Chapter I: Puritani (2)

"L'Elisir d'Amore," an opera buffa in two acts, words by Romani, was first produced in Milan, in 1832, and in English, at Drury Lane, in 1839, as "The Love Spell." The heroine of this graceful little opera is Adina, a capricious country girl, who is loved by Nemorino, a young farmer, whose uncle lies at the point of death, and by Belcore, a sergeant, whose troops are billeted upon the neighboring village. While Adina keeps both these suitors in suspense, Dr. Dulcamara, a travelling quack, arrives at the village in great state to vend his nostrums. Nemorino applies to him for a bottle of the Elixir of Love,--with the magical properties of which he has become acquainted in a romance Adina has been reading that very morning. The mountebank, of course, has no such liquid, but he passes off on the simple peasant a bottle of wine, and assures him that if he drinks of it he can command the love of any one on the morrow. To thoroughly test its efficacy, Nemorino drinks the whole of it. When he encounters Adina he is half tipsy, and accosts her in such disrespectful style that she becomes enraged, and determines to give her hand to the sergeant, and promises to marry him in a week. Meanwhile an order comes for the departure of the sergeant's detachment, and he begs her to marry him the same day. She gives her consent, and the second act opens with the assembling of the villagers to witness the signing of the marriage contract. While the sergeant, Adina, and the notary have retired to sign and witness the contract, Nemorino enters in despair, and finding Dulcamara enjoying a repast, he implores him to give him some charm that will make Adina love him at once. Having no money, the quack refuses to assist him, and Nemorino is again plunged into despair. At this juncture the sergeant enters, not in the best of humor, for Adina has declined to sign the contract until evening. Discovering that Nemorino wants money, he urges him to enlist. The bonus of twenty crowns is a temptation. Nemorino enlists, takes the money, hurries to the quack, and obtains a second bottle of the elixir, which is much more powerful than the first. In the next scene the girls of the village have discovered that Nemorino's uncle has died and left him all the property, though Nemorino himself has not heard of it. They crowd about him, trying to attract his attention with their charms and blandishments. He attributes his sudden popularity to the effects of the elixir, and even the quack is somewhat bewildered at the remarkable change. Nemorino now determines to pay Adina off in kind, and at last rouses her jealousy. Meanwhile Dulcamara acquaints her with the effects of the elixir and advises her to try some of it, and during the interview inadvertently informs her of Nemorino's attachment for her. Struck with his devotion, she repays the sergeant herself, announces her change of mind, and bestows her hand upon the faithful Nemorino. Like "Don Pasquale," the opera is exceedingly graceful in its construction, and very bright and gay in its musical effects, particularly in the duets, of which there are two,--one between Dulcamara and Nemorino in the first act ("Obbligato, ah! si obbligato"), and one between Dulcamara and Adina in the second act ("Quanto amore! ed io spietata"), which are charming in their spirit and humor. There is also an admirable buffo song in the first act, beginning with the recitative, "Udite, udite, o rustici," in which the Doctor describes his wares to the rustics, and a beautiful romanza in the second act for tenor ("Una furtiva lagrima"), which is of world-wide popularity, and bears the same relation to the general setting of the work that the Serenade does to "Don Pasquale."

LUCREZIA BORGIA.

"Lucrezia Borgia," an opera in three acts, words by Romani, was first produced at La Scala, Milan, in 1834. The subject was taken from Victor Hugo's tragedy of the same name, and its text was freely adapted by Romani. When it was produced in Paris, in 1840, Victor Hugo took steps to suppress any further representations. The libretto was then rewritten, under the title of "La Rinegata," the Italian characters were changed to Turks, and in this mutilated form the performances were resumed. It was in this opera that Signor Mario made his English debut, in 1839, with great success. Its first presentation in English was at London, Dec. 30, 1843.

The history of Lucrezia Borgia, daughter of Rodrigo Borgia, afterwards Pope Alexander VI., and sister of Caesar Borgia, is too well known to need recapitulation. It is necessary to the comprehension of the story of the opera, however, to state that she had an illegitimate son, named Genarro, who was left when an infant with a fisherman, but who subsequently entered the Venetian army and rose to an eminent rank. The opera opens with a brilliant festival in the gardens of the Barberigo Palace, which is attended by Genarro, Orsini, and others, all of them cordial haters of the detestable Borgias. While they are telling tales of Lucrezia's cruel deeds, Genarro lies down and goes to sleep, and Orsini in a spirited aria ("Nelle fatal di Rimini") relates to his companions the story of Genarro's gallantry at the battle of Rimini. As they leave, Lucrezia approaches, masked, in a gondola, and is received by Gubetta, with whom she has come to Venice on some secret errand. She discovers Genarro asleep, and expresses her delight at his beauty, and at the same time her maternal love, in a brilliant aria ("Com'e bello"). As she kisses his hand he wakes, and in the duet which follows tells her the story of his early life in an exquisite romanza ("Di pescatore ignobile"), which is one of the most familiar numbers in Italian opera. He begs her to reveal her name, but she refuses. As he continues to implore her, his friends return and denounce her to Genarro as the hated Borgia, in a concerted number ("Chi siam noi sol chiarirla") of great dramatic power, which closes the first act.

The second act opens in the public square of Ferrara, with the palace of the Borgias on the right. The Duke Alphonso, Lucrezia's husband, who has been observant of Lucrezia's attachment to Genarro, vows vengeance in a passionate aria ("Vieni la mia vendetta"). In the next scene Genarro, who has been taunted by his friends with being a victim of Lucrezia's fascinations, recklessly rushes up to the palace door and strikes off the first letter of her name with his dagger. When Lucrezia discovers the insult, she demands of the Duke that the guilty person shall be arrested and condemned to death. The Duke has already seized Genarro, and agrees to carry out his wife's demands. When the prisoner is brought before them for judgment, she is horror-stricken to find he is her son. She implores his life, but the infuriated Duke retaliates upon her with the declaration that she is his paramour. The duet between them ("O! a te bada"), in which Lucrezia passes from humble entreaties to rage and menace, is a fine instance of Donizetti's dramatic power. The Duke, however, is resolute in his determination, and will only allow her to choose the mode of Genarro's death. She selects the Borgia wine, which is poisoned. Genarro is called in, and after a trio ("Le ti tradisce"), which is one of the strongest numbers in the opera, he is given the fatal draught under the pretence of a farewell greeting from the Duke, who then leaves mother and son together. She gives him an antidote, and he is thus saved from the fate which the Duke had intended for him.

The last act opens at a banquet in the palace of the Princess Negroni, which is attended by Genarro and his friends, Lucrezia, meanwhile, supposing that he has gone to Venice. During the repast she has managed to poison their wine. In the midst of the gay revel Orsini sings the popular drinking-song, "Il segreto per esser felici," which is now familiar the world over. The festivities are interrupted, however, by the appearance of Lucrezia, who reveals herself with the taunting declaration: "Yes, I am Borgia. A mournful dance ye gave me in Venice, and I return ye a supper in Ferrara." She then announces that they are poisoned. The music is changed with great skill from the wild revelry of drinking-songs to the sombre strains of approaching death. Five coffins are shown them, when Genarro suddenly reveals himself to Lucrezia and asks for the sixth. The horror-stricken woman again perceives that her son has been poisoned by her own hand. As his companions leave the apartment she implores Genarro to take the antidote once more, and at last reveals herself as his mother. He steadily refuses to save himself, however, since his companions have to die, and expires in her arms just as the Duke and his followers enter. She discloses Genarro's relationship, and then dies with the despairing cry on her lips that Heaven has pronounced its final judgment upon her. Among all of Donizetti's operas, not one, unless it be "Lucia," is more popular than "Lucrezia Borgia," which may be attributed to the fact that while the story itself is one of fascinating dramatic interest, the musical numbers are simple, beautiful, and effective.

FLOTOW.

Friedrich von Flotow was born April 27, 1812, in the duchy of Mecklenberg-Schwerin, and in 1827 went to Paris, where he studied music under Reicha. His first work was "Stradella," a mere sketch in its original form, which was brought out at the Palais Royal in 1837; but his first public success was made in 1839, with his opera, "Le Naufrage de la Meduse," which had a run, and was afterwards produced in Germany under the title of "Die Matrosen." "L'Esclave de Camoens" appeared in Paris in 1843; "Stradella," rewritten as an opera, in Hamburg (1844); "L'Ame en peine," in Paris (1846); "Martha," in Vienna (1847). The works of his later period, which never equalled his earlier ones in popularity, were "Die Grossfuerstin" (1850); "Indra" (1853); "Rubezahl" (1854); "Hilda" (1855); "Der Mueller von Meran" (1856); "La Veuve Grapin" (1859); "L'Ombre" (1869); "Naida" (1873); "Il Flor d'Harlem" (1876); and "Enchanteresse" (1878). Of these later works, "L'Ombre" was the most successful, and was received with favor in France, Italy, Spain, and England, in which latter country it was performed under the title of "The Phantom." In 1856 he received the appointment of Intendant of the theatre of the Grand Duke of Mecklenberg, and he entered upon his duties with high hopes of making the theatre exercise the same influence upon music in Germany as the Weimar stage; but court intrigues and rivalries of artists so disgusted him that he resigned in 1863 and went to Paris, and a few years later to Vienna, where he took up his abode. Outside of a few of his operas his works are little known, though he composed a "Fackeltanz," some incidental music to the "Winter's Tale" of Shakspeare, and several overtures, songs, and chamber-pieces. An interesting episode in his career occurred in 1838, when he brought out an opera in three acts, the "Duc de Guise," at the Theatre de la Renaissance, the libretto based upon Dumas's "Henri III." The performance was organized by the Princess Czartoryska, for the benefit of the Poles. Mme. de Lagrange made her debut in a leading part, and the parts of the choristers were filled by duchesses and princesses of the Faubourg St. Germain, upon whose persons two million dollars worth of diamonds were blazing,--sufficient evidence that the performance was brilliant in at least one sense. He died at Wiesbaden, Jan. 24, 1883.

MARTHA.

"Martha," an opera in three acts, libretto by St. Georges, translated into German by Friedrich, was first produced at Vienna, Nov. 25, 1847, with Mlle. Anna Zerr in the title-role, Herr Ander as Lionel, and Carl Formes as Plunkett. It was first produced in English and Italian at London in 1858, and in French at Paris in 1865. The history of its origin is interesting. M. de St. Georges, at the request of the manager of the Paris Grand Opera, wrote in 1842 the libretto to a ballet entitled "Lady Henrietta, or the Servant of Greenwich," the subject being suggested to him by the adventures of two ladies of his acquaintance who had mingled with servants at a fair. The music was confided to three composers. The first act was given to Herr von Flotow, the second to Herr Burgmuller, and the third to M. Deldeves. The ballet had such a remarkable success, and Flotow was so delighted with the plot, that he entreated St. Georges to rewrite it for an opera. The latter consented, and the result of their collaboration was the appearance of one of the most popular operas which has ever been placed upon the stage.

The scene of the opera is laid at Richmond, England, and the time is during the reign of Queen Anne, though the Italian version places it in the fifteenth century, and the French in the nineteenth. Lady Henrietta, an attendant upon the Queen, tired of the amusements of court life, contrives a plan to visit the servants' fair at Richmond disguised as a servant-girl, and accompanied by Nancy, her maid, and Sir Tristan, her somewhat aged cousin, who is also her devoted admirer. In the first three scenes their plans are laid much to the disgust of Sir Tristan, who is to pass as John, while his fair cousin masquerades as Martha. The duet between the ladies ("Of the Knights so brave and charming"), and the trio with Tristan, are in dance time, and full of animation. The fourth scene opens in the market-place at Richmond, where the people are gathering to the fair. Thither also resort Plunkett, a farmer, and Lionel, his brother by adoption, whose parentage is unknown, and who has no souvenir of his father except a ring which has been left for him, with instructions to present it to the Queen if he ever finds himself in trouble. Lionel tells his story in an aria ("Lost, proscribed, an humble Stranger") which is universally popular, and the melody of which has been set to various words. They have come to the fair to procure help for their farm. While the sheriff, according to law, is binding the girls for a year's service, Plunkett and Lionel meet Martha and Nancy, and are so delighted with their appearance that they tender them the customary bonus, or "earnest-money," which secures them. Too late for escape, they find that they are actually engaged, and they are obliged to drive away with the young farmers, leaving Sir Tristan in despair.

The second act opens in the farm-house, where the four have arrived. The farmers inquire their names, and seek to find out what they can do, testing them first at the spinning-wheel. The spinning quartet ("When the Foot the Wheel turns lightly") is very gay and full of humor, and is one of the most delightful concerted numbers in the opera. The brothers soon find that their new servants are useless, but they are so pleased with them that they decide to keep them. At last Nancy, in a pet, kicks her wheel over and runs off, followed by Plunkett. Lionel, left alone with Martha, grows very tender to the new servant, and at last finds himself violently in love. He snatches a rose from her bosom, and refuses to return it unless she will consent to sing. She replies with the familiar ballad, "'Tis the last Rose of Summer," which Flotow has interpolated in this scene, and in the performance of which he makes a charming effect by introducing the tenor in the close. Her singing only makes him the more desperately enamoured, and he asks her to be his wife on the spot, only to find himself the victim of Martha's sport, although his devotion and sincerity have made a deep impression upon her. Plunkett and Nancy at last return, and another charming quartet follows ("Midnight sounds"), better known as the "Good Night Quartet." The two brothers retire, but Martha and Nancy, aided by Tristan, who has followed them and discovered their whereabouts, make good their escape. The next scene opens in the woods, where several farmers are drinking and carousing, among them Plunkett, who sings a rollicking drinking-song ("I want to ask you"). Their sport is interrupted by a hunting-party, composed of the Queen and her court ladies. Plunkett and Lionel recognize their fugitive servants among them, though the ladies disclaim all knowledge of them. Plunkett attempts to seize Nancy, but the huntresses attack him and chase him away, leaving Lionel and Lady Henrietta together again. The scene contains two of the most beautiful numbers in the opera,--the tenor solo, "Like a Dream bright and fair" ("M' appari" in the Italian version), and a romance for soprano ("Here in deepest forest Shadows"); and the act closes with a beautiful concerted finale, quintet and chorus, which is worked up with great power. In this finale the despairing Lionel bethinks him of his ring. He gives it to Plunkett, desiring him to present it to the Queen. By means of the jewel it is discovered that he is the only son of the late Earl of Derby, and she orders his estates, of which he has been unjustly deprived, to be restored to him.

The last act is not important in a musical sense, for the climax is attained in the previous finale. The dramatic denouement is soon reached, and the Lady Henrietta, who has for some time been seriously in love with Lionel, is at last united to him; and it is almost needless to add that the fortunes of Plunkett and Nancy are also joined. The charm of "Martha" is its liveliness in action and tunefulness in music. Though not a great opera from a musical point of view, it is one of the most popular in the modern repertory, and though few others have been performed so many times, it still retains that popularity. Its melodies, though sung in every country of the civilized world by amateurs and professional artists, have not yet lost their charms.

STRADELLA.

"Stradella," a romantic opera in three acts, was first written as a lyric drama and produced at the Palais Royal Theatre, Paris, in 1837, and was subsequently rewritten in its present form under the title of "Alessandro Stradella" and produced at Hamburg, Dec. 30, 1844. The English version, which was somewhat altered by Bunn, was produced in London, June 6, 1846. The story follows the historic narrative of Stradella, the Italian musician, except in the denouement. Stradella woos and wins Leonora, the fair ward of Bassi, a rich Venetian nobleman, with whom the latter is himself in love. They fly to Rome and are married. Bassi hires two bravoes, Barbarino and Malvolio, to follow them and kill Stradella. They track him to his house, and while the bridal party are absent enter and conceal themselves, Bassi being with them. Upon this occasion, however, they do not wait to accomplish their purpose. Subsequently they gain admission again in the guise of pilgrims, and are hospitably received by Stradella. In the next scene Stradella, Leonora, and the two bravoes are together in the same apartment, singing the praises of their native Italy. During their laudations the chorus of a band of pilgrims on their way to the shrine of the Virgin is heard, and Leonora and Stradella go out to greet them. The bravoes have been so moved by Stradella's singing that they hesitate in their purpose. Bassi enters and upbraids them, and finally, by the proffer of a still larger sum, induces them to consent to carry out his design. They conceal themselves. Stradella returns and rehearses a hymn to the Virgin which he is to sing at the festivities on the morrow. Its exquisite beauty touches them so deeply that they rush out of their hiding-place, and falling at his feet confess the object of their visit and implore his forgiveness. Leonora enters, and is astonished to find her guardian present. Explanations follow, a reconciliation is effected, and the lovers are happy. The denouement differs from the historical story, which, according to Bonnet, Bourdelot, and others, ends with the death of the lovers at Genoa, at the hands of the hired assassins.

The opera is one of the most charming of Flotow's works for its apt union of very melodious music with dramatic interest. Its most beautiful numbers are Stradella's serenade ("Horch, Liebchen, horch!"), the following nocturne ("Durch die Thaeler, ueber Huegel"), the brilliant and animated carnival chorus ("Freudesausen, Jubelbrausen") of the masqueraders who assist in the elopement, in the first act; the aria of Leonora in her bridal chamber ("Seid meiner Wonne"), the rollicking drinking-song of the two bravoes ("'Raus mit dem Nass aus dem Fass") and the bandit ballad ("Tief in den Abruzzen ") sung by Stradella, in the second act; an exquisite terzetto ("Sag doch an, Freund Barbarino") sung by Bassi and the two bravoes when they hesitate to perform their work, and Stradella's lovely hymn to the Virgin ("Jungfrau Maria! Himmlisch verklaerte"), in the last act.

GLUCK.

Christoph Willibald Gluck, one of the most eminent of German operatic composers, was born at Weidenwang in the Upper Palatinate, July 2, 1714. He began his musical studies in a Bohemian Jesuits' School at the age of twelve. In his eighteenth year he went to Prague, where he continued his education with Czernhorsky. Four years later he was fortunate enough to secure Prince Melzi for a patron, who sent him to Milan, where he completed his studies with Sammartini. From 1741 to 1745 he produced numerous operas, which were well received, and in the latter year visited London, where he brought out several works, among them "La Caduta de' Giganti." His English experience was far from satisfactory, and he soon returned to Germany, stopping at Paris on the way, where Rameau's operas had a strong influence upon him. From 1746 to 1762 he wrote a large number of operas, with varying success so far as performance was concerned, but with great and lasting benefit to his style and fame, as was shown when his "Orpheus" was first produced, Oct. 5, 1762. Its success determined him at once to acquaint the musical world with his purpose to reform the opera by making it dramatically musical instead of purely lyric, thus paving the way for the great innovator of Baireuth. "Alceste," produced in 1767, was the first embodiment of these ideas. Strong criticism greeted it, to which he replied with "Iphigenie en Aulide," written in 1772, and performed for the first time in Paris two years later, under the auspices of Marie Antoinette, who had once been his pupil. It was followed by "Orpheus and Eurydice," adapted from his earlier work of the same name, which met with brilliant success. In 1777 he brought out "Armide." It aroused an unprecedented excitement. Piccini was at that time in Paris. He was the representative of the old Italian school. His partisans gathered about him, and a furious war was waged between the Gluckists and Piccinists for three or four years; the combatants displaying a bitterness of criticism and invective even worse than that which Wagner brought down upon his devoted head. When Gluck brought out his great work, "Iphigenie en Tauride," in 1779, however, the Piccinists quitted the field and acknowledged the reformer's superiority. "Echo et Narcisse" was written in the same year, but "Iphigenie en Tauride" was his last great work. He retired shortly afterwards to Vienna, where he died Nov. 15, 1787.

ORPHEUS.

"Orpheus," the libretto by the Italian poet Calzabigi, was first produced at Vienna, Oct. 5, 1762, and for the first time outlined the new ideas which Gluck had advanced for the reform of the lyric stage. Twelve years later the composer revised the work. Several new numbers were added, its acts were extended to three, and the principal role was rewritten for a high tenor in place of the alto, to whom it had been originally assigned. In this form it was brought out at the Paris Academie, Aug. 2, 1774. In 1859 it was revived in Paris, for which occasion Berlioz restored the original alto part for Mme. Viardot-Garcia. With its performances in this country by the American Opera Troupe during the season of 1885-86, under the direction of Mr. Theodore Thomas, our readers are already familiar. The three soloists during that season were Helene Hastreiter, Emma Juch, and Minnie Dilthey.

The story, except in its denouement, closely follows the antique legend. After performing the funeral rites of Eurydice, Orpheus resolves to seek for her in the world of Shades, having received permission from Zeus upon condition that he will not look upon her until they have safely returned. Orpheus descends to Hades; and though his way is barred by phantoms, his pleading appeals and the tender tones of his harp induce them to make way for him. He finds Eurydice in the Elysian fields, and taking her by the hand leads her on to the upper world. In a fatal moment he yields to her desire to see him, and she sinks back lifeless. Love, however, comes to the rescue, and full of compassion restores her. Thus the happy lovers are reunited; and the opera closes without the tragic denouement of the old myth. In the American performances the opera was divided into four acts, which is the order we shall follow.

The short overture is characterized by a grandeur and solemnity that well befit the pathetic story. The curtain rises upon a grotto containing the tomb of Eurydice, against which Orpheus mournfully leans, while upon its steps youths and maidens are strewing flowers as they chant the sombre song, "Ah! in our still and mournful Meadow." The sad wail of Orpheus upon the single word "Eurydice" is heard through its strains, which continually increase in solemnity. At last, as if too much to bear, Orpheus interrupts their threnody with the words, "The Sounds of your Lament increase my bitter Anguish." The chorus in reply resumes its melancholy tribute to Eurydice and then retires, leaving Orpheus alone, who in a monologue full of pathos and sorrow ("My Eurydice! my Eurydice! lost forever"), sings his grief and implores the gods to restore his loved one. In answer to his prayer, Amor, god of love, appears and announces that the gods have been moved to compassion; and if his song and lyre can appease the phantoms, death shall give back Eurydice upon the conditions already named. The act closes with the joyful song of Orpheus: "Will pitying Heaven with wondrous Favor restore mine own?"

The second act opens in the abysses of the underworld. Flames shoot up amid great masses of rock and from yawning caverns, throwing their lurid glare upon the phantoms, who writhing in furious indignation demand in wild and threatening chorus, as the tones of Orpheus's lyre are heard, "Who through this awful Place, thinking alive to pass, rashly dares venture here?" Madly they call upon Cerberus "to kill thy new Prey here." The barking of the triple-headed monster is heard in the tones of the orchestra. They surround Orpheus as he approaches, and with renewed clamor continue this thrilling chorus. In the midst of its cruel intensity is heard the appealing voice of Orpheus ("In Pity be moved by my Grief"). With overwhelming wrath comes the reiterated monosyllable, "No," from the Furies,--one of the most daring and powerful effects ever made in dramatic music,--followed by another appalling chorus, as they announce to him, "These are the Depths of Hell, where the Avengers dwell." At last they are touched by the charm of his music and the sorrow of his story; and as their fury dies away, the song of Orpheus grows more exultant as he contemplates the reunion with Eurydice.

The gates of the lower world are opened, and in the third act Orpheus enters Elysium. The scene begins with a tender, lovely song by Eurydice and her companions ("In this tranquil and lovely Abode of the Blest"), the melody taken by the flute with string accompaniment. All is bright and cheerful and in striking contrast with the gloom and terror of the Stygian scene we have just left. After a short recitative ("How mild a Day, without a Noon"), Orpheus seeks her. She is brought to him by a crowd of shadows; and breaking out in joyful song he takes her by the hand and turns his face to the upper world.

The fourth act is almost entirely an impassioned duet between Orpheus and Eurydice. He releases her hand for fear that he may turn and look upon her. Eurydice chides him ("Am I changed or grown old that thou wilt not behold me?"). In vain he urges her to follow him. She upbraids him for his coldness, and demands one glance as a test of his love. He still refuses, and then she sorrowfully bids him farewell. At last, overcome with weariness and sorrow, he gazes upon her; and at that instant she falls lifeless. Then Orpheus breaks out in that immortal song, the _Che faro senza Eurydice_ ("I have lost my Eurydice"), the beauty and pathos of which neither time nor change of musical custom can ever mar. He is about to take his life with his sword; but Amor suddenly appears upon the scene, stays his hand, and tells him the gods are moved by his sufferings. He restores Eurydice to life, and the opera closes with a beautiful terzetto in Love's temple. The denouement is followed by ballet music.

GOETZ.

Hermann Goetz, to whose life attaches a mournful interest, was born at Koenigsberg, Dec. 17, 1840. He had no regular instruction in music until his seventeenth year. At that period he began his studies with Koehler, and then passed successively under the tuition of Stern, Ulrich, and Von Buelow. At the age of twenty-three he obtained a position as organist at Winterthur, and also taught at Zurich. It was during this time that he composed his opera, "The Taming of the Shrew," meanwhile supporting himself as he best could, sometimes struggling with actual poverty. For years he attempted to secure a hearing for his opera; but it was not until 1874 that its great merit was recognized, for in that year it was produced at Mannheim with instant success. Its fame travelled all over Germany. It was performed in Vienna in 1875, and the same year in Leipsic and Berlin, and reached London in 1878. It was not heard in this country until the season of 1885-86, when it was produced by the American Opera Company. The composer did not live long enough, however, to enjoy the fruits of his work, as he died in 1876. He also left behind him an unfinished score of a second opera, "Francesca di Rimini," which was completed by his friend Franke at his request, but proved a failure. His other works include a symphony in F, a suite for orchestra, and many chamber compositions.

THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.

"The Taming of the Shrew," as related in the sketch of the composer's life, was written about the year 1863, and first produced at Mannheim in 1872. Its first performance in this country was in January, 1886, when the cast was as follows:--

KATHARINE PAULINE L'ALLEMAND.
BIANCA KATE BENSBERG.
PETRUCHIO WILLIAM H. LEE.
BAPTISTA W.H. HAMILTON.
LUCENTIO W.H. FESSENDEN.
HORTENSIO ALONZO STODDARD.
A TAILOR JOHN HOWSON.

The libretto is freely adapted from Shakspeare's comedy by Joseph Victor Widmann. The plot is very simple. Baptista, a rich Paduan gentleman, has two daughters,--Katharine, the shrew, and Bianca, of sweet and lovable disposition. Both Hortensio and Lucentio are in love with Bianca; but the obdurate father will not listen to either until Katharine shall have been married. In this apparently hopeless situation a gleam of comfort appears, in the suit which the rich gallant Petruchio, of Verona, pays to Katharine, in disgust with the sycophants who have been manifesting such deference to his wealth. The remainder of the story is occupied with the details of the various processes by which he breaks and tames the shrew, and the ingenious ruse by which Lucentio gains the hand of the lovely Bianca.

The curtain rises upon a night scene in Padua, with Lucentio before Bianca's house singing a melodious serenade. Its strains are interrupted, however, by a hurly-burly in the house, caused by the shrew's demonstrations. The tumult is transferred to the street, and gives occasion for a very vigorous ensemble. When the crowd disperses, Lucentio resumes his serenade, Bianca appears upon the balcony, and the two join in a very pleasing duet. This number is also interrupted by Hortensio, at the head of a band of street musicians, who has also come to serenade his mistress. The encounter of the two lovers brings on a quarrel, which is averted, however, by the interposition of Baptista. A duet follows between them, at the close of which Lucentio retires. Petruchio now appears upon the scene, and learns from Hortensio of Katharine's vixenish disposition, which determines him to woo her. With a stirring song ("She is a Wife for such a Man created"), the act comes to an end.

The second act opens in a chamber in Baptista's house, where Katharine is berating Bianca for accepting serenades from suitors, and abuses her even to blows. The scene closes with a vigorous song for Katharine ("I'll give myself to no one"), which is greeted with cynical applause by Petruchio, Baptista, Lucentio, and Hortensio, who enter, the last two disguised as teachers. In the next scene, Petruchio and Katharine alone, we have the turbulent wooing, which is accompanied throughout by characteristic music. As the others return Petruchio announces his success in the song, "All is well," the theme of which is taken by the quintet, closing the act.

The third is the most interesting act of the three. It opens on the day selected for the wedding of Katharine and Petruchio, in Baptista's garden; the first number being a charming quintet for Katharine, Bianca, Lucentio, Hortensio, and Baptista. The guests are present, but Petruchio is not there. An explanation is made, followed by a chorus as the guests leave; and then Bianca is free to take her lessons, in one of which Lucentio makes his avowal of love to her. The arrangement of the two lessons is both unique and skilful. Lucentio turns the familiar opening lines of the AEneid, "Arma virumque cano," etc., into a love-song by declarations interposed between them; while Hortensio explains the mysteries of the scale to her, each line of his love-song beginning with one of its letters. It is soon found, however, that Lucentio is the accepted lover. Baptista now enters and announces Petruchio's return, which leads to a charming quartet. The finale of the opera, which is very spirited, includes the preparations for the marriage-feast, the wedding, and the scene in which Petruchio abruptly forces his bride to leave with him for his country house.

GOLDMARK.

Karl Goldmark was born at Keszthely, Hungary, May 18, 1832. He first studied with the violinist Jansa at Vienna, and in his fifteenth year entered the Conservatory in that city. Little is known of the events of his early life. Indeed, his success in his profession is generally credited more to his native ability and industry than to the influence of teachers or schools. He began composition at an early period, and produced his works in concerts with much success under the encouragement of Hellmesberger and others, who recognized his ability before he had made any impression out of Vienna. Four of his compositions during the past fifteen years, the "Sakuntala" overture, the operas "The Queen of Sheba" and "Merlin," and "Die Iaendliche Hochzeit" (The Country Wedding) symphony have made a permanent reputation for him. The overture and operas have been performed several times in this country. Besides these he has written several pieces of chamber music.

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.

"The Queen of Sheba" was first produced in Vienna, March 10, 1875, and was first heard in this country at New York, Dec. 2, 1885, when the cast was as follows:--

KING SOLOMON Herr ROBINSON.
HIGH-PRIEST Herr FISCHER.
SULAMITH Frauelein LEHMANN.
ASSAD Herr STRITT.
BAAL HANAN Herr ALEXI.
QUEEN OF SHEBA Frau KRAMER-WEIDL.
ASTAROTH Frauelein BRANDT.

The libretto by Mosenthal is one of rare excellence in its skilful treatment of situations and arrangement of scenes with the view to spectacular and dramatic effect. The Biblical story has but little to do with the action of the opera beyond the mere fact of the famous visit of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon. The stirring episodes during the journey and the visit spring from the librettist's imagination. The story in substance is as follows:--

King Solomon, learning of the Queen's intention to visit him, sends his favorite courtier Assad to escort her. While she waits outside the gates of Jerusalem, Assad announces her arrival to the King and Sulamith, the daughter of the high-priest, to whom the courtier is affianced. Observing his disturbed looks, the King, after dismissing his attendants, inquires the cause. Assad replies that on their journey through the forest he had encountered a nymph bathing whose beauty had so impressed him as to banish even the thoughts of his affianced. The wise Solomon counsels him to marry Sulamith at once. Meanwhile the Queen comes into the King's presence, and as she lifts her veil reveals the unknown fair one. She affects ignorance of Assad's passion; but when she learns that he is to wed Sulamith love for him springs up in her own breast. Upon the day of the wedding ceremony Assad, carried away by his longing for the Queen, declares her to be his divinity, and is condemned to death for profaning the Temple. Both the Queen and Sulamith appeal to the King for mercy. He consents at last to save his life, but banishes him to the desert. The Queen seeks him there, and makes an avowal of her love; but Assad repulses her. As Sulamith comes upon the scene a simoom sweeps across the desert. They perish in each other's arms; while in a mirage the Queen and her attendants are seen journeying to their home.

The first act opens in the great hall of Solomon's palace with a brilliant, joyous chorus ("Open the Halls, adorn the Portals") in praise of the King's glory. After the entrance of the high-priest, Sulamith sings a fascinating bridal song ("My own Assad returns"), richly oriental both in music and sentiment, dreamy and luxurious in its tone, and yet full of joyous expectation, with characteristic choral refrain and dainty accompaniment. The fourth and fifth scenes are full of agitation and unrest, and lead up to Assad's explanation of his perturbed condition ("At Lebanon's Foot I met Arabia's Queen"), a monologue aria of rich glowing color and reaching a fine dramatic climax as it progresses from its sensuous opening to the passionate intensity of its finale. It is followed by the entrance of the Queen, accompanied by a brilliant march and a jubilant chorus ("To the Sun of the South our Welcome we bring") and a stirring concerted number, describing the recognition of the Queen by Assad; after which the chorus resumes its jubilant strain, bringing the act to a close.

The second act opens in the gardens of the palace and discloses the Queen, who gives expression to her love for Assad and her hatred of Sulamith in an impassioned aria ("Let me from the festal Splendor"). In the second scene Astaroth, her slave, appears and lures Assad by a weird strain, which is one of the most effective passages in the opera ("As the Heron calls in the Reeds"). After a short arioso by Assad ("Magical Sounds, intoxicating Fragrance"), a passionate duet with the Queen follows, interrupted by the call of the Temple-guard to prayer. The scene changes to the interior of the sanctuary with its religious service; and with it the music changes also to solemn Hebrew melodies with the accompaniment of the sacred instruments, leading up to the stirring finale in which Assad declares his passion for the Queen, amid choruses of execration by the people.

The third act opens in the banquet-hall upon a scene of festivity introduced by the graceful bee dance of the Almas. It is followed by the powerful appeal of the Queen for Assad's life, rising to an intensely dramatic pitch as she warns the King of the revenge of her armed hosts ("When Sheba's iron Lances splinter and Zion's Throne in Ruins falls"). In sad contrast comes the mournful chant which accompanies Sulamith as she passes to the vestal's home ("The Hour that robbed me of him"), and ends in her despairing cry rising above the chorus of attendants as Solomon also refuses her petition.

The last act passes in the desert. Assad beneath a solitary palm-tree laments the destiny which pursues him ("Whither shall I wend my weary Steps?"). In the next scene the Queen appears, and an agitated duet follows, ending with her repulse. Assad in despair calls upon death to relieve him. The sky darkens. Clouds of sand envelop the fugitive. The palm bends before the blast as the simoom sweeps by. The storm at last subsides. The sky grows brighter; and the Queen and her attendants, with their elephants and camels, appear in a mirage journeying eastward as Sulamith and her lover expire in each other's arms. As their duet dies away, the chorus of maidens brings the act to a close with a few strains from the love-song in the first act.

MERLIN.

The opera of "Merlin" was first performed at Vienna, Nov. 17, 1886, and was heard for the first time in this country at New York, Jan. 3, 1887, under the direction of Mr. Walter Damrosch, with the following cast:--

KING ARTHUR Herr ROBINSON.
MODRED Herr KEMLITZ.
LANCELOT Herr BURSCH.
GAWEIN Herr HEINRICH.
GLENDOWER Herr VON MILDE.
MERLIN Herr ALVARY.
VIVIANE Frauelein LEHMANN.
BEDWYR Herr SIEGLITZ.
THE FAY MORGANA Frauelein BRANDT.
THE DEMON Herr FISCHER.

The libretto of the opera is by Siegfried Lipiner. The scene is laid in Wales, and the hero, Merlin, is familiar as one of the knights of King Arthur's round-table. The story is as follows:--

The Devil, ambitious to banish all good from the world, unites himself to a virgin in order that he may beget a child who shall aid him in his fell purpose. The child is Merlin, who partakes of the mother's goodness, and instead of aiding his father, seeks to thwart his design. The Devil thereupon consults the Fay Morgana, who tells him that Merlin will lose his power if he falls in love. In the opening scene King Arthur sends Lancelot to Merlin for aid, who promises him victory and achieves it by the assistance of his familiar, a demon, who is in league with the Devil. Tired of his service to Merlin, the demon contrives to have him meet the beautiful Viviane, with whom he falls in love. The second act transpires in Merlin's enchanted garden, and reveals his growing passion, and at the same time his waning power of magic; for when once more Arthur summons his aid he attempts to tear himself away from her only to realize his weakness. She seeks to detain him by throwing a magic veil over him which has been given her by the demon; in an instant the scene changes, and Merlin appears confined to a rock by fiery chains, while the demon mocks him from a neighboring eminence, and Viviane gives way to anguish. In the last act Viviane is told by the Fay Morgana that Merlin's release can only be secured by woman's self-sacrifice. Once more an appeal for help comes to him from Arthur, and he promises his soul to the demon in exchange for his freedom. His chains fall off. He rushes into the battle and secures the victory, but is fatally wounded. The demon claims him; but Viviane, remembering the words of the Fay Morgana, stabs herself and thus balks him of his expectant prey.

Like Wagner's operas, "Merlin" has its motives, the principal ones being that of the demon, or the evil principle, and two love motives. In its general treatment it is also Wagnerish. The first scene opens with the spirited message of Lancelot to Glendower, beseeching Merlin's aid for the hard-pressed Arthur. It is followed by the strains of Merlin's harp in the castle and his assurance of victory, and these in turn by very descriptive incantation music summoning the demon and the supernatural agencies which will compass the defeat of Arthur's enemies. Then comes the interview between the demon and the Fay Morgana, in which he learns the secret of Merlin's weakness. In the next scene Arthur returns from his victory over the Saxons to the tempo of a stirring march, and accompanied by the joyous choruses of women. A vigorous episode, in which Bedwyr, one of Arthur's knights, is charged with treachery, is followed by Merlin's chant of victory with chorus accompaniment. As its strains die away a distant horn announces Viviane, who makes her appearance singing a breezy hunting song with her maidens, leading up to a spirited septet. Then follows the baffled attempt of Viviane to crown Merlin, the scene closing with a repetition of the chant of victory and the choruses of jubilation.

The second act opens in the enchanted gardens of Merlin; and the first scene reveals a conspiracy to seize the crown during Arthur's absence and proclaim Modred king, and the farewell of Arthur and his suite to Merlin. The magic-veil scene follows with its fascinating dance tempos, and leads with its graceful measures up to the passionate love-scene between Merlin and Viviane, which is harshly broken in upon by the clash of arms between Modred and his perfidious companions and the faithful friends of Arthur. A dramatic scene of great energy follows, in which Viviane at last throws the magic veil around Merlin with the transforming results already told.

The last act opens with Viviane's mournful lament for the wretched fate which she has brought down upon her lover, and the announcement of the means by which he may be released made to her in slumber by the Fay Morgana. Her maidens seek to rouse her with choral appeals, in which are heard phrases of her hunting song. Meanwhile mocking spirits appear about Merlin and taunt him in characteristic music. Then follows the compact with the demon, which releases him. He rushes into the battle accompanied by an exultant song from Viviane; but soon the funeral march, as his followers bear him from the field, tells the mournful story of his fate. A very dramatic ensemble contains the deed of self-sacrifice, by which Viviane ends her life to redeem Merlin from the demon, and with this powerful effect the opera closes.

GOUNOD.

Charles Francois Gounod was born, in Paris, June 17, 1818. He studied music in the Conservatory, under the direction of Halevy, Lesueur, and Paer, and in 1839 obtained the first prize, and, under the usual regulations, went to Italy. While at Rome he devoted himself largely to religious music. On his return to Paris he became organist of the Missions Etrangeres, and for a time seriously thought of taking orders. In 1851, however, he brought out his first opera, "Sappho," which met with success. At this point his active career began. In 1852 he became conductor of the Orpheon, and wrote the choruses for Ponsard's tragedy of "Ulysse." The year 1854 brought a five-act opera, "La Nonne Sanglante," founded on a legend in Lewis's "Monk." In 1858 he made his first essay in opera comique, and produced "Le Medecin malgre lui," which met with remarkable success. The next year "Faust" was performed, and placed him in the front rank of living composers. "Philemon et Baucis" appeared in 1860, and "La Reine de Saba," which was afterwards performed in English as "Irene," in 1862. In 1863 he brought out the pretty pastoral opera "Mireille." This was succeeded in 1866 by "La Colombe," known in English as "The Pet Dove," and in 1867 by "Romeo et Juliette." In 1877 he produced "Cinq Mars," and in 1878 his last opera, "Polyeucte." He has also written much church music, the more important works being the "Messe Solenelle," a "Stabat Mater," the oratorio "Tobie," a "De Profundis," an "Ave Verum," and many single hymns and songs, among which "Nazareth" is universally popular. His list of compositions for orchestra is also very large, and includes such popular pieces as the "Saltarello," "Funeral March of a Marionette," and the Meditation, based on Bach's First Prelude, which is accompanied by a soprano solo. He was elected a member of the Institut de France in 1866.

FAUST.

"Faust," a grand opera in five acts, words by Barbier and Carre, founded upon Goethe's tragedy, was first produced at the Theatre Lyrique, Paris, March 19, 1859, with the following cast of the principal parts:--

MARGUERITE Mme. MIOLAN-CARVALHO.
SIEBEL Mlle. FAIVRE.
FAUST M. BARBOT.
VALENTIN M. REGNAL.
MEPHISTOPHELES M. BALANQUE.
MARTHA Mme. DUCLOS.

The opera was first produced in London as "Faust," June 11, 1863; in English, Jan. 23, 1864; and in Germany as "Margarethe."

The story of the opera follows Goethe's tragedy very closely, and is confined to the first part. It may be briefly told. Faust, an aged German student, satiated with human knowledge and despairing of his ability to unravel the secrets of nature, summons the evil spirit Mephistopheles to his assistance, and contracts to give him his soul in exchange for a restoration to youth. Mephistopheles effects the transformation, and reveals to him the vision of Marguerite, a beautiful village maiden, with whom Faust at once falls in love. They set out upon their travels and encounter her at the Kermesse. She has been left by her brother Valentin, a soldier, in care of Dame Martha, who proves herself a careless guardian. Their first meeting is a casual one; but subsequently he finds her in her garden, and with the help of the subtle Mephistopheles succeeds in engaging the young girl's affection. Her simple lover, Siebel, is discarded, and his nosegay is thrown away at sight of the jewels with which Faust tempts her. When Valentin returns from the wars he learns of her temptation and subsequent ruin. He challenges the seducer, and in the encounter is slain by the intervention of Mephistopheles. Overcome by the horror of her situation, Marguerite becomes insane, and in her frenzy kills her child. She is thrown into prison, where Faust and Mephistopheles find her. Faust urges her to fly with them, but she refuses, and places her reliance for salvation upon earnest prayer, and sorrow for the wrong she has done. Pleading for forgiveness, she expires; and as Mephistopheles exults at the catastrophe he has wrought, angels appear amid the music of the celestial choirs and bear the sufferer to heaven.

The first act is in the nature of a prelude, and opens with a long soliloquy ("Interrogo invano") by Faust, in which he laments the unsatisfactoriness of life. It is interwoven with delightful snatches of chorus heard behind the scenes, a duet with Mephistopheles ("Ma il ciel"), and the delicate music accompanying the vision of Marguerite.

The second act is contained in a single setting, the Kermesse, in which the chorus plays an important part. In the first scene the choruses of students, soldiers, old men, girls, and matrons are quaintly contrasted, and are full of animation and characteristic color. In the second, Valentin sings a tender song ("O santa medaglia") to a medallion of his sister which he wears as a charm. It is followed by a grim and weird drinking-song ("Dio dell' or"), sung by Mephistopheles. The latter then strikes fire from the fountain into his cup, and proposes the health of Marguerite. Valentin springs forward to resent the insult, only to find his sword broken in his hands. The students and soldiers recognize the spirit of evil, and overcome him by presenting the hilts of their swords in the form of a cross, the scene being accompanied by one of the most effective choruses in the work ("Tu puvi la spada"). The tempter gone, the scene resumes its gayety, and the act closes with one of the most animated and delightful of waltz tempos ("Come la brezza").