manrico, tells him of her mother’s dreadful fate and her last cry for revenge, and confesses to having stolen the old Count’s son with the intention of burning him. But in her despair and confusion, she says, she threw her own child into the flames, and the Count’s son lived. Manrico is terrified, but Azucena retracts her words and regains his confidence, so that he believes her tale to have been but an outburst of remorse and folly.
     Meanwhile he hears that Leonore, to whom he was reported as dead, is about to take the veil, and he rushes away to save her. Count Luna arrives before the convent with the same purpose But just as he seizes his prey, Maurico comes up, and liberates with her the aid of his companions, while the Count curses them.
     Leonore becomes Manrico’s wife, but her happiness is short-lived.
     In the third act the Count’s soldiers succeed in capturing Azucena, in whom they recognize the burned gipsy’s daughter. She denies all knowledge of the Count’s lost brother, and as the Count hears that his successful rival is her son, she is sentenced to be burned. Ruiz, Manrico’s friend, brings the news to him. Maurice tries to rescue her, but is seized too, and condemned to die by the axe.
     In the fourth act Leonore offers herself to the Count as the price of freedom for the captives, but, determined to be true to her lover, she takes poison. She hastens to him, announcing his deliverance. Too late he sees how dearly she has paid for it, when, after sweet assurance of love and fidelity, she sinks dead at his feet.
     The Count, coming up and seeing himself deceived, orders Manrico to be put to death instantly.
     He is led away, and only after the execution does Azucena inform the Count that his murdered rival was Luna’s own long-sought brother.

LA TOSCA

Melodrama in three acts by Giacomo Puccini

Text by Sardou, Illica and Giacosa

     La Tosca was first presented at Covent Garden, London, in 1900, and though it was a gorgeous production it was not as well received as La Bohème. The libretto, which is taken from Sardou’s tragedy, is not one adapted to operatic treatment. It is cleverly orchestrated, however, and the intensely dramatic action is handled with considerable skill. The music is strong in effect, and original and vivacious in style.
     The scene is laid in Rome in the year 1800, and the first act presents the interior of the Church of Sant’ Andrea. Angelotti, an imprisoned consul of the Roman Republic, makes his escape with the assistance of his sister, and appears in ‘the church in prison garb, hunting for the key which she has hidden there for him. Just as he is about to make his escape, he hears footsteps approaching, and hastily conceals himself as Cavaradossi, an artist; enters the church and proceeds to paint a portrait of the Madonna. Cavaradossi, hearing a noise behind him, investigates, and discovers Angelotti, who proves to he an old friend of his. He promises to help him escape, but is interrupted by the entrance of Tosca, a celebrated songstress, who is madly in love with him. Hearing whispers she becomes suspicious, believing that Cavaradossi has played her false, but, after much persuasion, is finally induced to withdraw. Cavaradossi is then about to conduct his friend to his own villa, when the booming of cannon is heard, announcing the escape of the prisoner. They hurry out just as Scarpia, the chief of police, enters the church in search of Angelotti. Tosca returns hoping to see her artist lover, and the wily Scarpia, who is jealous of Cavaradossi and himself in love with Tosca, makes her believe that her lover has fled with another woman, by showing her a fan which has been left behind by the sister of Angelotti.
     The second act presents the apartments of Scarpia in Farnese Palace. Cavaradossi who has been captured in his villa, is brought before the Chief of Police, and, on being commanded to reveal the hiding place of Angelotti, denies all knowledge of the whereabouts of the fugitive. Scarpia, therefore, devises a fiendish plan to discover his secret. He orders Tosca to be brought before him, and she, having learned that it was the prisoner and not a rival that Cavaradossi had fled with, throws herself into his arms at finding him safe and unharmed. Scarpia, enraged and jealous, orders Cavaradossi to be taken to the torture chamber, and the distracted Tosca, hearing his groans of pain, is at last persuaded to reveal the hiding place of Angelotti. Cavaradossi is then brought in, bleeding and unconscious, and Scarpia gives the order for his execution.
     Tosca besecches him not to fulfil the order, and he promises to save her lover if she will grant him her favor. After vain prayer, she consents to his wish, under the condition that he will write out a passport to enable Cavaradossi and herself to leave the country in safety. Scarpia consents to her plan, but gives a secret order for Cavaradossi to be hung at sundown. He then proeceds to write out the passport, and while doing so Tosca steals up from the rear and stabs him in the back, making good her escape.
     The third act presents a cell in the Castle Sant Angelo, where Cavaradossi is imprisoned, awaiting his sentence. Tosca rushes in with the passport, and, after explaining how she killed Scarpia, tells him that the soldiers are to pretend to shoot him, and that he must fall as if really shot, after which she will take him secretly away in her carriage. He is placed against the wall, and after a volley of shots from the soldiers, falls as directed by Tosca. After the guard has disappeared she hurries to his side, only to find his body riddled with bullets. In an agony of grief she throws herself on his dead body. The soldiers entering at this moment accuse her of the murder of Scarpia, but she, eluding their efforts to seize her, leaps upon the parapet of the terrace,. and throws herself into space, before the horror-stricken soldiers are aware of her intention.

THE TALES OF HOFFMANN

A fantastic Opera in three acts by Jacques Offenbach

Of the many operas by the briUiant Jacques Offenbach this of "Hoffmann’s Tales" is acknowledged to be the masterpiece. Offenbach composed it during the summer of 1880, and became seriously ill before he had finally revised and orchestrated it. He himself felt it was the finest work he had done, and was most anxious to be present at its performance. But he was destined not to have his wish fulfilled. In October of 1880 Offenbach was dead, and the opera could not be got ready before the February of 1881, when it was given for the first time at the Opera Comique in Paris. The best judges of music consider this posthumous opera the work of a genius.
     It is charming in its grace and is filled with true poetic feeling. It is remarkable in its realization of the fantastic imagination of the tales themselves.
     The libretto, written in French by Jules Bar-bier, is founded on three tales by that poetically gifted and highly imaginative writer, E. Th. A. Hoffmann, whose "Tales" are classics in Germany.
The first act is really a prologue to the opera. Its scene is laid in Luther’s famous wine cellar in Nuremberg. When the curtain rises on the interior of the German inn a chorus of students praises the master of the tavern. Hoffmann, the hero of the opera, is also there drinking and carousing with the rest, but seemingly despondent and morose. He is asked by the students to sing them a song, and he begins to sing the weird ballad of "Klein-Zach," but instead of finishing the ballad he wanders off into a chant of praise for a beautiful woman. His comrades chaff him and tell him he is in love. He assures them that he has left love and such matters behind him. He is depressed because of his past unfortunate experiences and promises to tell them of his three love adventures which brought him to his present state of mind. The rest of the opera, with the exception of the Epilogue, is devoted to the enactment of the three adventures, and the first act begins with that of the first, the one relating to Olympia.
     In the first act the curtain rises and reveals the house of Spalanzani, the famous scientist. Hoffmann is in the house ostensibly as a pupil of the physiologist, but in reality to become acquainted with his beautiful daughter Olympia, whom he had only seen at a distance through a window. ‘Olympia is not Spalanzani’s daughter, but an automaton made by the scientist and his friend Coppelias. She is a doll that can sing, dance, and talk like a human being. It does this so successfully that the professor buys it from Coppelias in order to enrich himself by means of it. He pays his friend for it with a draft on a Jew, Elias by name, who, Spalanzani knows, will not meet the draft because he is a bankrupt. Coppelias has persuaded Hoffmann to buy a pair of spectacles through which to look at Olympia, and seeing her thus Hoffmann takes her for a beautiful living woman, and falls passionately in love with her. When left alone with her Hoffmann tells her of his passion, and in his ardor believes she returns his love, though she only answers him with "Ja, Ja." He tries to embrace her, but she trips away immediately he touches her. His friend Nickias, who knows of the truth of Olympia, tries to enlighten him, but Hoffmann is too exalted by love to understand or even to listen to him. At the entertainment which Spalanzani gives, Hoffmann engages Olympia in a dance, and the two dance on, faster and faster, until Hoffmann sinks to the floor in a swoon. In his fall the spectacles he is wearing are broken. Olympia, however, still keeps on dancing by herself, faster and faster, until she dances out of the room in spite of an attempt of Cochenille to stop her. Dr. Coppelias now enters in a rage with Spalanzani, having found that his draft had been dishonored and was worthless. He rushes into the room into which Olympia has disappeared. When Hoffmann recovers from his swoon he hears a tremendous noise as of breaking and smashing, and is amazed at Spalanzani bursting upon him with cries that Coppelias had destroyed his priceless automaton. It is then that Hoffmann learns that he has been in love with a mere doll. The guests, entering, confuse the poor fellow with shouts of laughter, the while Spalanzani and Coppelias are quarreling and abusing each other. Thus ends Hoff-mann’s first love adventure.
     The second deals with Giulietta, and the second act shows us her palace in Venice. She is in love with Schlemihl, but she nevertheless receives Hoffmann graciously, much to the disgust of Schlemihl. Nickias, Hoffmann’s friend, who is also courting the beautiful lady, warns him against her and thinks she is no better than she ought to be. Hoffmann laughs at Nickias and ridicules the suggestion that he would be likely to make love to a courtesan. Giulietta is really a creature of the magician Dapertutto, who is in truth the evil spirit maleficent towards Hoffmann in all the three adventures. Giulietta it is who for him has stolen Schlemihl’s shadow, and he now bribes her with a magic diamond to enslave Hoffmann so that she might get from him his reflection in a looking glass, as she got Schlemihl’s shadow. Dapertutto plays on her wounded vanity by telling her that Hoffmann has spoken disdainfully of her. Hoffmann is soon brought to her feet, and in a beautiful love-duet in which she succeeds by her wiles, they are surprised by the jealous Schlemihl. Giulietta promises Hoffmann the key of her room if he can get it from Schlemihl, her former lover. Hoffmann is then left alone with Schlemihl and Dapertutto, and demands the key of the former. When his demand is refused a duel follows, for which Dapertutto supplies Hoffmann with his own sword. Schlemihl is killed after a few passes, and Dapertutto disappears. A moment later Giulietta’s gondola is seen by him passing before the balcony, and he finds her leaning on Dapertutto’s arm, singing a mocking farewell to him. Thus ends Hoff-mann’s second love adventure.
     The third adventure deals with Antonia. The curtain of the third act rises on a room in Rath Krespel’s house in Munich. Krespel’s daughter Antonia is gifted, like her mother, with a remarkably beautiful voice, but, like her mother, also, she is afflicted with the deadly disease of consumption. Although singing gives her the greatest happiness, her father had forbidden her tasking her strength in this way because he knows it will be fatal for her. She is engaged to be married to Hoffmann, but Krespel does not encourage the alliance. He fears for his daughter’s life, because he knows Hoffmann to be very fond of music and would delight in hearing Antonia sing. He keeps his daughter confined in the house and has given his servant. Franz, strict injunctions not to permit anybody to see Antonia when he is away from home. Franz, however, is quite deaf, and, misunderstanding Krespel’s orders, eagerly welcomes Hoffmann when he comes to visit Antonia. In a charming love scene between Hoffmann and Antonia the girl proves to her lover that her voice has in no way lost its beauty. They refrain from further love making when they hear Krespel returning. Antonia, to avoid her father, retires to her own room, and Hoffmann, anxious to know why Krespel keeps his daughter so confined, hides himself in an alcove. Krespel comes in and is followed immediately by Dr. Mirakel. Mirakel is the evil genius of Hoff-mann. He is the Coppelias of the first adventure and the Dapertutto of the second. Krespel is terribly afraid of this man, because he believes it was he who killed his wife, and because he fears he has now designs to kill his daughter.
     As Hoffmann listens to the talk between Krespel and Mirakel he learns the secret of Antonia’s affliction and why it is that she is so carefully guarded by her father. When Mirakel has finally been sent out and Krespel has also left, the two lovers meet again. Hoffmann now earnestly begs Antonia never to sing again. After much entreaty, she finally gives him her promise not to sing again. When Hoffmann, however, leaves, Mirakel returns and goads her on to break her promise. He invokes the spirit of her mother to assist him in his arguments, so that she is persuaded to sing. He urges her on to further effort, but the girl sinks back exhausted. Krespel and Hoffmann, returning, find her dying, and with some short words of farewell she dies in her father’s arms, Hoffmann a heart-broken witness. Thus ends tbe third and last adventure.
     The Epilogue takes us back to Luther’s wine cellar in Nuremberg, the same scene in which the prologue was enacted. His boon companions cheer him their thanks for his three tales, and leave him. In their place comes the Muse of Art to offer Hoffmann consolation as a balm for his wounded heart. For a moment he is roused and his soul filled with an ecstatic joy, but his drinking has been too much for him. He falls face forward on the table and goes sound asleep. When Stella asks Nicklausse if Hoffmann is asleep, he answers, "No, dead drunk." As Stella takes Lindorf’s arm to leave, she turns to look at Hoffmann and throws a flower from her bouquet at his feet.

THAIS

Opera in three acts by JULES MASSENET

     The libretto of Thais, by touis Gallet, for which Jules Massenet wrote the music, is taken from the novel, by Anatole France, which deals with a monk of the sect of Cenobites who, in his enthusiasm for his religion, determines to convert the famous beauty and reigning courtesan of Alexandria, Thais by name. This monk is known as Athanael. In his more youthful days he had been a man about town, who had lived the gay, dissipating life of the rich aristocrat of the city. He had, however, turned away from this life of pleasure, and sought to repent for the error of his ways by turning monk. The opera was first produced in Paris, in 1894.
     The first scene of the first act is laid in the Thebaid, the desert of Thebes in Egypt. Here are the huts of the Cenobites, It is the evening of the day, and twelve monks and old Palemon are sitting at a long table partaking of the frugal repast. Athanael’s seat is vacant. The monks discuss Athanael and wonder at his long absence. Palemon tells them the hour of his return is near, because a dream showed him to him. Athanael appears, advancing slowly, as oi exhausted with fatigue and sorrow. The brothers greet him respectfully, and Athanael sits down wearily, gently declining the food they offer him. His heart is filled with bitterness. He has been to the city given over to sin, and he returns now in mourning and affliction. A woman, Thais, fills Alexandria with scandal, and, through her, hell reigns there. Palemon prays him not to meddle with the people of the time, and the monks, with mysterious fear, pray that the black demons of the abyss may move off from their way.
     Athanael stretches himself before his hut and lays his head on a wooden pallet. Then, praying a short prayer, he falls asleep. The evening becomes darker until black night is over all. After a short space of quiet, a light appears in the midst of the darkness, and in a mist which rises appears the interior of the theater at Alexandria. The place is crowded with people, and on the stage is Thais, half clothed, but with face veiled, performing the dance of Aphrodite. As if from a great distance is heard the applause of the audience, calling on Thais by name. The vision disappears, and suddenly the day breaks, and it is dawn.
     Athanael gradually awakes. He has been dreaming. When he realizes what it was he had seen in his vision, he prays to God for help. He vows he will deliver this woman from the thraldom of the flesh. The more guilty she is the more compassionate does he feel. His mission is now revealed to him, he prays, and he must return to the accursed city. God forbid, he cries, lest Thais sink deeper in the pit of wickedness. Palemon comes in just then and repeats what he had said at the table the night before, that they should not meddle with the people of the time. But Athanael is already preparing to leave. The Cenobites surround him and accompany him on the road; then, kneeling in - groups, they answer. to him as his voice is lost to them in the desert, praying that his spirit be armed for the combat, and that he be stronger than the archangel against the charms of the demon.
     The second scene represents the terrace in the house of Nicias at Alexandria, which overlooks the town and the sea. Athanael slowly appears and stops at the back. A servant, seeing him, rises and bids the beggar, as he thinks he is, to go and find alms elsewhere. Athanael gently begs the servant to tell his master that a friend desires to speak with him. The servant is about to strike Athanael, but is restrained by the calm dignity of Athanael’s attitude, and goes to inform his master. Voices and laughter are heard, and shortly afterwards Nicias appears, leaning on the shoulders of two beautiful and smiling slaves, Crobyle and Myrtale. At the sight of Athanael he stops; then, recognizing him as his old friend of the earlier and gay days, he welcomes him with open arms. When he is told of Athanael’s mission, he laughs and warns him not to offend Venus, whose priestess Thais is. Athanael, however, is determined, and Nicias listens to his request for some decent clothes in which he may meet Thais. Athanael is dressed and perfumed by Crobyle and Myrtale, who admire him for his handsome appearance. As they finish dressing him in his fine clothes, acclamations are heard from a distance, and Nicias, mounting the terrace, announces the coming of Thais.
     Thais now enters, preceded by actors and actresses and some friends of Nicias. Nicias receives her gallantly, and leads them all to the banqueting-room behind the draperies. When Athanael leaves the banqueting-room later with Nicias’s philosopher friends, Thais, who has been attracted by the stranger with the fierce eyes, asks Nicias as to who he is. Nicias tells her he is a philosopher of a rude soul, and bids her take heed, since he has come for her. Athanael, coming in, advances towards her, but she tells him to begone, because she believes in love only. He tells her straight that he is come to take her to the only true God; and shall vanquish Hell in triumphing over her. As he is about to leave, he says to her : "I shall go to thy palace and bring thee salvation." Thais, as she makes ready to enact the Aphrodite love scene, dares him to brave Venus. Athanael, seeing her preparing to unrobe herself, rushes away in horror.
     The first scene of the second act takes us into Thais’s house. A statue of Venus is in the foreground, before which is a censer. Thais enters with her train, but immediately dismisses them. She is tired to death of men, their brutality, and their indifference. Her life of gay love is become a weariness to her. She prays to Venus for eternal beauty. Athanael appears, and she turns to him, bidding him beware lest he love her. He does love her, he tells her, but not as she understands love. He loves her in spirit, and in truth. She asks to be shown that love. He tells her that the love she knows begets only shame; but the love he brings her is glorious love. He would not offend her, he would but try to make her yield to the truth. Thais looks at him with a vague fear. She cannot understand him when he speaks to her of the life everlasting. She takes a spatula of gold and throws some incense in the censer. The aroma excites Athanael, and a light mist envelopes Thais and the statue as she prays to Venus. Athanael, tearing his borrowed robe from off him, cries to her to arise. Thais, in fear, begs him not to harm her. He, on his part, conjures her to become the’ bride of Christ. A new strength comes to her at his words. The voice of Nicias, approaching, is then heard calling on Thais. She cries out that he has never loved anyone; that he has only loved love. She bids Athanael to go and tell Nicias that she despises all rich men; that Nicias must forget her. Athanael says sternly that he will be at her doorstep until dawn, and await her coming; but she, with a last effort at resistance, cries out that she will remain Thais, Thais the courtezan. She believes in nothing and wants nothing more. She breaks off .into a nervous laugh, and then throws herself face down on the pillows, sobbing, as Athanael departs. As the curtains slowly come together, hiding her from the audience, the orchestra plays a symphonic religious music.
     The second scene is the square facing Thais’s house. It is not yet daylight. On the last steps of the portico, under which is seen a small statue of Eros, lies Athanael, asleep. In the rear is a house in which Nicias and his friends are still making merry. The windows are lighted up. The door of Thais’s house opens, and she appears, carrying a lamp over her head. Seeing Athanael lying there, she puts the lamp down and approaches him mysteriously. She is come as Athanael commanded. She will follow if he will lead. She begs but for one thing to take with her, the statuette of Eros. She explains that it was Nicias who had given it to her. Athanael, in great anger; curses the poisoned source of the gift, and smashes the statuette on the pavement, and tells her to put a lighted torch to all her possessions. When Thais and Athanael have gone into the house, Nicias and. his friends appear. Singing and dancing are in progress, when Athanael comes quickly from the house, carrying a lighted torch in his hand. Nicias recognizes him, and his friends jeer him. Athanael bids them be silent. Thais is the spouse of God, he says. The infernal Thais is dead, dead for ever. Thais now appears, meanly clad, with her hair in disorder. The house takes fire and a crowd, attracted by the noise and the laughter, fills the stage. Athanael is begging Thais to come away with him, while Nicias is incredulous at the idea that she is willing to go. Athanael is wounded by a stone thrown from a man in the crowd. Great confusion and uproar ensues. Athanael and Thais are ready to die. The crowd roars "Death," and Nicias tries to appease them by throwing gold to them. As the mob scrambles for the gold, Nicias bids farewell to Athanael and Thais, who escape. The palace continues to burn, and the curtain falls.
     Athanael and Thais have travelled a long journey and are now, as the curtain rises on the first scene of the third act, arriving at an oasis in the desert. Thais is overcome by fatigue and can scarcely move. She is faint from the jour. ney and the heat; and when she complains, beg. ging to stay awhile, Athanael will have her walk on. She must purify the body she gave to pagans and infidels by breaking it, by destroying the flesh. Thais can go no further. She sways and is about to fall, when he holds her in his arms and seats her in the shade. As he contemplates her, he notices the blood flowing from the bruised feet, and compassion for her fills him. He falls before her and kisses her feet, calling her a saint. Thais, recovering, would go on; but now Athanael would have her rest, and he gives her food. As she is eating the fruit he has brought her, the music of psalmody is heard in the distance, and voices chanting the Paternoster. Albine and the White Ladies now appear, and Athanael places Thais in their care. Thais bids him a touching farewell, as she moves away with the White Ladies, and Athanael is left alone, leaning on his stick and looking longingly down the road taken by Thais. The curtain falls.
     The second scene takes us back to the Thebaid and the huts of the Cenobites, by the river Nile. The monks are looking towards the sky with a vague terror. Sounds of a windstorm are heard in the distance. Palemon suggests that the food be placed within the huts to save it from the storm. One monk asks where Athanael is. Palemon says he has been back for twenty days, and has not eaten or drunk in all that time. Athanael comes out of his hut and passes through without noticing his brother monks. When he is left alone with Palemon, he turns to him in humility and begs him to remain. He confesses he cannot keep the image of Thais’s face out of his thoughts. Palemon simply and gently repeats his old advice : "Let us not meddle, my son, with the people of the time." Athanael rises from the ground by the feet of Palemon, where he has fallen in shame of his confession, and kneels on the mat. Pale-mon leaves him, and Athanael stretches himself and goes to sleep.
     Thais appears to him in a vision in the same guise in which he first saw her. She tempts him to the love of Venus, and Athanael cries out in his sleep : "I die, Thais! Come!" Thais disappears, laughing loudly, and a new vision appears, revealing Thais stretched motionless in the garden of the convent of the White Ladies. Around her are kneeling the nuns. Voices mourn that Thais is about to die. Athanael, in his dream, becomes wildly excited and cries aloud that Thais must not die. He will come to take her. She must be his.’ He rises from his sleep and rushes out into the night. The curtain closes to music.
     The last scene is the garden of the convent of Albine. Thais is stretched out beneath a fig tree as if dead. She is surrounded by Albine and the nuns. All pray. Athanael appears at the entrance of the garden, and Albine, seeing him, goes toward him, while the White Ladies surround the prostrate form of Thais so that he may not see it. Albine bids Athanael welcome. He asks eagerly for Thais. She tells him that she is about ‘to see the eternal light. He sees Thais, and, calling her by name, he falls, broken with grief, kneeling, by her side. Opening her eyes to answer his call, she reminds him of his words to her and tells him that she sees heaven opening for her. As she dies, he gives a terrible cry and falls prostrate by her side.

TIEFLAND

A Dramatic Opera in prologue and three acts by Eugene D ‘Albert

The book is by Rudolph Lothar, after a story

     This work was. first seen at Prague, 1903. The scene is laid in the Pyrenees and a valley in C.atalonia; time, the present.
     The prologue shows a mountain pass in the Pyrenees. Pedro, the shepherd, has hither.to passed his days in these mountains and has seldom seen any other human face save that of Nando, his comrade. Scarcely ever has he met women, but he longs for the day when the Virgin will send him some nice woman for. a wife. One day Pedro’s employer comes to see him, leading by the hand a handsome girl from the plains below. He tells him that this shall be his wife if he will come forth from his rocks and go to live with her near the mill. Pedro does not know when this offer is made to him that Martha, the girl thus offered to him, has been the mistress of Sebastiano, and that the latter is simply using this means with unsophisticated Pedro to restore before the world Martha’s respectable name.
     The interior of the mill is shown in Act I. The servants of Sebastiano are all aware of Martha’s intimate relations, with the exception of Pedro himself, and in consequence they amuse themselves highly with his iguorance. Sebastiano at this time is engaged to a well-to-do farmer’s daughter, and plans that the marriage with Pedro should furnish a convenient cloak for his illicit relations with Martha. The latter, however, is not at bottom of a deceitful nature, and as she has found much in Pedro she likes and esteems, she hates deluding him constantly as Sebastiano expects her to do. She is unable to discover a way out of the difficulty, and at last the wedding of Pedro and Martha is Celebrated with much noise. Pedro in his ignorance of the real state of affairs accepts delightedly the mock congratulations of the other servants. Sebastiano’s purpose is to continue his relations with Martha immediately after the wedding ceremony, but Martha foils him by a ruse and knows also how to baffle her nominal husband.
     In the second act Nuri, a young peasant girl who is secretly in love with Pedro, accidentally finds him alone and begins to chat with him. Martha surprises these two, and straightway grows jealous. She orders Nuri out of the house, and Pedro goes with her. Martha is wretched and goes to old Tomaso for advice, but when he says the best way would be to make a clean breast of it to Pedro she is unwilling to do that, because she fears to lose Pedro altogether thereby. Then Pedro comes back to her, saying that he has been considering matters and finds his proper place is the highland, not the plains. Martha then pleads : "Ah, take me along!" But Pedro, now enlightened, suddenly flares up and advances with a dagger, but is prevented from harming her. Then the two patch up a sort of peace and resolve to flee. This for the moment is rendered impossible by the entrance of Sebastiano, who is followed by a group of villagers eager to reap all the amusement possible from the situation. Sebastiano thrums a guitar and bids Martha to dance for the crowd. But Pedro in a rage flies at Sebastiano’s throat, and the puzzled villagers have to separate these two.
     The last act shows the rupture Of Sebastiano’s engagement because his betrothed has discovered his duplicity and immoral conduct. When he next approaches Martha and wishes to resume their former relations, she spurns him to his utter amazement. He flies into a fury and tries to overpower the girl. But Martha screams for help, and ·Pedro comes to the rescue, his trusty dagger in his hand. Seeing that Sebastiano is unarmed, he throws the weapon aside, and attacks his opponent with his bare fists. After a terrific struggle he is victorious and throws Sebastiano into, a corner, powerless. The crowd of villagers, who came to jeer at him, are .now dumb with fear. Pedro hurls defiance at them all. " Why don’t you laugh now?" he demands. Then he shoulders his handsome young bride and strides off into the freedom of his mountains.

LES TROYENS
(The Trojans)

Musical Drama in two parts and eight acts by Hector Berlioz

The text by Mérimée

     ‘This work was first shown in Paris, 1863. The action is partly based on the Aeneid.
     Part I. Act I. The Trojans are robbing the deserted camp of the Greeks before Troy and gazing upon the great wooden horse left behind; Cassandra prophesies that evil will befall them.
     Act II. News of the dreadful death of the priest, Laocoon, is brought to the Trojans, and to appease the goddess, Pallas, whom the priest had slighted, they drag inside the city walls the gigantic horse. Again Cassandra presages terrible consequences.
     Act III. The spirit of Hector tells Aeneas of the sad fate of Troy and urges him to land on Ansonian shores and found a new nation. The Greeks meanwhile are burning Troy. In the next scene, at the palace of Priam, Cassandra relates the facts about the death of Choroebus and the retreat of Aeneas. She herself, rather than be taken prisoner, commits suicide.
     Part II. Act I. Dido’s palace. Jarbas endeavors to coerce Dido to marry him. She receives Aeneas kindly.
     Act II. Aeneas and his companions defeat Jarbas and rescue Dido, who falls in love with the hero. Mercury, the messenger of the gods, advises Aeneas not to loiter, but to speed on to Italy.
     Act III. Narbal warns Dido that Aeneas will not neglect his mission because of her love. In another scene Dido and Aeneas, while out on the chase, are overtaken by a storm and seek shelter in a cave.
     Act IV. Aeneas now makes up his mind to return to Italy. He sees the vessels of the Trojans in the harbor. Although Dido attempts to hold him back from departure, he succeeds in boarding his ship.
     Act V. First scene, Dido’s palace. The queen is still bent on. delaying Aeneas’ going, but in vain. When she realizes that he has sailed away she issues orders that her own funeral pyre be erected. In the next scene she is seen mounting the pyre, whence she predicts that an avenger will rise from her ashes.

IL TABARRO

One-act opera by Giacomo Puccini

Book by Adami after Gold’s "La Hauppelande"

     The first production was given in New York in 1918. The setting is a barge on the Seine during modern times.
     The longshoremen are leaving Michele’s barge after the day’s work. One of them, Luigi who is in love with Michele’s young wife, Giogetta, lingers to whisper that she is to strike a match to let him know when he may safely return to her arms. Michele comes on deck. He suspects his wife and in an effort to awaken her early love for him, he reminds her of the times when he used to shelter her under his great cloak. But these reminiscences only bore Giogetta who feigns weariness and goes down into the cabin.
     It has grown dark. Michele, sitting alone on the barge, lights his pipe. Thinking that the flaring match is Giogetta’s signal, Luigi climbs aboard and is seized and choked to death by Michele who covers the body with his cloak. He re-lights his pipe. Giogetta, who has heard muffled noises, comes on deck and is reassured when she sees her husband quietly smoking. To atone for her earlier frigidity, she now begins to talk of the days when Michele first loved her. She wishes that she again find shelter in the folds of his big coat. For reply, Michele raises the cloak—and Giogetta sees her lover’s body.

DIE TOTE STADT

Opera in three acts by Erick Wolfgang Korngold

Book by Schott after Rodenbach’s novel, "Bruges la Morte"

     The first production was given at Vienna in 1920. The setting is Bruges of the early twentieth century.
     Act I. Paul, living in Bruges, the city of the past, preserves the room in which his wife Marie died as a shrine sacred to her memory. One day while out walking he meets Marietta, a dancer and the image of his beloved wife. At his request she visits him but leaves shortly when she foresees no likelihood of an intrigue. Paul sinks into a chair : Marie appears to him in a vision, stepping out of her picture frame, and the dream pictures born of his love and longing take shape on the stage.
     Act II. Paul is walking before Marietta’s house on a moonlit street when suddenly a merry party comes along the canal in boats, led by Count Albert of Brussels. They improvise a serenade and champagne party in the street and Marietta gives a ghostly performance of the scene of the dead nuns in Meyerbeer’s "Robert le Diable." Paul rushes forward and tears the winding sheet from her body. When the others intervene, Marietta sends them away and induces Paul to take her to his home.
     Act III. In the shrine to Marie’s memory, Marietta triumphs over her dead rival. When Paul begs her to leave the room, the dancer’s hatred of the wife breaks out in curses. Seeing the golden lock of Marie’s hair, she winds it about her neck and dances shamelessly before the horrified Paul who finally throws her to the ground and strangles her with the shining strand of his dead wife’s hair...
     Waking from his terrible dream, Paul finds himself alone in the room. At that moment the real Marietta returns, pretending to have forgotten some trifle. Paul ignores her inviting smile and lets her go in silence. His friend, Frank, then persuades him to leave Bruges with its tragic memories and begin a new life elsewhere.

TURANDOT

Opera in three acts by Giacomo Puccini

Book by Simon and Adami

     The first performance was given in Milan in 1926. The scenes are laid in ancient Pekin, the capital of China.
     Act I. A crowd has gathered in the palace courtyard to listen to the reading of a royal decree : The Princess Turandot, fair and chaste, will become the bride of the suitor who unravels three enigmas which she shall propose. All who fail to answer the riddles will lose their heads. A rumor flies through the crowd —   the Prince of Persia is coming to try his fortune. Amid the confusion an old man makes his way across the courtyard. He is supported by a young girl, Liú. A youth sees them and hurries forward — it is Calaf, the Unknown Prince, and the old man is his father, Timur, the dethroned king of the Tartars. The cortege of the Persian Prince arrives, followed by the executioner, for the Prince has failed to solve cruel Turandot’s enigmas. Touched by the youth of the Persian, the crowd demands clemency of Turandot who, when she appears on the balcony, awes them into silence by her matchless beauty. There is the sound of the executioner’s axe — and the Prince’s head is suspended on an iron spike over the Pekin gates.
     The Unknown Prince, at sight of Turandot’s beauty, forgets her cruelty and determines to try to win her. Ping, Pong and Pang, court dignitaries; seek in vain to dissuade him while the ghosts of Turandot’s dead lovers and the pleas of old Timur and gentle Liú alike fail to shake his resolution.
     Act II. Again a multitude has assembled for the approaching trial of the Unknown Prince. Turandot tells them of her grandmother, the pure and chaste Princess Lo-u-ling, who was ravished by the invading Tartars. It is to avenge her ancestress that Turandot has proposed such cruel terms for her suitors. She turns to the Unknown Prince and asks : "What twin doves bring man tidings from the Land of Heart’s desire ?" He replies : "Hope and faith!" "Which twin pillars uphold Paradise?" asks the Princess. "Knowledge and power!" he answers: "Which twin flower hides the riddle of. the world?" demands Turandot and the Unknown Prince gives the answer : "Love!" The crowd rejoices but poor Turandot entreats her father to save her from the arms of the foreigner. The Emperor reminds her that her vow is sacred — the Unknown Prince has won her according to her own conditions. She turns to the Prince who agrees to release her if she can tell him his name before the next dawn.
     Act III. It is night. Heralds move through the city, warning the people on pain of death not to sleep until they have discovered the name of the Unknown Prince. They seek him out and try to bribe, then to frighten him into disclosing his identity — but to no avail. Some one remembers seeing old Timur and Liú in the company of the stranger. Guards drag the two before Turandot who orders them tortured until they tell the Prince’s name. Liú cries that she alone knows it. The executioner is summoned but Liú, in terror lest she reveal the identity of the Prince, stabs herself with a knife snatched from one of the soldiers. All are moved to pity. Turandot is troubled — what prompted the little slave girl to such heroism? The Unknown Prince reproaches Turandot and, to punish her, clasps her in his arms and kisses her. Then is Turandot vanquished. She confesses that she has loved the Prince all the while and when he says that he is Calaf, son of the Tartar king, she declares that it is not so — for his name is Love.

Last updated October 21, 2006