Chapter I: Pagliacci (4)

The last act opens in Reinhart's house with a passionate scene between the Secretary and his wife, containing two strong numbers, a minor andante ("Morro, ma prima in grazia") for Amelia, and an aria for Reinhart ("O dolcezzo perdute"), which for originality and true artistic power is worthy of being classed as an inspiration. The conspiracy music then begins, and leads to the ball scene, which is most brilliantly worked up with orchestra, military band, and stringed quartet behind the scenes supplying the dance-music, and the accompaniment to the tragical conspiracy, in the midst of which, like a bright sunbeam, comes the page's bewitching song, "Saper vorreste." The opera closes with the death of Richard, set to a very dramatic accompaniment. "The Masked Ball" was the last work Verdi wrote for the Italian stage, and though uneven in its general effect, it contains some of his most original and striking numbers,--particularly those allotted to the page and Reinhart. In the intensity of the music and the strength of the situations it is superior even to "Trovatore," as the composer makes his effects more legitimately.

AIDA.

"Aida," an opera in four acts, was first produced at Cairo, Egypt, Dec. 27, 1871, and was written upon a commission from the Khedive of that country. The subject of the opera was taken from a sketch, originally written in prose, by the director of the Museum at Boulak, which was afterwards rendered into French verse by M. Camille de Locle, and translated thence into Italian for Verdi by Sig. A. Ghizlandoni. It is the last opera Verdi has composed, and is notable for his departure from the conventional Italian forms and the partial surrender he has made to the constantly increasing influence of the so-called music of the future. The subject is entirely Egyptian, and the music is full of Oriental color.

The action of the opera passes in Memphis and Thebes, and the period is in the time of the Pharaohs. Aida, the heroine, is a slave, daughter of Amonasro, the King of Ethiopia, and at the opening of the opera is in captivity among the Egyptians. A secret attachment exists between herself and Rhadames, a young Egyptian warrior, who is also loved by Amneris, daughter of the sovereign of Egypt. The latter suspects that she has a rival, but does not discover her until Rhadames returns victorious from an expedition against the rebellious Amonasro, who is brought back a prisoner. The second act opens with a scene between Amneris and Aida, in which the Princess wrests the secret from the slave by pretending that Rhadames has been killed; and the truth is still further revealed when Rhadames pleads with the King to spare the lives of the captives. The latter agrees to release all but Aida and Amonasro, bestows the hand of Amneris upon the unwilling conqueror, and the act closes amid general jubilation. Acting upon Amonasro's admonitions, Aida influences Rhadames to fly from Egypt and espouse the cause of her father. The lovers are overheard by Amneris and Ramfis, the high priest. The Princess, with all the fury of a woman scorned, denounces Rhadames as a traitor. He is tried for treason and condemned to be buried alive in the vaults under the temple of the god Phtah. Pardon is offered him if he will accept the hand of Amneris, but he refuses and descends to the tomb, where he finds Aida awaiting him. The stones are sealed above them and the lovers are united in death, while Amneris, heart-broken over the tragedy her jealousy has caused, kneels in prayer before their sepulchre.

After a short prelude, consisting of a beautiful pianissimo movement, mainly for the violins, and very Wagnerish in its general style, the first act opens in a hall of the King's palace at Memphis. A short dialogue between Rhadames and the priest Ramfis leads to a delicious romanza ("Celeste Aida") which is entirely fresh and original, recalling nothing that appears in any of Verdi's previous works. It is followed by a strong declamatory duet between Rhadames and Amneris, which upon the appearance of Aida develops to a trio ("Vieni, o diletta"). In the next scene the King and his retinue of ministers, priests, and warriors enter, and a majestic ensemble occurs, beginning with a martial chorus ("Su! del Nilo") in response to the appeal of the priests. As the war chorus dies away and the retinue disappears, Aida has a scena of great power. It begins with a lament for her country ("Ritorna vincitor"), in passionate declamatory phrases, clearly showing the influence of Wagner; but in its smooth, flowing cantabile in the finale, "Numi pieta," Verdi returns to the Italian style again. The final scene is full of oriental color and barbaric richness of display. The consecrated arms are delivered to Rhadames. The priestesses behind the scene to the accompaniment of harps, and the priests in front with sonorous chant, invoke the aid of the god Phtah, while other priestesses execute the sacred dance. An impressive duet between Ramfis and Rhadames closes the act. In this finale, Verdi has utilized two native Egyptian themes,--the melody sung by the priestesses with the harps, and the dance-melody given out by the flutes.

The second act opens with a female chorus by the slave girls, the rhythm of which is in keeping with the oriental scene, followed by an impassioned duet between Amneris and Aida ("Alla pompa che si appresta"), through which are heard the martial strains of the returning conqueror. The second scene opens the way for another ensemble, which with its massive choruses, and its stirring march and ballet, heralding the victory of Rhadames, is one of the most picturesque stage scenes the opera has ever furnished. A solemn, plaintive strain runs through the general jubilation in the appeal of Amonasro ("Questo assisa ch' io vesto") to the King for mercy to the captives. The finale begins with the remonstrances of the priests and people against the appeals of Amonasro and Rhadames, and closes with an intensely dramatic concerted number,--a quintet set off against the successive choruses of the priests, prisoners, and people ("Gloria all' Egitto").

The third act, like the first, after a brief dialogue, opens with a lovely romanza ("O cieli azzuri") sung by Aida, and the remainder of the act is devoted to two duets,--the first between Amonasro and Aida, and the second between Rhadames and Aida. Each is very dramatic in style and passionate in declamation, while they are revelations in the direction of combining the poetic and musical elements, when compared with any of the duets in Verdi's previous operas. In the last act the first scene contains another impressive duet between Rhadames and Amneris ("Chi ti salva, o sciagurato"), ending with the despairing song of Amneris, "Ohime! morir mi sento." In the last scene the stage is divided into two parts. The upper represents the temple of Vulcan, or Phtah, crowded with priests and priestesses, chanting as the stone is closed over the subterranean entrance, while below, in the tomb, Aida and Rhadames sing their dying duet ("O terra, addio"), its strains blending with the jubilation of the priests and the measures of the priestesses' sacred dance. "Aida" is the last and unquestionably the greatest, if not the most popular, of Verdi's works. It marks a long step from the style of his other operas towards the production of dramatic effect by legitimate musical means, and shows the strong influence Wagner has had upon him. Since this work was produced, no other for the stage has come from his pen. Should he break his long silence, some new work may show that he has gone still farther in the new path. If the time for rest has come, however, to the aged composer, "Aida" will remain his masterpiece among musicians and connoisseurs, though "Trovatore" will be best loved by the people.

OTHELLO.

Othello has formed the subject of the following compositions: "Otello," opera in 3 acts, text by Berio, music by Rossini (1816); "Othelleri," parody by Mueller, Vienna (1828); Othello, overture by Krug (1883); "Un Othello," operetta, by Legoux, Paris (1863); and "Othello," opera in 4 acts, text by Boito, music by Verdi (1886).

"Othello," the last of the long and brilliant series of Verdi's operas, was completed in 1886, and first produced at the La Scala Theatre, Milan, Feb. 5,

1887, with remarkable success, Signora Pantaleoni, Signors Maurel and Tamagno taking the three leading roles. The libretto was prepared by the accomplished Italian scholar and musician, Arrigo Boito, and closely follows the story of the Shakspearian tragedy.

The curtain rises upon a scene in Cyprus. A storm is raging, and a crowd, among them Iago, Cassio, and Roderigo, watch the angry sea, speculating upon the fate of Othello's vessel, which finally arrives safely in port amid much rejoicing. After returning the welcomes of his friends he enters the castle with Cassio and Montano. The conspiracy at once begins by the disclosure of Iago to Roderigo of the means by which Cassio's ruin may be compassed. Then follows the quarrel, which is interrupted by the appearance of Othello, who deprives Cassio of his office. A love-scene ensues between Desdemona and the Moor; but in the next act the malignity of Iago has already begun to take effect, and the seeds of jealousy are sown in Othello's breast. His suspicions are freshly aroused when Desdemona intercedes in Cassio's behalf, and are changed to conviction by the handkerchief episode and Iago's artful insinuation that Cassio mutters the name of Desdemona in his sleep; at which the enraged Moor clutches him by the throat and hurls him to the ground. In the third act Iago continues his diabolical purpose, at last so inflaming Othello's mind that he denounces Desdemona for her perfidy. The act concludes with the audience to the Venetian embassy, during which he becomes enraged, strikes Desdemona, and falls in convulsions. The last act transpires in her chamber, and follows Shakspeare in all the details of the smothering of Desdemona and the death of Othello.

There is no overture proper to the opera. After a few vigorous bars of prelude, the scene opens with a tempestuous and very striking description of a sea-storm by the orchestra, with the choruses of sailors and Cypriots rising above it and expressing alternate hope and terror. After a short recitative the storm dies away, and the choral phrases of rejoicing end in a pianissimo effect. A hurried recitative passage between Iago and Roderigo introduces a drinking scene in which Iago sings a very original and expressive brindisi with rollicking responses by the chorus. The quarrel follows with a vigorous and agitated accompaniment, and the act comes to a close with a beautiful love-duet between Othello and Desdemona.

The second act opens with recitative which reveals all of Iago's malignity, and is followed by his monologue, in which he sings a mock Credo which is Satanic in utterance. It is accompanied with tremendous outbursts of trumpets, and leads up to a furious declamatory duet with Othello. The next number brings a grateful change. It is a graceful mandolinata, sung by children's voices and accompanied by mandolins and guitars, followed by a charming chorus of mariners, who bring shells and corals to Desdemona. The intercession episode ensues, leading to a grand dramatic quartet for Desdemona, Emilia, Iago, and Othello. The latter then sings a pathetic but stirring melody with trumpet accompaniment, the farewell to war, and the act closes with a tumultuous duet between himself and Iago.

The third act opens with a very expressive duet for Othello and Desdemona, in which the growing wrath of the former and the sweet and touching unconsciousness of the other are happily contrasted. A sad monologue by Othello prepares the way for the coming outbreak. The handkerchief trio follows, in which the malignity of Iago, the indignation of Othello, and the inability of Cassio to understand the fell purpose of Iago are brought out with great force. At its close a fanfare of trumpets announces the Venetian embassy, and the finale begins with much brilliancy. Then follows the scene in which Othello smites down Desdemona. She supplicates for mercy in an aria of tender beauty, which leads up to a strong sextet. All the guests depart but Iago; and as Othello, overcome with his emotions, swoons away, the curtain falls upon Iago's contemptuous utterance, "There lies the lion of Venice."

The fourth act is full of musical beauty. After an orchestral introduction in which the horn has a very effective solo, the curtain rises and the action transpires in Desdemona's chamber. The scene opens with a touching recitative between Desdemona and Emilia. While the former prepares herself for slumber she sings the "Willow Song," an unaffected melody as simple and characteristic as a folk-song. Emilia retires, and by a natural transition Desdemona sings an "Ave Maria," which is as simple and beautiful in its way as the "Willow Song." She retires to her couch, and in the silence Othello steals in, dagger in hand, the contra-basses giving out a sombre and deep-toned accompaniment which is startling in its effect. He kisses her, the motive from the love-duet appearing in the orchestra; then, after a hurried dialogue, stifles her. He then kills himself, his last words being a repetition of those in the duet, while the strings tenderly give out the melody again.

FALSTAFF.

"Falstaff," an opera in three acts, words by Arrigo Boito, was first performed March 12, 1893, at the Teatro alla Scala, Milan, with the following cast of characters:--

Mistress FORD Signora ZILLI
NANNETTA Madame STEHLE
FENTON M. GARBIN
Dr. CAIUS Signor PAROLI
PISTOLA Signor ARIMONDI
Mistress PAGE Signora GUERRINI
Mistress QUICKLY Signora PASQUA
FORD Signor PINI-CORSI
BARDOLFO Signor PELAGALLI-ROSSETTI
FALSTAFF M. MAUREL

The libretto, which is mainly based upon "The Merry Wives of Windsor," also makes some contributions upon "Henry IV.," particularly in the introduction of the monologue upon honor, and illustrates Boito's skill in adaptation as well as his remarkable powers in condensation. In the arrangement of the comedy the five acts are reduced to three. The characters Shallow, Slender, William, Page, Sir Hugh Evans, Simple, and Rugby are eliminated, leaving Falstaff, Fenton, Ford, Dr. Caius, Bardolph, Pistol, Mistress Ford, Mistress Page, Anne, Dame Quickly and three minor characters as the _dramatis personae_, though Anne appears as Nannetta and is the daughter of Ford instead of Page.

The first act opens with a scene at the Garter Inn, disclosing an interview between Falstaff and Dr. Caius, who is complaining of the ill treatment he has received from the fat Knight and his followers, but without obtaining any satisfaction. After his departure, Falstaff seeks to induce Bardolph and Pistol to carry his love-letters to Mistresses Ford and Page; but they refuse, upon the ground that their honor would be assailed, which gives occasion for the introduction of the monologue from "Henry IV." The letters are finally intrusted to a page, and the remainder of the act is devoted to the plots of the women to circumvent him, with an incidental revelation of the loves of Fenton and Nannetta, or Anne Page. In the second act, we have Falstaff's visit to Mistress Ford, as planned by the merry wives, the comical episode of his concealment in the buck-basket, and his dumping into the Thames. In the last act, undaunted by his buck-basket experiences, Falstaff accepts a fresh invitation to meet Mistress Ford in Windsor Park. In this episode occurs the fairy masquerade at Herne's Oak, in the midst of which he is set upon and beaten, ending in his complete discomfiture. Then all is explained to him; Nannetta is betrothed to Fenton; and all ends merry as a marriage bell.

There is no overture. After four bars of prelude the curtain rises, and the composer introduces Dr. Caius with the single exclamation, "Falstaff," and the latter's reply, "Ho! there," which are emblematic of the declamatory character of the whole opera; for although many delightful bits of melody are scattered through it, the instrumentation really tells the story, as in the Wagner music-drama, though in this latest work of the veteran composer there is less of the Wagnerian idea than in his "Aida." The first scene is mainly humorous dialogue, but there are two notable exceptions,--the genuine lyrical music of Falstaff's song ("'Tis she with eyes like stars"), and the Honor monologue, a superb piece of recitative with a characteristic accompaniment in which the clarinets and bassoons fairly talk, as they give the negative to the Knight's sarcastic questions. The most attractive numbers of the second scene are Mistress Ford's reading of Falstaff's letter, which is exquisitely lyrical, a quartet, a capella, for the four women ("He'll surely come courting"), followed by a contrasting male quartet ("He's a foul, a ribald thief"), the act closing with the two quartets offsetting each other, and enclosing an admirable solo for Fenton.

The second act opens with the interview between Dame Quickly and Falstaff, in which the instrumentation runs the whole gamut of ironical humor. Then follows the scene between Ford and Falstaff, in which the very clink of the money, and Falstaff's huge chuckles, are deliberately set forth in the orchestra with a realism which is the very height of the ridiculous, the scene closing with an expressive declamation by Ford ("Do I dream? Or, is it reality?"). The second scene of the act is mainly devoted to the ludicrous incident of the buck-basket, which is accompanied by most remarkable instrumentation; but there are one or more captivating episodes; such as Dame Quickly's description of her visit ("'Twas at the Garter Inn") and Falstaff's charming song ("Once I was Page to the Duke of Norfolk").

The third act opens in the Inn of the Garter, and discloses Falstaff soliloquizing upon his late disagreeable experiences:--

"Ho! landlord!
Ungrateful world, wicked world,
Guilty world!
Landlord! a glass of hot sherry.
Go, go thy way, John Falstaff,
With thee will cease the type
Of honesty, virtue, and might."

As the fat Knight soliloquizes and drinks his sack the orchestra takes part in a trill given out by piccolo, and gradually taken by one instrument after the other, until the whole orchestra is in a hearty laugh and shaking with string, brass, and wood wind glee. Then enters Dame Quickly, mischief-maker, and sets the trap at Herne's Oak in Windsor Forest, into which Falstaff readily falls. The closing scene is rich with humor. It opens with a delightful love-song by Fenton ("From those sweet lips a song of love arises"). The conspirators enter one after the other, and at last Falstaff, disguised as the sable hunter. The elves are summoned, and glide about to the delicious fairy music accompanying Nannetta's beautiful song ("While we dance in the moonlight"). From this point the action hastens to the happy denouement, and the work concludes with a fugue which is imbued with the very spirit of humor and yet is strictly constructed. While the vocal parts are extraordinary in their declamatory significance, the strength of the opera lies in the instrumentation, and its charm in the delicious fun and merriment which pervades it all and is aptly expressed in the closing lines:--

"All in this world is jesting.
Man is born to be jolly,
E'en from grief some happiness wresting
Sure proof against melancholy."

WAGNER.

Richard Wagner, who has been somewhat ironically called the musician of the future, and whose music has been relegated to posterity by a considerable number of his contemporaries, was born at Leipsic, May 22, 1813. After his preliminary studies in Dresden and Leipsic, he took his first lessons in music from Cantor Weinlig. In 1836 he was appointed musical director in the theatre at Magdeburg, and later occupied the same position at Koenigsberg. Thence he went to Riga, where he began his opera "Rienzi." He then went to Paris by sea, was nearly shipwrecked on his way thither, and landed without money or friends. After two years of hard struggling he returned to Germany. His shipwreck and forlorn condition inspired the theme of "The Flying Dutchman," and while on his way to Dresden he passed near the castle of Wartburg, in the valley of Thuringia, whose legends inspired his well-known opera of "Tannhaeuser." He next removed to Zurich, and about this time appeared "Lohengrin," one of his most favorite operas. "Tristan and Isolde" was produced in 1856, and his comic opera, "Die Meistersinger von Nuernberg," three years later. In 1864 he received the patronage of King Louis of Bavaria, which enabled him to complete and perform his great work, "Der Ring der Nibelungen." He laid the foundation of the new theatre at Baireuth in 1872, and in 1875 the work was produced, and created a profound sensation all over the musical world. "Parsifal," his last opera, was first performed in 1882. His works have aroused great opposition, especially among conservative musicians, for the reason that he has set at defiance the conventional operatic forms, and in carrying out his theory of making the musical and dramatic elements of equal importance, and employing the former as the language of the latter in natural ways, has made musical declamation take the place of set melody, and swept away the customary arias, duets, quartets, and concerted numbers of the Italian school, to suit the dramatic exigencies of the situations. Besides his musical compositions, he enjoys almost equal fame as a litterateur, having written not only his own librettos, but four important works,--"Art and the Revolution," "The Art Work of the Future," "Opera and Drama," and "Judaism in Music." His music has made steady progress through the efforts of such advocates as Liszt, Von Buelow, and Richter in Germany, Pasdeloup in France, Hueffer in England, and Theodore Thomas in the United States. In 1870 he married Frau Cosima von Buelow, the daughter of Liszt,--an event which provoked almost as much comment in social circles as his operas have in musical. He died during a visit to Venice, Feb. 13, 1883.

RIENZI.

"Rienzi der letzte der Tribunen," a tragic opera in five acts, words by the composer, the subject taken from Bulwer's novel, "The Last of the Tribunes," was first produced at Dresden, Oct. 20, 1842, with Herr Tichatscheck, Mme. Schroeder-Devrient, and Mlle. Wiest in the principal roles. It was designed and partly completed during Wagner's stay in Riga as orchestra leader. In his Autobiography the composer says that he first read the story at Dresden in 1837, and was greatly impressed with its adaptability for opera. He began it in the fall of the same year at Riga, and says: "I had composed two numbers of it, when I found, to my annoyance, that I was again fairly on the way to the composition of music a la Adam. I put the work aside in disgust." Later he projected the scheme of a great tragic opera in five acts, and began upon it with fresh enthusiasm in the fall of 1838. By the spring of 1839 the first two acts were completed. At that time his engagement at Riga terminated, and he set out for Paris. He soon found that it would be hopeless for him to bring out the opera in that city, notwithstanding Meyerbeer had promised to assist him. He offered it to the Grand Opera and to the Renaissance, but neither would accept it. Nothing daunted, he resumed work upon it, intending it for Dresden. In October, 1842, it was at last produced in that city, and met with such success that it secured him the position of capellmeister at the Dresden opera-house.

The action of the opera passes at Rome, towards the middle of the fourteenth century. The first act opens at night, in a street near the Church of St. John Lateran, and discovers Orsini, a Roman patrician, accompanied by a crowd of nobles, attempting to abduct Irene, the sister of Rienzi, a papal notary. The plot is interrupted by the entrance of Colonna, the patrician leader of another faction, who demands the girl. A quarrel ensues. Adriano, the son of Colonna, who is in love with Irene, suddenly appears and rushes to her defence. Gradually other patricians and plebeians are attracted by the tumult, among the latter, Rienzi. When he becomes aware of the insult offered his sister, he takes counsel with the Cardinal Raimondo, and they agree to rouse the people in resistance to the outrages of the nobles. Adriano is placed in an embarrassing position,--his relationship to the Colonnas urging him to join the nobles, and his love for Irene impelling him with still stronger force to make common cause with the people. He finally decides to follow Rienzi, just as the trumpets are heard calling the people to arms and Rienzi clad in full armor makes his appearance to lead them.

The struggle is a short one. The nobles are overcome, and in the second act they appear at the Capitol to acknowledge their submission to Rienzi: but Adriano, who has been among them, warns Rienzi that they have plotted to kill him. Festal dances, processions, and gladiatorial combats follow, in the midst of which Orsini rushes at Rienzi and strikes at him with his dagger. Rienzi is saved by a steel breastplate under his robes. The nobles are at once seized and condemned to death. Adriano pleads with Rienzi to spare his father, and moved by his eloquence he renews the offer of pardon if they will swear submission. They take the oath only to violate it. The people rise and demand their extermination. Rienzi once more draws the sword, and Adriano in vain appeals to him to avert the slaughter. He is again successful, and on his return announces to Adriano that the Colonnas and Orsinis are no more. The latter warns him of coming revenge, and the act closes with the coronation of Rienzi.

The fourth act opens at night near the church. The popular tide has now turned against Rienzi, upon the report that he is in league with the German Emperor to restore the pontiff. A festive cortege approaches, escorting him to the church. The nobles bar his way, but disperse at his command; whereupon Adriano rushes at him with drawn dagger, but the blow is averted as he hears the chant of malediction in the church, and sees its dignitaries placing the ban of excommunication against Rienzi upon its doors. He hurries to Irene, warns her that her brother's life is no longer safe, and urges her to fly with him. She repulses him, and seeks her brother, to share his dangers or die with him. She finds him at prayer in the Capitol. He counsels her to accept the offer of Adriano and save herself, but she repeats her determination to die with him. The sounds of the approaching crowd are heard outside. Rienzi makes a last appeal to them from the balcony, but the infuriated people will not listen. They set fire to the Capitol with their torches, and stone Rienzi and Irene through the windows. As the flames spread from room to room and Adriano beholds them enveloping the devoted pair, he throws away his sword, rushes into the burning building, and perishes with them.

The overture of "Rienzi" is in the accepted form, for the opera was written before Wagner had made his new departure in music, and takes its principal themes, notably Rienzi's prayer for the people and the finale to the first act, from the body of the work. The general style of the whole work is vigorous and tumultuous. The first act opens with a hurly-burly of tumult between the contending factions and the people. The first scene contains a vigorous aria for the hero ("Wohl an so moeg es sein"), which leads up to a fiery terzetto ("Adriano du? Wie ein Colonna!") between Rienzi, Irene, and Adriano, followed by an intensely passionate scene ("Er geht und laesst dich meinem Schutz") between the last two. The finale is a tumultuous mass of sound, through which are heard the tones of trumpets and cries of the people. It opens with a massive double chorus ("Gegruesst, gegruesst"), shouted by the people on the one side and the monks in the Lateran on the other, accompanied by an andante movement on the organ. It is interrupted for a brief space by the ringing appeal of Rienzi "Erstehe, hohe Roma, neu," and then closes with an energetic andante, a quartet joining the choruses. This finale is clearly Italian in form, and much to Wagner's subsequent disgust was described by Hanslick as a mixture of Donizetti and Meyerbeer, and a clear presage of the coming Verdi.

The second act opens with a stately march, introducing the messengers of peace, who join in a chorus of greeting, followed by a second chorus of senators and the tender of submission made by the nobles. A terzetto between Adriano, Orsini, and Colonna, set off against a chorus of the nobles, leads up to the finale. It opens with a joyful chorus ("Erschallet feier Klaenge"), followed by rapid dialogue between Orsini and Colonna on the one hand and Adriano and Rienzi on the other. A long and elaborate ballet intervenes, divided into several numbers,--an Introduction, Pyrrhic Dance, Combat of Roman Gladiators and Cavaliers, and the Dance of the Apotheosis, in which the Goddess of Peace is transformed to the Goddess, protector of Rome. The scene abruptly changes, and the act closes with a great ensemble in which the defiance of the conspirators, the tolling of bells, the chants of the monks, and the ferocious outcries of the people shouting for revenge are mingled in strong contrasts.

The third act is full of tumult. After a brief prelude, amid the ringing of bells and cries of alarm, the people gather and denounce the treachery of the nobles, leading up to a spirited call to arms by Rienzi ("Ihr Roemer, auf"). The people respond in furious chorus, and as the sound of the bells and battle-cries dies away Adriano enters. His scene opens with a prayer ("Gerechter Gott") for the aversion of carnage, which changes to an agitated allegro ("Wo war ich?") as he hears the great bell of the Capitol tolling the signal for slaughter. The finale begins with a massive march, as the bells and sounds of alarm are heard approaching again, and bands of citizens, priests and monks, the high clergy, senators and nobles, pass and repass in quick succession, at last followed by Rienzi, which is the signal for the great battle-hymn, "Santo spirito cavaliere," which is to be sung with great fire and energy, accompanied by great and small bells ringing behind the scenes, the clash of swords upon shields, and full power of chorus and orchestra. A dialogue follows between Adriano and Rienzi, and then the various bands disappear singing the ritornelle of the hymn. A great duet ("Lebwohl, Irene") ensues between Adriano and Irene, which in its general outlines reminds one of the duet between Raoul and Valentin in "The Huguenots." At its conclusion, after a prayer by the chorus of women, the battle hymn is heard again in the distance, gradually approaching, and the act closes with a jubilee chorus ("Auf! im Triumpf zum Capitol"), welcoming the return of the conquerors.

The fourth act is short, its principal numbers being the introduction, terzetto and chorus ("Wer war's der euch hierher beschied?"), and the finale, beginning with a somewhat sombre march of the cortege accompanying Rienzi to the church, leading to the details of the conspiracy scene, and closing with the malediction of the monks, "Vae, vae tibi maledicto." The last act opens with an impressive prayer by Rienzi ("Allmacht'ger Vater"), which leads to a tender duet ("Verlaesst die Kirche mich") as Irene enters, closing with a passionate aria by Rienzi ("Ich liebte gluehend"). The duet is then resumed, and leads to a second and intensely passionate duet ("Du hier Irene!") between Adriano and Irene. The finale is brief, but full of energy, and is principally choral. The denouement hurries, and the tragedy is reached amid a tumultuous outburst of voices and instruments. Unlike Wagner's other operas, in "Rienzi" set melody dominates, and the orchestra, as in the Italian school, furnishes the accompaniments. We have the regular overture, aria, duet, trio, and concerted finale; but after "Rienzi" we shall observe a change, at last becoming so radical that the composer himself threw aside his first opera as unworthy of performance.

THE FLYING DUTCHMAN.

"Der Fliegende Hollaender," a romantic opera in three acts, words by the composer, the subject taken from Heinrich Heine's version of the legend, was first produced at Dresden, Jan. 2, 1843, with Mme. Schroeder-Devrient and Herr Wechter in the two principal roles. It was also produced in London in 1870 at Drury Lane as "L'Ollandose dannato," by Signor Arditi, with Mlle. Di Murska, Signors Foli, Perotti, and Rinaldini, and Mr. Santley in the leading parts; in 1876, by Carl Rosa as "The Flying Dutchman," an English version; and again in 1877 as "Il Vascello fantasma." In this country the opera was introduced in its English form by Miss Clara Louise Kellogg.

Wagner conceived the idea of writing "The Flying Dutchman" during the storm which overtook him on his voyage from Riga to Paris. He says in his Autobiography: "'The Flying Dutchman,' whose intimate acquaintance I had made at sea, continually enchained my fancy. I had become acquainted, too, with Heinrich Heine's peculiar treatment of the legend in one portion of his 'Salon.' Especially the treatment of the delivery of this Ahasuerus of the ocean (taken by Heine from a Dutch drama of the same title) gave me everything ready to use the legend as the libretto of an opera. I came to an understanding about it with Heine himself, drew up the scheme, and gave it to M. Leon Pillet [manager of the Grand Opera], with the proposition that he should have a French libretto made from it for me." Subsequently M. Pillet purchased the libretto direct from Wagner, who consented to the transaction, as he saw no opportunity of producing the opera in Paris. It was then set by Dietsch as "Le Vaisseau fantome," and brought out in Paris in 1842. In the mean time, not discouraged by his bad fortune, Wagner set to work, wrote the German verse, and completed the opera in seven weeks for Dresden, where it was finally performed, as already stated. Unlike "Rienzi," it met with failure both in Dresden and Berlin; but its merits were recognized by Spohr, who encouraged him to persevere in the course he had marked out.

The plot of the opera is very simple. A Norwegian vessel, commanded by Daland, compelled by stress of weather, enters a port not far from her destination. At the same time a mysterious vessel, with red sails and black hull, commanded by the wandering Flying Dutchman, who is destined to sail the seas without rest until he finds a maiden who will be faithful until death, puts into the same port. The two captains meet, and Daland invites the stranger to his home. The two at last progress so rapidly in mutual favor that a marriage is agreed upon between the stranger and Senta, Daland's daughter. The latter is a dreamy, imaginative girl, who, though she has an accepted lover, Eric, is so fascinated with the legend of the stranger that she becomes convinced she is destined to save him from perdition. When he arrives with her father she recognizes him at once, and vows eternal constancy to him. In the last act, however, Eric appears and reproaches Senta with her faithlessness. The stranger overhears them, and concludes that as she has been recreant to her former lover, so too she will be untrue to him. He decides to leave her; for if he should remain, her penalty would be eternal death. As his mysterious vessel sails away Senta rushes to a cliff, and crying out that her life will be the price of his release, hurls herself into the sea, vowing to be constant to him even in death. The phantom vessel sinks, the sea grows calm, and in the distance the two figures are seen rising in the sunlight never to be parted.

The overture characterizes the persons and situations of the drama, and introduces the motives which Wagner ever after used so freely,--among them the curse resting upon the Dutchman, the restless motion of the sea, the message of the Angel of Mercy personified in Senta, the personification of the Dutchman, and the song of Daland's crew. The first act opens with an introduction representing a storm, and a characteristic sailors' chorus, followed by an exquisite love-song for tenor ("Mit Gewitter und Sturm"), and a grand scena of the Dutchman ("Die Frist ist um"), which lead up to a melodious duet between the Dutchman and Daland. The act closes with the sailors' chorus as the two vessels sail away.

After a brief instrumental prelude, the second act opens in Daland's home, where the melancholy Senta sits surrounded by her companions, who are spinning. To the whirring accompaniment of the violins they sing a very realistic spinning song ("Summ' und brumm du gutes Maedchen"), interrupted at intervals by the laughter of the girls as they rally Senta upon her melancholy looks. Senta replies with a weird and exquisitely melodious ballad ("Johohae! traefft ihr das Schiff im Meere an"), in which she tells the story of the Flying Dutchman, and anticipates her own destiny. The song is full of intense feelings and is characterized by a motive which frequently recurs in the opera, and is the key to the whole work. A duet follows between Eric and Senta, the melodious character of which shows that Wagner was not yet entirely freed from Italian influences. A short duet ensues between Senta and her father, and then the Dutchman appears. As they stand and gaze at each other for a long time, the orchestra meanwhile supplying the supposed emotions of each, we have a clew to the method Wagner was afterwards to employ so successfully. A duet between Senta and the Dutchman ("Wie aus der Ferne") and a terzetto with Daland close the act.

The third act opens with another sailors' chorus ("Steuermann, lass' die Wacht"), and a brisk dialogue between them and the women who are bringing them provisions. The latter also hail the crew of the Dutchman's vessel, but get no reply until the wind suddenly rises, when they man the vessel and sing the refrain with which the Dutchman is continually identified. A double chorus of the two crews follows. Senta then appears accompanied by Eric, who seeks to restrain her from following the stranger in a very dramatic duet ("Was muss ich hoeren?"). The finale is made up of sailors' and female choruses, and a trio between Senta, Daland, and the Dutchman, which are woven together with consummate skill, and make a very effective termination to the weird story. There are no points in common between "The Flying Dutchman" and "Rienzi," except that in the former Wagner had not yet clearly freed himself from conventional melody. It is interesting as marking his first step towards the music of the future in his use of motives, his wonderful treatment of the orchestra in enforcing the expression of the text, and his combination of the voices and instrumentation in what he so aptly calls "The Music-Drama."

TANNHAEUSER

"Tannhaeuser und der Singerkrieg auf Wartburg" ("Tannhaeuser and the singers' contest at the Wartburg"), a romantic opera in three acts, words by the composer, was first produced at the Royal Opera, Dresden, Oct. 20, 1845, with Mme. Schroeder-Devrient and Herr Niemann as Elizabeth and Tannhaeuser. Its first performance in Paris was on March 13, 1861; but it was a failure after three representations, and was made the butt of Parisian ridicule, even Berlioz joining in the tirade. In England it was brought out in Italian at Covent Garden, May 6, 1876, though its overture was played by the London Philharmonic orchestra in 1855, Wagner himself leading.

In the spring of 1842 Wagner returned from Paris to Germany, and on his way to Dresden visited the castle of Wartburg, in the Thuringian Valley, where he first conceived the idea of writing "Tannhaeuser." The plot was taken from an old German tradition, which centres about the castle where the landgraves of the thirteenth century instituted peaceful contests between the Minnesingers and knightly poets. Near this castle towers the Venusberg, a dreary elevation, which, according to popular tradition, was inhabited by Holda, the goddess of Spring. Proscribed by Christianity, she took refuge in its caverns, where she was afterwards confounded with the Grecian Venus. Her court was filled with nymphs and sirens, who enticed those whose impure desires led them to its vicinity, and lured them into the caverns, from which they were supposed never to return. The first act opens in this court, and reveals Tannhaeuser, the knight and minstrel, under the sway of Venus. In spite of her fascinations he succeeds in tearing himself away, and we next find him at the castle of Wartburg, the home of Hermann the Landgrave, whose daughter Elizabeth is in love with him. At the minstrel contest he enters into the lists with the other Minnesingers, and, impelled by a reckless audacity and the subtle influence of Venus, sings of the attractions of sensual pleasures. Walter, of the Vogelweide, replies with a song to virtue. Tannhaeuser breaks out in renewed sensual strains, and a quarrel ensues. The knights rush upon him with their swords, but Elizabeth interposes and saves his life. He expresses his penitence, makes a pilgrimage to Rome and confesses to the Pope, who replies that, having tasted the pleasures of hell, he is forever damned, and, raising his crosier, adds: "Even as this wood cannot blossom again, so there is no pardon for thee." Elizabeth prays for him in her solitude, but her prayers apparently are of no avail. At last he returns dejected and hopeless, and in his wanderings meets Wolfram, another minstrel, also in love with Elizabeth, to whom he tells the sad story of his pilgrimage. He determines to return to the Venusberg. He hears the voices of the sirens luring him back. Wolfram seeks to detain him, but is powerless until he mentions the name of Elizabeth, when the sirens vanish and their spells lose their attraction. A funeral procession approaches in the distance, and on the bier is the form of the saintly Elizabeth. He sinks down upon the coffin and dies. As his spirit passes away his pilgrim's staff miraculously bursts out into leaf and blossom, showing that his sins have been forgiven.

The overture to the opera is well known by its frequent performances as a concert number. It begins with the pilgrim's song, which, as it dies away, is succeeded by the seductive spells of the Venusberg and the voices of the sirens calling to Tannhaeuser. As the whirring sounds grow fainter and fainter, the pilgrim's song is again heard gradually approaching, and at last closing the overture in a joyous burst of harmony. The first act opens with the scene in the Venusberg, accompanied by the Bacchanale music, which was written in Paris by Wagner after the opera was finished and had been performed. It is now known as "the Parisian Bacchanale." It is followed by a voluptuous scene between Tannhaeuser and Venus, a long dialogue, during which the hero, seizing his harp, trolls out a song ("Doch sterblich, ach!"), the theme of which has already been given out by the overture, expressing his weariness of her companionship. The second scene transports us to a valley, above which towers the castle of Wartburg. A young shepherd, perched upon a rock, sings a pastoral invocation to Holda ("Frau Holda kam aus dem Berg hervor"), the strains of his pipe (an oboe obligato) weaving about the stately chorus of the elder pilgrims ("Zu dir wall' ich, mein Herr und Gott") as they come along the mountain paths from the castle. The scene, which is one of great beauty, closes with the lament of Tannhaeuser ("Ach! schwer drueckt mich der Suenden Last"), intermingled with the receding song of the pilgrims, the ringing of church-bells in the distance, and the merry notes of hunters' horns as the Landgrave and his followers approach. The meeting with Tannhaeuser leads to an expressive septet, in which Wolfram has a very impressive solo ("Als du in kuehnem Sange").

The second act opens in the singers' hall of the Wartburg. Elizabeth, entering joyfully, greets it in a recitation ("Froh gruess ich dich, geliebter Raum"), if we may so term it, which is characterized by a joyous but dignified dramatic appeal, recalling the scenes of her youth. The interview between Tannhaeuser and Elizabeth, which follows, gives rise to a long dialogue, closing with a union of the two voices in the charming duet, "Gepriesen sei die Macht." Then follows the grand march and chorus, "Freudig begruessen wir die edle Halle," announcing the beginning of the song contest. The stirring rhythm and bold, broad outlines of this march are so well known that it is needless to dwell upon it. The scene of the contest is declamatory throughout, and full of animation and spirit; its most salient points being the hymn of Wolfram ("O Himmel lasst dich jetzt erflehen") in honor of ideal love, and Elizabeth's appeal to the knights to spare Tannhaeuser ("Zurueck von ihm"), which leads up to a spirited septet and choral ensemble closing the act.

In the third act we are once more in the valley of the Wartburg. After a plaintive song by Wolfram ("Wohl wusst ich hier sie im Gebet zu finden"), the chorus of the returning pilgrims is heard in the distance, working up to a magnificent crescendo as they approach and cross the stage. Elizabeth, who has been earnestly watching them to find if Tannhaeuser be of their number, disappointed, sinks upon her knees and sings the touching prayer, "Allmaecht'ge Jungfrau, hoer mein Flehen." As she leaves the scene, Wolfram takes his harp and sings the enchanting fantasy to the evening star, "O, du mein holder Abendstern,"--a love-song to the saintly Elizabeth. Tannhaeuser makes his appearance. A long declamatory dialogue ensues between himself and Wolfram, in which he recites the story of his pilgrimage. The scene is one of extraordinary power, and calls for the highest vocal and dramatic qualities in order to make it effective. From this point on, the tragedy hastens. There is the struggle once more with the sirens, and amid Wolfram's touching appeals and Tannhaeuser's exclamations is heard the enticement of the Venus music. But at the name "Elizabeth" it dies away. The mists grow denser as the magic crew disappears, and through them is seen a light upon the Wartburg. The tolling of bells and the songs of mourners are heard as the cortege approaches. As Tannhaeuser dies, the pilgrims' chorus again rises in ecstasy, closing with a mighty shout of "Hallelujah!" and the curtain falls.

LOHENGRIN.

"Lohengrin," a romantic opera in three acts, words by the composer, was first produced at Weimar, Aug. 28, 1850, the anniversary of Goethe's birthday, under the direction of Franz Liszt, and with the following cast of the leading parts:--

LOHENGRIN Herr BECK.
TELRAMUND Herr MILDE.
KING Herr HOFER.
ELSA Frau AGATHE.
ORTRUD Frauelein FASTLINGER.

"Lohengrin" was begun in Paris, and finished in Switzerland during the period in which Wagner was director of the musical society as well as of the orchestra at the city theatre of Zurich, whither he had fled to escape the penalties for taking part in the political agitations and subsequent insurrection of 1849. Though it manifests a still further advancement in the development of his system, it was far from being composed according to the abstract rules he had laid down. He says explicitly on this point, in his "Music of the Future:" "The first three of these poems--'The Flying Dutchman,' 'Tannhaeuser,' and 'Lohengrin'--were written by me, their music composed, and all (with the exception of 'Lohengrin') performed upon the stage, before the composition of my theoretical writings."

The story of Lohengrin, the son of Parsifal, upon which Wagner has based his drama, is taken from many sources, the old Celtic legend of King Arthur, his knights, and the Holy Grail being mixed with the distinctively German legend of a knight who arrives in his boat drawn by a swan. The version used by Wagner is supposed to be told by Wolfram von Eschenbach, the Minnesinger, at one of the Wartburg contests, and is in substance as follows: Henry I., King of Germany, known as "the Fowler," arrives at Antwerp for the purpose of raising a force to help him expel the Hungarians, who are threatening his dominions. He finds Brabant in a condition of anarchy. Gottfried, the young son of the late Duke, has mysteriously disappeared, and Telramund, the husband of Ortrud, daughter of the Prince of Friesland, claims the dukedom. The claimant openly charges Elsa, sister of Gottfried, with having murdered him to obtain the sovereignty, and she is summoned before the King to submit her cause to the ordeal of battle between Telramund and any knight whom she may name. She describes a champion whom she has seen in a vision, and conjures him to appear in her behalf. After a triple summons by the heralds, he is seen approaching on the Scheldt, in a boat drawn by a swan. Before the combat Lohengrin betroths himself to Elsa, naming only the condition that she shall never question him as to his name or race. She assents, and the combat results in Telramund's defeat and public disgrace.

In the second act occur the bridal ceremonies, prior to which, moved by Ortrud's entreaties, Elsa promises to obtain a reprieve for Telramund from the sentence which has been pronounced against him. At the same time Ortrud takes advantage of her success to instil doubts into Elsa's mind as to her future happiness and the faithfulness of Lohengrin.

In the next scene, as the bridal cortege is about to enter the minster, Ortrud claims the right of precedence by virtue of her rank, and Telramund publicly accuses Lohengrin of sorcery. The faith of Elsa, however, is not shaken. The two conspirators are ordered to stand aside, the train enters the church, and Elsa and Lohengrin are united.

The third act opens in the bridal chamber. The seeds of curiosity and distrust which Ortrud has sown in Elsa's mind have ripened, and in spite of her conviction that it will end her happiness, she questions Lohengrin with increasing vehemence, at last openly demanding to know his secret. At this juncture Telramund breaks into the apartment with four followers, intending to take the life of Lohengrin. A single blow of the knight's sword stretches him lifeless. He then places Elsa in the charge of her ladies and orders them to take her to the presence of the King, whither he also repairs. Compelled by his wife's unfortunate rashness, he discloses himself as the son of Parsifal, Knight of the Holy Grail, and announces that he must now return to its guardianship. His swan once more appears, and as he steps into the boat he bids Elsa an eternal farewell. Before he sails away, however, Ortrud declares to the wondering crowd that the swan is Elsa's brother, who has been bewitched by herself into this form, and would have been released but for Elsa's curiosity. Lohengrin at once disenchants the swan, and Gottfried appears and rushes into his sister's arms. A white dove flies through the air and takes the place of the swan, and Lohengrin sails away as Elsa dies in the embrace of her newly found brother.

The Vorspiel, or prelude, to the opera takes for its subject the descent of the Holy Grail, the mysterious symbol of the Christian faith, and the Grail motive is the key to the whole work. The delicious harmonies which accompany its descent increase in warmth and power until the sacred mystery is revealed to human eyes, and then die away to a pianissimo, and gradually disappear as the angels bearing the holy vessel return to their celestial abode. The curtain rises upon a meadow on the banks of the Scheldt, showing King Henry surrounded by his vassals and retainers. After their choral declaration of allegiance, Telramund, in a long declamatory scena of great power ("Zum Sterben kam der Herzog von Brabant"), tells the story of the troubles in Brabant, and impeaches Elsa. At the King's command, Elsa appears, and in a melodious utterance of extreme simplicity and sweetness, which is called the dream motive ("Einsam in trueben Tagen"), relates the vision of the knight who is to come to her assistance. The summons of the heralds preludes the climax of the act. Amid natural outcries of popular wonderment Lohengrin appears, and, as he leaves his boat, bids farewell to his swan in a strain of delicate beauty ("Nun sei gedankt, mein lieber Schwan"). The preparations for the combat are made, but before it begins, the motive of warning is sounded by Lohengrin ("Nie sollst du mich befragen"). The finale of the act takes the form of a powerful ensemble, composed of sextet and chorus, and beginning with the prayer of the King, "Mein Herr und Gott, nun ruf ich Dich."