with forebodings of coming evil. A hermit whom she has met in the
woods has warned her of danger, and given her a wreath of magic roses
to ward it off. An ancestral portrait falling from the walls also
disturbs her; and at last the appearance of the melancholy Max
confirms her belief that trouble is in store for her. Max himself is
no less concerned. All sorts of strange sounds have troubled him, and
his slumbers have been invaded with apparitions. Nevertheless, he goes
to the Wolf's Glen; and though spectres, skeletons, and various
grotesque animals terrify him, and his mother's spirit appears and
warns him away, he overcomes his fright and appears with Caspar at the
place of incantation. Zamiel is summoned, and seven bullets are cast,
six of which are to be directed by Max himself in the forthcoming
match, while the seventh will be at the disposal of the demon. Little
dreaming the fate which hangs upon the seventh, Caspar offers no
objections.
The third act opens, like the last, in Kuno's house, and discovers
Agatha preparing for her nuptials, and telling Annchen a singular
dream she has had. She had fancied herself a dove, and that Max fired
at her. As the bird fell she came to herself and saw that the dove had
changed to a fierce bird of ill omen which lay dying at her feet. The
melancholy produced by the dream is still further heightened when it
is found that a funeral instead of a bridal wreath has been made for
her; but her heart lightens up again as she remembers the magic
rose-wreath which the hermit had enjoined her to wear on her wedding
day. At last the eventful day of trial comes, and the Prince and all
his courtiers assemble to witness the match. Max makes six shots in
succession which go home to the mark. At the Prince's command he fires
the seventh, Zamiel's bullet, at a dove flying past. As he fires,
Agatha appears to him as the dove, and he fancies he has slain her.
The wreath protects her, however, and Zamiel directs the bullet to
Caspar's heart. The demon claims his victim, and Max his bride, amid
general rejoicing.
The overture, which is one of the most favorite numbers of its class
in the concert-room as well as in the opera-house, is a masterpiece of
brilliant and descriptive instrumentation, and furnishes us with a key
to the whole story in its announcement of the leading themes. It opens
with an adagio horn passage of great beauty, giving us the groundwork
of the entire action; and then follow motives from Max's grand scena
in the first act, the Incantation music, Agatha's moonlight scene, and
other episodes connected with the action of Max and Caspar. Indeed,
the frequent and expressive use of the _Leit motif_ all through the
work seem to entitle Weber to the credit of its invention.
The first act opens with a spirited chorus of villagers, followed by a
lively march and a comic song by Kilian, in which he rallies Max upon
his bad luck. The next number is a trio and chorus, with solos for the
principals, Max, Kuno, and Caspar ("O diese Sonne, furchtbar steigt
sie mir empor"). Max laments his fate, but Kuno encourages him, while
Caspar insinuates his evil plot. The trio is of a sombre cast at the
beginning, but by a sudden change the horns and an expressive
combination of the chorus give it a cheerful character. It is once
more disturbed, however, by Caspar's ominous phrases, but at last Kuno
and his men cheer up the despondent lover with a brisk hunting-chorus,
and the villagers dance off to a lively waltz tempo. Max is left
alone, and the next number is a grand tenor scene. It opens with a
gloomy recitative, which lights up as he thinks of Agatha, and then
passes into one of the most tender and delicious of melodies ("Durch
die Wälder, durch die Auen"), set to a beautiful accompaniment.
Suddenly the harmony is clouded by the apparition of Zamiel, but as he
disappears, Max begins another charming melody ("Jetzt ist wohl ihr
Fenster offen"), which is even more beautiful than the first. As
Zamiel reappears the harmony is again darkened; but when despairing
Max utters the cry, "Lives there no God!" the wood-demon disappears,
and the great song comes to an end. In this mood Caspar meets him, and
seeks to cheer him with an hilarious drinking-song ("Hier im ird'schen
Jammerthal"), furious in its energy, and intended to express
unhallowed mirth. The act closes with Caspar's bass aria of infernal
triumph ("Triumph! die Rache, die Rache gelingt"), accompanied by
music which is wonderfully weird and shadowy in its suggestions.
The second act opens with a duet ("Schelm! halt fest") in which
Agatha's fear and anxiety are charmingly contrasted with the lightsome
and cheery nature of Annchen, her attendant, and this in turn is
followed by a naive and coquettish arietta ("Kommt ein schlanker
Bursch gegangen") sung by the latter. Annchen departs, and Agatha,
opening her window and letting the moonlight flood the room, sings the
famous scena and prayer, "Leise, leise, fromme Weise," beginning,
after a few bars of recitative, with a melody full of prayer and hope
and tender longings, shaded with vague presentiment. It is an adagio
of exquisite beauty, closing with an ecstatic outburst of rapture
("Alle meine Pulse schlagen") as she beholds her lover coming. The
melody has already been heard in the overture, but its full joy and
splendid sweep are attained only in this scene. In the next scene we
have a trio ("Wie? was? Entsetzen?") between Max, Annchen, and Agatha,
in which the musical discrimination of character is carried to a fine
point; and the act concludes with the incantation music in the Wolf's
Glen, which has never been surpassed in weirdness, mystery, and
diablerie, and at times in actual sublimity. Its real power lies in
the instrumentation; not alone in its vivid and picturesque
presentation of the melodramatic scene with its hideous surroundings,
but in its expressiveness and appositeness to the action and sentiment
by the skilful use of motives.
The last act has an instrumental prelude foreshadowing the Hunters'
Chorus. It opens with a graceful but somewhat melancholy aria of a
religious character ("Und ob die Wolke sie verhülle"), sung by Agatha,
in which she is still wavering between doubt and hope, and succeeded
by another of Annchen's arias, beginning with the gloomy romance,
"Einst traumte meiner sel'gen Base," and closing with a lively allegro
("Trübe Augen, Liebchen"), which is intended to encourage her sad
mistress. Then the bridesmaids sing their lively chorus, "Wir winden
dir den Jungfern-Kranz," so well known by its English title, "A rosy
Crown we twine for Thee." The pretty little number is followed by the
Hunters' Chorus, "Was gleicht wohl auf Erden dem Jägervergnügen,"
which is a universal favorite. It leads up to a strong dramatic
finale, crowded with striking musical ideas, and containing Agatha's
beautiful melody in the closing chorus.
Few operas have had such world-wide popularity as "Der Freischütz,"
and yet it is an essentially German product. The composer's son has
aptly characterized it, in his Biography of his father: "Weber did not
compose 'Der Freischütz;' he allowed it to grow out of the rich soil
of his brave German heart, and to expand leaf by leaf, blossom by
blossom, fostered by the hand of his talent; and thus no German looks
upon the opera as a work of art which appeals to him from without. He
feels as if every line of the work came from his own heart, as if he
himself had dreamed it so, and it could no more sound otherwise than
the rustling of an honest German beech-wood."
OBERON.
"Oberon, or the Elf King's Oath," a romantic and fairy opera in three
acts, words by J.R. Planché, was first produced at Covent Garden,
London, April 12, 1826, in English. Its first Italian performance was
given in the same city, July 3, 1860, the recitatives being supplied
by Benedict, who also added several numbers from "Euryanthe." The
original cast was as follows:--
REIZA Miss PATON.
FATIMA Mme. VESTRIS.
PUCK Miss CAWSE.
HUON Mr. BRAHAM.
OBERON Mr. BLAND.
SHERASMIN Mr. FAWCETT.
MERMAID Miss GOWNELL.
The librettist, Planché, in a tribute to Weber, gives the origin of
the story of "Oberon." It appeared originally in a famous collection
of French romances, "La Bibliothèque Bleue," under the title of "Huon
of Bordeaux." The German poet Wieland adopted the principal incidents
of the story as the basis of his poem, "Oberon," and Sotheby's
translation of it was used in the preparation of the text. The
original sketch of the action, as furnished by Planché, is as
follows:--
Oberon, the Elfin King, having quarrelled with his fairy partner, vows
never to be reconciled to her till he shall find two lovers constant
through peril and temptation. To seek such a pair his 'tricksy
spirit,' Puck, has ranged in vain through the world. Puck, however,
hears the sentence passed on Sir Huon of Bordeaux, a young knight,
who, having been insulted by the son of Charlemagne, kills him in
single combat, and is for this condemned by the monarch to travel to
Bagdad to slay him who sits on the Caliph's left hand, and to claim
his daughter as his bride. Oberon instantly resolves to make this pair
the instruments of his reunion with his queen, and for this purpose he
brings up Huon and Sherasmin asleep before him, enamours the knight by
showing him Reiza, daughter of the Caliph, in a vision, transports him
at his waking to Bagdad, and having given him a magic horn, by the
blasts of which he is always to summon the assistance of Oberon, and a
cup that fills at pleasure, disappears. Here Sir Huon rescues a man
from a lion, who proves afterwards to be Prince Babekan, who is
betrothed to Reiza. One of the properties of the cup is to detect
misconduct. He offers it to Babekan.
On raising it to his lips the wine turns to flame, and thus proves him
a villain. He attempts to assassinate Huon, but is put to flight. The
knight then learns from an old woman that the princess is to be
married next day, but that Reiza has been influenced, like her lover,
by a vision, and is resolved to be his alone. She believes that fate
will protect her from her nuptials with Babekan, which are to be
solemnized on the next day. Huon enters, fights with and vanquishes
Babekan, and having spell-bound the rest by a blast of the magic horn,
he and Sherasmin carry off Reiza and Fatima. They are soon
shipwrecked. Reiza is captured by pirates on a desert island and
brought to Tunis, where she is sold to the Emir and exposed to every
temptation, but she remains constant. Sir Huon, by the order of
Oberon, is also conveyed thither. He undergoes similar trials from
Roshana, the jealous wife of the Emir, but proving invulnerable she
accuses him to her husband, and he is condemned to be burned on the
same pile with Reiza. They are rescued by Sherasmin, who has the magic
horn. Oberon appears with his queen, whom he has regained by their
constancy, and the opera concludes with Charlemagne's pardon of Huon.
The overture, like that of "Der Freischütz," reflects the story, and
is universally popular. Its leading themes are the horn solo, which
forms the symphony of Sir Huon's vision, a short movement from the
fairies' chorus, a martial strain from the last scene in the court of
Charlemagne, a passage from Reiza's scene in the second act, and
Puck's invocation of the spirits.
The first act opens in Oberon's bower with a melodious chorus of
fairies and genii ("Light as fairy Feet can fall"), followed by a solo
for Oberon ("Fatal Oath"), portraying his melancholy mood, and "The
Vision," a quaint, simple melody by Reiza ("Oh! why art thou
sleeping?"), which leads up to a splendid ensemble ("Honor and Joy to
the True and the Brave"), containing a solo for Oberon, during which
the scene suddenly changes from the fairy bower to the city of Bagdad.
Huon has a grand scena ("Oh! 't is a Glorious Sight"), a composition
in several movements beginning with a dramatic bravura illustrative of
the scenes of the battlefield, and closing with a joyous, brisk
allegretto ("Joy to the high-born Dames of France"). The finale begins
with an aria by Reiza ("Yes, my Lord"), in the Italian style, passing
into a duet for Reiza and Fatima, and closing with the chorus ("Now
the Evening Watch is set.")
The second act opens with a characteristic chorus ("Glory to the
Caliph"), the music of which has been claimed by some critics as
genuinely Moorish, though it is probable that Weber only imitated that
style in conformity to the demands of the situation. A little march
and three melodramatic passages lead up to an arietta for Fatima ("A
lovely Arab Maid"), beginning with a very pleasing minor and closing
in a lively major. This leads directly to the lovely quartet, "Over
the Dark Blue Waters,"--one of the most attractive numbers in the
opera. It is a concerted piece for two sopranos, tenor, and bass,
opening with two responsive solos in duet, first for the bass and
tenor, and then for the two sopranos, the voices finally uniting in a
joyous and animated movement of great power. The music now passes to
the supernatural, and we have Puck's invocation to the spirits, whom
he summons to raise a storm and sink the vessel in which the lovers
have embarked. Puck's recitative is very powerful, and the chorus of
the spirits in response, a very rapid presto movement, is in its way
as effective as the incantation music in "Der Freischütz." The storm
rises, the orchestra being the medium of the description, which is
very graphic and effective. Huon has a short prayer ("Ruler of this
Awful Hour"), which is impressively solemn, and then follows Reiza's
magnificent apostrophe to the sea ("Ocean, thou mighty Monster that
liest curled like a green Serpent round about the World"). The scene
is heroic in its construction, and its effective performance calls for
the highest artistic power. It represents the gradual calm of the
angry waters, the breaking of the sun through the gloom, and the
arrival of a boat to the succor of the distressed Reiza. The immense
effect of the scene is greatly enhanced by the descriptive
instrumentation, especially in the allegro describing the rolling of
the billows and the recitative and succeeding andante picturing the
outburst of the sun. The mermaid's song ("Oh! 't is pleasant"), with
its wavy, flowing melody, forms a fitting pendant to this great
picture of elementary strife; and a delicate and graceful chorus
closes the act.
The third act opens with a lovely song for Fatima ("Oh! Araby, dear
Araby"), consisting of two movements,--an andante plaintively
recalling past memories, and an allegro of exquisite taste. The song,
even detached from the opera, has always been greatly admired in
concert-rooms, and, it is said, was a special favorite also with the
composer. It is followed by a duet for Sherasmin and Fatima ("On the
Banks of sweet Garonne"), which is of a vivacious and comic nature in
Sherasmin's part, and then passes into a tender minor as Fatima sings.
The next number is a trio for soprano, alto, and tenor ("And must I
then dissemble?"), written very much in the style of the trio in "Der
Freischütz," and yet purely original in its effect. Reiza follows with
a smooth, flowing, and pathetic cavatina ("Mourn thou, poor Heart"),
which is succeeded in marked contrast by a joyous rondo ("I revel in
Hope") sung by Sir Huon. The next scene is that of Sir Huon's
temptation, a voluptuous passage for ballet and chorus, interrupted at
intervals by the energetic exclamations of the paladin as he
successfully resists the sirens. The gay scene leads up to the finale.
Sir Huon and Reiza are bound to the stake, surrounded by slaves
singing a weird chorus. A blast from the magic horn sets them dancing,
and a quartet for the four principal characters based upon the subject
of the slaves' Chorus ensues. Oberon appears and takes his leave after
transporting the whole company to the royal halls of Charlemagne. A
stirring march opens the scene, a beautiful aria by Huon follows
("Yes! even Love to Fame must yield"), and a chorus by the whole court
closes the opera.
EURYANTHE.
The opera of "Euryanthe" was written for the Kärnthnerthor Theatre,
Vienna, where it was first produced Oct. 25, 1823, though not with the
success which afterwards greeted it in Berlin, owing to the Rossini
craze with which the Austrian capital was afflicted at that time. The
libretto is by Helmine von Chezy, an eccentric old woman who proved a
sad torment to the composer. The plot, which is a curious mixture of
"Cymbeline" and "Lohengrin," was adapted from an old French romance,
entitled "L'Histoire de Gerard de Nevers et de la belle et vertueuse
Euryanthe, sa mie," and is substantially as follows:--
In the palace of King Louis of France, where a brilliant assemblage is
gathered, Count Adolar sings a tribute to the beauty and virtue of
Euryanthe, his betrothed. Count Lysiart replies with a sneer, and
boasts that he can gain her favor; but Adolar challenges him to bring
a proof. The scene then changes to the castle of Nevers, and discloses
Euryanthe longing for Adolar. Eglantine, who is also in love with
Adolar, and who is conspiring against Euryanthe, soon joins her, and
in their interview the latter rashly discloses the secret of a
neighboring tomb known only to herself and Adolar. In this tomb rests
the body of Emma, Adolar's sister, who had killed herself, and whose
ghost had appeared to Euryanthe and her lover with the declaration
that she can never be at peace until tears of innocence have been shed
upon the ring which was the agency employed in her death. Lysiart
arrives from court with a commission to take Euryanthe to the King,
while Eglantine is left behind in possession of the secret.
In the second act Lysiart deplores his failure to obtain the favor of
Euryanthe; but his hopes are renewed when he meets Eglantine emerging
from the tomb with the ring, and learns from her that it can be made
to convict Euryanthe of indiscretion, or at least of breaking her
promise not to reveal the tomb secret. He obtains the ring, confronts
Euryanthe with it at the palace, and forces her to admit the broken
promise. Adolar, believing that she is guilty, drags her away to a
wilderness where it is his intention to kill her; but on the way they
are attacked by a serpent. Adolar slays the monster, and then, seized
with sudden pity, he abandons his intention of killing her, but leaves
her to her fate. She is subsequently found by the King while on a
hunting expedition, and to him she relates the story of Eglantine's
treachery. The King takes her with him to the palace. Meanwhile Adolar
has begun to suspect that Euryanthe has been the victim of her base
wiles, and on his way to Nevers to punish Lysiart he encounters the
wedding-procession of the guilty pair, and challenges him. The King
suddenly arrives upon the scene and announces Euryanthe's death,
whereupon Eglantine declares her love for Adolar. The furious Lysiart
turns upon her and stabs her. Euryanthe is not dead. She has only
fainted, and is soon restored to her lover, while Lysiart is led off
to the scaffold.
The overture, which is familiar in our concert-rooms, gives a sketch
of the principal situations in the opera. The first act opens in the
great banquet-hall of the King with a flowing and stately chorus ("Dem
Frieden Heil") alternating between female and male voices and finally
taken by the full chorus. Then follows Adolar's lovely and tender
romanza ("Unter blühenden Mandelbäumen"). The next number, a chorus
("Heil! Euryanthe"), with recitatives for Adolar, Lysiart, and the
King leads up to a vigorous trio ("Wohlan! Du kennst"). Euryanthe's
idyllic and touching cavatina ("Glöcklein im Thale") is a match in
beauty and tenderness for Adolar's romanza. The recitative which
follows introduces a sentimental aria for Eglantine ("O mein Leid ist
unermessen"), leading to a duet with Euryanthe ("Unter ist mein Stern
gegangen"). A scena for Eglantine, characterized by all the hatred and
fury of jealousy, introduces the finale, which consists of a vigorous
chorus ("Jubeltöne") accompanying Euryanthe's solo ("Fröhliche
Klänge").
The second act opens with a powerful recitative and aria for Lysiart
("Wo berg ich mich"), which is full of passion. A duet of a menacing
and sombre character between Lysiart and Eglantine ("Komm denn unser
Leid zu rächen") stands out in gloomy contrast with Adolar's aria
("Wehen mir Lüfte Ruh'") and the duet with Euryanthe ("Hin nimm die
Seele mein"), so full of grace and tenderness. They lead up to the
finale, a grand quartet ("Lass mich empor zum Lichte"), with powerful
chorus accompaniment.
The last act opens with the serpent episode, with characteristic
music, and a recitative scene between Euryanthe and Adolar leads up to
a pathetic cavatina for Euryanthe ("Hier am Quell wo Weiden stehn").
The ringing notes of the horns behind the scenes announce the approach
of the King's party, who sing a fresh and sonorous hunting chorus
("Die Thale dampfen"). The remaining numbers are a duet for Euryanthe
and the King with chorus ("Lasst mich hier in Ruh' erblassen"), a
lovely and melodious aria with chorus for Euryanthe ("Zu ihm"), a
bright wedding-march and scene with chorus, and a duet for Adolar and
Lysiart with chorus, leading to the grand quintet and chorus which
bring the opera to a close.
APPENDIX.
A work of this kind, by whomsoever written, must be somewhat arbitrary
in its selection of THE STANDARD OPERAS; and the writer has often
found it difficult to say where the line should be drawn,--what
excluded and what admitted. In addition to the operas treated of,
there are others, without a mention of which such a work as this would
scarcely be considered complete; and a list of these is herewith
submitted, together with the dates of their first performance. Many of
these are familiar to the public by their past reputation, while
others still hold the stage in Europe. Others have never been given
out of the native country of their composers; and still others, like
those of Mr. Sullivan, are in reality operettas, and cannot be classed
as standard, although their popularity is extraordinary.
ADAM - Le Postilion de Longjumeau (1835).
AUBER - Le Cheval de Bronze (The Bronze Horse) (1835); L'Ambassadrice
(1836); Le Domino Noir (The Black Domino) (1837); Zanetta (1840);
Manon Lescaut (1856).
BALFE - Enchantress (1845); Satanella (1858); Puritan's Daughter
(1861); The Talisman (1863).
BENEDICT - The Lily of Killarney (1862).
CORDER - Nordisa (1887).
DONIZETTI - Polinto (1840); Linda (1842); Maria di Rohan (1843); Don
Sebastian (1843); Gemma di Vergi (1845).
FLOTOW - L'Ombre (1869).
GOETZ - Francesca von Rimini (1874); The Taming of the Shrew (1874).
GOLDMARK - The Queen of Sheba (1875); Merlin (1886); Cricket on the
Hearth (1896).
GOMEZ - Il Guarany (1870).
GOUNOD - Polyeucte (1878).
HALEVY - L'Éclair (1835).
HEROLD - Zampa(1831); Pré aux Clercs(1832).
ISOUARD - Joconde (1814).
KREUTZER - Das Nachtlager in Granada (1834).
LEONCAVALLO - I Medici (1893).
MARCHETTI - Ruy Blas (1870).
MARSCHNER - Der Vampyr (1828); Hans Heiling (1833).
MASCAGNI - L'Amico Fritz (1892); I Rantzau (1892); Silvano(1895);
Guglielmo Ratcliff (1895).
MASSË - La Reine Topaze (1856); Paul et Virginie (1876).
MASSENET - Le Roi de Lahore (1877); Manon Lescaut (1884); Le Cid
(1886); Esclarmonde (1889).
NICOLAI - Merry Wives of Windsor (1849).
PACINI - Saffo (1840).
PLANQUETTE - The Bells of Corneville (1877).
PONCHIELLI - La Gioconda (1876).
RICCI - Crispino (1850).
ROSSINI - La Gazza Ladra (1817); Moses in Egypt (1818).
RUBINSTEIN - Dimitri Donskoi (1852); The Demon (1875); Feramors
(1863).
SAINT SAENS - Le Timbre d'Argent (1877); Étienne Marcel (1879); Henry
VIII. (1883); Proserpine (1887).
STRAUSS - Indigo (1871); Die Fledermaus (The Bat) (1872); Der Lustige
Krieg (The Merry War) (1875).
SULLIVAN - Trial by Jury (1875); The Sorcerer (1877); Pinafore (1878);
Pirates of Penzance (1880); Patience (1881); Iolanthe (1882); The
Princess (1883); The Mikado (1885); Ruddygore (1887); The Yeomen of
the Guard (1888); King of Barataria (1889); Hesse Halbpfennig (1896).