|

Opera Books

The
Complete Opera Book
Gustav Kobbé

Italo Montemezzi
LAMORE DEI TRE RE
THE LOVE OF THREE KINGS
Opera in three
acts, by Italo Montemezzi; words by Sem Benelli, from his tragedy ("tragic poem
") of th.e same title, English version, by Mrs. R. H. Elkin. Produced, La Scala,
Milan, April 10, 1913; Metropolitan Opera House, New York, January 2, 1914, with
Didur (Archi-baldo), Amato (Manfredo), Ferrari-Fontana (Avito), Bori (Fiora).
Covent Garden Theatre, London, May 27, 1914. Théâtre des Champs Elysées,
Paris, April 25, 1914. In the Milan production Luisa Villani was Fiora, and
Ferrari Fontana Avito.
CHARACTERS
| Archibaldo, King of Altura |
Bass |
| Manfredo, son of Archibaldo |
Baritone |
| Avito, a former prince of Altura |
Tenor |
| Flaminio, a castle guard |
Tenor |
| Fiora, wife of Manfredo |
Soprano |
| A youth, a boy child (voice behind the
scenes), a voice behind the scenes, a handmaiden, a young girl, an old woman, other people
of Altura. |
Time-The tenth century.
Place-A remote castle of Italy,
forty years after a Barbarian invasion, led by Archibaldo.
THIS opera is justly considered one of the finest products of
modern Italian genius. Based upon a powerful tragedy, by Sem Benelli, one of the foremost
of living playwrights in Italy, it is a combination of terse, swiftly moving drama with a
score which vividly depicts events progressing fatefully toward an inevitable human
cataclysm. While there is little or no set melody in Montemezzis score, nevertheless
it is melodious-a succession of musical phrases that clothe the words, the thought behind
them, their significance, their most subtle suggestion, in the weft and woof of expressive
music. It is a mediaeval tapestry, the colours of which have not faded, but still glow
with their original depth and opulence. Of the many scores that have come out of Italy
since the death of Verdi, "LAmore dei Tre Re "is one of the most eloquent.
Act I. The scene is a spacious hall open to a terrace. A
lantern employed as a signal sheds its reddish light dimly through the gloom before dawn.
From the left enters Archibaldo. He is old with
flowing white hair and beard, and he is blind. He is led in by his guide Flaminio, who
is in the dress of the castle guard. As if he saw, the old blind king points to the door
of a chamber across the hall and bids Flaminio look and tell him if it is quite
shut. It is slightly open. Archibaldo in a low voice orders him to shut it, but
make no noise, then, hastily changing his mind, to leave it as it is.
In the setting of the scene, in the gloom penetrated only by
the glow of the red lantern, in the costumes of the men in the actions of the old king,
who cannot see but whose sense of hearing is weirdly acute, and in the subtle suggestion
of suspicion that all is not well, indicated in his restlessness, the very opening of this
opera immediately casts a spell of the uncanny over the hearer. This is enhanced by the
groping character of the theme which accompanies the entrance of Archibaldo with
his guide, depicting the searching footsteps of the blind old man.

There is mention of Fiora, the wife of Archibaldos
son, Manfredo, who is in the north, laying siege to an enemy stronghold. There
also is mention of Avito, a prince of Altura, to whom Fiora was betrothed
before Archibaldo humbled Italy, but whose marriage to Manfredo, notwithstanding
her previous betrothal, was one of the conditions of peace. Presumably-as is to be
gathered from the brief colloquy-A rchibaldo has come into the hall to watch with Flaminio
for the possible return of Manfredo, but the restlessness of the old king, his
commands regarding the door opposite, and even certain inferences to be drawn from what he
says, lead to the conclusion that he suspects his sons wife and Avito. It is
also clear-subtly conveyed, without being stated in so many words-that Flaminio, though
in the service of Archibaldo, is faithful to Avito, like himself a native of
the country, which Archibaldo has conquered.
When Flaminio reminds Archibaldo that Avito
was to have wedded Fiora, the blind king bids his guide look out into the
valley for any sign of Manfredos approach. "Nessuno, mio signore! Tutto
è pace!" is Flaminios reply. (No one, my lord! All is quiet!)

Archibaldo, recalling his younger years, tells
eloquently of his conquest of Italy, apostrophizing the ravishing beauty of the country,
when it first met his gaze, before he descended the mountains from which he beheld it. He
tben bids Flaminio put out the lantern, since Manfredo comes not. Flaminio
obeys then, as there is heard in the distance the sound of a rustic flute, he urges
upon Archibaldo that they go. It is nearly dawn, the flute appears to have been a
signal which Flaminio understands. He is obviously uneasy, as he leads out of the
hall.
Avito and Fiora come out of her room. The
womans hair hangs in disorder around her face, her slender figure is draped in a
very fine ivory-white garment. The very quiet that prevails fills Avito with
apprehension. It is the woman, confident through love, that seeks to reassure him.
"Dammi le labbra, e tanta to darò di questa pace!" (Give me thy lips, and I
will give thee of this peace).

For the moment Avito is reassured. There is a brief
but passionate love scene. Then Avito perceives that the lantern has been
extinguished. He is sure someone has been there, and they are spied upon. Once more Fiora
tries to give him confidence. Then she herself hears someone approaching. Avito escapes
from the terrace into the dim daylight. The door on the left opens and Archibaldo appears
alone. He calls "Fiora! Fiora! Fiora!"
Concealing every movement from the old mans ears, she
endeavours to glide back to her chamber. But he hears her.
"I hear thee breathing! Thourt breathless and
excited! O Fiora, say, with whom hast thou been speaking?"
Deliberately she lies to him. She has been speaking to no
one. His keen sense tells him that she lies. For when she sought to escape from him, he
heard her "gliding thro the shadows like a snowy wing."
Flaminio comes hurrying in. The gleam of armoured men
has been seen in the distance. Manf redo is returning. His trumpet is sounded. Even
now he is upon the battlement and embraced by his father. Longing for his wife, Fiora, has
led him for a time to forsake the siege. Fiora greets him, but with no more than a
semblance of kindness. With cunning, she taunts Archibaldo by telling ManfAredo that
she had come out upon the terrace at dawn to watch for him, the truth of which assertion A
Archibaldo can affirm, for he found her there. As they go to their chamber, the old
man, troubled, suspecting, fearing, thanks God that he is blind.
Act II. The scene is a circular terrace on the high castle
walls. A single staircase leads up to the battlements. It is afternoon. The sky is covered
with changing, fleeting clouds. Trumpet blasts are heard from the valley. From the left
comes Manfredo with his arms around Fiora. He pleads with her for her love.
As a last boon before he departs he asks her that she will mount the stairway and, as he
departs down the valley, wave to him with her scarf. Sincerely moved to pity by his plea,
a request so simple and yet seemingly meaning so much to him, she promises that this shall
be done. He bids her farewell, kisses her, and rushes off to lead his men back to the
siege.
Fiora tries to shake off the sensation of her
husbands embrace. She ascends to the battlemented wall. A handmaid brings her an
inlaid casket, from which she draws forth a long white scarf. The orchestra graphically
depicts the departure of Manfredo at the head of his cavalcade.

Fiora sees the horsemen disappear in the valley. As
she waves the veil, her hand drops wearily each time. Avito comes. He tells her it
is to say farewell. At first, still touched by the pity which she has felt for her
husband, Fiora restrains her passionate longing for her lover, once or twice waves
the scarf, tries to do so again, lets her arms drop, her head droop, then, coming down the
steps, falls into his arms open to receive her, and they kiss each other as if dying
of love. "Come tremi, diletto" (How thou art trembling, beloved!) whispers
Fiora.

"Guarda in su! Siamo in cielo!" (Look up! We are
in heaven!) responds Avito.

But the avenger is nigh. He is old, he is blind, but he
knows. Avito is about to throw himself upon him with his drawn dagger, but is
stopped by a gesture from Flaminio, who has followed the king. Avito goes.
But Archibaldo has heard his footsteps. The king orders Flaminio to leave
him with Fiora. Flaminio bids him listen to the sound of horses hoofs in the
valley. Manfredo is returning. Fiora Senses that her husband has suddenly
missed the waving of the scarf. Archibaldo orders Flaminio to go meet the
prince.
The old king bluntly accuses Fiora of having been
with her lover. Cowering on a stone bench that runs around the wall, she denies it. Archibaldo
seizes her. Rearing like a serpent, Fiora, losing all fear, in the almost
certainty of death at the hands of the powerful old man, who holds her, boldly
vaunts her lover to him. Archibaldo demands his name, that he and his son may be
avenged upon him. She refuses to divulge it. He seizes her by the throat, again demands
the name, and when she again refuses to betray her lover, throttles her to death. Manfredo
arrives. Briefly the old man tells him of Fioras guilt. Yet Manfredo cannot
hate her. He is moved to pity by the great love of which her heart was capable, though it
was not for him. He goes out slowly, while Archibaldo hoists the slender body of
the dead woman across his chest, and follows him.
Act III. The crypt of the castle, where Fiora lies
upon her bier with white flowers all about her, and tapers at her head and feet. Around
her, people of her country, young and old, make their moan, while from within the chapel
voices of a choir are heard.
Out of the darkness comes Avito. The others depart in
order that he may be alone with his beloved dead, for he too is of their oountry, and they
know. "Fiora! Fiora!È silenzio!" (Fiora! Fiora!Silence surrounds
us) are his first words, as he gazes upon her.

Then, desperately, he throws himself beside her and presses
his lips on hers. A sudden chill, as of approaching death, passes through him. He rises,
takes a few tottering steps toward the exit.
Like a shadow, Manfredo approaches. He has come to
seize his wifes lover, whose name his father could not wring from her, but whom at
last they have caught. He recognizes Avito. Then it was he whom she adored.
"What do you want?" asks Avito. "Can
you not see that I can scarcely speak?"
Scarcely speak? He might as well be dead. Upon Fioras
lips Archibaldo has spread a virulent poison, knowing well that her lover would
come into the crypt to kiss her, and in that very act would drain the poison from her lips
and die. Thus would they track him.
With his last breath, Avito tells that she loved him
as the life that they took from her, aye, even more. Despite the avowal, Manfredo cannot
hate him; but rather is he moved to wonder at the vast love Fiora was capable of
bestowing, yet not upon himself.
Avito is dead. Manfredo, too, throws himself
upon Fioras corpse, and from her lips draws in what remains of the poison,
quivers, while death slowly creeps through his veins, then enters eternal darkness, as Archibaldo
gropes his way into the crypt.
The blind king approaches the bier, feels a body lying by
it, believes he has caught Fioras lover, only to find that the corpse is that
of his son.
Such is the love of three kings;of Archibaldo for
his son, of Avito for the woman who loved him, of Manfredo for the woman who
loved him not.
Or, if deeper meaning is looked for in Sem Benellis
powerful tragedy, the three kings are in love with Italy, represented by Fiora, who
hates and scorns the conqueror of her country, Archibaldo; coldly turns aside from Manfredo,
his son and heir apparent with whose hand he sought to bribe her; hotly loves, and
dies for a prince of her own people, Avito. Tragic is the outcome of the
conquerors effort to win and rule over an unwilling people. Truly, he is blind.
Italo Montemezzi was born in 1875, in
Verona. A choral work by him, "Cantico dei Cantici," was produced at the Milan
Conservatory, 1900. Besides "LAmore dei Tre Re," he has composed the
operas "Giovanni Gallurese," Turin, 1905, and "Hélléra," Turin,
1909. Last updated
October 22, 2006 |