From an engraving by Bonnart at the British Museum.
]
It has also been said that the founder of French opera, though humble
and abject in the presence of the powerful, was proportionately insolent
and despotic with his artists and the persons employed at the Opéra. It
is true that Lully often flew into a passion and accused the performers
of clumsiness, and he went so far, on one occasion, as to break the
violin belonging to one of the members of the orchestra upon the head of
the unfortunate performer, because he had failed to render a somewhat
difficult passage in a satisfactory manner. The composer made amends for
his violence, however, by presenting to the insulted violinist three
times the value of the broken instrument, and also by inviting him to
dinner.
Apart from the acts he committed in moments of passion, Lully was a
model director and far outshone any who preceded him. He found time to
do everything; he composed, attended the court, saw to the
_mise-en-scène_ of his operas, and superintended the rehearsals of both
the vocal and instrumental elements of the piece. He paid great
attention to the scenic effects, which were very complicated in that
day, and being a clever comedian and an accomplished dancer, he acted as
stage manager and general director of all dramatic performances.
Lully married the daughter of Lambert, who is mentioned by Boileau in
his third satire; and their union was a happy one. In the course of time
the composer became wealthy, and the owner of several houses in Paris.
His death was brought about by a curious accident. Louis XIV. having
been ill, on his recovery, Lully composed, as a thanks-offering, a “Te
Deum” which was performed under his direction at the Feuillants in the
Rue Saint-Honoré, on the 8th of February, 1687. During one of the
rehearsals Lully was beating time with his cane, and, in so doing,
accidentally struck his toe, inflicting a bruise. The injury, which
seemed at first nothing more than a slight concussion, speedily
developed into a serious sore; an abscess appeared, and of such a
malignant character that the doctors considered it would be necessary to
amputate the affected part. Lully hesitated to sanction this extreme
step, and in a short time it became a question, not of amputating merely
the toe, but the entire foot. The patient would not consent to this,
however, and the disease, making rapid progress, soon affected the whole
leg, and the one hope of saving his life lay in the amputation of that
member. Unfortunately, at the very moment when he appeared willing to
undergo the operation, a quack came on the scene and offered to cure the
patient without recourse to amputation; but the efforts of this
empirical pretender were in vain, and the illustrious composer passed
away at Paris, on Saturday, the 22d of March, 1687, aged fifty-four
years. Of him Mme. de Sévigné wrote, after listening to some of his more
serious music, “If there be music in heaven, it must be the music of
Lully.”
The distinguishing qualities of Lully’s dramatic music are nobility of
style, correct declamation, and truth of sentiment, dramatic and scenic.
Most of the ornate effects in vocal music which were then fashionable in
Italy were excluded from French opera by Lully.
In “Alceste,” a lyric tragedy in five acts, with prologue, the words by
Quinault, Lully’s third work, performed in the month of January, 1674,
we find the celebrated air sung by Charon. It is a veritable masterpiece
of lyric declamation, and is still frequently sung and has not become
old-fashioned, for it embodies that supreme quality that knows no date,
human sentiment voiced in a truthful manner.
“Cadmus et Hermione” was the first great work produced by Lully. The
master had just taken possession of the Palais-Royal hall, as director
of the Opéra, by royal favor, and it was with this piece that he
inaugurated his control. So far, the composer had written only
interludes, interspersed with songs and dance music, among which the
most important were those written for pieces by Molière, “Le Bourgeois
Gentilhomme,” “La Princesse d’Elide,” “Le Mariage Forcé,” “L’Amour
Médecin,” “Monsieur de Pourceaugnac,” and “Psyché.” He had also written,
prior to his brilliant _début_ as a dramatic composer, the music for the
ballets “La Raillerie,” “Le Ballet des Muses,” “Cariselli,” “Les Amours
Déguisés,” and several others.
Before his first tragic work, Lully had produced the pasticcio, composed
of airs borrowed from his own _répertoire_, “Les Fêtes de l’Amour et de
Bacchus,” a pastoral in three acts for which Molière, Benserade, and
Quinault wrote the words. The composer, ever fortunate, had the pleasure
of seeing, at a performance at which the king was present, the Duke of
Monmouth, the Duc de Villeroy, and the Marquis de Rassen dance in this
pastoral; for, with a view to acquire graceful deportment, they were
content to mix with professional dancers. This fact is significant of
the manners of society during that period in the history of France, and
the applause bestowed by Louis XIV. upon the noble dancers, also
redounded to the credit of Lully and contributed to his promotion.
“Atys” was a particularly fortunate piece, for it gave especial pleasure
to Le Grande Monarque, who might have said, without undue exaggeration,
“La France, c’est moi!” This work, on which Quinault collaborated, was
produced for the first time at the Château of St. Germain, in the month
of January, 1678, in the presence of Louis XIV., and was not brought to
the notice of the Parisians before the month of August of the following
year. “Atys” was therefore called the “Opéra du Roy.”
[Illustration: