TOSCA

Opera in three acts by Puccini; words by L. Illica and G.

Giacosa after the drama, "La Tosca," by Sardou. Produced,

Constanzi Theatre, Rome, January 14, 1900; London, Covent

Garden, July 12, 1900. Buenos Aires, June 16, 1900.

Metropolitan Opera House, New York, February 4, 1901, with

Ternina, Cremonini, Scotti, Gilibert (_Sacristan_), and

Dufriche (_Angelotti_).

CHARACTERS

FLORIA TOSCA, a celebrated singer _Soprano_

MARIO CAVARADOSSI, a painter _Tenor_

BARON SCARPIA, Chief of Police _Baritone_

CESARE ANGELOTTI _Bass_

A SACRISTAN _Baritone_

SPOLETTA, police agent _Tenor_

SCIARRONE, a gendarme _Bass_

A GAOLER _Bass_

A SHEPHERD BOY _Contralto_

Roberti, executioner; a cardinal, judge, scribe, officer,

and sergeant, soldiers, police agents, ladies, nobles,

citizens, artisans, etc.

_Time_--June, 1800.

_Place_--Rome.

Three sharp, vigorous chords, denoting the imperious yet sinister and

vindictive character of _Scarpia_--such is the introduction to

"Tosca."

* * * * *

Act I. The church of Sant'Andrea della Valle. To the right the

Attavanti chapel; left a scaffolding, dais, and easel. On the easel a

large picture covered by a cloth. Painting accessories. A basket.

Enter _Angelotti_. He has escaped from prison and is seeking a hiding

place. Looking about, he recognizes a pillar shrine containing an

image of the Virgin, and surmounting a receptacle for holy water.

Beneath the feet of the image he searches for and discovers a key,

unlocks the Attavanti chapel and disappears within it. The _Sacristan_

comes in. He has a bunch of brushes that he has been cleaning, and

evidently is surprised not to find _Cavaradossi_ at his easel. He

looks into the basket, finds the luncheon in it untouched, and now is

sure he was mistaken in thinking he had seen the painter enter.

The Angelus is rung. The _Sacristan_ kneels. _Cavaradossi_ enters. He

uncovers the painting--a Mary Magdalen with large blue eyes and masses

of golden hair. The _Sacristan_ recognizes in it the portrait of a

lady who lately has come frequently to the church to worship. The good

man is scandalized at what he considers a sacrilege. _Cavaradossi_,

however, has other things to think of. He compares the face in the

portrait with the features of the woman he loves, the dark-eyed

_Floria Tosca_, famous as a singer. "Recondita armonia di bellezze

diverse" (Strange harmony of contrasts deliciously blending), he

sings.

Meanwhile the _Sacristan_, engaged in cleaning the brushes in a jug of

water, continues to growl over the sacrilege of putting frivolous

women into religious paintings. Finally, his task with the brushes

over, he points to the basket and asks, "Are you fasting?" "Nothing

for me," says the painter. The _Sacristan_ casts a greedy look at the

basket, as he thinks of the benefit he will derive from the artist's

abstemiousness. The painter goes on with his work. The _Sacristan_

leaves.

_Angelotti_, believing no one to be in the church, comes out of his

hiding place. He and _Cavaradossi_ recognize each other. _Angelotti_

has just escaped from the prison in the castle of Sant'Angelo. The

painter at once offers to help him. Just then, however, _Tosca's_

voice is heard outside. The painter presses the basket with wine and

viands upon the exhausted fugitive, and urges him back into the

chapel, while from without _Tosca_ calls more insistently, "Mario!"

Feigning calm, for the meeting with _Angelotti_, who had been

concerned in the abortive uprising to make Rome a republic, has

excited him, _Cavaradossi_ admits _Tosca_. Jealously she insists that

he was whispering with someone, and that she heard footsteps and the

swish of skirts. Her lover reassures her, tries to embrace her. Gently

she reproves him. She cannot let him kiss her before the Madonna until

she has prayed to her image and made an offering. She adorns the

Virgin's figure with flowers she has brought with her, kneels in

prayer, crosses herself and rises. She tells _Cavaradossi_ to await

her at the stage door that night, and they will steal away together to

his villa. He is still distrait. When he replies, absent-mindedly, he

surely will be there, her comment is, "Thou say'st it badly." Then,

beginning the love duet, "Non la sospiri la nostra casetta" (Dost

thou not long for our dovecote secluded), she conjures up for him a

vision of that "sweet, sweet nest in which we love-birds hide."

For the moment _Cavaradossi_ forgets _Angelotti_; then, however, urges

_Tosca_ to leave him, so that he may continue with his work. She is

vexed and, when she recognizes in the picture of Mary Magdalen the

fair features of the Marchioness Attavanti, she becomes jealous to the

point of rage. But her lover soon soothes her. The episode is

charming. In fact the libretto, following the Sardou play, unfolds,

scene by scene, an always effective drama.

_Tosca_ having departed, _Cavaradossi_ lets _Angelotti_ out of the

chapel. He is a brother of the Attavanti, of whom _Tosca_ is so

needlessly jealous, and who has concealed a suit of woman's clothing

for him under the altar. They mention _Scarpia_--"A bigoted satyr and

hypocrite, secretly steeped in vice, yet most demonstratively

pious"--the first hint we have in the opera of the relentless

character, whose desire to possess _Tosca_ is the mainspring of the

drama.

A cannon shot startles them. It is from the direction of the castle

and announces the escape of a prisoner--_Angelotti_. _Cavaradossi_

suggests the grounds of his villa as a place of concealment from

_Scarpia_ and his police agents, especially the old dried-up well,

from which a secret passage leads to a dark vault. It can be reached

by a rough path just outside the Attavanti chapel. The painter even

offers to guide the fugitive. They leave hastily.

The _Sacristan_ enters excitedly. He has great news. Word has been

received that Bonaparte has been defeated. The old man now notices,

however, greatly to his surprise, that the painter has gone. Acolytes,

penitents, choristers, and pupils of the chapel crowd in from all

directions. There is to be a "Te Deum" in honour of the victory, and

at evening, in the Farnese palace, a cantata with _Floria Tosca_ as

soloist. It means extra pay for the choristers. They are jubilant.

_Scarpia_ enters unexpectedly. He stands in a doorway. A sudden hush

falls upon all. For a while they are motionless, as if spellbound.

While preparations are making for the "Te Deum," _Scarpia_ orders

search made in the Attavanti chapel. He finds a fan which, from the

coat-of-arms on it, he recognizes as having been left there by

_Angelotti's_ sister. A police agent also finds a basket. As he comes

out with it, the _Sacristan_ unwittingly exclaims that it is

_Cavaradossi's_, and empty, although the painter had said that he

would eat nothing. It is plain to _Scarpia_, who has also discovered

in the Mary Magdalen of the picture the likeness to the Marchioness

Attavanti, that _Cavaradossi_ had given the basket of provisions to

_Angelotti_, and has been an accomplice in his escape.

_Tosca_ comes in and quickly approaches the dais. She is greatly

surprised not to find _Cavaradossi_ at work on the picture. _Scarpia_

dips his fingers in holy water and deferentially extends them to

_Tosca_. Reluctantly she touches them, then crosses herself. _Scarpia_

insinuatingly compliments her on her religious zeal. She comes to

church to pray, not, like certain frivolous wantons--he points to the

picture--to meet their lovers. He now produces the fan. "Is this a

painter's brush or a mahlstick?" he asks, and adds that he found it on

the easel. Quickly, jealously, _Tosca_ examines it, sees the arms of

the Attavanti. She had come to tell her lover that, because she is

obliged to sing in the cantata she will be unable to meet him that

night. Her reward is this evidence, offered by _Scarpia_, that he has

been carrying on a love affair with another woman, with whom he

probably has gone to the villa. She gives way to an outburst of

jealous rage; then, weeping, leaves the chapel, to the gates of which

_Scarpia_ gallantly escorts her. He beckons to his agent _Spoletta_,

and orders him to trail her and report to him at evening at the

Farnese palace.

[Illustration: Copyright photo by Dupont

Cavalieri as Tosca]

[Illustration: Photo by Mishkin

Scotti as Scarpia]

Church bells are tolling. Intermittently from the castle of

Sant'Angelo comes the boom of the cannon. A Cardinal has entered and

is advancing to the high altar. The "Te Deum" has begun. _Scarpia_

soliloquizes vindictively: "Va, Tosca! Nel tuo cuor s'annida Scarpia"

(Go, Tosca! There is room in your heart for Scarpia).

He pauses to bow reverently as the Cardinal passes by. Still

soliloquizing, he exults in his power to send _Cavaradossi_ to

execution, while _Tosca_ he will bring to his own arms. For her, he

exclaims, he would renounce his hopes of heaven; then kneels and

fervently joins in the "Te Deum."

This finale, with its elaborate apparatus, its complex emotions and

the sinister and dominating figure of _Scarpia_ set against a

brilliant and constantly shifting background, is a stirring and

effective climax to the act.

Act II. The Farnese Palace. _Scarpia's_ apartments on an upper floor.

A large window overlooks the palace courtyard. _Scarpia_ is seated at

table supping. At intervals he breaks off to reflect. His manner is

anxious. An orchestra is heard from a lower story of the palace, where

Queen Caroline is giving an entertainment in honour of the reported

victory over Bonaparte. They are dancing, while waiting for _Tosca_,

who is to sing in the cantata. _Scarpia_ summons _Sciarrone_ and gives

him a letter, which is to be handed to the singer upon her arrival.

_Spoletta_ returns from his mission. _Tosca_ was followed to a villa

almost hidden by foliage. She remained but a short time. When she left

it, _Spoletta_ and his men searched the house, but could not find

_Angelotti_. _Scarpia_ is furious, but is appeased when _Spoletta_

tells him that they discovered _Cavaradossi_, put him in irons, and

have brought him with them.

Through the open window there is now heard the beginning of the

cantata, showing that _Tosca_ has arrived and is on the floor below,

where are the Queen's reception rooms. Upon _Scarpia's_ order there

are brought in _Cavaradossi_, _Roberti_, the executioner, and a judge

with his clerk. _Cavaradossi's_ manner is indignant, defiant,

_Scarpia's_ at first suave. Now and then _Tosca's_ voice is heard

singing below. Finally _Scarpia_ closes the window, thus shutting out

the music. His questions addressed to _Cavaradossi_ are now put in a

voice more severe. He has just asked, "Once more and for the last

time," where is _Angelotti_, when _Tosca_, evidently alarmed by the

contents of the note received from _Scarpia_, hurries in and, seeing

_Cavaradossi_, fervently embraces him. Under his breath he manages to

warn her against disclosing anything she saw at the villa.

_Scarpia_ orders that _Cavaradossi_ be removed to an adjoining room

and his deposition there taken. _Tosca_ is not aware that it is the

torture chamber the door to which has closed upon her lover. With

_Tosca_ _Scarpia_ begins his interview quietly, deferentially. He has

deduced from _Spoletta's_ report of her having remained but a short

time at the villa that, instead of discovering the Attavanti with her

lover, as she jealously had suspected, she had found him making plans

to conceal _Angelotti_. In this he has just been confirmed by her

frankly affectionate manner toward _Cavaradossi_.

At first she answers _Scarpia's_ questions as to the presence of

someone else at the villa lightly; then, when he becomes more

insistent, her replies show irritation, until, turning on her with

"ferocious sternness," he tells her that his agents are attempting to

wring a confession from _Cavaradossi_ by torture. Even at that moment

a groan is heard. _Tosca_ implores mercy for her lover. Yes, if she

will disclose the hiding place of _Angelotti_. Groan after groan

escapes from the torture chamber. _Tosca_, overcome, bursts into

convulsive sobs and sinks back upon a sofa. _Spoletta_ kneels and

mutters a Latin prayer. _Scarpia_ remains cruelly impassive, silent,

until, seeing his opportunity in _Tosca's_ collapse, he steps to the

door and signals to the executioner, _Roberti_, to apply still greater

torture. The air is rent with a prolonged cry of pain. Unable longer

to bear her lover's anguish and, in spite of warnings to say nothing,

which he has called out to her between his spasms, she says hurriedly

and in a stifled voice to _Scarpia_, "The well ... in the garden."

_Cavaradossi_ is borne in from the torture chamber and deposited on

the sofa. Kneeling beside him _Tosca_ lavishes tears and kisses upon

him. _Sciarrone_, the judge, _Roberti_ and the _Clerk_ go. In

obedience to a sign from _Scarpia_, _Spoletta_ and the agents remain

behind. Still loyal to his friend, _Cavaradossi_, although racked with

pain, asks _Tosca_ if unwittingly in his anguish he has disclosed

aught. She reassures him.

In a loud and commanding voice _Scarpia_ says to _Spoletta_: "In the

well in the garden--Go _Spoletta_!"

From _Scarpia's_ words _Cavaradossi_ knows that _Tosca_ has betrayed

_Angelotti's_ hiding place. He tries to repulse her.

_Sciarrone_ rushes in much perturbed. He brings bad news. The victory

they have been celebrating has turned into defeat. Bonaparte has

triumphed at Marengo. _Cavaradossi_ is roused to enthusiasm by the

tidings. "Tremble, Scarpia, thou butcherly hypocrite," he cries.

It is his death warrant. At _Scarpia's_ command _Sciarrone_ and the

agents seize him and drag him away to be hanged.

Quietly seating himself at table, _Scarpia_ invites _Tosca_ to a

chair. Perhaps they can discover a plan by which _Cavaradossi_ may be

saved. He carefully polishes a wineglass with a napkin, fills it with

wine, and pushes it toward her.

"Your price?" she asks, contemptuously.

Imperturbably he fills his glass. She is the price that must be paid

for _Cavaradossi's_ life. The horror with which she shrinks from the

proposal, her unfeigned detestation of the man putting it forward,

make her seem the more fascinating to him. There is a sound of distant

drums. It is the escort that will conduct _Cavaradossi_ to the

scaffold. _Scarpia_ has almost finished supper. Imperturbably he peels

an apple and cuts it in quarters, occasionally looking up and scanning

his chosen victim's features.

Distracted, not knowing whither or to whom to turn, _Tosca_ now utters

the famous "Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore, non feci mai male ad anima

viva":

(Music and love--these have I lived for,

Nor ever have I harmed a living being....

In this, my hour of grief and bitter tribulation,

O, Heavenly Father, why hast Thou forsaken me),

The "Vissi d'arte" justly is considered the most beautiful air in the

repertoire of modern Italian opera. It is to passages of surpassing

eloquence like this that Puccini owes his fame, and his operas are

indebted for their lasting power of appeal.

Beginning quietly, "Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore,"

[Music]

it works up to the impassioned, heart-rending outburst of grief with

which it comes to an end.

[Music]

[Illustration: Copyright photo by Dupont

Emma Eames as Tosca]

[Illustration: Copyright photo by Dupont

Caruso as Mario in "Tosca"]

A knock at the door. _Spoletta_ comes to announce that _Angelotti_, on

finding himself discovered, swallowed poison. "The other," he adds,

meaning _Cavaradossi_, "awaits your decision." The life of _Tosca's_

lover is in the hands of the man who has told her how she may save

him. Softly _Scarpia_ asks her, "What say you?" She nods consent;

then, weeping for the shame of it, buries her head in the sofa

cushions.

_Scarpia_ says it is necessary for a mock execution to be gone through

with, before _Tosca_ and _Cavaradossi_ can flee Rome. He directs

_Spoletta_ that the execution is to be simulated--"as we did in the

case of Palmieri.--You understand."

"Just like Palmieri," _Spoletta_ repeats with emphasis, and goes.

_Scarpia_ turns to _Tosca_. "I have kept my promise." She, however,

demands safe conduct for _Cavaradossi_ and herself. _Scarpia_ goes to

his desk to write the paper. With trembling hand _Tosca_, standing at

the table, raises to her lips the wineglass filled for her by

_Scarpia_. As she does so she sees the sharp, pointed knife with which

he peeled and quartered the apple. A rapid glance at the desk assures

her that he still is writing. With infinite caution she reaches out,

secures possession of the knife, conceals it on her person. _Scarpia_

has finished writing. He folds up the paper, advances toward _Tosca_

with open arms to embrace her.

"_Tosca_, at last thou art mine!"

With a swift stroke of the knife, she stabs him full in the breast.

"It is thus that _Tosca_ kisses!"

He staggers, falls. Ineffectually he strives to rise; makes a final

effort; falls backward; dies.

Glancing back from time to time at _Scarpia's_ corpse, _Tosca_ goes to

the table, where she dips a napkin in water and washes her fingers.

She arranges her hair before a looking-glass, then looks on the desk

for the safe-conduct. Not finding it there, she searches elsewhere for

it, finally discovers it clutched in _Scarpia's_ dead fingers, lifts

his arm, draws out the paper from between the fingers, and lets the

arm fall back stiff and stark, as she hides the paper in her bosom.

For a brief moment she surveys the body, then extinguishes the lights

on the supper table.

About to leave, she sees one of the candles on the desk still burning.

With a grace of solemnity, she lights with it the other candle, places

one candle to the right, the other to the left of _Scarpia's_ head,

takes down a crucifix from the wall, and, kneeling, places it on the

dead man's breast. There is a roll of distant drums. She rises; steals

out of the room.

In the opera, as in the play, which was one of Sarah Bernhardt's

triumphs, it is a wonderful scene--one of the greatest in all drama.

Anyone who has seen it adequately acted, knows what it has signified

in the success of the opera, even after giving Puccini credit for

"Vissi d'arte" and an expressive accompaniment to all that transpires

on the stage.

Act III. A platform of the Castle Sant'Angelo. Left, a casement with a

table, a bench, and a stool. On the table are a lantern, a huge

register book, and writing materials. Suspended on one of the walls

are a crucifix and a votive lamp. Right, a trap door opening on a

flight of steps that lead to the platform from below. The Vatican and

St. Paul's are seen in the distance. The clear sky is studded with

stars. It is just before dawn. The jangle of sheep bells is heard, at

first distant, then nearer. Without, a shepherd sings his lay. A dim,

grey light heralds the approach of dawn.

The firing party conducting _Cavaradossi_ ascends the steps through

the trap door and is received by a jailer. From a paper handed him by

the sergeant in charge of the picket, the jailer makes entries in the

register, to which the sergeant signs his name, then descends the

steps followed by the picket. A bell strikes. "You have an hour," the

jailer tells _Cavaradossi_. The latter craves the favour of being

permitted to write a letter. It being granted, he begins to write, but

soon loses himself in memories of _Tosca_. "E lucevan le stelle ed

olezzava la terra" (When the stars were brightly shining, and faint

perfumes the air pervaded)--a tenor air of great beauty.

[Music]

He buries his face in his hands. _Spoletta_ and the sergeant conduct

_Tosca_ up the steps to the platform, and point out to her where she

will find _Cavaradossi_. A dim light still envelopes the scene as with

mystery. _Tosca_, seeing her lover, rushes up to him and, unable to

speak for sheer emotion, lifts his hands and shows him--herself and

the safe-conduct.

"At what price?" he asks.

Swiftly she tells him what _Scarpia_ demanded of her, and how, having

consented, she thwarted him by slaying him with her own hand. Lovingly

he takes her hands in his. "O dolci mani mansuete e pure" (Oh! gentle

hands, so pitiful and tender). Her voice mingles with his in love and

gratitude for deliverance.

"Amaro sol per te m'era il morire" (The sting of death, I only felt

for thee, love).

[Music]

She informs him of the necessity of going through a mock execution. He

must fall naturally and lie perfectly still, as if dead, until she

calls to him. They laugh over the ruse. It will be amusing. The firing

party arrives. The sergeant offers to bandage _Cavaradossi's_ eyes.

The latter declines. He stands with his back to the wall. The soldiers

take aim. _Tosca_ stops her ears with her hands so that she may not

hear the explosion. The officer lowers his sword. The soldiers fire.

_Cavaradossi_ falls.

"How well he acts it!" exclaims _Tosca_.

A cloth is thrown over _Cavaradossi_. The firing party marches off.

_Tosca_ cautions her lover not to move yet. The footsteps of the

firing party die away--"Now get up." He does not move. Can he not

hear? She goes nearer to him. "Mario! Up quickly! Away!--Up! up!

Mario!"

She raises the cloth. To the last _Scarpia_ has tricked her. He had

ordered a real, not a mock execution. Her lover lies at her feet--a

corpse.

There are cries from below the platform. _Scarpia's_ murder has been

discovered. His myrmidons are hastening to apprehend her. She springs

upon the parapet and throws herself into space.

[Illustration: Farrar as Tosca]

MADAMA BUTTERFLY

MADAM BUTTERFLY

Opera in two acts, by Giacomo Puccini, words after the story

of John Luther Long and the drama of David Belasco by L.

Illica and G. Giacosa. English version by Mrs. R.H. Elkin.

Produced unsuccessfully, La Scala, Milan, February 17,

1904, with Storchio, Zenatello, and De Luca, conductor

Cleofante Campanini. Slightly revised, but with Act II

divided into two distinct parts, at Brescia, May 28, 1904,

with Krusceniski, Zenatello, and Bellati, when it scored a

success. Covent Garden, London, July 10, 1905, with Destinn,

Caruso, and Scotti, conductor Campanini. Washington, D.C.,

October, 1906, in English, by the Savage Opera Company, and

by the same company, Garden Theatre, New York, November 12,

1906, with Elsa Szamozy, Harriet Behne, Joseph F. Sheehan,

and Winifred Goff; Metropolitan Opera House, New York,

February 11, 1907, with Farrar (_Butterfly_), Homer

(_Suzuki_), Caruso (_Pinkerton_), Scotti (_Sharpless_), and

Reiss (_Goro_).

CHARACTERS

MADAM BUTTERFLY (Cio-Cio-San) _Soprano_

SUZUKI (her servant) _Mezzo-Soprano_

KATE PINKERTON _Mezzo-Soprano_

B.F. PINKERTON, Lieutenant, U.S.N. _Tenor_

SHARPLESS (U.S. Consul at Nagasaki) _Baritone_

GORO (a marriage broker) _Tenor_

PRINCE YAMADORI _Baritone_

THE BONZE (_Cio-Cio-San's uncle_) _Bass_

YAKUSIDE _Baritone_

THE IMPERIAL COMMISSIONER _Bass_

THE OFFICIAL REGISTRAR } _Baritone_

CIO-CIO-SAN'S MOTHER } Members of _Mezzo-Soprano_

THE AUNT } the Chorus _Mezzo-Soprano_

THE COUSIN } _Soprano_

TROUBLE (_Cio-Cio-San's Child_)

_Cio-Cio-San's_ relations and friends. Servants.

_Time_--Present day.

_Place_--Nagasaki.

[Illustration: Photo by Hall

"Madame Butterfly," Act I

(Francis Maclennan, Renée Vivienne, and Thomas Richards)]

Although "Madama Butterfly" is in two acts, the division of the second

act into two parts by the fall of the curtain, there also being an

instrumental introduction to part second, practically gives the opera

three acts.

Act I. There is a prelude, based on a Japanese theme. This theme runs

through the greater part of the act. It is employed as a background

and as a connecting link, with the result that it imparts much exotic

tone colour to the scenes. The prelude passes over into the first act

without a break.

_Lieutenant B.F. Pinkerton_, U.S.N., is on the point of contracting a

"Japanese marriage" with _Cio-Cio-San_, whom her friends call

_Butterfly_. At the rise of the curtain _Pinkerton_ is looking over a

little house on a hill facing the harbour. This house he has leased

and is about to occupy with his Japanese wife. _Goro_, the nakodo or

marriage broker, who has arranged the match, also has found the house

for him and is showing him over it, enjoying the American's surprise

at the clever contrivances found in Japanese house construction. Three

Japanese servants are in the house, one of whom is _Suzuki_,

_Butterfly's_ faithful maid.

_Sharpless_, the American Consul at Nagasaki, arrives. In the chat

which follows between the two men it becomes apparent that _Sharpless_

looks upon the step _Pinkerton_ is about to take with disfavour. He

argues that what may be a mere matter of pastime to the American Naval

lieutenant, may have been taken seriously by the Japanese girl and, if

so, may prove a matter of life or death with her. _Pinkerton_ on the

other hand laughs off his friend's fears and, having poured out drinks

for both, recklessly pledges his real American wife of the future.

Further discussion is interrupted by the arrival of the bride with her

relatives and friends.

After greetings have been exchanged, the Consul on conversing with

_Butterfly_ becomes thoroughly convinced that he was correct in

cautioning _Pinkerton_. For he discovers that she is not contemplating

the usual Japanese marriage of arrangement, but, actually being in

love with _Pinkerton_, is taking it with complete seriousness. She has

even gone to the extent, as she confides to _Pinkerton_, of secretly

renouncing her religious faith, the faith of her forefathers, and

embracing his, before entering on her new life with him. This step,

when discovered by her relatives, means that she has cut herself loose

from all her old associations and belongings, and entrusts herself and

her future entirely to her husband.

Minor officials whose duty it is to see that the marriage contract,

even though it be a "Japanese marriage," is signed with proper

ceremony, arrive. In the midst of drinking and merry-making on the

part of all who have come to the wedding, they are startled by fierce

imprecations from a distance and gradually drawing nearer. A weird

figure, shouting and cursing wildly, appears upon the scene. It is

_Butterfly's_ uncle, the _Bonze_ (Japanese priest). He has discovered

her renunciation of faith, now calls down curses upon her head for it,

and insists that all her relatives, even her immediate family,

renounce her. _Pinkerton_ enraged at the disturbance turns them out of

the house. The air shakes with their imprecations as they depart.

_Butterfly_ is weeping bitterly, but _Pinkerton_ soon is enabled to

comfort her. The act closes with a passionate love scene.

The Japanese theme, which I have spoken of as forming the introduction

to the act, besides, the background to the greater part of it, in fact

up to the scene with the _Bonze_, never becomes monotonous because it

is interrupted by several other musical episodes. Such are the short

theme to which _Pinkerton_ sings "Tutto è pronto" (All is ready), and

the skippy little theme when _Goro_ tells _Pinkerton_ about those who

will be present at the ceremony. When _Pinkerton_ sings, "The whole

world over, on business or pleasure the Yankee travels," a motif based

on the "Star-Spangled Banner," is heard for the first time.

In the duet between _Pinkerton_ and _Sharpless_, which _Pinkerton_

begins with the words, "Amore o grillo" (Love or fancy), _Sharpless's_

serious argument and its suggestion of the possibility of

_Butterfly's_ genuine love for _Pinkerton_ are well brought out in the

music. When _Butterfly_ and her party arrive, her voice soars above

those of the others to the strains of the same theme which occurs as a

climax to the love duet at the end of the act and which, in the course

of the opera, is heard on other occasions so intimately associated

with herself and her emotions that it may be regarded as a motif,

expressing the love she has conceived for _Pinkerton_.

Full of feeling is the music of her confession to _Pinkerton_ that she

has renounced the faith of her forefathers, in order to be a fit wife

for the man she loves:--"Ieri son salita" (Hear what I would tell

you). An episode, brief but of great charm, is the chorus "Kami! O

Kami! Let's drink to the newly married couple." Then comes the

interruption of the cheerful scene by the appearance of the _Bonze_,

which forms a dramatic contrast.

It is customary with Puccini to create "atmosphere" of time and place

through the medium of the early scenes of his operas. It is only

necessary to recall the opening episodes in the first acts of "La

Bohème" and "Tosca." He has done the same thing in "Madam Butterfly,"

by the employment of the Japanese theme already referred to, and by

the crowded episodes attending the arrival of _Butterfly_ and the

performance of the ceremony. These episodes are full of action and

colour, and distinctly Japanese in the impression they make. Moreover,

they afford the only opportunity throughout the entire opera to employ

the chorus upon the open stage. It is heard again in the second act,

but only behind the scenes and humming in order to give the effect of

distance.

[Illustration: Photo by White

Farrar as Cio-Cio-San in "Madama Butterfly"]

The love scene between _Pinkerton_ and _Butterfly_ is extended. From

its beginning, "Viene la sera" (Evening is falling),

[Music]

to the end, its interest never flags. It is full of beautiful melody

charged with sentiment and passion, yet varied with lighter passages,

like _Butterfly's_ "I am like the moon's little goddess"; "I used to

think if anyone should want me"; and the exquisite, "Vogliatemi bene"

(Ah, love me a little). There is a beautiful melody for _Pinkerton_,

"Love, what fear holds you trembling." The climax of the love duet is

reached in two impassioned phrases:--"Dolce notte! Quante stelle"

(Night of rapture, stars unnumbered),

[Music]

and "Oh! Quanti occhi fisi, attenti" (Oh, kindly heavens).

[Music]

Act II. Part I. Three years have elapsed. It is a long time since

_Pinkerton_ has left _Butterfly_ with the promise to return to her

"when the robins nest." When the curtain rises, after an introduction,

in which another Japanese theme is employed, _Suzuki_, although

convinced that _Pinkerton_ has deserted her mistress, is praying for

his return. _Butterfly_ is full of faith and trust. In chiding her

devoted maid for doubting that _Pinkerton_ will return, she draws in

language and song a vivid picture of his home-coming and of their

mutual joy therein:--"Un bel dì vedremo" (Some day he'll come).

[Music]

In point of fact, _Pinkerton_ really is returning to Nagasaki, but

with no idea of resuming relations with his Japanese wife. Indeed,

before leaving America he has written to _Sharpless_ asking him to let

_Butterfly_ know that he is married to an American wife, who will

join him in Nagasaki. _Sharpless_ calls upon _Butterfly_, and attempts

to deliver his message, but is unable to do so because of the emotions

aroused in _Butterfly_ by the very sight of a letter from _Pinkerton_.

It throws her into a transport of joy because, unable immediately to

grasp its contents, she believes that in writing he has remembered

her, and must be returning to her. _Sharpless_ endeavours to make the

true situation clear to her, but is interrupted by a visit from

_Yamadori_, a wealthy Japanese suitor, whom _Goro_ urges _Butterfly_

to marry. For the money left by Pinkerton with his little Japanese

wife has dwindled almost to nothing, and poverty stares her in the

face. But she will not hear of an alliance with _Yamadori_. She

protests that she is already married to _Pinkerton_, and will await

his return.

When _Yamadori_ has gone, _Sharpless_ makes one more effort to open

her eyes to the truth. They have a duet, "Ora a noi" (Now at last), in

which he again produces the letter, and attempts to persuade her that

Pinkerton has been faithless to her and has forgotten her. Her only

reply is to fetch in her baby boy, born since _Pinkerton's_ departure.

Her argument is, that when the boy's father hears what a fine son is

waiting for him in Japan, he will hasten back. She sings to _Trouble_,

as the little boy is called:--"Sai cos'ebbe cuore" (Do you hear, my

sweet one, what that bad man is saying). _Sharpless_ makes a final

effort to disillusion her, but in vain. If _Pinkerton_ does not come

back, there are two things, she says, she can do--return to her old

life and sing for people, or die. She sings a touching little lullaby

to her baby boy, _Suzuki_ twice interrupting her with the pathetically

voiced exclamation, "Poor Madam Butterfly!"

A salute of cannon from the harbour announces the arrival of a

man-of-war. Looking through the telescope, _Butterfly_ and _Suzuki_

discover that it is _Pinkerton's_ ship, the "Abraham Lincoln." Now

_Butterfly_ is convinced that _Sharpless_ is wrong. Her faith is

about to be rewarded. The man she loves is returning to her. The home

must be decorated and made cheerful and attractive to greet him. She

and _Suzuki_ distribute cherry blossoms wherever their effect will be

most charming. The music accompanying this is the enchanting duet of

the flowers, "Scuoti quella fronda di ciliegio" (Shake that cherry

tree till every flower). Most effective is the phrase, "Gettiamo a

mani piene mammole e tuberose" (In handfuls let us scatter violets and

white roses.)

[Music]

_Butterfly_ adorns herself and the baby boy. Then with her fingers she

pierces three holes in the paper wall of the dwelling. She, _Suzuki_,

and the baby peer through these, watching for _Pinkerton's_ arrival.

Night falls. _Suzuki_ and the boy drop off to sleep. _Butterfly_

rigid, motionless, waits and watches, her faith still unshaken, for

the return of the man who has forsaken her. The pathos of the scene is

profound; the music, with the hum of voices, borne upon the night from

the distant harbour, exquisite.

Act II. Part II. When the curtain rises, night has passed, dawn is

breaking. _Suzuki_ and the baby are fast asleep, but _Butterfly_ still

is watching. Again Puccini employs a Japanese melody (the "vigil"

theme).

[Music]

When _Suzuki_ awakes, she persuades the poor little "wife" to go

upstairs to rest, which _Butterfly_ does only upon _Suzuki's_ promise

to awaken her as soon as _Pinkerton_ arrives. _Pinkerton_ and

_Sharpless_ appear. _Suzuki_ at first is full of joyful surprise,

which, however, soon gives way to consternation, when she learns the

truth. _Pinkerton_ himself, seeing about him the proofs of

_Butterfly's_ complete loyalty to him, realizes the heartlessness of

his own conduct. There is a dramatic trio for _Pinkerton_,

_Sharpless_, and _Suzuki_. _Pinkerton_, who cannot bear to face the

situation, rushes away, leaving it to _Sharpless_ to settle matters as

best he can.

_Butterfly_ has become aware that people are below. _Suzuki_ tries to

prevent her coming down, but she appears radiantly happy, for she

expects to find her husband. The pathos of the scene in which she

learns the truth is difficult to describe. But she does not burst into

lamentations. With a gentleness which has been characteristic of her

throughout, she bears the blow. She even expresses the wish to _Kate_,

_Pinkerton's_ real wife, that she may experience all happiness, and

sends word to _Pinkerton_ that, if he will come for his son in half an

hour, he can have him.

_Sharpless_ and _Mrs. Pinkerton_ withdraw. In a scene of tragic power,

_Butterfly_ mortally wounds herself with her father's sword, the blade

of which bears the inscription, "To die with honour when one can no

longer live with honour," drags herself across the floor to where the

boy is playing with his toys and waving a little American flag, and

expires just as _Pinkerton_ enters to take away the son whom thus she

gives up to him.

From examples that already have been given of modern Italian opera, it

is clear that "atmosphere," local colour, and character delineation

are typical features of the art of Italy's lyric stage as it

flourishes today. In "Madama Butterfly" we have exotic tone colour to

a degree that has been approached but not equalled by Verdi in "Aïda."

Certain brief scenes in Verdi's opera are Egyptian in tone colour. In

"Madama Butterfly" Japanese themes are used _in extenso_, and although

the thrilling climaxes in the work are distinctively Italian, the

Japanese under-current, dramatic and musical, always is felt. In that

respect compare "Madama Butterfly" with a typical old Italian opera

like "Lucia di Lammermoor" the scene of which is laid in Scotland, but

in which there is nothing Scotch save the costumes--no "atmosphere,"

no local colour. These things are taken seriously by modern Italian

composers, who do not ignore melody, yet also appreciate the value of

an eloquent instrumental support to the voice score; whereas the older

Italian opera composers were content to distribute melody with a

lavish hand and took little else into account.

In character delineation in the opera _Butterfly_ dominates. She is a

sweet, trusting, pathetic little creature--traits expressed in the

music as clearly as in the drama. The sturdy devotion of _Suzuki_ is,

if possible, brought out in an even stronger light in the opera than

in the drama, and _Sharpless_ is admirably drawn. _Pinkerton_, of

course, cannot be made sympathetic. All that can be expected of him is

that he be a tenor, and sing the beautiful music allotted to him in

the first act with tender and passionate expression.

The use of the "Star-Spangled Banner" motif as a personal theme for

_Pinkerton_, always has had a disagreeable effect upon me, and from

now on should be objected to by all Americans. Some one in authority,

a manager like Gatti-Casazza, or Ricordi & Co.'s American

representatives, should call Puccini's attention to the fact that his

employment of the National Anthem of the United States of America in

"Madama Butterfly" is highly objectionable and might, in time, become

offensive; although no offence was meant by him.

I "did" the first night of David Belasco's play "Madam Butterfly" for

the New York _Herald_. The production occurred at the Herald Square

Theatre, Broadway and Thirty-fifth Street, New York, March 5, 1900,

with Blanche Bates as _Butterfly_. It was given with "Naughty

Anthony," a farce-comedy also by Belasco, which had been a failure.

The tragedy had been constructed with great rapidity from John Luther

Long's story, but its success was even swifter. At the Duke of York's

Theatre, London, it was seen by Francis Nielsen, stage manager of

Covent Garden, who immediately sent word to Puccini urging him to come

from Milan to London to see a play which, in his hands, might well

become a successful opera. Puccini came at once, with the result that

he created a work which has done its full share toward making the

modern Italian lyric stage as flourishing as all unprejudiced critics

concede it to be.

The Milan production of "Madama Butterfly" was an utter failure. The

audience hooted, the prima donna was in tears. The only person behind

the scenes not disconcerted was the composer, whose faith in his work

was so soon to be justified.

LA FANCIULLA DEL WEST

(THE GIRL OF THE GOLDEN WEST)

Opera in three acts by Puccini; words by C. Zangarini and G.

Civini, after the play by David Belasco. Produced,

Metropolitan Opera House, New York, December 10, 1910, with

Destinn, Mattfeld, Caruso, Amato, Reiss, Didur, Dinh-Gilly,

Pini-Corsi, and De Segurola.

CHARACTERS

MINNIE _Soprano_

JACK RANCE, sheriff _Baritone_

DICK JOHNSON (Ramerrez) _Tenor_

NICK, bartender at the "Polka" _Tenor_

ASHBY, Wells-Fargo agent _Bass_

SONORA } _Baritone_

TRIM } _Tenor_

SID } _Baritone_

HANDSOME } Miners _Baritone_

HARRY } _Tenor_

JOE } _Tenor_

HAPPY } _Baritone_

LARKENS } _Bass_

BILLY JACKRABBIT, an Indian redskin _Bass_

WOWKLE, Billy's squaw _Mezzo-Soprano_

JAKE WALLACE, a travelling camp

minstrel _Baritone_

JOSÉ CASTRO, a greaser from

Ramerrez's gang _Bass_

A POSTILLION _Tenor_

MEN OF THE CAMP

_Time_--1849-1850, the days of the gold fever.

_Place_--A mining-camp at the foot of the Cloudy Mountains,

California.

[Illustration: Photo by White

Destinn as Minnie, Caruso as Johnson, and Amato as Jack Rance in "The

Girl of the Golden West"]

Successful in producing "atmosphere" in "La Bohème," "Tosca," and

"Madama Butterfly," Puccini has utterly failed in his effort to do so

in his "Girl of the Golden West." Based upon an American play, the

scene laid in America and given in America for the first time on any

stage, the opera has not been, the more's the pity, a success.

In the first act, laid in the "Polka" bar-room, after a scene of

considerable length for the miners (intended, no doubt, to create

"atmosphere") there is an episode between _Rance_ and _Minnie_, in

which it develops that _Rance_ wants to marry her, but that she does

not care for him. _Johnson_ comes in. He and _Minnie_ have met but

once before, but have been strongly attracted to each other. She asks

him to visit her in her cabin, where they will be undisturbed by the

crowd, which has gone off to hunt for Ramerrez, head of a band of

outlaws, reported to be in the vicinity but which soon may be back.

The scene of the second act is _Minnie's_ cabin, which consists of a

room and loft. After a brief scene for _Billy_ and _Wowkle_, _Minnie_

comes in. Through night and a blizzard _Johnson_ makes his way up the

mountainside. There is a love scene--then noises outside. People are

approaching. Not wishing to be found with _Johnson_, _Minnie_ forces

him to hide. _Rance_ and others, who are on the trail of _Ramerrez_

and hope to catch or kill him any moment, come in to warn her that

_Johnson_ is Ramerrez. When they have gone, and _Johnson_ acknowledges

that he is the outlaw, _Minnie_ denounces him and sends him out into

the blizzard. There is a shot. _Johnson_, sorely wounded, staggers

into the cabin. A knock at the door. _Rance's_ voice. With _Minnie's_

aid the wounded man reaches the loft where he collapses.

_Rance_ enters, expecting to find _Johnson_. He is almost persuaded by

_Minnie_ that the fugitive is not there, when, through the loose

timbers of the loft, a drop of blood falls on his hand. _Minnie_

proposes that they play cards--_Johnson_ to live, or she to marry the

sheriff. They play. She cheats, and wins.

The third act is laid in the forest. _Johnson_, who has recovered and

left _Minnie's_ cabin, is caught, and is to be hung. But at the

critical moment _Minnie_ arrives, and her pleading moves the men to

spare him, in spite of _Rance's_ protests. They leave to begin a new

life elsewhere.

In the score there is much recitative. It is not interesting in

itself, nor is it made so by the insufficiently varied instrumental

accompaniment. For the action of the play is too vigorous to find

expression by means of the Debussyan manner that predominates in the

orchestra. The most genuinely inspired musical number is _Johnson's_

solo in the last act, when it seems certain that he is about to be

executed.--"Ch'ella mi creda libero e lontano" (Let her believe that I

have gained my freedom).

LA RONDINE

THE SWALLOW

The opera begins in Paris during the Second Empire. _Magda_, the

heroine, is a _demi-mondaine_ living under the protection of the rich

banker _Rambaldo_. Satisfied with the luxuries he lavishes upon her,

she longs for true affection, and is unable to stifle the remembrance

of her first love, a poor young student. She meets _Ruggero_, who like

her earlier love, is young and poor, and a student. At Bouilliers, the

rendezvous of the gay life of Paris, _Ruggero_ declares his love for

_Magda_. They leave Paris for Nice, where they hope to lead an idyllic

existence.

_Ruggero_ looks forward to a life of perfect happiness. He writes to

his parents asking their consent to his marriage with _Magda_. The

reply is that if she is virtuous and honourable, she will be received

with open arms. _Magda_ now considers herself (like _Violetta_ in "La

Traviata") unworthy of _Ruggero's_ love and lest she shall bring

dishonour upon the man she loves, she parts with him. Other principal

rôles are _Lisetta_ and _Prunia_, and there are numerous second parts

requiring first-rate artists.

In the second act of "La Rondine" is a quartet which, it is said,

Puccini believes will rival that at the end of the third act in "La

Bohème." "I have let my pen run," he is reported to have said, "and no

other method suffices to obtain good results, in my opinion. No matter

what marvellous technical effects may be worked up by lengthy

meditation, I believe in heart in preference to head."

The opera was produced in March, 1917, in Monte Carlo, and during the

summer of the same year, in Buenos Aires. Puccini intended to compose

it with dialogue as a genuine opéra comique, but finally substituted

recitative. The work is said to approach opéra comique in style.

Reports regarding its success vary.

After the first Italian performance, San Carlo Theatre, Naples,

February 26, 1918, Puccini, according to report, decided to revise "La

Rondine." Revision, as in the case of "Madama Butterfly," may make a

great success of it.

ONE-ACT OPERAS

Three one-act operas by Puccini have been composed for performance at

one sitting. They are "Suor Angelica" (Sister Angelica), "Il Tabarro"

(The Cloak), and "Gianni Schicchi." The motifs of these operas are

sentiment, tragedy, and humour.

The scene of "Suor Angelica" is laid within the walls of a mountain

convent, whither she has retired to expiate an unfortunate past. Her

first contact with the outer world is through a visit from an aunt,

who needs her signature to a document. Timidly she asks about the tiny

mite, whom she was constrained to abandon before she entered the

convent. Harshly the aunt replies that the child is dead. _Sister

Angelica_ decides to make an end to her life amid the flowers she

loves. Dying, she appeals for pardon for her act of self-destruction.

The doors of the convent church open, and a dazzling light pours forth

revealing the Virgin Mary on the threshold surrounded by angels, who,

intoning a sweet chorus, bear the poor, penitent, and weary soul to

eternal peace. This little work is entirely for female voices.

The libretto of "Il Tabarro" is tragic. The great scene is between a

husband and his wife. The husband has killed her lover, whose body he

shows to his unfaithful wife, lifting from the ground the cloak (il

tabarro) under which it is hidden.

The scene of "Il Tabarro" is laid on the deck of a Seine barge at

sunset, when the day's work is over, and after dark. The husband is

_Michele_, the wife _Giorgetta_, the lover, _Luigi_, and there are two

other bargemen. These latter go off after the day's work. _Luigi_

lingers in the cabin. He persuades _Giorgetta_ that, when all is quiet

on the barge, and it will be safe for him to return to her, she shall

strike a match as a signal. He then goes.

_Michele_ has suspected his wife. He reminds her of their early love,

when he sheltered her under his cloak. _Giorgetta_, however, receives

these reminiscences coldly, feigns weariness, and retires to the

cabin.

It has grown dark. _Michele_ lights his pipe. _Luigi_, thinking it is

_Giorgetta's_ signal, clambers up the side of the barge, where he is

seized and choked to death by _Michele_, who takes his cloak and

covers the corpse with it.

_Giorgetta_ has heard sounds of a struggle. She comes on deck in

alarm, but is somewhat reassured, when she sees _Michele_ sitting

alone and quietly smoking. Still somewhat nervous, however, she

endeavours to atone for her frigidity toward him, but a short time

before, by "making up" to him, telling him, among other things, that

she well recalls their early love and wishes she could again find

shelter in the folds of his big cloak. For reply, he raises the cloak,

and lets her see _Luigi's_ corpse.

I have read another synopsis of this plot, in which _Michele_ forces

his wife's face close to that of her dead lover. At the same moment,

one of the other bargemen, whose wife also had betrayed him, returns

brandishing the bloody knife, with which he has slain her. The simpler

version surely is more dramatic than the one of cumulative horrors.

* * * * *

When the action of "Gianni Schicchi" opens one _Donati_ has been dead

for two hours. His relations are thinking of the will. A young man of

the house hands it to his mother [Transcriber's Note: should be

'aunt'] but exacts the promise that he shall marry the daughter of

neighbour _Schicchi_. When the will is read, it is found that _Donati_

has left his all to charity. _Schicchi_ is called in, and consulted.

He plans a ruse. So far only those in the room know of _Donati's_

demise. The corpse is hidden. _Schicchi_ gets into bed, and, when the

_Doctor_ calls, imitates the dead man's voice and pretends he wants to

sleep. The lawyer is sent for. _Schicchi_ dictates a new will--in

favour of himself, and becomes the heir, in spite of the anger of the

others.

Riccardo Zandonai

FRANCESCA DA RIMINI

FRANCESCA OF RIMINI

Opera in four acts, by Riccardo Zandonai; words by Tito

Ricordi, after the drama of the same title by Gabriele

d'Annunzio. English version from Arthur Symons's translation

of the drama. Produced, Reggio Theatre, Turin, February 1,

1914. Covent Garden Theatre, London, July 16, 1914.

Metropolitan Opera House, New York, December 22, 1916, with

Alda (_Francesca_), Martinelli (_Paolo_), and Amato

(_Giovanni_).

CHARACTERS

GIOVANNI, the lame } sons of { _Baritone_

PAOLO, the beautiful } Malatesta da { _Tenor_

MALATESTINO, the one-eyed } Verrucchio { _Tenor_

OSTASIO, son of Guido Minore da Polenta _Baritone_

SER TOLDO BERARDENGO, a notary _Tenor_

A JESTER _Bass_

A BOWMAN _Tenor_

TOWER WARDEN _Baritone_

FRANCESCA, daughter of Guido and sister

of Ostasio _Soprano_

SAMARITANA, sister of Francesca

and Ostasio _Soprano_

BIANCOFIORE } { _Soprano_

GARSENDA } women of Francesca { _Soprano_

ALTICHIARA } { _Mezzo-Soprano_

DONELLA _Mezzo-Soprano_

SMARADI, a slave _Contralto_

Bowmen, archers, and musicians.

_Time_--Thirteenth century.

_Place_--First act, Ravenna, then Rimini.

A pretentious but not wholly successful score based upon a somewhat

diffuse drama--such is the net impression made by Zandonai's opera

"Francesca da Rimini." The story of Francesca and Paolo is one of the

world's immortal tales of passion, and an opera set to it should be

inspired beyond almost any other. But as W.J. Henderson wrote in the

New York _Sun_ the day after the production of Zandonai's work in New

York, "In all human probability the full measure of 'love insatiable'

was never taken in music but once, and we cannot expect a second

'Tristan und Isolde' so soon."

Act I. The scene is a court in the house of the Polentani, in Ravenna,

adjacent to a garden, whose bright colours are seen through a pierced

marble screen. A colloquy between _Francesca's_ brother _Ostasio_ and

the notary _Ser Toldo Berardengo_ informs us that for reasons of

state, _Francesca_ is to be married to that one of the three sons of

Malatesta da Verrucchio, who although named _Giovanni_, is known as

_Gianciotto, the Lamester_, because of his deformity and ugliness. As

_Francesca_ surely would refuse to marry _Gianciotto_, a plot has been

formed by which she is introduced to his handsome younger brother

_Paolo_, with whom, under the impression that he is her destined

bridegroom, she falls deeply in love at first sight, a passion that is

fully reciprocated by him, although they have only beheld each other,

and not yet exchanged a word.

Such is the procedure of the first act. When _Francesca_ and _Paolo_

behold each other through the marble screen, which divides the court

from the garden, in which _Paolo_ stands amid brightly coloured

flowers, the orchestra intones a phrase which may properly be called

the love motif.

[Music]

The act is largely lyric in its musical effect. Much charm is given to

it by the quartette of women who attend upon _Francesca_. Almost at

the outset the composer creates what might be called the necessary

love mood, by a playful scene between _Francesca's_ women and a

strolling jester, who chants for them the story of "Tristan und

Isolde." The setting of the scene is most picturesque. In fact

everything in this act tends to create "atmosphere," and were the rest

of the opera as successful, it would be one of the finest works of its

kind to have come out of modern Italy.

Act II. The scene is the interior of a round tower in the fortified

castle of the Malatestas. The summit of the tower is crowned with

engines of war and arms. There are heavy cross-bows, ballistas, a

catapult, and other mediæval machinery of battle. The castle is a

stronghold of the Guelfs. In the distance, beyond the city of Rimini,

are seen the battlements of the highest Ghibelline Tower. A narrow

fortified window looks out on the Adriatic.

Soon after the act opens, an attack takes place. The battle rages.

Amid all this distracting, and therefore futile tumult, occurs the

first meeting between _Francesca_ and _Paolo_, since the marriage into

which she was tricked. Their love is obvious enough. _Paolo_

despairingly seeks death, to which _Francesca_ also exposes herself by

remaining on the platform of the tower during the combat. The relation

between these two principal characters of the opera is clearly enough

set forth, and the impression made by it would be forcible, were not

attention distracted by the fiercely raging mediæval combat.

The Malatestas are victorious. The attacking foes are driven off.

_Gianciotto_ comes upon the platform and brings news to _Paolo_ of his

election as Captain of the people and Commune of Florence, for which

city _Paolo_ departs.

[Illustration: Photo by White

Alda as Francesca and Martinelli as Paolo in "Francesca da Rimini"]

Act III. The scene is the beautiful apartment of _Francesca_, where,

from an old tome, she is reading to her women the story of _Lancelot

and Guenevere_. This episode has somewhat of the same charm as that

which pervaded portions of the first act. Especially is this true,

when to the accompaniment of archaic instruments, the women sing their

measures in praise of spring, "Marzo è giunto, e Febbraio gito se n'è

col ghiado" (March comes, and February goes with the wind today).

[Music]

The women dance and sing, until on a whispered word from her slave,

_Francesca_ dismisses them. _Paolo_ has returned. The greeting from

her to him is simple enough: "Benvenuto, signore mio cognato" (Welcome

my lord and kinsman), but the music is charged with deeper

significance.

[Music]

Even more pronounced is the meaning in the musical phrase at

Francesca's words, "Paolo, datemi pace" (Paolo, give me peace).

[Music]

Together they read the story which _Francesca_ had begun reading to

her women. Their heads come close together over the book. Their white

faces bend over it until their cheeks almost touch; and when in the

ancient love tale, the queen and her lover kiss, _Francesca's_ and

_Paolo's_ lips meet and linger in an ecstasy of passion.

Act IV. This act is divided into two parts. The scene of the first

part is an octagonal hall of gray stone. A grated door leads to a

subterranean prison. Cries of a prisoner from there have disturbed

Francesca. When she complains of this to the youngest brother of

_Gianciotto_, _Malatestino_, he goes down into the prison and kills

the captive. The introduction to this act is, appropriately enough,

based on an abrupt phrase.

[Music]

_Malatestino_ is desperately in love with Francesca, urges his suit

upon her, and even hints that he would go to the length of poisoning

_Gianciotto_. _Francesca_ repulses him. Out of revenge he excites the

jealousy of _Gianciotto_ by arousing his suspicions of _Paolo_ and

_Francesca_, pointing out especially that _Paolo_ has returned from

Florence much sooner than his duties there would justify him in doing.

The scene of part two is laid in _Francesca's_ chamber. It is night.

Four waxen torches burn in iron candlesticks. _Francesca_ is lying on

the bed. From her sleep she is roused by a wild dream that harm has

come to _Paolo_. Her women try to comfort her. After an exchange of

gentle and affectionate phrases, she dismisses them.

A light knocking at the door, and _Paolo's_ voice calling,

"Francesca!" She flings open the door and throws herself into the arms

of her lover. There is an interchange of impassioned phrases. Then a

violent shock is heard at the door, followed by the voice of

_Gianciotto_, demanding admission. _Paolo_ spies a trap door in the

floor of the apartment, pulls the bolt, and bids _Francesca_ open the

door of the room for her husband, while he escapes.

_Gianciotto_ rushes into the room. _Paolo's_ cloak has caught in the

bolt of the trap door. He is still standing head and shoulders above

the level of the floor. Seizing him by the hair, the _Lamester_ forces

him to come up. _Paolo_ unsheathes his dagger. _Gianciotto_ draws his

sword, thrusts at _Paolo_. _Francesca_ throws herself between the two

men, receives the thrust of her husband's sword full in the breast,

and falls into _Paolo's_ arms. Mad with rage, her deformed husband

with another deadly thrust pierces his brother's side. _Paolo_ and

_Francesca_ fall at full length to the floor. With a painful effort,

_Gianciotto_ breaks his bloodstained sword over his knee.

Where the drama is lyric in character, and where it concentrates upon

the hot-blooded love story, a tradition in the Malatesta family, and

narrated by a Malatesta to Dante, who, as is well known, used it in

his "Inferno," the music is eloquent. Where, however, the action

becomes diffuse, and attention is drawn to subsidiary incidents, as is

far too often the case, interest in the music flags. With great

benefit to the score at least a third of the libretto could be

sacrificed.

* * * * *

Riccardo Zandonai was born at Sacco. He studied with Gianferrai and at

the Rossini Conservatory. "Conchita," another opera by him, Milan,

1912, was produced in this country in Chicago and New York in 1913.

Franco Leoni

L'ORACOLO

THE SAGE

Opera in one act by Franco Leoni, words by Camillo Zanoni,

adapted from the play, "The Cat and the Cherub," by Chester

Bailey Fernald. Produced, Covent Garden Theatre, London,

June 28, 1905. Metropolitan Opera House, New York, February

4, 1915, with Scotti, as _Chim-Fen_; Didur, as _Win-She_;

Botta, as _Win-San-Lui_; and Bori, as _Ah-Joe_.

CHARACTERS

WIN-SHE, a wise man, called the Sage _Baritone_

CHIM-FEN, an opium den proprietor _Baritone_

WIN-SAN-LUI, son of Win-She _Tenor_

HU-TSIN, a rich merchant _Bass_

HU-CHI, a child, son of Hu-Tsin

AH-JOE, niece of Hu-Tsin _Soprano_

HUA-QUI, nurse of Hu-Chi _Contralto_

Four opium fiends, a policeman, an opium maniac, a

soothsayer, distant voices, four vendors, Chinese men,

women, and children.

_Time_--The present.

_Place_--Chinatown, San Francisco.

_Chim-Fen_ is about to close up his opium den. A man half crazed by

the drug comes up its steps and slinks away.

Out of the house of the merchant _Hu-Tsin_ comes _Hua-Qui_, the nurse

of _Hu-Tsin's_ son, _Hu-Chi_. _Chim-Fen_ wants to marry the merchant's

daughter _Ah-Joe_. The nurse is in league with him. She brings him a

fan, upon which _Ah-Joe's_ lover, _San-Lui_, son of the sage,

_Win-She_, has written an avowal of love. _Hua-Qui_ is jealous,

because _Chim-Fen_ is in love with _Ah-Joe_. Her jealousy annoys him.

He threatens her and drives her away.

Four gamblers, drunk with opium, emerge from the den. _Chim-Fen_ looks

after them with contempt. It is now very early in the morning of New

Year's Day. _Win-She_ comes along. _Chim-Fen_ greets him obsequiously

and is admonished by the sage to mend his vile ways.

_San-Lui_ sings a serenade to _Ah-Joe_, who comes out on her balcony

to hear him. People pass by, street venders cry their wares. _Ah-Joe_

withdraws into the house, _San-Lui_ goes his way. When _Hu-Tsin_, the

rich merchant, comes out, he is accosted by _Chim-Fen_, who asks for

the promise of _Ah-Joe's_ hand. _Hu-Tsin_ spurns the proposal.

A fortune-teller comes upon the scene. _Chim-Fen_ has his fortune

told. "A vile past, a future possessed of the devil. Wash you of your

slime." When _Chim-Fen_ threatens the fortune-teller, the crowd, which

has gathered, hoots him and repeats the words of the fortune-teller

amid howls and jeers.

_Hu-Tsin_, with _Ah-Joe_, _Hua-Qui_, and the baby boy come into the

street, where _Win-She_, gathering a group of worshippers about him,

bids _San-Lui_ prevent the crowd from creating a disturbance, then,

with all the people kneeling, intones a prayer, from which he finally

passes into a trance. When he comes out of it, he says that he has

seen two souls, one aspiring toward Nirvana, the other engulfed in the

inferno. He also has witnessed the grief of a father at the killing of

a hope. At this _Hu-Tsin_ shows alarm for the safety of _Hu-Chi_, and

the people join in lamentations, but _Win-She_ prophesies, "_Hu-Chi_

is safe."

Along comes the procession of the dragon. In watching this _Hua-Qui_

neglects her charge. Utilizing this opportunity _Chim-Fen_ seizes the

child and carries him off into his cellar. When _Hu-Tsin_ discovers

the loss and has berated the nurse, he offers to give the hand of

_Ah-Joe_ in marriage to the finder of his son. This is just what

_Chim-Fen_ expected. _San-Lui_, however, immediately takes up the

search, in spite of _Ah-Joe's_ protests, for the girl fears that some

harm will come to him.

_San-Lui_ starts towards _Chim-Fen's_ den. _Hua-Qui_ tries to warn

him, by telling him how the opium dealer deceived her and is seeking

the hand of _Ah-Joe_, in order to obtain _Hu-Tsin's_ money. _San-Lui_,

however, compels _Chim-Fen_ to descend with him to the cellar, where

he finds and is about to rescue _Hu-Chi_, when _Chim-Fen_ kills him

with a hatchet. _San-Lui_ staggers up the steps to the street, calls

_Ah-Joe's_ name, and falls dead. She wails over his body, a crowd

gathers, and _Hu-Tsin_ is horror-stricken to find that the man who has

been slain at his door is _San-Lui_.

_Win-She_, the father of _San-Lui_, tells the merchant to wait; the

death of _San-Lui_ will be avenged. Immediately _Win-She_ goes over to

the opium den, hears the child's cry in the cellar, finds _Hu-Chi_ and

restores him to his father. He then goes to the door of the opium den,

calls _Chim-Fen_, who comes out, apparently filled with indignation

against the murderer of _Win-She's_ son, whom he says he would like to

throttle with his own hands. From the merchant's house there is heard

every now and then the voice of _Ah-Joe_, who has lost her reason

through grief, and is calling her lover's name.

The two men seat themselves on a bench near the opium den. _Win-She_

speaks calmly, quietly, and unperceived by _Chim-Fen_, draws a knife,

and plunges it into the villain's back. _Chim-Fen_ not dying at once,

_Win-She_ quietly winds the man's own pigtail around his neck and

proceeds slowly and gradually to strangle him, meanwhile disclosing

his knowledge of the murder, but without raising his voice, propping

up _Chim-Fen_ against some cases, and speaking so quietly, that a

policeman, who saunters by, thinks two Chinamen are in conversation,

and turns the corner without realizing that anything is wrong.

_Win-She_ now goes his way. _Chim-Fen's_ body falls to the ground.

It will have been observed that many incidents are crowded into this

one act, but that the main features of the drama, the villainy of

_Chim-Fen_, and the calm clairvoyance of _Win-She_ are never lost

sight of.

The music consists mainly of descriptive and dramatic phrases, with

but little attempt to give the score definite Chinese colouring.

_Ah-Joe's_ song on her balcony to the silvery dawn is the most tuneful

passage in the opera. Scotti, whose _Chim-Fen_ is a performance of

sinister power, Didur (_Win-She_), and Bori (_Ah-Joe_) were in the

Metropolitan production.

* * * * *

Franco Leoni was born at Milan, October 24, 1864. He studied under

Ponchielli at the Conservatory in his native city. Other works by him

are "Rip Van Winkle," "Raggio di Luna," and "Ib and Little

Christina."

Italo Montemezzi

L'AMORE DEI TRE RE

THE LOVE OF THREE KINGS

Opera in three acts, by Italo Montemezzi; words by Sem

Benelli, from his tragedy ("tragic poem") of the same title,

English version, by Mrs. R.H. Elkin. Produced, La Scala,

Milan, April 10, 1913; Metropolitan Opera House, New York,

January 2, 1914, with Didur (_Archibaldo_), Amato

(_Manfredo_), Ferrari-Fontana (_Avito_), Bori (_Fiora_).

Covent Garden Theatre, London, May 27, 1914. Théâtre des

Champs Elysées, Paris, April 25, 1914. In the Milan

production Luisa Villani was _Fiora_, and Ferrari-Fontana

_Avito_.

CHARACTERS

ARCHIBALDO, King of Altura _Bass_

MANFREDO, son of Archibaldo _Baritone_

AVITO, a former prince of Altura _Tenor_

FLAMINIO, a castle guard _Tenor_

FIORA, wife of Manfredo _Soprano_

A youth, a boy child (voice behind the scenes), a voice

behind the scenes, a handmaiden, a young girl, an old woman,

other people of Altura.

_Time_--The tenth century.

_Place_--A remote castle of Italy, forty years after a

Barbarian invasion, led by _Archibaldo_.

[Illustration: Photo by Mishkin

Bori and Ferrari-Fontana in "The Love of Three Kings"]

This opera is justly considered one of the finest products of modern

Italian genius. Based upon a powerful tragedy, by Sem Benelli, one of

the foremost of living playwrights in Italy, it is a combination of

terse, swiftly moving drama with a score which vividly depicts events

progressing fatefully toward an inevitable human cataclysm. While

there is little or no set melody in Montemezzi's score, nevertheless

it is melodious--a succession of musical phrases that clothe the

words, the thought behind them, their significance, their most subtle

suggestion, in the weft and woof of expressive music. It is a mediæval

tapestry, the colours of which have not faded, but still glow with

their original depth and opulence. Of the many scores that have come

out of Italy since the death of Verdi, "L'Amore dei Tre Re" is one of

the most eloquent.

Act I. The scene is a spacious hall open to a terrace. A lantern

employed as a signal sheds its reddish light dimly through the gloom

before dawn.

From the left enters _Archibaldo_. He is old with flowing white hair

and beard, and he is blind. He is led in by his guide _Flaminio_, who

is in the dress of the castle guard. As if he saw, the old blind king

points to the door of a chamber across the hall and bids _Flaminio_

look and tell him if it is quite shut. It is slightly open.

_Archibaldo_ in a low voice orders him to shut it, but make no noise,

then, hastily changing his mind, to leave it as it is.

In the setting of the scene, in the gloom penetrated only by the glow

of the red lantern, in the costumes of the men, in the actions of the

old king, who cannot see but whose sense of hearing is weirdly acute,

and in the subtle suggestion of suspicion that all is not well,

indicated in his restlessness, the very opening of this opera

immediately casts a spell of the uncanny over the hearer. This is

enhanced by the groping character of the theme which accompanies the

entrance of _Archibaldo_ with his guide, depicting the searching

footsteps of the blind old man.

[Music]

There is mention of _Fiora_, the wife of _Archibaldo's_ son,

_Manfredo_, who is in the north, laying siege to an enemy stronghold.

There also is mention of _Avito_, a prince of Altura, to whom _Fiora_

was betrothed before _Archibaldo_ humbled Italy, but whose marriage to

_Manfredo_, notwithstanding her previous betrothal, was one of the

conditions of peace. Presumably--as is to be gathered from the brief

colloquy--_Archibaldo_ has come into the hall to watch with _Flaminio_

for the possible return of _Manfredo_, but the restlessness of the old

king, his commands regarding the door opposite, and even certain

inferences to be drawn from what he says, lead to the conclusion that

he suspects his son's wife and _Avito_. It is also clear--subtly

conveyed, without being stated in so many words--that _Flaminio_,

though in the service of _Archibaldo_, is faithful to _Avito_, like

himself a native of the country, which _Archibaldo_ has conquered.

When _Flaminio_ reminds _Archibaldo_ that _Avito_ was to have wedded

_Fiora_, the blind king bids his guide look out into the valley for

any sign of _Manfredo's_ approach. "Nessuno, mio signore! Tutto è

pace!" is Flaminio's reply. (No one, my lord! All is quiet!)

[Music]

_Archibaldo_, recalling his younger years, tells eloquently of his

conquest of Italy, apostrophizing the ravishing beauty of the country,

when it first met his gaze, before he descended the mountains from

which he beheld it. He then bids _Flaminio_ put out the lantern, since

_Manfredo_ comes not. _Flaminio_ obeys then, as there is heard in the

distance the sound of a rustic flute, he urges upon _Archibaldo_ that

they go. It is nearly dawn, the flute appears to have been a signal

which _Flaminio_ understands. He is obviously uneasy, as he leads

_Archibaldo_ out of the hall.

_Avito_ and _Fiora_ come out of her room. The woman's hair hangs in

disorder around her face, her slender figure is draped in a very fine

ivory-white garment. The very quiet that prevails fills _Avito_ with

apprehension. It is the woman, confident through love, that seeks to

reassure him. "Dammi le labbra, e tanta ti darò di questa pace!" (Give

me thy lips, and I will give thee of this peace).

[Music]

For the moment _Avito_ is reassured. There is a brief but passionate

love scene. Then _Avito_ perceives that the lantern has been

extinguished. He is sure someone has been there, and they are spied

upon. Once more _Fiora_ tries to give him confidence. Then she herself

hears someone approaching. _Avito_ escapes from the terrace into the

dim daylight. The door on the left opens and _Archibaldo_ appears

alone. He calls "Fiora! Fiora! Fiora!"

Concealing every movement from the old man's ears, she endeavours to

glide back to her chamber. But he hears her.

"I hear thee breathing! Thou'rt breathless and excited! O Fiora, say,

with whom hast thou been speaking?"

Deliberately she lies to him. She has been speaking to no one. His

keen sense tells him that she lies. For when she sought to escape from

him, he heard her "gliding thro' the shadows like a snowy wing."

_Flaminio_ comes hurrying in. The gleam of armoured men has been seen

in the distance. _Manfredo_ is returning. His trumpet is sounded. Even

now he is upon the battlement and embraced by his father. Longing for

his wife, _Fiora_, has led him for a time to forsake the siege.

_Fiora_ greets him, but with no more than a semblance of kindness.

With cunning, she taunts _Archibaldo_ by telling _Manfredo_ that she

had come out upon the terrace at dawn to watch for him, the truth of

which assertion _Archibaldo_ can affirm, for he found her there. As

they go to their chamber, the old man, troubled, suspecting, fearing,

thanks God that he is blind.

Act II. The scene is a circular terrace on the high castle walls. A

single staircase leads up to the battlements. It is afternoon. The sky

is covered with changing, fleeting clouds. Trumpet blasts are heard

from the valley. From the left comes _Manfredo_ with his arms around

_Fiora_. He pleads with her for her love. As a last boon before he

departs he asks her that she will mount the stairway and, as he

departs down the valley, wave to him with her scarf. Sincerely moved

to pity by his plea, a request so simple and yet seemingly meaning so

much to him, she promises that this shall be done. He bids her

farewell, kisses her, and rushes off to lead his men back to the

siege.

_Fiora_ tries to shake off the sensation of her husband's embrace. She

ascends to the battlemented wall. A handmaid brings her an inlaid

casket, from which she draws forth a long white scarf. The orchestra

graphically depicts the departure of _Manfredo_ at the head of his

cavalcade.

[Music]

_Fiora_ sees the horsemen disappear in the valley. As she waves the

veil, her hand drops wearily each time. _Avito_ comes. He tells her it

is to say farewell. At first, still touched by the pity which she has

felt for her husband, _Fiora_ restrains her passionate longing for

her lover, once or twice waves the scarf, tries to do so again, lets

her arms drop, her head droop, then, coming down the steps, falls into

his arms open to receive her, and they kiss each other as if dying of

love. "Come tremi, diletto" (How thou art trembling, beloved!)

whispers Fiora.

[Music]

"Guarda in sù! Siamo in cielo!" (Look up! We are in heaven!) responds

_Avito_.

[Music]

But the avenger is nigh. He is old, he is blind, but he knows. _Avito_

is about to throw himself upon him with his drawn dagger, but is

stopped by a gesture from _Flaminio_, who has followed the king.

_Avito_ goes. But _Archibaldo_ has heard his footsteps. The king

orders _Flaminio_ to leave him with _Fiora_. _Flaminio_ bids him

listen to the sound of horses' hoofs in the valley. _Manfredo_ is

returning. _Fiora_ senses that her husband has suddenly missed the

waving of the scarf. _Archibaldo_ orders _Flaminio_ to go meet the

prince.

The old king bluntly accuses _Fiora_ of having been with her lover.

Cowering on a stone bench that runs around the wall, she denies it.

_Archibaldo_ seizes her. Rearing like a serpent, _Fiora_, losing all

fear, in the almost certainty of death at the hands of the powerful

old man, who holds her, boldly vaunts her lover to him. _Archibaldo_

demands his name, that he and his son may be avenged upon him. She

refuses to divulge it. He seizes her by the throat, again demands the

name, and when she again refuses to betray her lover, throttles her to

death. _Manfredo_ arrives. Briefly the old man tells him of _Fiora's_

guilt. Yet _Manfredo_ cannot hate her. He is moved to pity by the

great love of which her heart was capable, though it was not for him.

He goes out slowly, while _Archibaldo_ hoists the slender body of the

dead woman across his chest, and follows him.

Act III. The crypt of the castle, where _Fiora_ lies upon her bier

with white flowers all about her, and tapers at her head and feet.

Around her, people of her country, young and old, make their moan,

while from within the chapel voices of a choir are heard.

Out of the darkness comes _Avito_. The others depart in order that he

may be alone with his beloved dead, for he too is of their country,

and they know. "Fiora! Fiora!--È silenzio!" (Fiora! Fiora!--Silence

surrounds us) are his first words, as he gazes upon her.

[Music: Fiora, Fiora! È silenzio.]

Then, desperately, he throws himself beside her and presses his lips

on hers. A sudden chill, as of approaching death, passes through him.

He rises, takes a few tottering steps toward the exit.

Like a shadow, _Manfredo_ approaches. He has come to seize his wife's

lover, whose name his father could not wring from her, but whom at

last they have caught. He recognizes _Avito_. Then it was he whom she

adored.

"What do you want?" asks _Avito_. "Can you not see that I can scarcely

speak?"

Scarcely speak? He might as well be dead. Upon _Fiora's_ lips

_Archibaldo_ has spread a virulent poison, knowing well that her lover

would come into the crypt to kiss her, and in that very act would

drain the poison from her lips and die. Thus would they track him.

With his last breath, _Avito_ tells that she loved him as the life

that they took from her, aye, even more. Despite the avowal,

_Manfredo_ cannot hate him; but rather is he moved to wonder at the

vast love _Fiora_ was capable of bestowing, yet not upon himself.

_Avito_ is dead. _Manfredo_, too, throws himself upon _Fiora's_

corpse, and from her lips draws in what remains of the poison,

quivers, while death slowly creeps through his veins, then enters

eternal darkness, as _Archibaldo_ gropes his way into the crypt.

The blind king approaches the bier, feels a body lying by it, believes

he has caught _Fiora's_ lover, only to find that the corpse is that of

his son.

Such is the love of three kings;--of _Archibaldo_ for his son, of

_Avito_ for the woman who loved him, of _Manfredo_ for the woman who

loved him not.

Or, if deeper meaning is looked for in Sem Benelli's powerful tragedy,

the three kings are in love with Italy, represented by _Fiora_, who

hates and scorns the conqueror of her country, _Archibaldo_; coldly

turns aside from _Manfredo_, his son and heir apparent with whose hand

he sought to bribe her; hotly loves, and dies for a prince of her own

people, _Avito_. Tragic is the outcome of the conqueror's effort to

win and rule over an unwilling people. Truly, he is blind.

* * * * *

Italo Montemezzi was born in 1875, in Verona. A choral work by him,

"Cantico dei Cantici," was produced at the Milan Conservatory, 1900.

Besides "L'Amore dei Tre Re," he has composed the operas "Giovanni

Gallurese," Turin, 1905, and "Hélléra," Turin, 1909.

Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari

Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari was born in Venice, January 12, 1876, the son of

August Wolf, a German painter, and an Italian mother. At first

self-taught in music, he studied later with Rheinberger in Munich.

From 1902-09 he was director of the conservatory Licio Benedetto

Marcello. He composed, to words by Dante, the oratorio "La Vita

Nuova." His operas, "Le Donne Curiose," "Il Segreto di Susanna," and

"L'Amore Medico," are works of the utmost delicacy. They had not,

however, been able to hold their own on the operatic stage of

English-speaking countries. This may explain the composer's plunge

into so exaggerated, and "manufactured" a blood and thunder work as

"The Jewels of the Madonna." In American opera this has held its own

in the repertoire of the Chicago Opera Company. It has at least some

substance, some approach to passion, even if this appears worked up

when compared with such spontaneous productions as "Cavalleria

Rusticana" and "I Pagliacci," which it obviously seeks to outdo in

sordidness and brutality.

The failure of Wolf-Ferrari's other operas to hold the stage in

English-speaking countries disappointed many, who regarded him as next

to Puccini, the most promising contemporary Italian composer of opera.

The trouble is that the plots of his librettos are mere sketches, and

his scores delicate to the point of tenuity, so that even with good

casts, they are futile attempts to re-invoke the Spirit of Mozart

behind the mask of a half-suppressed modern orchestra.

I GIOJELLI DELLA MADONNA

(THE JEWELS OF THE MADONNA)

Opera in three acts by Wolf-Ferrari; plot by the composer,

versification by C. Zangarini and E. Golisciani. Produced in

German (Der Schmuck der Madonna), at the Kurfuersten Oper,

Berlin, December 23, 1911. Covent Garden Theatre, London,

March 30, 1912. Auditorium Theatre, Chicago, January 16,

1912; Metropolitan Opera House, New York, March 5, 1912,

both the Chicago and New York productions by the Chicago

Opera Company, conducted by Cleofonte Campanini, with

Carolina White, Louis Bérat, Bassi, and Sammares.

CHARACTERS

GENNARO, in love with _Maliella_ _Tenor_

MALIELLA, in love with _Rafaele_ _Soprano_

RAFAELE, leader of the Camorrists _Baritone_

CARMELA, _Gennaro's_ mother _Mezzo-Soprano_

BIASO _Tenor_

CICCILLO _Tenor_

STELLA _Soprano_

CONCETTA _Soprano_

SERENA _Soprano_

ROCCO _Bass_

Grazia, a dancer; Totonno, vendors, monks, populace.

_Time_--The present.

_Place_--Naples.

Act I. A small square in Naples, near the sea. _Carmela's_ house,

_Gennaro's_ smithy, an inn, and the little hut of _Biaso_, the scribe,

among many other details. "It is the gorgeous afternoon of the

festival of the Madonna, and the square swarms with a noisy crowd,

rejoicing and celebrating the event with that strange mixture of

carnival and superstition so characteristic of Southern Italy." This

describes most aptly the gay, crowded scene, and the character of the

music with which the opera opens. It is quite kaleidoscopic in its

constant shifting of interest. At last many in the crowd follow a

band, which has crossed the square.

_Gennaro_ in his blacksmith's shop is seen giving the finishing

touches to a candelabra on which he has been working. He places it on

the anvil, as on an altar, kneels before it, and sings a prayer to the

Madonna--"Madonna, con sospiri" (Madonna, tears and sighing).

_Maliella_ rushes out of the house pursued by _Carmela_. She is a

restless, wilful girl, possessed of the desire to get away from the

restraint of the household and throw herself into the life of the

city, however evil--a potential _Carmen_, from whom opportunity has as

yet been withheld. Striking an attitude of bravado, and in spite of

_Gennaro's_ protests, she voices her rebellious thoughts in the

"Canzone di Cannetella,"--"Diceva Cannetella vedendosi inserata" (Thus

sang poor Cannetella, who yearned and sighed for her freedom).

A crowd gathers to hear her. From the direction of the sea comes the

chorus of the approaching Camorrists. _Maliella_ and the crowd dance

wildly. When _Carmela_ reappears with a pitcher of water on her head,

the wayward girl is dashing along the quay screaming and laughing.

_Carmela_ tells her son the brief story of _Maliella_. _Gennaro_

languished, when an infant. _Carmela_ vowed to the Madonna to seek an

infant girl of sin begotten, and adopt her. "In the open street I

found her, and you recovered." There is a touching duet for mother and

son, in which _Carmela_ bids him go and pray to the Madonna, and

_Gennaro_ asks for her blessing, before he leaves to do so. _Carmela_

then goes into the house.

_Maliella_ runs in. The Camorrists, _Rafaele_ in the van, are in

pursuit of her. _Rafaele_, the leader of the band, is a handsome,

flashy blackguard. When he advances to seize and kiss her, she draws a

dagger-like hat pin. Laughing, he throws off his coat, like a

duellist, grasps and holds her tightly. She stabs his hand, making it

bleed, then throws away the skewer. Angry at first, he laughs

disdainfully, then passionately kisses the wound. While the other

Camorrists buy flowers from a passing flower girl and make a carpet of

them, _Rafaele_ picks up the hat pin, kneels before _Maliella_, and

hands it to her. _Maliella_ slowly replaces it in her hair, and then

_Rafaele_, her arms being uplifted, sticks a flower she had previously

refused, on her breast, where she permits it to remain. A few moments

later she plucks it out and throws it away. _Rafaele_ picks it up, and

carefully replaces it in his buttonhole. A little later he goes to the

inn, looks in her direction, and raises his filled glass to her, just

at the moment, when, although her back is toward him, a subtle

influence compels her to turn and look at him.

Tolling of bells, discharge of mortars, cheers of populace, announce

the approach of the procession of Madonna. While hymns to the Virgin

are chanted, _Rafaele_ pours words of passion into _Maliella's_ ears.

The image of the Virgin, bedecked with sparkling jewels--the jewels of

the Madonna--is borne past. _Rafaele_ asseverates that for the love of

_Maliella_ he would even rob the sacred image of the jewels and bedeck

her with them. The superstitious girl is terrified.

_Gennaro_, who returns at that moment, warns her against _Rafaele_ as

"the most notorious blackguard in this quarter," at the same time he

orders her into the house. _Rafaele's_ mocking laugh infuriates him.

The men seem about to fight. Just then the procession returns, and

they are obliged to kneel. _Rafaele's_ looks, however, follow

_Maliella_, who is very deliberately moving toward the house, her eyes

constantly turning in the Camorrist's direction. He tosses her the

flower she has previously despised. She picks it up, puts it between

her lips, and flies indoors.

Act II. The garden of _Carmela's_ house. On the left wall a wooden

staircase. Under this is a gap in the back wall shut in by a railing.

It is late evening.

_Carmela_, having cleared the table, goes into the house. _Gennaro_

starts in to warn _Maliella_. She says she will have freedom, rushes

up the staircase to her room, where she is seen putting her things

together, while she hums, "E ndringhete, ndranghete" (I long for mirth

and folly).

She descends with her bundle and is ready to leave. _Gennaro_ pleads

with her. As if lost in a reverie, with eyes half-closed, she recalls

how _Rafaele_ offered to steal the jewels of the Madonna for her.

_Gennaro_, at first shocked at the sacrilege in the mere suggestion,

appears to yield gradually to a desperate intention. He bars the way

to _Maliella_, locks the gate, and stands facing her. Laughing

derisively, she reascends the stairs.

Her laugh still ringing in his ears, no longer master of himself, he

goes to a cupboard under the stairs, takes out a box, opens it by the

light of the lamp at the table, selects from its contents several

skeleton keys and files, wraps them in a piece of leather, which he

hides under his coat, takes a look at _Maliella's_ window, crosses

himself, and sneaks out.

From the direction of the sea a chorus of men's voices is heard.

_Rafaele_ appears at the gate with his Camorrist friends. To the

accompaniment of their mandolins and guitars he sings to _Maliella_ a

lively waltzlike serenade. The girl, in a white wrapper, a light

scarlet shawl over her shoulders descends to the garden. There is a

love duet--"in a torrent of passion," according to the libretto, but

not so torrential in the score:--"T'amo, sì, t'amo" (I love you, I

love you), for _Maliella_; "Stringimi forte" (Cling fast to me) for

_Rafaele_; "Oh! strette ardenti" (Rapture enthralling) for both. She

promises that on the morrow she will join him. Then _Rafaele's_

comrades signal that someone approaches.

Left to herself, she sees in the moonlight _Gennaro's_ open tool box.

As if in answer to her presentiment of what it signifies, he appears

with a bundle wrapped in red damask. He is too distracted by his

purpose to question her presence in the garden at so late an hour and

so lightly clad. Throwing back the folds of the damask, he spreads out

on the table, for _Maliella_, the jewels of the Madonna.

_Maliella_, in an ecstacy, half mystic, half sensual, and seemingly

visioning in _Gennaro_ the image of the man who promised her the

jewels, _Rafaele_, who has set every chord of evil passion in her

nature vibrating--no longer repulses _Gennaro_, but, when, at the foot

of a blossoming orange tree, he seizes her, yields herself to his

embrace;--a scene described in the Italian libretto with a realism

that leaves no doubt as to its meaning.

Act III. A haunt of the Camorrists on the outskirts of Naples. On the

left wall is a rough fresco of the Madonna, whose image was borne in

procession the previous day. In front of it is a sort of altar.

The Camorrists gather. They are men and women, all the latter of

doubtful character. There is singing with dancing--the "Apache," the

"Tarantella." _Stella_, _Concetta_, _Serena_, and _Grazia_, the

dancer, are the principal women. They do not anticipate _Maliella's_

expected arrival with much pleasure. When _Rafaele_ comes in, they ask

him what he admires in her. In his answer, "Non sapete ... di

Maliella" (know you not of Maliella), he tells them her chief charm is

that he will be the first man to whom she has yielded herself.

In the midst of an uproar of shouting and dancing, while _Rafaele_,

standing on a table, cracks a whip, _Maliella_ rushes in. In an agony

she cries out that, in a trance, she gave herself up to _Gennaro_. The

women laugh derisively at _Rafaele_, who has just sung of her as being

inviolable to all but himself. There is not a touch of mysticism about

_Rafaele_. That she should have confused _Gennaro_ with him, and so

have yielded herself to the young blacksmith, does not appeal to him

at all. For him she is a plucked rose to be left to wither. Furiously

he rejects her, flings her to the ground. The jewels of the Madonna

fall from her cloak. They are readily recognized; for they are

depicted in the rough fresco on the wall.

_Gennaro_, who has followed her to the haunt of the Camorrists,

enters. He is half mad. _Maliella_, laughing hysterically, flings the

jewels at his feet, shrieking that he stole them for her. The crowd,

as superstitious as it is criminal, recoils from both intruders. The

women fall to their knees. _Rafaele_ curses the girl. At his command,

the band disperses. _Maliella_ goes out to drown herself in the sea.

"Madonna dei dolor! Miserere!" (Madonna of our pain, have pity), prays

_Gennaro_. His thoughts revert to his mother. "Deh non piangere, O

Mamma mia" (Ah! Weep not, beloved mother mine). Among the débris he

finds a knife and plunges it into his heart.

* * * * *

"Le Donne Curiose" (Inquisitive Women), words by Luigi Sagana, after a

comedy by Goldoni, was produced at the Hofoper, Munich, November 27,

1903, in German. It was given for the first time in Italian at the

Metropolitan Opera House, New York, January 3, 1912.

Several Venetian gentlemen, including _Ottavio_, the father of

_Rosaura_, who is betrothed to _Florindo_, have formed a club, to

which women are not admitted. The latter immediately have visions of

forbidden pleasures being indulged in by the men at the club. By

various intrigues the women manage to obtain a set of keys, and enter

the club, only to find the men enjoying themselves harmlessly at

dinner. All ends in laughter and dancing.

The principal characters are _Ottavio_, a rich Italian (_Bass_);

_Beatrice_, his wife (_Mezzo-Soprano_); _Rosaura_, his daughter

(_Soprano_); _Florindo_, betrothed to _Rosaura_ (_Tenor_);

_Pantalone_, a Venetian merchant (_Buffo-Baritone_); his friends,

_Lelio_ (_Baritone_), and _Leandro_ (_Tenor_); _Colombina_,

_Rosaura's_ maid (_Soprano_); _Eleanora_, wife to _Lelio_ (_Soprano_);

_Arlecchino_; servant to _Pantalone_ (_Buffo-Bass_). There are

servants, gondoliers, and men and women of the populace. The action is

laid in Venice in the middle of the eighteenth century. There are

three acts:

Act I, in the Friendship Club, and later in Ottavio's home; Act II, in

_Lelio's_ home; Act III, a street in Venice near the Grand Canal, and

later in the club.

In the music the club's motto, "Bandie xe le Done" (No Women Admitted)

is repeated often enough to pass for a motif. The most melodious vocal

passage is the duet for _Rosaura_ and _Florindo_ in Act II, "Il cor

nel contento" (My heart, how it leaps in rejoicing). In the first

scene of Act III a beautiful effect is produced by the composer's use

of the Venetian barcarolle, "La Biondina in Gondoletta," which often,

in the earlier days of Rossini's Opera, "Il Barbiere di Siviglia," was

introduced by prima donnas in the lesson scene.

In the Metropolitan production Farrar was _Rosaura_, Jadlowker

_Florindo_, and Scotti _Lelio_. Toscanini conducted. The rôles of

_Colombina_ and _Arlecchino_ (Harlequin) are survivals of old Italian

comedy, which Goldoni still retained in some of his plays.

* * * * *

"Il Segreto di Susanna" (The Secret of Suzanne), the scene a

drawing-room in Piedmont, time 1840, is in one act. _Countess Suzanne_

(_Soprano_) smokes cigarettes. The aroma left by the smoke leads

_Count Gil_ (_Baritone_) to suspect his wife of entertaining a lover.

He discovers her secret--and all is well. The third character, a

servant, _Sante_, is an acting part.--A musical trifle, at the

Hofoper, Munich, November 4, 1909; Metropolitan Opera House, New York,

by the Chicago Opera Company, March 14, 1911, with Carolina White and

Sammarco; Constanzi Theatre, Rome, November 27, 1911. The "book" is by

Enrico Golisciani, from the French.

* * * * *

"L'Amore Medico," Metropolitan Opera House, March 25, 1914, is another

typical bit of Wolf-Ferrari musical bric-a-brac--slight, charming, and

quite unable to hold its own in the hurly-burly of modern _verismo_. A

girl is lovesick. Her father, who does not want her ever to leave him,

thinks her ailment physical, and vainly summons four noted physicians.

Then the clever maid brings in the girl's lover disguised as a doctor.

He diagnoses the case as love-hallucination, and suggests as a remedy

a mock marriage, with himself as bridegroom. The father consents, and

an actual marriage takes place.

The scene of "L'Amore Medico" (Doctor Cupid), words by Golisciani

after Molière's "L'Amour Médecin," is a villa near Paris, about 1665

(Louis XIV). The characters are _Arnolfo_, a rich, elderly landowner

(_Bass_); _Lucinda_, his daughter (_Soprano_); _Clitandro_, a young

cavalier, (_Tenor_); _Drs. Tomes_ (_Bass_); _Desfonandres_ (_Bass_);

_Macroton_ (_Baritone_); _Bahis_ (_Tenor_); _Lisetta_, _Lucinda's_

maid (_Soprano_); _Notary_ (_Bass_). There also are servants, peasants

and peasant girls, musicians, dancing girls, etc. The work is in two

acts, the scene of the first the villa garden; of the second a

handsome interior of the villa. The original production, in German,

was at the Dresden Royal Opera House, December 4, 1913.

Umberto Giordano

Umberto Giordano was born at Foggia, August 26, 1867. Paolo Serrão was

his teacher in music at the Naples Conservatory. With a one-act opera,

"Marina," he competed for the Sonzogno prize, which Mascagni won with

"Cavalleria Rusticana." "Marina," however, secured for him a

commission for the three-act opera, "Mala Vita," Rome, 1892. Then

followed the operas which have been noticed above.

MADAME SANS-GÊNE

Opera in four acts by Umberto Giordano, words by Renato

Simoni after the play by Victorien Sardou and E. Moreau.

Produced, for the first time on any stage, Metropolitan

Opera House, New York January 25, 1915, with Farrar as

_Catherine_, and Amato as _Napoleon_.

CHARACTERS

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE _Baritone_

LEFEBVRE, sergeant of the National Guards,

later a Marshal of France and Duke

of Danzig _Tenor_

FOUCHÉ, officer of the National Guards,

later Minister of Police _Baritone_

COUNT DE NEIPPERG _Tenor_

VINAIGRE, drummer boy _Tenor_

DESPRÉAUX, dancing master _Tenor_

GELSOMINO, page _Baritone_

LEROY, tailor _Baritone_

DE BRIGODE, chamberlain _Baritone_

ROUSTAN, head of the Mamelukes _Baritone_

CATHERINE HUEBSCHER, "Madame Sans-Gêne,"

laundress; later Duchess of Danzig _Soprano_

TOINETTE } { _Soprano_

JULIA } laundresses { _Soprano_

LA ROSSA } { _Soprano_

QUEEN CAROLINE } sisters of { _Soprano_

PRINCESS ELISA } NAPOLEON { _Soprano_

LADY DE BÜLOW, matron of honour to

the Empress _Soprano_

_Maturino_, _Constant_ (valet to _Napoleon_), the voice of

the Empress, citizens, shopkeepers, villagers, soldiers,

ladies of the court, officials, diplomats, academicians,

hunters, pages, and two Mamelukes.

_Time_--August 10, 1792; and September, 1811.

_Place_--Paris.

"Madame Sans-Gêne" is an opera that maintains itself in the repertoire

largely because of the play that underlies it. The title rôle is

delightful. It has been among the successes of several clever

actresses, including Ellen Terry, to whose _Catherine_ Henry Irving

was the _Napoleon_. Its creator in the opera was Geraldine Farrar, to

whose vivacity in interesting the character, far more than to the

musical merit of the work itself, is due the fact that the opera has

not dropped out of the repertoire. In point of fact the same

composer's "André Chénier" is of greater musical interest, but the

leading character does not offer the same scope for acting, which

accounts for its having dropped almost entirely out of the repertoire

in America.

In "Madame Sans-Gêne," _Catherine_ (in the Italian libretto

_Caterina_) is a laundress. The first act opens in her laundry in

Paris during the French Revolution. The nickname of Madame Sans-Gêne,

usually translated Madame Free-and-Easy, is given her because of her

vivacity, originality, straightforwardness in speech, and charm.

Discharge of cannon and other sounds indicate that fighting is going

on in the streets. Three women employed by _Catherine_ are at work in

the laundry. _Catherine_ comes in from the street. She tells of her

adventures with a lot of rough soldiers. She does this amazingly, but

her experience has cured her of her curiosity to see what is going on

outside. There is a scene between _Catherine_ and _Fouché_, a

time-server, waiting to observe how matters go, before he decides

whether to cast his fortunes with the Royalists or the people. They

gossip about a Corsican officer, who owes _Catherine_ for laundry, but

is so poor he has been obliged to pawn his watch for bread.

Nevertheless, the good-hearted, lively _Madame Sans-Gêne_ continues to

do his laundry work for him, and trusts to the future for the bill.

_Catherine_ is left alone. Rifle shots are heard. _Count Neipperg_, a

wounded Austrian officer of the Queen's suite, comes in and asks to be

hidden. Although she is of the people, _Catherine_ hides him in her

own room. His pursuers enter. It chances they are led by _Catherine's_

betrothed, _Sergeant Lefebvre_. For a while _Catherine_ diverts the

squad from its purpose by offering wine. _Lefebvre_ uncorks the

bottle, meanwhile giving a lively description of the sacking of the

Tuilleries. There is a scene of affection between him and _Catherine_.

He notices that his hands are black with powder and, intending to wash

them in _Catherine's_ room, becomes violently suspicious on finding

the door locked. He wrenches the key from her, unlocks the door,

enters the room. _Catherine_, expecting every moment to hear him

despatching the wounded man stops up her ears. _Lefebvre_ comes out

quietly. He tells her the man in her room is dead. As she is not at

all excited, but merely surprised, he knows that he has no cause to

suspect that the wounded man is her lover. He will help her to save

him. _Catherine_ throws herself into his arms. There are sounds of

drums and of marching and shouting in the street. _Lefebvre_ leads out

his squad.

Like most modern composers who do not possess the gift for sustained

melody, Giordano would make up for it by great skill in the handling

of his orchestra and constant depiction of the varying phases of the

action. There is considerable opportunity for a display of this talent

in the first act of "Madame Sans-Gêne," and the composer has furnished

a musical background, in which the colours are laid on in short,

quick, and crisp strokes. "The Marseillaise" is introduced as soldiers

and mob surge past _Catherine's_ laundry.

Act II. The drawing-room of the Château de Compiègne. The Empire has

been established. _Lefebvre_ is a Marshal and has been created Duke of

Danzig. _Catherine_ is his duchess. She scandalizes the court with her

frequent breaches of etiquette.

[Illustration: Photo by White

Farrar as Catherine in "Mme. Sans-Gêne"]

When the act opens _Despréaux_, the dancing master, _Gelsomino_, the

valet, and _Leroy_, the ladies' tailor, are engaged in passing

criticisms upon her. She enters, is as unconventional as ever, and

amusingly awkward, when she tries on the court train, or is being

taught by _Despréaux_ how to deport herself, when she receives the

Emperor's sisters, whom she is expecting. _Lefebvre_ comes in like a

thunder cloud. _Napoleon_, he tells her, has heard how she has

scandalized the court by her conduct and has intimated that he wishes

him to divorce her. There is a charming scene--perhaps the most

melodious in the opera--between the couple who love each other

sincerely. _Neipperg_, who now is Austrian Ambassador, comes upon the

scene to bid his old friends good-bye. _Napoleon_ suspects that there

is an intrigue between him and the Empress, and has had him recalled.

_Fouché_, Minister of Police, announces _Napoleon's_ sisters--_Queen

Carolina_ and _Princess Elisa_. _Catherine's_ court train bothers her.

She is unrestrained in her language. The royal ladies and their suite

at first laugh contemptuously, then as _Catherine_, in her resentment,

recalls to _Carolina_ that _King Murat_, her husband, once was a

waiter in a tavern, the scene becomes one of growing mutual

recrimination, until, to the measures of "The Marseillaise,"

_Catherine_ begins to recount her services to _Napoleon's_ army as

_Cantinière_. Enraged, the royal ladies and their suite leave. _De

Brigode_, the court chamberlain, summons _Catherine_ to the presence

of the _Emperor_. Not at all disconcerted, she salutes in military

fashion the men who have remained behind, and follows _De Brigode_.

Act III. Cabinet of the _Emperor_. There is a brief scene between

_Napoleon_ and his sisters, to whom he announces that there is to be a

hunt at dawn, at which he desires their presence. They withdraw;

_Catherine_ is announced.

_Napoleon_ brusquely attacks her for her behaviour. She recalls his

own humble origin, tells of her services to the army, and of the wound

in the arm she received on the battlefield, maintains that his sisters

in insulting her also insulted his army, and, as a climax draws out a

bit of yellow paper--a laundry bill he still owes her, for he was the

impecunious young lieutenant mentioned in the first act. With much

chicness she even tells him that, when she delivered his laundry, she

tried to attract his attention, but he was always too absorbed in

study to take notice of her, and make love to her.

The _Emperor_ is charmed. He kisses the scar left by the wound on her

arm. _Catherine_, bowing, exclaims, "The Emperor owes me nothing

more!"

_Catherine_ is about to go, _Napoleon_ ordering for her the escort of

an officer, when _Neipperg_ is apprehended, as he is approaching the

_Empress's_ door. Infuriated, _Napoleon_ tears the string of medals

from the Ambassador's breast and appears about to strike him in the

face with it. _Neipperg_ draws his sword. Officers rush in. _Napoleon_

orders that he be shot ere dawn, and that _Fouché_ and _Lefebvre_ have

charge of the execution.

Act IV. The scene is the same, but it is far into the night. The

candles are burning low, the fire is dying out, _Catherine_ and

_Lefebvre_ have a brief scene in which they deplore that they are

powerless to prevent _Neipperg's_ execution. _Catherine_ cannot even

inform the _Empress_ and possibly obtain her intervention, for her

door, at _Napoleon's_ command, is guarded by _Roustan_.

But _Napoleon_, when he comes in, is sufficiently impressed by

_Catherine's_ faith in the _Empress's_ loyalty to put it to the test.

At his direction, she knocks at the _Empress's_ door, and pretending

to be her Matron of Honour, Mme. de Bülow, says, "Majesty, Neipperg is

here." The _Empress_ passes out a letter. "Give this to him--and my

farewell." _Napoleon_ takes the letter, breaks the seal. The letter is

to the _Empress's_ father, the Emperor of Austria, whom she asks to

entertain _Neipperg_ in Vienna as his assiduity troubles her and the

_Emperor_. _Napoleon_ orders _Fouché_ to restore _Neipperg's_ sword

and let him depart.

"As for your divorce," he says to _Lefebvre_, with a savage look, "My

wish is this"--playfully he tweaks _Catherine_ by the ear. "Hold her

for ever true. Give thanks to heaven for giving her to you."

Hunting-horns and the chorus of hunters are heard outside.

ANDRÉ CHÉNIER

"André Chénier" was produced at La Scala, Milan, March 23, 1896. It

was given in London, in English, April 26, 1903. Long before that,

November 13, 1896, New York heard it at the Academy of Music, under

Mapleson. It had a single performance, under the management of Oscar

Hammerstein, at the Manhattan Opera House in 1908, and eight years

later was given by, and endured through the season of, the

Boston-National Opera Company, both in Boston and on tour.

Historical as a character though André Chénier be, Giordano's

librettist, Luigi Illica, has turned his life into fiction. Chénier

was a poet, dreamer, and patriot. Born at Constantinople, he went to

Paris for his education. Later he became a participant in and victim

of the French Revolution.

CHARACTERS

ANDRÉ CHÉNIER _Tenor_

CHARLES GÉRARD _Baritone_

COUNTESS DE COIGNY _Soprano_

MADELEINE, her daughter _Soprano_

BERSI, her maid _Mezzo-Soprano_

ROUCHER _Bass_

MATHIEU _Baritone_

MADELON _Soprano_

FLÉVILLE _Tenor_

THE ABBÉ _Tenor_

SCHMIDT, jailer at St. Lazare _Bass_

A SPY _Tenor_

[Transcriber's Note: "Tenor" missing in original]

Guests at ball, servants, pages, peasants, soldiers of the

Republic, masqueraders, judges, jurymen, prisoners, mob,

etc.

_Time_--Just prior to and during the French Revolution.

_Place_--Paris.

Act I. Ballroom in a château. _Gérard_, a servant, but also a

revolutionist, is secretly in love with _Madeleine_, the _Countess's_

daughter. Among the guests at a ball is _André Chénier_, a poet with

revolutionary tendencies. _Madeleine_ asks him to improvise a poem on

love. Instead, he sings of the wrongs of the poor. _Gérard_ appears

with a crowd of ragged men and women, but at the _Countess's_ command

servants force the intruders out. _Chénier_ and _Madeleine_, the

latter weary of the routine of fashion, have been attracted to each

other.

Act II. Café Hottot in Paris, several years later. _Chénier_ has

offended the Revolutionists by denouncing Robespierre. A spy is

watching _Bersi_, _Madeleine's_ old nurse, and sees her hand _Chénier_

a letter. It is from _Madeleine_. She loves him. She is dogged by

spies, begs him come to her aid, and arranges a meeting.

Robespierre passes, followed by a mob. _Gérard_, now high in favour,

seeks to possess _Madeleine_, who comes to meet the poet. They are

about to flee, when _Gérard_, notified by the spy, interposes.

_Chénier_ and _Gérard_ fight with swords. _Gérard_ is wounded. The

lovers escape.

Act III. Revolutionary Tribunal. The crowd sings the "Carmagnole."

_Chénier_ has been captured. _Gérard_ writes the indictment for his

rival. _Madeleine_ pleads for her lover, finally promising to give

herself to _Gérard_ if _Chénier_ is spared. _Gérard_, moved by the

girl's love, agrees to save _Chénier_ if he can. At the trial he

declares that the indictment against _Chénier_ is false. But the mob,

thirsting for more blood, demands the poet's death.

Act IV. Prison of Lazare at midnight. _Madeleine_ enters to _Chénier_

with _Gérard_. She has bribed the _jailer_ to allow her to substitute

for another woman prisoner. If she cannot live for her lover, she can,

at least, die with him. Together she and _Chénier_ go to the scaffold.

* * * * *

Two other operas by Giordano have been heard in America--"Fedora,"

after Sardou, Metropolitan Opera House, December 16, 1906, with

Cavalieri and Caruso; and "Siberia," Manhattan Opera House, February

5, 1908. They have not lasted.

Modern Italian Opera

ERO E LEANDRO

Opera in three acts by Luigi Mancinelli; libretto by Arrigo Boïto.

First produced in America at the Metropolitan Opera House, March 10,

1899, with the composer conducting and the following cast: _Hero_,

Mme. Eames; _Leandro_, Saléza, and Plançon as _Ariofarno_.

In the first act the lovers meet at a festival. _Leandro_, victor in

the Aphrodisian games both as a swordsman and cytharist, is crowned by

_Hero_. He sings two odes borrowed from Anacreon. _Ariofarno_, the

archon, loves _Hero_. When he seeks to turn her from her sacred

mission as priestess of Aphrodite she spurns his love. She invokes an

omen from a sea shell, on the altar of the goddess, and hears in it

rushing waters and the surging sea, that will eventually turn her

romance to tragedy. When she kneels before the statue of Apollo and

pleads to know her fate, _Ariofarno_, concealed, answers: "Death."

The second act takes place in the temple of Aphrodite. The archon

claims that he has been warned by the oracle to reinstate a service in

a town by the sea. He consecrates _Hero_ to the duty of giving warning

of approaching storms, so that the raging waters may be appeased by

priestly ritual. He offers to release her from this task if she will

return his love. When she again spurns him, _Leandro_ attempts to

attack him. For this, the young man is banished to the shores of Asia,

while _Hero_ sadly pledges herself to the new service.

In the third act _Leandro_ has performed his famous swimming feat.

The lovers sing their ecstasy. Meanwhile a storm arises unobserved.

The trumpet that should have been sounded by _Hero_ is sounded from

the vaults beneath the tower. _Leandro_ throws himself into the

Hellespont while _Ariofarno_ and his priests chide _Hero_ for her

neglect as they discover its cause. A thunderbolt shatters a portion

of the tower wall and _Leandro's_ body is disclosed. _Hero_ falls

dying to the ground, while the archon rages.

CONCHITA

Opera in four acts by Riccardo Zandonai; text by Vaucaire

and Zangarini, based on Pierre Louÿs's "La Femme et le

Pantin" (The Woman and the Puppet). Produced, Milan, 1911.

CHARACTERS

CONCHITA _Soprano_

MATEO _Tenor_

CONCHITA'S MOTHER _Mezzo-Soprano_

RUFINA _Mezzo-Soprano_

ESTELLA _Mezzo-Soprano_

THE SUPERINTENDENT _Mezzo-Soprano_

THE INSPECTOR _Bass_

GARCIA, Dance Hall Proprietor _Bass_

TONIO, waiter _Bass_

Various characters in a cigar factory, a dance hall, and a

street. Distant voices.

_Time_--The Present.

_Place_--Seville.

Act I. In a cigar factory. Among the visitors _Conchita_, one of the

cigar girls, recognizes _Mateo_, a wealthy Spaniard, who rescued her

from the forced attentions of a policeman. She invites _Mateo_ to her

home. The girl's mother, delighted that her daughter has attracted a

wealthy man, goes out to make some purchases. Love scene for _Mateo_

and _Conchita_. The mother returns, and, unseen by _Conchita_, _Mateo_

gives her money. When _Mateo_ leaves, and _Conchita_ discovers he has

given her mother money, she is furious and vows never to see _Mateo_

again, because she thinks he has endeavoured to purchase her love. In

her anger she leaves her home.

Act II. A dance hall, where _Conchita_ earns a living by her risqué

dances. _Mateo_, who finds her after a long search, is astounded. He

begs her to go away with him. She refuses, and executes a most daring

dance for a group of visitors. _Mateo_, watching her from outside, and

wild with jealousy, breaks through the window. _Conchita_, angry at

first, takes from him the key to a little house he owns and tells him

that, if he comes at midnight, she will open her lattice to him as to

a mysterious lover.

Act III. A street in Seville. _Mateo_ stands before the house. But

instead of admitting him, when he pleads his love, she turns and

calls, as if to someone within, "Morenito!"--the name of a man he saw

her dancing with at the dance hall. _Mateo_ tries to break into the

house. _Conchita_ taunts him. He staggers away.

Act IV. _Mateo_ is desperate. _Conchita_ comes to his home and says

she certainly expected him to kill himself for love of her. Enraged,

he seizes her. She tries to stab him. He beats her without mercy. At

last--and it seems about time--_Conchita_ now sees how desperately he

must love her. She declares that she has loved him all the time. He

takes her, radiant, into his arms.

CRISTOFORO COLOMBO

Opera in three acts and an epilogue, by Alberto Franchetti,

text by Luigi Illica. Produced, Genoa, 1892; in revised

version, same year, at La Scala, Milan. Metropolitan Opera

House, Philadelphia, November 20, 1913, with Titta Ruffo.

CHARACTERS

CRISTOFORO COLOMBO _Baritone_

QUEEN ISABELLA OF SPAIN _Soprano_

DON FERNANDO GUEVARA, Captain of the

Royal Guards _Tenor_

DON ROLDANO XIMENES, Spanish Knight _Bass_

MATHEOS, Foreman of the Crew _Tenor_

ANACOANA, Indian Queen _Mezzo-Soprano_

IGUAMOTA, her daughter _Soprano_

BOBADILLA, False Messenger of the

King of Spain _Bass_

_Time_--Before, during, and soon after Columbus's voyage of

discovery.

_Place_--Spain and America.

In act first, on the square in Salamanca, _Colombo_ learns that the

council has rejected his plans. In the convent of San Stefano _Queen

Isabella_ is praying. _Colombo_ tells her of the council's acts. She

promises him the ships. In act second, on the _Santa Maria_, the

sailors mutiny. At the critical moment _Colombo_ points to a distant

shore. In act three, _Roldano_, an enemy to _Colombo_, has slain an

Indian king. The Indian queen, _Anacoana_, pretends to love her

husband's slayer, hoping for opportunity to avenge his death. But an

Indian uprising is quelled and _Bobadilla_, a false messenger arriving

from Spain, announces that _Colombo_ has been deposed from authority,

and _Roldano_ been made viceroy in his stead.

The epilogue shows the royal tombs of Spain. _Colombo_--the librettist

here stretching historical license--learning that _Queen Isabella_ has

died and is buried here, expires upon her tomb.

CRISPINO E LA COMARE

(THE COBBLER AND THE FAIRY)

Opera "Bouffe" in three acts by Luigi and Federico Ricci;

text by Francesco Maria Piave. Produced, Venice, 1850.

CHARACTERS

CRISPINO, a cobbler _Baritone_

ANNETTA, his wife, a ballad singer _Soprano_

COUNT DEL FIORE _Tenor_

FABRIZIO, a physician _Bass_

MIRABOLANO, an apothecary _Tenor_

DON ASDRUBALE, a miser _Bass_

LA COMARE, a fairy _Mezzo-Soprano_

BORTOLO, a mason _Bass_

LISETTA, ward of DON ASDRUBALE _Soprano_

Doctors, Scholars, Citizens.

_Place_--Venice.

_Time_--Seventeenth Century.

Act I. _Crispino_, the cobbler, and _Annetta_, his wife, the ballad

singer, are in sore straits. _Don Asdrubale_, their landlord, who is a

miser, is about to put them out for non-payment of rent, but hints

that if _Annetta_ will respond to his suit he may reconsider.

_Crispino_, in desperation, runs away, and is followed by _Annetta_.

He is about to drown himself in a well when a fairy appears to him.

She predicts that he will be a famous doctor. _Crispino_ and _Annetta_

rejoice.

Act II. _Crispino_ nails up a physician's sign. The neighbours rail,

but soon a mason is brought in severely hurt, and, though the doctors

fail to bring him around, _Crispino_ cures him.

Act III. _Crispino_, overbearing since his good fortune, has built a

fine house. He ignores former friends and even is unkind to _Annetta_.

He even berates the _Fairy_. Suddenly he is in a cavern. The _Fairy's_

head has turned into a skull. She has become Death. Humbled, he begs

for another glimpse of _Annetta_ and the children. He awakes to find

himself with them and to hear a joyous song from _Annetta_.

LORELEY

Alfred Catalani's "Loreley" was presented by the Chicago Opera Company

for the first time in New York, at the Lexington Theatre, on Thursday

evening, February 13, 1919, with Anna Fitziu, Florence Macbeth,

Virgilio Lazzari, Alessandro Dolci, and Giacomo Rimini. The

librettists are Messrs. D'Ormeville and Zanardini.

The legendary siren who sits combing her hair on a rock in the

traditional manner, is in this opera the reincarnated spirit of a

young orphan, who has been jilted by her fiancé, _Walter_, Lord of

Oberwessel. When the faithless young man is about to marry another

beautiful maiden, _Anna_, _Loreley_ casts her spell upon him, and

_Anna_, too, is thrown over. _Walter_ follows _Loreley_ to a watery

grave, and _Anna_ dies of grief.

FEDORA

Opera in three acts, by Umberto Giordano; text, after the

Sardou drama, by Colautti. Produced, Milan, 1898.

CHARACTERS

PRINCESS FEDORA _Soprano_

COUNT LORIS _Tenor_

COUNTESS OLGA _Soprano_

DE SIRIEX, a diplomat _Baritone_

GRECH, a police officer _Bass_

DMITRI, a groom _Contralto_

CYRIL, a coachman _Baritone_

BOROV, a doctor _Baritone_

BARON ROUVEL _Baritone_

_Time_--Present.

_Place_--Paris and Switzerland.

Act I. Home of _Count Vladimir_, St. Petersburg. While the beautiful

_Princess Fedora_ awaits the coming of her betrothed, _Count

Vladimir_, he is brought in, by _De Siriex_, mortally wounded.

Suspicion for the murder falls upon _Count Loris_. _Fedora_ takes a

Byzantine jewelled cross from her breast and swears by it to avenge

her betrothed.

Act II. Salon of _Fedora_ in Paris. _Loris_ is entertained by her. She

uses all her arts of fascination in hope of securing proof of his

guilt. He falls desperately in love with her, and she succeeds in

drawing from him a confession of the murder. _Grech_, a police

officer, plans to take _Loris_ after all the guests have left. Then,

however, _Loris_ tells her further that he killed the _Count_ because

he betrayed his young wife and brought about her untimely death.

_Fedora_, who herself has fallen in love with _Loris_, now takes him

into her arms. But the trap is ready to be sprung. She is, however,

able to escape with him.

Act III. Switzerland. _Loris_ and _Fedora_ are married. _Loris's_

footsteps, however, are followed by a spy. _Fedora_ learns that

because of _Loris's_ act his brother has been thrown into prison and

has died there. _Loris's_ mother has died of shock. He discovers that

it was _Fedora_ who set the secret service on his track. He is about

to kill her when, in despair, she swallows poison. _Loris_ now pleads

with her to live, but it is too late. She dies in his arms.

GERMANIA

Opera in a prologue, two acts and an epilogue, by Alberto

Franchetti; text by Luigi Illica. Produced, Milan, March 11,

1902; in this country, January 22, 1910.

CHARACTERS

FREDERICK LOEWE, member of the brotherhood _Tenor_

CARL WORMS, member of the brotherhood _Baritone_

GIOVANNI PALM, member of the brotherhood _Bass_

CRISOGONO, member of the brotherhood _Baritone_

STAPPS, Protestant priest _Bass_

RICKE, a Nuremberg maiden _Soprano_

JANE, her sister _Mezzo-Soprano_

LENA ARMUTH, a peasant woman _Mezzo-Soprano_

JEBBEL, her nephew _Soprano_

LUIGI LÜTZOW, an officer _Bass_

CARLO KÖRNER, an officer _Tenor_

PETERS, a herdsman _Bass_

SIGNORA HEDVIGE _Mezzo-Soprano_

CHIEF OF POLICE _Bass_

_Time_--Napoleonic Wars.

_Place_--Germany.

Prologue. An Old Mill near Nuremberg. Students under _Palm_ are

shipping out in grain-bags literature directed against the

invader--Napoleon. _Ricke_ tells _Worms_, whose mistress she has been,

that her sweetheart, the poet _Loewe_, will soon return, and that she

must confess to him her guilty secret. _Worms_ dissuades her. _Loewe_

arrives and is joyously welcomed by his comrades. The police break in,

arrest _Palm_, and take him off to be executed.

Act I. A Hut in the Black Forest. Seven years are supposed to have

passed. _Loewe_, his aged mother, and _Ricke_ and _Jane_ have found

refuge here from the victorious troops of Napoleon. _Worms_ is thought

to be dead. _Loewe_ is to be married to _Ricke_. But suddenly the

voice of _Worms_ is heard in the forest. _Loewe_ joyously meets his

old friend, who, however, is much disconcerted at the sight of

_Ricke_, and goes away. _Ricke_ flees from her husband, who concludes

that she has fled with _Worms_.

Act II. Secret Cellar at Koenigsberg. _Worms_ and others plot to

overthrow Napoleon. _Loewe_ challenges _Worms_ to a duel. _Worms_,

penitent, asks _Loewe_ to kill him. But the preparations are stayed by

_Queen Louise_. She declares they should be fighting against Napoleon,

not against each other.

Epilogue. Battlefield of Leipzig. Napoleon has been defeated. The

great field is strewn with dead and dying. Among the latter, _Ricke_,

still loving _Loewe_, finds him. He asks her to forgive _Worms_, who

lies dead. She forgives the dead man, then lies down beside her dying

husband. Distant view of the retreat of Napoleon's shattered legions.

Modern French Opera

The contemporaries and successors of Bizet wrote many

charming operas that for years have given pleasure to large

audiences. French opera has had generous representation in

New York. Offenbach's "Tales of Hoffmann," Delibes's

"Lakmé," Saint-Saëns's "Samson et Dalila," Massenet's

"Manon" are among the most distinguished works of this

school.

"Les Contes d'Hoffmann"; a fanciful opera in four acts; words by MM.

Michel Carré and Jules Barbier; posthumous music by Jacques Offenbach,

produced at the Opéra Comique on February 10, 1881. "Les Contes

d'Hoffmann" had been played thirty years before, on March 31, 1851, at

the Odéon, in the shape of a comedy. Such as it was designed to be,

the work offers an excellent frame for the music, bringing on the

stage in their fantastic form three of the prettiest tales of the

German story-teller, connected with each other in an ingenious

fashion, with the contrasts which present themselves. Lyrical

adaptation therefore appeared quite natural and it was done with much

taste. Offenbach had almost entirely finished its music when death

came to surprise him. At the same time he had not put his score into

orchestral form and it was Ernest Girard who was charged with

finishing this and writing the instrumentation, which it was easy to

perceive at hearing it, Girard being a musician taught differently

from the author of the "Belle Hélène" and "Orphée aux Enfers." It is

right to say that several passages of the Contes d'Hoffmann were

welcome and testify to a real effort by the composer. If to that be

added the interest that the libretto offers and the excellence of an

interpretation entrusted to Mlle. Adèle Isaac (_Stella_, _Olympia_,

_Antonia_), to MM. Talazac (_Hoffmann_), Taskin (_Lindorf_,

_Coppélius_, _Dr. Miracle_), Belhomme (_Crespel_), Grivot (_Andrès_,

_Cochenille_, _Frantz_), Gourdon (_Spalanzani_), Collin (_Wilhelm_),

Mlles. Marguerite Ugalde (_Nicklausse_), Molé (_the nurse_), one will

understand the success which greeted the work. The Contes d'Hoffmann

was reproduced in 1893 at the Renaissance, during the transient

directorship of M. Détroyat, who gave to this theatre the title of

Théâtre Lyrique.

LAKMÉ

Opera in three acts by Delibes; libretto by Gille and Gondinet.

[Illustration: Photo copyright, 1916, by Victor Georg

Galli-Curci as Lakmé]

_Lakmé_ is the daughter of _Nilakantha_, a fanatical Brahmin priest.

While he nurses his hatred of the British invader, his daughter

strolls in her garden, singing duets with her slave _Mallika_. An

English officer, one _Gerald_, breaks through the bambou fence that

surrounds _Nilakantha's_ retreat, in a ruined temple in the depths of

an Indian forest. He courts _Lakmé_ who immediately returns his love.

_Nilakantha_ seeing the broken fence at once suspects an English

invader. In act two the old man disguised as a beggar is armed with a

dagger. _Lakmé_ is disguised as a street singer. Together they search

for the profaner of the sacred spot at a market. It is here that she

sings the famous Bell Song. _Gerald_ recognizes _Lakmé_ as

_Nilakantha_ recognizes the disturber of his peace. A dagger thrust

lays _Gerald_ low. _Lakmé_ and her slave carry him to a hut hidden in

the forest. During his convalescence the time passes pleasantly. The

lovers sing duets and exchange vows of undying love. But _Frederick_,

a brother officer and a slave to duty, informs _Gerald_ that he must

march with his regiment. _Lakmé_ makes the best of the situation by

eating a poisonous flower which brings about her death.

The story is based by Gondinet and Gille upon "Le Mariage de Loti."

_Ellen_, _Rose_, and _Mrs. Benson_, Englishwomen, hover in the

background of the romance. But their parts are of negligible

importance, and in fact when Miss Van Zandt and a French Company first

gave the opera in London they were omitted altogether, some said

wisely. The opera was first presented in Paris at the Opéra Comique

with Miss Van Zandt. It was first sung in New York by the American

Opera Company at the Academy of Music, March 1, 1886. The first

_Lakmé_ to be heard in New York was Pauline L'Allemand, the second

Adelina Patti, this time in 1890 and at the Metropolitan Opera House.

Mme. Sembrich and Luisa Tetrazzini sang it later.

SAMSON ET DALILA

Opera in three acts and four scenes. Music by Saint-Saëns;

text by Ferdinand Lemaire. Produced: Weimar, December 2,

1877.

CHARACTERS

DALILA _Mezzo-Soprano_

SAMSON _Tenor_

HIGH PRIEST OF DAGON _Baritone_

ABIMELECH, satrap of Gaza _Bass_

AN OLD HEBREW _Bass_

THE PHILISTINES' WAR MESSENGER _Tenor_

_Place_--Gaza.

_Time_--1136 B.C.

Act I. Before the curtain rises we hear of the Philistines at Gaza

forcing the Israelites to work. When the curtain is raised we see in

the background the temple of Dagon, god of the Philistines. With the

lamentations of the Jews is mixed the bitter scorn of _Abimelech_. But

_Samson_ has not yet expressed a hope of conquering. His

drink-inspired songs agitate his fellow countrymen so much that it

now amounts to an insurrection. _Samson_ slays _Abimelech_ with the

sword he has snatched from him and Israel's champion starts out to

complete the work. _Dagon's_ high priest may curse, the Philistines

are not able to offer resistance to the onslaught of the enemy.

Already the Hebrews are rejoicing and gratefully praise God when there

appear the Philistines' most seductive maidens, _Dalila_ at their

head, to do homage to the victorious _Samson_. Of what use is the

warning of an old Hebrew? The memory of the love which she gave him

when "the sun laughed, the spring awoke and kissed the ground," the

sight of her ensnaring beauty, the tempting dances ensnare the

champion anew.

Act II. The beautiful seductress tarries in the house of her victim.

Yes, her victim. She had never loved the enemy of her country. She

hates him since he left her. And so the exhortation of the high priest

to revenge is not needed. _Samson_ has never yet told her on what his

superhuman strength depends. Now the champion comes, torn by

irresolute reproaches. He is only going to say farewell to her. Her

allurements in vain entice him, he does not disclose his secret. But

he will not suffer her scorn and derision; overcome, he pushes her

into the chamber of love. And there destiny is fulfilled. _Dalila's_

cry of triumph summons the Philistines. Deprived of his hair, the

betrayed champion is overcome.

[Illustration: Copyright photo by White

Caruso as Samson in "Samson and Dalila"]

Act III. In a dungeon the blinded giant languishes. But more

tormenting than the corporal disgrace or the laments of his companions

are the reproaches in his own breast. Now the doors rattle. _Beadles_

come in to drag him to the Philistines' celebration of their

victory--(change of scene). In _Dagon's_ temple the Philistine people

are rejoicing. Bitter scorn is poured forth on _Samson_ whom the high

priest insultingly invites to sing a love-song to _Dalila_. The false

woman herself mocks the powerless man. But _Samson_ prays to his God.

Only once again may he have strength. And while the intoxication of

the festival seizes on everybody, he lets himself be led between the

two pillars which support the temple. He clasps them. A terrible

crash--the fragments of the temple with a roar bury the Philistine

people and their conqueror.

LE ROI D'YS

Opera by Lalo, produced at the Opéra Comique in 1888, and given in

London in 1901. The story is founded upon a Breton legend. _Margared_

and _Rozenn_, daughters of the King of Ys, love _Mylio_. But the

warrior has only eyes for _Rozenn_. In revenge _Margared_ betrays her

father's city to _Karnac_, a defeated enemy. To him she gives the keys

of the sluices which stand between the town and the sea. When the town

and all its inhabitants are about to be swept away, the girl in

remorse throws herself into the sea. St. Corentin, patron saint of Ys,

accepts her sacrifice and the sea abates.

GRISÉLIDIS

Massenet's "Grisélidis," a lyric tale in three acts and a prologue,

poem by Armand Silvestre and Eugène Morand based on the "Mystery" in

free verse by the same authors, produced at the Comédie-Française,

Paris, May 15, 1891, was given for the first time in America, January

19, 1910, at the Manhattan Opera House, New York. The story of the

patient _Griselda_ has been handed down to posterity by Boccaccio in

the Decameron, 10th day, 10th novel, and by Chaucer, who learned it,

he said from Petrarch at Padua, and then put it into the mouth of the

Clerk of Oxenforde.

[Illustration: Copyright photo by Mishkin

Mary Garden as Grisélidis]

The old ballad of "Patient Grissell" begins thus:

A noble marquess

As he did ride a-hunting,

Hard by a forest side,

A fair and comely maiden,

As she did sit a-spinning,

His gentle eye espied.

Most fair and lovely

And was of comely grace was she,

Although in simple attire,

She sang most sweetly,

With pleasant voice melodiously,

Which set the lord's heart on fire.

An English drama, "Patient Grissel," was entered at Stationers' Hall

in 1599. The word "Grizel," the proverbial type of a meek and patient

wife, crept into the English language through this story. Chaucer

wrote:

No wedded man so hardy be tassaille

His wyves patience, in hope to fynde

Grisildes, for in certain he shall fail.

Several operas on this subject were written before Massenet's, but the

ballet "Griseldis: Les Cinq Sens" by Adam (Paris, 1848), has another

story. So too has Flotow's comic opera, "Griselda, l'esclave du

Camoens."

Silvestre and Morand represented _Griselda_ as tempted by _Satan_ in

person that he might win a wager made with the marquis. When the

"Mystery" was given in 1891 the cast included Miss Bartet as

_Griseldis_; Coquelin cadet as _Le Diable_; Silvain as the _Marquis de

Saluce_ and A. Lambert, fils, as _Alain_. It was played at fifty-one

consecutive performances. According to Mr. Destranges, Bizet wrote

music for a "Grisélidis" with a libretto by Sardou, but most of this

was destroyed. Only one air is extant, that is the air sung by Micaela

in "Carmen." According to the same authority Massenet's score lay "En

magasin" for nearly ten years. Thus the music antedated that of

"Thaïs" (1894), "La Navarraise" (1894), "Sapho" (1897), "Cendrillon"

(1899), and it was not performed until 1901.

"Grisélidis" was produced at the Opéra Comique, Paris, November 20,

1901, with Lucienne Bréval, Lucien Fugère, Messrs. Maréchal and

Dufranne. André Messager conducted. On November 23, 1901, the opera

drew the largest receipts known thus far in the history of the Opéra

Comique--9538 francs.

Mr. Philip Hale tells the story of the opera as follows:

"The scene is in Provence and in the fourteenth century. The _Marquis

of Saluzzo_, strolling about in his domains, met _Griselda_, a

shepherdess, and he loved her at first sight. Her heart was pure; her

hair was ebon black; her eyes shone with celestial light. He married

her and the boy _Loÿs_ was born to them. The happy days came to an

end, for the _Marquis_ was called to the war against the Saracens.

Before he set out, he confided to the prior his grief at leaving

_Griselda_. The prior was a Job's comforter: 'Let my lord look out for

the devil! When husbands are far away, _Satan_ tempts their wives.'

The _Marquis_ protests for he knew the purity of _Griselda_; but as he

protested he heard a mocking laugh, and he saw at the window an

ape-like apparition. It was the devil all in green. The _Marquis_

would drive him away, but the devil proposed a wager: he bet that he

would tempt _Griselda_ to her fall, while the _Marquis_ was absent.

The _Marquis_ confidently took up the wager, and gave the devil his

ring as a pledge. The devil of these librettists had a wife who nagged

her spouse, and he in revenge sought to make other husbands unhappy.

He began to lay snares for _Griselda_; he appeared in the disguise of

a Byzantine Jew, who came to the castle, leading as a captive, his own

wife, _Fiamina_, and he presented her: 'This slave belongs to the

_Marquis_. He bids you to receive her, to put her in your place, to

serve her, to obey her in all things. Here is his ring.' _Griselda_

meekly bowed her head. The devil said to himself that _Griselda_ would

now surely seek vengeance on her cruel lord. He brought _Alain_ by a

spell to the castle garden at night--_Alain_, who had so fondly loved

_Griselda_. She met him in an odorous and lonely walk. He threw

himself at her feet and made hot love. _Griselda_ thought of her

husband who had wounded her to the quick, and was about to throw

herself into _Alain's_ arms, when her little child appeared.

_Griselda_ repulsed _Alain_, and the devil in his rage bore away the

boy, _Loÿs_. The devil came again, this time as a corsair, who told

her that the pirate chief was enamoured of her beauty; she would

regain the child if she would only yield; she would see him if she

would go to the vessel. She ran to the ship, but lo! the _Marquis_,

home from the East. And then the devil, in another disguise, spoke

foully of _Griselda's_ behaviour, and the _Marquis_ was about to

believe him, but he saw _Griselda_ and his suspicions faded away. The

devil in the capital of a column declared that _Loÿs_ belonged to him.

Foolish devil, who did not heed the patron saint before whom the

_Marquis_ and _Griselda_ were kneeling. The cross on the altar was

bathed in light; the triptych opened; there, at the feet of St. Agnes,

was little _Loÿs_ asleep.

"The opera begins with a prologue which is not to be found in the

version played at the Comédie-Française in 1891. The prologue

acquaints us with the hope of the shepherd _Alain_ that he may win

_Griselda_: with the _Marquis_ meeting _Griselda_ as he returns from

the chase, his sudden passion for her, his decision to take the young

peasant as his wife, the despair of _Alain_. This prologue, with a

fine use of themes that are used in the opera as typical, is described

as one of the finest works of Massenet, and even his enemies among the

ultra-moderns admit that the instrumentation is prodigiously skilful

and truly poetic.

"The first act pictures the oratory of _Griselda_, and ends with the

departure of the _Marquis_.

"The second act passes before the château, on a terrace adorned with

three orange trees, with the sea glittering in the distance. It is

preceded by an entr'acte of an idyllic nature. It is in this act

that the devil and his wife enter disguised, the former as a slave

merchant, the latter as an odalisque. In this act the devil, up to his

old tricks, orders the flowers to pour madding perfumes into the air

that they may aid in the fall of _Griselda_. And in this act _Alain_

again woos his beloved, and the devil almost wins his wager.

"The third act is in _Griselda's_ oratory. At the end, when _Loÿs_ is

discovered at the feet of St. Agnes, the retainers rush in and all

intone the 'Magnificat' and through a window the devil is seen in a

hermitage, wearing cloak and hood.

"The passages that have excited the warmest praise are the prologue,

_Griselda's_ scene in the first act, 'L'Oiseau qui pars à

tire-d'aile,' and the quiet ending of the act after the tumult of the

departure to the East; in the second act, the prelude, the song, 'Il

partit au printemps,' the invocation, and the duet; in the third act,

a song from the _Marquis_, and the final and mystic scene."

THAÏS