is 1519. Elvira, a noble Spanish lady, betrothed to the grandee Don
Gomez de Silva, is in love with the bandit Ernani, who forms a plan to
carry her off. While receiving the congratulations of her friends upon
her approaching marriage with Silva, Don Carlos, the King of Spain,
enters her apartment, declares his passion for her, and tries to force
her from the castle. She cries for help, and Ernani comes to her
rescue and defies the king. The situation is still further complicated
by the sudden arrival of Silva, who declares he will avenge the
insult. Finding, however, that it is the King whom he has challenged,
he sues for pardon. In the second act, as the nuptials are about to be
solemnized, Ernani enters, disguised as a pilgrim, and believing
Elvira false to him, throws off his disguise and demands to be given
up to the King, which Silva refuses, as he cannot betray a guest.
Discovering, however, that Elvira and Ernani are attached to each
other, he determines on vengeance. The King eventually carries off
Elvira as a hostage of the faith of Silva, whereupon the latter
challenges Ernani. The bandit refuses to fight with him, informs him
that the King is also his rival, and asks to share in his vengeance,
promising in turn to give up his life when Silva calls for it, and
presenting him with a horn which he is to sound whenever he wishes to
have the promise kept. In the third act, the King, aware that the
conspirators are to meet in the catacombs of Aquisgrana, conceals
himself there, and when the assassins meet to decide who shall kill
him, he suddenly appears among them and condemns the nobles to be sent
to the block. Ernani, who is a duke, under the ban of the King of
Castile, demands the right to join them, but the King magnanimously
pardons the conspirators and consents to the union of Ernani and
Elvira. Upon the very eve of their happiness, and in the midst of
their festivities, the fatal horn is heard, and true to his promise
Ernani parts from Elvira and kills himself.
The first act opens with a spirited chorus of banditti and
mountaineers ("Allegri, beviami") as they are drinking and gambling in
their mountain retreat. Ernani appears upon a neighboring height and
announces himself in a despondent aria ("Come rugiada al cespite"). A
brief snatch of chorus intervenes, when he breaks out in a second and
more passionate strain ("Dell' esilio nel dolore"), in which he sings
of his love for Elvira. The third scene opens in Elvira's apartments,
and is introduced with one of the most beautiful of Verdi's arias,
"Ernani, involami," with which all concert-goers have become
acquainted by its frequent repetition. A graceful chorus of her ladies
bearing gifts leads to a second and more florid number ("Tutto sprezzo
che d' Ernani"). Don Carlos enters, and in the seventh scene has an
aria ("Bella come un primo amore") in which he declares his passion
for Elvira, leading up to a very dramatic duet between them ("Fiero
sangue d' Aragona"). This is followed in turn by a trio between the
two and Ernani. The finale commences with an impressive and sonorous
bass solo ("Infelice! e tuo credevi") by Silva, and closes with a
septet and chorus of great power.
The second act, like the first, opens with a chorus, this time,
however, of mixed voices, the power of which is amplified by a
military band on the stage. After three scenes of dramatic dialogue,
an impassioned duet ("Ah! morir potessi adesso!") occurs between
Ernani and Elvira, followed by a second, of great dramatic intensity,
in the seventh scene ("La vendetta piu tremenda"). The finale begins
with a spirited appeal by Silva and Ernani for vengeance against the
King ("In arcione, cavalieri") which is met by a stirring response
from their followers ("Pronti vedi li tuoi cavalieri"), sung by full
male chorus and closing the act.
The third act is devoted to the conspiracy, and in the second scene
Don Carlos has a very impressive and at times thrilling soliloquy
("Gran Dio! costo sui sepolcrali marmi"). The conspiracy then begins
with very characteristic accompaniments, closing with the chorus in
full harmony ("Si ridesti il Leon di Castiglia"), which at the
performance of the work in Venice roused such a fury among the
Venetians. The finale commences with the appearance of Don Carlos
among the conspirators, and closes with the great sextet and chorus,
"O Sommo Carlo." Opening with a barytone solo, it is gradually worked
up in a crescendo of great power and thrilling effect. The number is
very familiar from its English setting under the title, "Crowned with
the Tempest."
The fourth act rapidly hurries to the tragic close, and is less
interesting from a musical point of view, as the climax was reached in
the finale of the third. The principal numbers are the chorus of masks
in the first scene ("O come felici"), accompanied by military band,
and the great duet between Elvira and Ernani ("Cessaro i suoni"),
which passes from rapturous ecstasy to the despair of fate ("Per noi
d' amore il talamo") as the horn of Silva is heard, reminding Ernani
of his promise. Though one of the earliest of Verdi's works, "Ernani"
is one of his strongest in dramatic intensity, in the brilliancy and
power of its concerted finales, and in the beauty of its great chorus
effects.
RIGOLETTO.
"Rigoletto," an opera in three acts, words by Piave, the subject taken
from Victor Hugo's tragedy, "Le Roi s'amuse," was first produced at
Venice, March 11, 1851. The part of Gilda has always been a favorite
one with great artists, among whom Nantier-Didiée, Bosio, and
Miolan-Carvalho played the rôle with extraordinary success. In the
London season of 1860 Mario and Ronconi in the respective parts of the
Duke and Rigoletto, it is said, gave dramatic portraitures which were
among the most consummate achievements of the lyric stage. The records
of its first production, like those of "Ernani," are of unusual
interest. Verdi himself suggested Victor Hugo's tragedy to Piave for a
libretto, and he soon prepared one, changing the original title,
however, to "La Maledizione." Warned by the political events of 1848,
the police flatly refused to allow the representation of a king on the
stage in such situations as those given to Francis I. in the original
tragedy. The composer and the manager of the theatre begged in vain
that the libretto should be accepted, but the authorities were
obstinate. At last a way was found out of the difficulty by the chief
of police himself, who was a great lover of art. He suggested to the
librettist that the King should be changed to a duke of Mantua, and
the title of the work to "Rigoletto," the name of the buffoon who
figures in the place of the original Triboulet. Verdi accepted the
alterations, and had an opera ready in forty days which by nearly all
critics is considered his musical masterpiece, notwithstanding the
revolting character of the story.
The scene of the opera is laid in Mantua. Rigoletto, the privileged
buffoon of the Duke, who also plays the part of pander in all his
licentious schemes, among numerous other misdeeds has assisted his
master in the seduction of the wife of Count Ceprano and the daughter
of Count Monterone. The latter appears before the Duke and Rigoletto,
and demands reparation for the dishonor put upon his house, only to
find himself arrested by order of the Duke, and taunted in the most
insolent manner by the buffoon, upon whom he invokes the vengeance of
Heaven. Even the courtiers themselves are enraged at Rigoletto's
taunts, and determine to assist in Monterone's revenge by stealing
Gilda, the jester's daughter, whom they suppose to be his mistress.
Closely as she had been concealed, she had not escaped the observation
of the Duke, who in the guise of a poor student wins her affections
and discovers her dwelling-place. Pretending that it is Count
Ceprano's wife whom they are about to abduct, they even make Rigoletto
assist in the plot and help convey his own daughter to the Duke's
apartments. In his blind fury when he discovers the trick that has
been played upon him, he hires Sparafucile, a professional assassin,
to kill the Duke. The bravo allures the Duke to his house, intending
to carry out his agreement; but his sister, Magdalena, is so
fascinated with the handsome stranger, that she determines to save
him. Sparafucile at first will not listen to her, but finally promises
if any one else comes to the house before the time agreed upon for the
murder he shall be the victim. Rigoletto meanwhile disguises his
daughter in male attire in order that she may escape to Verona; but
before she sets out he takes her to the vicinity of Sparafucile's
house, that she may witness the perfidy of the Duke. While outside,
she overhears the quarrel between Sparafucile and Magdalena, and
learns his intention to murder the Duke, who is even then sleeping in
the house. With a woman's devotion she springs forward to save the
Duke's life, knocks at the door, and demands admittance. Sparafucile
opens it, and as she enters stabs her. He then thrusts her body into a
sack, and delivers it to her father as the body of the man whom he had
agreed to slay. Rigoletto, gloating over his revenge, is about to
throw the sack into the river near by, when he suddenly hears the
voice of the Duke. He tears open the sack to see whose body it
contains, and by the glare of the lightning is horrified to find that
it is his own daughter, and realizes that the malediction of Monterone
has been accomplished. She expires in his arms, blessing her lover and
father, while he sinks to the ground overwhelmed with the fulfilment
of the terrible curse.
The first act opens in the ball-room of the ducal palace. After a
brief dialogue between the Duke and one of his courtiers, the former
vaunts his own fickleness in one of the most graceful and charming
arias in the whole opera ("Questa o quella"). Some spirited dramatic
scenes follow, which introduce the malediction of Monterone and the
compact between Rigoletto and Sparafucile, and lead up to a scena of
great power ("Io la lingua, egli ha il pugnali"), in which the buffoon
vents his furious rage against the courtiers. A tender duet between
Rigoletto and Gilda follows, and a second duet in the next scene
between Gilda and the Duke ("Addio, speranza ed anima"), which for
natural grace, passionate intensity, and fervid expression is one of
Verdi's finest numbers. As the Duke leaves, Gilda, following him with
her eyes, breaks out in the passionate love-song, "Caro nome," which
is not alone remarkable for its delicacy and richness of melody, but
also for the brilliancy of its bravura, calling for rare range and
flexibility of voice. The act closes with the abduction, and gives an
opportunity for a delightful male chorus ("Zitti, zitti") sung
pianissimo.
The second act also opens in the palace, with an aria by the Duke
("Parmi veder le lagrime"), in which he laments the loss of Gilda.
Another fine chorus ("Scorrendo uniti remota via") follows, from which
he learns that Gilda is already in the palace. In the fourth scene
Rigoletto has another grand scena ("Cortigiani vil razza dannata"),
which is intensely dramatic, expressing in its musical alternations
the whole gamut of emotions, from the fury of despair to the most
exquisite tenderness of appeal as he pleads with the courtiers to tell
him where his daughter is. In the next scene he discovers her, and the
act closes with a duet between them ("Tutte le feste al tempio"),
which, after a strain of most impassioned tenderness, is interrupted
by the passage of the guards conveying Monterone to prison, and then
closes with a furious outburst of passion from Rigoletto. With the
exception of two numbers, the last act depends for its effect upon the
dramatic situations and the great power of the terrible denouement;
but these two numbers are among the finest Verdi has ever given to the
world. The first is the tenor solo sung in Sparafucile's house in the
second scene by the Duke,--"La donna e mobile," an aria of extreme
elegance and graceful abandon, which is heard again in the last scene,
its lightly tripping measures contrasting strangely with the savage
glee of Rigoletto, so soon to change to wails of despair as he
realizes the full force of the malediction. The second is the great
quartet in the third scene between the Duke, Gilda, Magdalena, and
Rigoletto ("Bella figlia dell' amore"), which stands out as an
inspiration in comparison with the rest of the opera, fine as its
music is. The story itself is almost too repulsive for stage
representation; but in beauty, freshness, originality, and dramatic
expression the music of "Rigoletto" is Verdi's best; and in all this
music the quartet is the masterpiece.
LA TRAVIATA.
"La Traviata," an opera in three acts, words by Piave, is founded upon
Dumas's "Dame aux Camelias," familiar to the English stage as
"Camille." The original play is supposed to represent phases of modern
French life; but the Italian libretto changes the period to the year
1700, in the days of Louis XIV.; and there are also some material
changes of characters,--Marguerite Gauthier of the original appearing
as Violetta Valery, and Olympia as Flora Belvoix, at whose house the
ball scene takes place. The opera was first produced at Venice, March
6, 1853, with the following cast of the principal parts:--
VIOLETTA Mme. DONATELLI.
ALFREDO M. GRAZIANI.
GERMONT M. VARESI.
The opera at its first production was a complete failure, though this
was due more to the singers than to the music. It is said that when
the doctor announced in the third act that Mme. Donatelli, who
impersonated the consumptive heroine, and who was one of the stoutest
ladies ever seen on the stage, had but a few days to live, the whole
audience broke out into roars of laughter. Time has brought its
consolations to the composer, however, for "Traviata" is now one of
the most popular operas in the modern repertory. When it was first
produced in Paris, Oct. 27, 1864, Christine Nilsson made her début in
it. In London, the charming little singer Mme. Piccolomini made her
début in the same opera, May 24, 1856. Adelina Patti, since that time,
has not only made Violetta the strongest character in her repertory,
but is without question the most finished representative of the
fragile heroine the stage has seen.
The story as told by the librettist simply resolves itself into three
principal scenes,--the supper at Violetta's house, where she makes the
acquaintance of Alfred, and the rupture between them occasioned by the
arrival of Alfred's father; the ball at the house of Flora; and the
death scene and reconciliation, linked together by recitative, so that
the dramatic unity of the original is lost to a certain extent. The
first act opens with a gay party in Violetta's house. Among the crowd
about her is Alfred Germont, a young man from Provence, who is
passionately in love with her. The sincerity of his passion finally
influences her to turn aside from her life of voluptuous pleasure and
to cherish a similar sentiment for him. In the next act we find her
living in seclusion with her lover in a country-house in the environs
of Paris, to support which she has sold her property in the city. When
Alfred discovers this he refuses to be the recipient of her bounty,
and sets out for Paris to recover the property. During his absence his
father, who has discovered his retreat, visits Violetta, and pleads
with her to forsake Alfred, not only on his own account, but to save
his family from disgrace. Touched by the father's grief, she consents,
and secretly returns to Paris, where she once more resumes her old
life. At a ball given by Flora Belvoix, one of Violetta's associates,
Alfred meets her again, overwhelms her with reproaches, and insults
her by flinging her miniature at her feet in presence of the whole
company. Stung by her degradation, Violetta goes home to die, and too
late Alfred learns the real sacrifice she has made. He hastens to
comfort her, but she dies forgiving and blessing him.
After a short prelude the first act opens with a vivacious chorus of
the guests at Violetta's supper, leading to a drinking-song ("Libiamo,
libiamo") in waltz time, sung first by Alfred and then by Violetta,
the chorus echoing each couplet with very pretty effect. After a long
dialogue between the two, closing with chorus, Violetta has a grand
scena which is always a favorite show-piece with concert artists. It
begins with an andante movement ("Ah! fors e lui"), expressive of the
suddenly awakened love which she feels for Alfred, with a refrain of
half a dozen measures in the finale which might be called the Violetta
motive, and then suddenly develops into a brisk and sparkling allegro
("Sempre libera") full of the most florid and brilliant ornamentation,
in which she again resolves to shut out every feeling of love and
plunge into the whirl of dissipation. This number, unlike most of
Verdi's finales which are concerted, closes the act.
The second act opens in the country-house with an effective tenor aria
("De' miei bollenti") sung by Alfred. In the next scene Germont
enters, and after a brief dialogue with Violetta sings a short
cantabile ("Pura siccome un angelo"), leading to a duet ("Dite alia
giovine") with Violetta which is full of tenderness. In the interview
which immediately follows between Germont and Alfred, the father
appeals to his son with memories of home in an andante ("Di Provenza
il mar") which in form and simplicity and simple pathos of expression
might almost be called a ballad. It is always a favorite, and is
usually considered the best number in the opera, notwithstanding its
simple melody. The next scene changes to the ball-room of Flora, and
is introduced with a peculiar chorus effect. A masked chorus of
gypsies, accompanying their measures with tambourines, is followed by
a second chorus of matadors, also in mask, who accent the time with
the pikes they carry, the double number ending with a gay bolero. The
act closes with a long duet between Violetta and Alfred, developing in
the finale, by the entrance of Germont, to a very strong and dramatic
trio.
The third act opens in Violetta's chamber with a reminiscence of the
introduction. As she contemplates her changed appearance in the
mirror, she bids a sad farewell to her dreams of happiness in the
aria, "Addio! del passato," in harsh contrast with which is heard a
bacchanalian chorus behind the scenes ("Largo al quadrupede"). In the
next scene occurs the passionate duet with Alfred, "Parigi, o cara,"
which is a close copy of the final duet in "Trovatore" between Manrico
and Azucena. It is followed by the aria, "Ah! gran Dio," for Violetta,
which leads to the concluding quintet and death scene.
IL TROVATORE.
"II Trovatore," an opera in four acts, words by Cammarano, was first
produced in Rome, Jan. 19, 1853. In 1857 it was brought out in Paris
as "Le Trouvere," and in London, 1856, in English, as "The Gypsy's
Vengeance." It was produced in Rome in the same year with "La
Traviata," but unlike the latter, it was greeted at once with an
enthusiastic welcome; and it has held the stage ever since as one of
the most popular operas in the modern repertory. In this regard,
indeed, it shares with "Martha" and "Faust" the highest place in
popular admiration.
The opera opens with a midnight scene at the palace of Aliaferia,
where the old servitor, Ferrando, relates to his associates the story
of the fate of Garzia, brother of the Count di Luna, in whose service
they are employed. While in their cradles, Garzia was bewitched by an
old gypsy, and day by day pined away. The gypsy was burned at the
stake for sorcery; and in revenge Azucena, her daughter, stole the
sickly child. At the opening of the opera his fate has not been
discovered.
As the servitor closes his narrative and he and his companions depart,
the Count di Luna enters and lingers by the apartment of the Duchess
Leonora, with whom he is in love. Hearing his voice, Leonora comes
into the garden, supposing it is Manrico the troubadour, whom she had
crowned victor at a recent tournament, and of whom she had become
violently enamoured. As she greets the Count, Manrico appears upon the
scene and charges her with infidelity. Recognizing her error, she
flies to Manrico for protection. The Count challenges him to combat,
and as they prepare to fight she falls to the ground insensible.
In the second act we are introduced to a gypsy camp, where Azucena
relates to Manrico, who has been wounded in the duel with the Count,
the same story which Ferrando had told his friends, with the addition
that when she saw her mother burning she caught up the Count's child,
intending to throw it into the flames, but by a mistake sacrificed her
own infant. As the story concludes, a messenger arrives, summoning
Manrico to the defence of the castle of Castellar, and at the same
time informing him that Leonora, supposing him dead, has gone to a
convent. He arrives at the convent in time to rescue her before she
takes her vows, and bears her to Castellar, which is at once besieged
by the Count's forces.
The third act opens in the camp of the Count, where Azucena, arrested
as a spy, is dragged in. She calls upon Manrico for help. The mention
of his rival's name only adds fuel to the Count's wrath, and he orders
the gypsy to be burned in sight of the castle. Ferrando has already
recognized her as the supposed murderer of the Count's brother, and
her filial call to Manrico also reveals to him that she is his mother.
He makes a desperate effort to rescue her, but is defeated, taken
prisoner, and thrown into a dungeon with Azucena. Leonora vainly
appeals to the Count to spare Manrico, and at last offers him her hand
if he will save his life. He consents, and Leonora hastens to the
prison to convey the tidings, having previously taken poison,
preferring to die rather than fulfil her hateful compact. Manrico
refuses his liberty, and as Leonora falls in a dying condition the
Count enters and orders Manrico to be put to death at once. He is
dragged away to execution, but as the Count triumphantly forces
Azucena to a window and shows her the tragic scene, she reveals her
secret, and informing the horror-stricken Count that he has murdered
his own brother, falls lifeless to the ground.
The first act opens with a ballad in mazurka time ("Abbietta
Zingara"), in which Ferrando relates the story of the gypsy, leading
up to a scena for Leonora, which is treated in Verdi's favorite style.
It begins with an andante ("Tacea la notte placida"), a brief dialogue
with her attendant Inez intervening, and then develops into an allegro
("Di tale amor") which is a brilliant bit of bravura. A brief snatch
of fascinating melody behind the scenes ("Deserto sulla terra")
introduces Manrico, and the act closes with a trio ("Di geloso amor
sprezzato"), which as an expression of combined grief, fear, and hate,
is one of the most dramatic and intense of all Verdi's finales.
The second act opens with the Anvil chorus in the camp of the gypsies
("La Zingarella"), the measures accented with hammers upon the anvils.
This number is so familiar that it does not need further reference. As
its strains die away in the distance, Azucena breaks out into an aria
of intense energy, with very expressive accompaniment ("Stride le
vampa"), in which she tells the fearful story of the burning of her
mother. A very dramatic dialogue with Manrico ensues, closing with a
spirited aria for tenor ("Mai reggendo") and duet ("Sino all' elsa").
The scene is interrupted by the notes of a horn announcing the arrival
of a messenger. The second scene is introduced by a flowing, broad,
and beautifully sustained aria for the Count ("Il balen del suo"),
and, like Leonora's numbers in the garden scene, again develops from a
slow movement to a rapid and spirited march tempo ("Per me ora
fatale"), the act closing with a powerful concerted effect of quartet
and chorus.
The third act is introduced with a very free and animated soldiers'
chorus. Azucena is dragged in and sings a plaintive lament for Manrico
("Giorni poveri"). Two duets follow, between Azucena and the Count,
and Manrico and Leonora,--the second worked up with beautiful effect
by the blending of the organ in the convent chapel. The act closes
with the spirited aria, "Di quella pira," for Manrico,--a number which
has always been the delight of great dramatic tenors, not alone for
its fine melody, but for its opportunity of showing the voice and
using the exceptional high C which is introduced in the finale of the
aria.
The last act is replete with beautiful melodies following each other
in quick succession. It opens with a very florid aria for Leonora ("D'
amor sull' ali rosee"), leading to the exquisite scene of the
Miserere, "Ah che la morte,"--a number which has never yet failed to
charm and arouse audiences with the beauty and richness of its musical
effect. As the Count enters, Leonora has another powerful aria ("Mira
di acerbe"), which in the next scene is followed by the familiar duet
between Azucena and Manrico, "Si la stanchezza," upon which Verdi
lavished his musical skill with charming effect. The last scene closes
with the tragedy. The whole opera is liberally enriched with melodies,
and is dramatic throughout; but the last act is the crown of the work,
and may successfully challenge comparison, for beauty, variety, and
dramatic effect, with any other opera in the purely Italian school.
IL BALLO IN MASCHERA.