No better introduction to a discussion of _The King’s Henchman_ could
be found than another quotation from Mr. Gilman, written in the
“Tribune” on the occasion of the opera’s première at the Metropolitan:
“Thus we came to the end of the best American opera we have
ever heard, and so easily the best of the ten produced by Mr.
Gatti-Casazza at the Metropolitan that there is none other in the
running. Mr. Taylor has woven a deft and often lovely sounding
score about a superb poetic text—a text pithy and glamorous
and full of character; rich in humor and dramatic force, rich
in imagery that is often startling in its beauty and its swift
felicity. And this text is apt for voices or for viols. It clamors
for vocal utterance and for enforcement by the instruments of the
mirroring orchestra.
“Mr. Taylor’s score is in the worthiest sense theatrically
planned and developed. It is obvious that he wrote with his eye
on the stage, with his intelligence responsive to its tyrannous
requirements. Furthermore, he has given musical voice to English
words which, sung from the stage, are not only heard, but are
expressive, and fitting, and often beautiful. The music, as music,
“sounds”; it fills the ear, is richly textured, mellifluous, has
grace and movement and flexibility. It is the writing of an expert
craftsman, an artist of sensibility and warm responsiveness.”
For her libretto, Miss Millay went to the England of the ninth
century for her setting, and, in authentic Anglo-Saxon verbiage
tells us the story of Eadgar, King of England, a widower who wishes
a second wife. Like King Mark in _Tristan_, he dispatches a trusted
retainer, Aethelwold, to bring to him Aelfrida, daughter of the Thane
of Devon, of whose beauty he has heard. Like Tristan and like John
Alden, Aethelwold falls in love with the lady himself, and tragedy is
inevitable.
It has often been remarked that the weaker the libretto, the better
the opera. If any proof were needed to challenge so obvious a
fallacy, _The King’s Henchman_ provides it, for here is a poetic
drama which of itself stands in perfect security. In the “Tribune”
Elinor Wylie wrote, after reading the poem:
“If this is not lyric dialogue of the true poetic water, why then
has it such a magic in it that it has turned me into a fool and my
taste into untruth.”
The story is grippingly told, the tragedy of it appalling, and the
characters are limned with an insight that makes them real people,
actuated by motives beyond their control.
Because of his wisdom in choosing his librettist, Taylor commenced
his work with a drama that cried out for musical setting, for a tonal
accompaniment to its atmosphere, and to the thoughts and actions of
its people; and if in the making of it he has fallen under the spell
of Wagner’s musical delineation of the kindred love-drama _Tristan_,
or of Debussy, whose love scene in _Pelleas_ is akin to the forest
scene in _The King’s Henchman_, who can blame him, for who could have
avoided it? Taylor himself has said:
“Its form has undoubtedly been influenced by the methods of past
masters ...; as to that, I can only hope that its spiritual
grandfather may turn out to be Wagner rather than Puccini.”
The score of _The King’s Henchman_ makes frequent use of the
_leit-motif_, to represent both actual characters, and abstract
conceptions. The short prelude opens with the King (Eadgar) motive:
[Music]
This is frequently found, later in the action, in a broader, more
lyric form:
[Music]
After a brief development, the curtain rises and reveals the hall
of King Eadgar’s castle with the King and his nobles seated at the
table, while Maccus, the harper, sings of deeds of valor. Then
follows a choral response, with the words:
“Be the day far off, O harper
When thy harp is unstrung!
And thy hand still,
And thy song sung.”
The Aelfrida motive is first introduced while she is being discussed
as the King’s prospective bride:
[Music]
When Aethelwold is mentioned as the one to get her, we hear his
sturdy motive:
[Music]
which is continued and developed while the knights dwell on his
fitness for the task, for was it not true that
“He shunneth a fair maid
As she were a foul marten
And should a wench but breathe upon him in the dark,
He would bury himself till the smell of her were off him!”
While they are talking about Aethelwold he enters, and the expedition
is planned, the henchman receives his final instructions, the
Archbishop gives his reluctant blessing, and, as the pledge is sealed
we first hear the pledge motive:
[Music]
which is quoted frequently throughout the opera. As the knights drink
Aethelwold’s health and bid him godspeed, there comes a rousing
choral arrangement of the only folk-song used in the entire work:
[Music:
Oh. Caesar great wert thou!
And Julius was thy name!
That furrowed thy way through a fallow spray,
And to stormy Britain came!
But I would not stand in thy stead,
For I’d liefer be quick than dead!]
and so on, through others of the Caesars involved in the Roman
invasion of England: Claudius and Hadrian. The handling of voices and
orchestra in this chorus is the most stunning choral writing Taylor
has ever achieved. After this song, Aethelwold’s horse is brought in
and he takes his departure as the curtain falls, and the orchestra
sounds the Aethelwold motive as a salvo.
X
The second act is chiefly an extended love scene, and the impassioned
prelude, commencing with the Aethelwold motive, establishes the
mood and atmosphere. As the curtain rises, a forest in Devon is
discovered, on the Eve of All Hallow Mass. A thick fog causes
Aethelwold and Maccus, who accompanies him, to lose their way and
become separated. The orchestra, with muted strings, weaves a
background of forest murmurings as Aethelwold stretches himself
beneath an oak. As he falls asleep a light appears, and we hear a
theme which is later associated with the love scene:
[Music]
As Aelfrida enters with a lantern we again hear her motive. She had
come to practice a magic spell, hoping that her incantation would
bring her a lover. As she hums the tune, “white-thorn, black-thorn,
holy-bough, speed-well,” a ghostly chorus behind the scenes answers
her. As the mist clears, the moonlight falls upon Aethelwold, and she
kisses him. As he arises they fall in each other’s arms; and then
begins one of the most beautiful love duets in the literature of
music. It is based on the principal love-theme of the opera:
[Music:
Ah, could we hide us here in a cleft of the night,
And never be found!
Ah, could we hide us in the night,
And never be found!]
They tell each other their names, and Aethelwold horror-stricken
learns who she is. As Aelfrida leaves him, to return in a moment, the
henchman is left alone to make his decision. The orchestra tells us
of his inner strife, we hear reminders of the King’s motive, and the
pledge; he tries to flee, but her voice detains him, and as Maccus
appears seeking him, he gives way to his temptation and dispatches
his harper to the King, with this message:
“Maccus, go back unto the King,
And say to him:
That I have seen the maiden,
And found her nothing fair.
A comely maid enough, and friendly spoken,
But nothing for the King.
Further say:
That whereas the Thane of Devon, the lady’s father,
Is rich in lands and kine;
And whereas the Lord Aethelwold
Spare the King’s love, hath little else beside,—
The blessing of King Eadgar is besought
Upon the wedding of Lord Aethelwold
Unto the maid Aelfrida.”
As Maccus departs, Aethelwold turns to Aelfrida, saying:
“Now shall I look no more beyond thine eyes.”
Both words and music, throughout the act, portray Aethelwold’s
intense desire to be loyal to his King, but show the complete
inability of almost any man to resist the spell woven by the forest.
The music achieves a compelling mood of rapturous lyricism, and its
broadly drawn phrases of sensuous melody build up magnificently to
the climax of the act.