Reinecke of Leipzig is known both as excellent pianist and composer of no ordinary talent. The Dresden theatre has been one of the first to put the new opera upon its boards and with regard to the music, the expectations entertained have been fully realised.
It is true music, melodious and beautiful. Reinecke's musical language free, untrammelled and suggestive, only assumes decided form in the character of a song, or when several voices are united. The instrumentation is very interesting and the popular melody remarkably well characterized.
So he introduces for instance the wellknown popular song: "Kein Feuer, keine Kohle" (no fire, no coal can burn) with the most exquisite variations.
The libretto is not as perfect as the music, being rather improbable.
A little German Residential Capital of the last century forms the background to the picture.
Franz, the son of the Organist Ignaz Laemml, introduces himself to Dal Segno, the celebrated Italian singing-master as the Bohemian singer Howora. He obtains lessons from the capricious old man, who however fails to recognize in him the long-absent son of his old enemy. Cornelia, Dal Segno's daughter however is not so slow in recognizing the friend of her childhood, who loves her and has all her love, as we presently learn. Franz has only taken the name of Howora, in order to get into favor with the maiden's father, an endeavour in which he easily succeeds owing to his musical talents.
Meanwhile the Prince is determined to have an opera composed from Ovid's metamorphoses. He has chosen Pyramus and Thisbe, but as the Princess is of a very gay disposition, a request is made that the tragedy have a happy solution, a whim which puts old pedantic Laemml quite out of sorts.
In the second act Louis, one of the princely lackeys, brings a large cracknel and huge paper-cornet of sweets for Cornelia, whom he courts and whose favor he hopes in this way to win.
When he is gone, Dal Segno's sister Julia, lady's maid to the Princess, enters with birthday-presents for her niece Cornelia, and among the things which attract her attentions sees the cracknel, beside which she finds a note from her own faithless lover Louis. Filled with righteous indignation she takes it away.
Cornelia stepping out to admire herbirthday-presents, meets Franz, and after a tender scene, the young man tells his lady-love, that he has been fortunate enough to invent for his father a happy issue to the tragedy of Pyramus and Thisbe, and that they may now hope the best from the grateful old master.
Meanwhile good old Laemml himself appears to ask his old enemy Dal Segno to give singing-lessons to his dear son. The Italian teacher is very rude and ungracious, Laemml's blood rises also and a fierce quarrel ensues, which is interrupted by the arrival of the Prince. Having heard their complaints, he decides that the quarrel is to be settled by a singing competition in which Howora, Dal Segno's new and greatly praised pupil, and Franz, Laemml's son, are to contest for the laurels. Both masters are content and decide on a duet for tenor and soprano. This is a happy choice and Franz, who with Cornelia has heard everything, causes his lady-love to disguise herself, in order to play the part of Franz, while he decides to appear as Howora.
In the third act the Princess receives old Laemml, who comes to tell her, that he has complied with her wishes as to the happy issue of the tale and confides to her his son's secret, that Franz and Howora are one and the same person.—The gracious Princess promises her assistance, and Laemml leaves her very happy, dancing and merry-making with the Prince's fool.—
In the evening Louis finds Julia attired inCornelia's dress, and believing her to be her niece, he places a ring on her finger and once more pledges his faith to his old love.
The two singers perform their duet so perfectly, that Laemml, uncertain who will obtain the prize begs for a solo. Each-one then sings a popular song (Volkslied), and all agree that Howora has triumphed. The happy victor is crowned with the laurels. But the Princess, touched by the sweet voice of the other singer puts a rose-wreath on his brow. When the cap is taken off, Dal Segno perceives that the pretended Franz has the curls of his own daughter.—Howora being presented to him as Laemml's son, he can do no other than yield. He embraces old Laemml and gives his benediction to the lovers.
This composition might rather be called a Vaudeville with musical accompaniment, than an opera. The music is not above mediocrity, though we find many pleasing and even exquisite melodies in it. That it has held its present place on the stage for the past forty years is due principally to its excellent libretto, which is full of comical and ingenious situations. The principal role is given to Carlo Broschi. He is no other than the famoussinger Farinelli, who as a matter of fact did heal a Spanish King from madness, though it was not Ferdinand IV, but his predecessor Philip V, the husband of Elizabeth of Ferrara. Notwithstanding these anachronisms the libretto ranks with the best.
Carlo Broschi has placed his only sister Casilda in a convent near Madrid, to save her from the persecutions of the clergy, who have been trying for reasons of their own to give the beautiful maiden to the King. Casilda confesses to her brother that she is in love with an unknown cavalier, who entertains a like passion for her, but Carlo, a poor minstrel, considers that his sister, a milliner, does not stand high enough in the social scale to permit a lawful union with a nobleman.
Carlo meets the King accidentally. He has fallen into deep melancholy, and Carlo succeeds in cheering him by singing an old romance, which he learnt from his mother. Both King and Queen are full of gratitude, and Carlo soon finds himself at court and loaded with honors. In his new position he meets with Raphael d'Estuniga, Casilda's lover.
In despair at having lost his lady-love he is about to appeal to the Devil for help, when Carlo appears, presenting himself as Satan. He promises his help on condition that Raphael shall give him one half of all his winnings. This is a condition easily accepted, and Raphael is made a Court Official through Carlo's influence.
Meanwhile the clergy vainly try to ensnare the King again; Carlo is like his better self; hedisperses his Sire's melancholy by singing to him and rekindles his interest in government.
Raphael, feeling quite secure in his league with the Devil, begins to play; he is fortunate, but Carlo never fails to claim the share, which is willingly surrendered to him.
All at once Casilda appears on the scene to put herself under the protection of her brother, the priests having found out her refuge. She recognizes the King, and tells her brother that it was he, to whom she was taken against her will. The King believes her to be a ghost and his reason threatens to give way, but Carlo assures him that the girl is living. The Queen, who knows nothing of her husband's secret, here interrupts the conversation and bids Carlo follow her.
Meanwhile Raphael and Casilda have an interview, but the King comes suddenly upon them and at once orders Raphael to be put to death, the latter having failed in the reverence due to his Sovereign. Raphael however trusting in the Devil's help does not let his spirits sink and Carlo actually saves him by telling the King, that Casilda is Raphael's wife.
But the Grand-Inquisitor succeeds in discovering this untruth, and in exciting the King's anger against his favorite. Carlo, much embarrassed, obtains an interview with the King, and confessing the whole truth assures him, that the Queen knows as yet nothing and implores him to give his thoughts and his affections once more to her and to his country.The King, touched to generosity, gives his benediction to the lovers, together with a new title for Raphael, who is henceforth to be called Count of Puycerda. Now at last Raphael learns that the so-called Devil is his bride's brother, who tells him that this time his share lies in making two lovers happy, a share which gives him both pleasure and content.
This opera is essentially Spanish. The music throughout has a southern character and is passionate and original to a high degree.
Carmen, the heroine is a Spanish gipsy, fickle and wayward, but endowed with all the wild graces of her nation. She is adored by her people, and so it is not to be wondered at, that she has many of the stronger sex at her feet. She is betrothed to Don José, a brigadier of the Spanish army; of course he is one out of many; she soon grows tired of him, and awakens his jealousy by a thousand caprices and cruelties.
Don José has another bride, sweet and lovely, Micaëla, waiting for him at home, but she is forgotten as soon as he sees the proud gipsy.
Micaëla seeks him out, bringing to him the portrait and the benediction of his mother, ay, even her kiss, which she gives him with blushes. His tenderness is gone, however, so far as Micaëla is concerned, as soon as he casts one look into thelustrous eyes of Carmen. This passionate creature has involved herself in a quarrel and wounded one of her companions, a laborer in a cigarette manufactory. She is to be taken to prison, but Don José lets her off, promising to meet her in the evening at an inn kept by a man named Lillas Pastia, where they are to dance the Seguedilla.
In the second act we find them there together, with the whole band of gipsies. Don José, more and more infatuated by Carmen's charms, is willing to join the vagabonds, who are at the same time smugglers. He accompanies them in a dangerous enterprise of this kind, but no sooner has he submitted to sacrifice love and honor for the gipsy, than she begins to tire of his attentions. José has pangs of conscience, he belongs to another sphere of society and his feelings are of a softer kind than those of nature's unruly child. She transfers her affections to a bull-fighter named Escamillo, another of her suitors, who returns her love more passionately. A quarrel ensues between the two rivals. Escamillo's knife breaks and he is about to be killed by Don José, when Carmen intervenes, holding back his arm. Don José, seeing that she has duped him, now becomes her deadly foe, filled with undying hatred and longing for revenge.
Micaëla, the tender-hearted maiden, who follows him everywhere like a guardian-angel, reminds him of his lonely mother, everybody advises him to let the fickle Carmen alone,—Carmen who never loved the same man for more than six weeks. Butin vain, till Micaëla tells him of the dying mother, asking incessantly for her son; then at last he consents to go with her, but not without wild imprecations on his rival and his faithless love.
In the fourth act we find ourselves in Madrid. There is to be a bull-fight; Escamillo, its hero, has invited the whole company to be present in the circus.
Don José appears there too, trying for the last time to regain his bride. Carmen, though warned by a fellow gipsy, Frasquita, knows no fear. She meets her old lover outside the arena, where he tries hard to touch her heart. He kneels at her feet, vowing never to forsake her and to be one of her own people, but Carmen, though wayward, is neither a coward nor a liar, and boldly declares that her affections are given to the bull-fighter, whose triumphs are borne to their ears on the shouts of the multitude. Almost beside himself with love and rage José seizes her hand and attempts to drag her away, but she escapes from him, and throwing the ring, José's gift, at his feet, rushes to the door of the arena.—He overtakes her however and just as the trumpets announce Escamillo's victory, in a perfect fury of despair he stabs her through the heart, and the victorious bull-fighter finds his beautiful bride a corpse.
The composer of this very brief opera is a young man, who has had a most adventurous life notwithstanding his youth. Son of a baker in Livorno, he was destined for the bar. But his love for music made him enter clandestinely into the Institute Luigi Cherubini, founded by Alfreddo Soffredini. When his father heard of this, he confined him in his chamber, until Pietro's uncle, Steffano, promised to care for him in future. Pietro now was enabled to study diligently. He composed at the age of 13 years a small Opera "In filanda", which was put on the stage by Soffredini. Another composition, on Schiller's poem "An die Freude" (To Joy), brought him money and Count Larderell's favor, who allowed him to study at his expense at the Conservatory at Milan. But Mascagni's ambition suffered no restraint, so he suddenly disappeared from Milan and turned up as musical Director of a wandering troupe. In Naples he grew ill, a young lady nursed him, both fell in love and she became his wife.—Hearing that Sonzogno offered a prize for the best opera, he procured himself a libretto, and composed the Cavalleria Rusticana in little more than a week, and—gained the prize.
Henceforward all of course were anxious tohear the music of the unknown artist, and lo—the opera was an immense success.
It cannot be called a masterpiece, yet it is certainly the offspring of genius, as fresh and as absolutely original, as it is highly dramatic.
The text, though retaining little of the exquisite beauty of the original drama, which ought to be read before hearing its fragments in the opera, assists the music a good deal. The wave of human passion sweeps over it, passion as it occurs in daily life, for the composition belongs to the realistic style, as far as it is based on truth and reality alone.
The true local color makes it doubly attractive.
The following are the very simple facts of the story, which takes place in a Sicilian village.
Turridu, a young peasant has loved and wooed Lola before entering military service. At his return he finds the flighty damsel married to the wealthy carrier Alfio, who glories in his pretty wife and treats her very well.—Turridu tries to console himself with another young peasant-girl, Santuzza, who loves him ardently, and to whom he has promised marriage.
The opera only begins at this point.
Lola, the coquette however cannot bear to know, that her former sweet-heart should love another woman. She flirts with him, and before the curtain has been raised after the overture, Turridu's love-song is heard for Lola, who grants him a rendez-vous in her own house.
This excites Santuzza's wildest jealousy. Shecomplains to Turridu's mother, who vainly tries to soothe her. Then she has a last interview with Turridu, who is just entering the church. She reproaches him first with his treachery, then implores him, not to forsake her and leave her dishonored.
But Turridu remains deaf to all entreaty, and flings her from him. At last, half mad through her lover's stubbornness Santuzza betrays him and Lola to Alfio, warning the latter, that his wife has proved false.—After church Alfio and Turridu meet in mother Lucia's tavern.—Alfio refusing to drink of Turridu's wine, the latter divines that the husband knows all. The men and women leave while the two adversaries after Sicilian custom embrace each-other, Alfio biting Turridu in the ear, which indicates mortal challenge.—Turridu, deeply repenting his folly, as well as his falsehood towards poor Santuzza, recommends her to his mother.—He hurries into the garden, where Alfio expects him;—a few minutes later his death is announced by the peasants, and Santuzza falls back in a dead swoon; with which the curtain closes over the tragedy.—
This opera, though lovely in its way, has never had the success, which the preceding Figaro and Don Juan attained, and this is due for the mostpart to the libretto. In the original text it really shows female fickleness, and justifies its title. But the more Mozart's music was admired, the less could one be satisfied with such a libretto. Schneider and Devrient therefore altered it and in their version the two female lovers are put to the test, but midway in the plot it is revealed to them that they are being tried—, with the result that they feign faithlessness, play the part out and at the close declare their knowledge, turning the sting against the authors of the unworthy comedy. The contents may be told shortly.
Don Fernando and Don Alvar are betrothed to two Andalusian ladies, Rosaura and Isabella.
They loudly praise their ladies' fidelity, when an old bachelor, named Onofrio, pretends that their sweet-hearts are not better than other women and accessible to temptation. The lovers agree to make the trial and promise to do everything which Onofrio dictates. Thereupon they announce to the ladies, that they are ordered to Havannah with their regiment, and after a tender leavetaking, they depart to appear again in another guise, as officers of a strange regiment. Onofrio has won the ladies-maid, Dolores, to aid in the furtherance of his schemes and the officers enter, beginning at once to make love to Isabella and Rosaura, but each, as was before agreed, to the other's affianced.
Of course the ladies reject them, and the lovers begin to triumph, when Onofrio prompts them to try another temptation. The strangers, mad withlove, pretend to drink poison in the young ladies' presence. Of course these tenderhearted maidens are much aggrieved; they call Dolores, who bids her mistresses hold the patients in their arms; then coming disguised as a physician, she gives them an antidote. By this clumsy subterfuge they excite the ladies' pity and are nearly successful in their foolish endeavours, when Dolores, pitying the cruelly tested women, reveals the whole plot to them.
Isabella and Rosaura now resolve to enter into the play. They accept the disguised suitors, and even consent to a marriage. Dolores appears in the shape of a notary, without being recognized by the men. The marriage-contract is signed, and the lovers disappear to return in their true characters, full of righteous contempt. Isabella and Rosaura make believe to be conscience-stricken, and for a long while torment and deceive their angry bridegrooms. But at last they grow tired of teasing, they present the disguised Dolores, and they put their lovers to shame by showing that all was a farce. Of course the gentlemen humbly ask their pardon, and old Onofrio is obliged to own himself beaten.
This charming little opera had even more success than Lortzing's other compositions; it isa popular opera in the best sense of the word. Lortzing ought to have made his fortune by it, for it was soon claimed by every stage. He had composed it for Christmas 1837 and in the year 1838 every street-organ played its principal melodies. But the directors paid miserable sums to the lucky composer. (F. e. a copy of the work cost him 25 thalers, while he did not get more than 30 to 50 thalers from the directors.)
The libretto was composed by Lortzing himself; he took it out of an old comedy.
Peter, Emperor of Russia, has taken service on the wharfs of Saardam as simple ship-carpenter under the assumed name of Peter Michaelow. Among his companions is another Peter, named Ivanow, a Russian renegade, who has fallen in love with Mary, the niece of the burgomaster Van Bett.
The two Peters being countrymen and fearing discovery, have become friendly, but Ivanow instinctively feeling his friend's superiority, is jealous of him, and Mary, a little coquette, nourishes his passion.
Meanwhile the ambassadors of France and England, each of whom wishes for a special connection with the Czar of Russia, have discovered where he must be, and both bribe the conceited simpleton Van Bett, who tries to find out the real Peter.
He assembles the people, but there are many Peters amongst them, though only two strangers. He asks them whence they come, then takes aside Peter Ivanow, cross-questioning him in vain as to what he wishes to know.
At last, being aware of Peter's love for Mary, he gives him some hope of gaining her hand, and obtains in exchange a promise from the young man, to confess his secret in presence of the foreign nobleman.—The cunning French ambassador, the Marquis de Chateauneuf, has easily found out the Czar and gained his purpose, while the phlegmatic English Lord, falsely directed by the burgomaster, is still in transaction with Ivanow. All this takes place during a rural festivity, where the Marquis notwithstanding the claims upon his attention finds time to court yet pretty Mary, exciting Ivanow's hate and jealousy. Ivanow with difficulty plays the role of Czar, which personage he is supposed to be as well by Lord Syndham as by Van Bett. He well knows that he deserves punishment, if he is found out on either side. The burgomaster, getting more and more confused, and fearing himself surrounded by spies and cheats, examines one of the strangers after the other, and is of course confounded to hear their high-flown names; at last he seizes the two Peters, but is deterred from his purpose by the two ambassadors. They are now joined by a third, the Russian General Lefort, who comes to call back his Sovereign to his own country. In the third act Van Bett has prepared a solemn demonstration of fealty for the supposed Czar, whom he still mistakes for the real one, while the real Czar has found means to go on board of his ship with the Marquis and Lefort.—Before taking farewell, he promises a pass-port to Ivanow, who is very dubious as to what will become ofhim. Meanwhile Van Bett approaches him with his procession to do homage, but during his long and confused speech cannon-shots are heard and an usher announces, that Peter Michaelow is about to sail away with a large crew. The back-ground opens and shows the port with the Czar's ship. Everybody bursts into shouts "Long live the Czar!" and Ivanow, opening the paper, which his high-born friend left to him, reads that the Czar grants him pardon for his desertion and bestows upon him a considerable sum of money.
Boieldieu is for the French almost what Mozart was for the German. This opera especially may be called classic, so deliberate and careful is its execution.
The "Lady in white" is the chef-d'oeuvre of all comic operas in French, as Mozart's Figaro is in German. The success of this opera, whose composer and whose poet were equally liked and esteemed in Paris was enormous, and since then it has never lost its attraction.
The scene is laid in Scotland, the subject being taken from Walter Scott's romance: "Guy Mannering".
George Brown, the hero of the opera, a young lieutenant in English service, visits Scotland. He is hospitably received by a tenant of the late Count Avenel, who has been dead for some years. Whenhe arrives, the baptism of the tenant's youngest child is just being celebrated, and seeing that they lack a godfather, he good-naturedly consents to take the vacant place.
Seeing the old castle of the Avenels, he asks for its history, and the young wife Jenny tells him that according to the traditions of the place it is haunted by a ghost, as is the case in almost every old castle. This apparition is called the "White Lady", but unlike other ghosts she is good, protecting her sex against fickle men. All the people around believe firmly in her and pretend to have seen her themselves. In the castle there exists a statue which bears the name of this benevolent genius, and in it the old Lord has hidden treasures. His steward Gaveston, a rogue, who has taken away the only son of the Count in the child's earliest days, brings the castle with all its acres to public sale, hoping to gain it for himself.
He has a charming ward, named Anna. It is she, who sometimes plays the part of the white Lady. She has summoned the young tenant Dickson, who is sincerely devoted to her, into the castle, and the young man though full of fear, yet dare not disobey the ghostly commands.
George Brown, thirsting for a good adventure, and disbelieving in the ghost-story, declares that he will go in Dickson's place.
In the second act George, who has found entrance into the castle, calls for the white Lady, who appears in the shape of Anna. She believes thatDickson is before her and she reveals her secret to him, imploring his help against her false guardian Gaveston, who means to rob the true and only heir of his property. She knows that the missing son of the Avenels is living, and she has given a promise to the dying Countess, to defend his rights against the rapacious Gaveston. George gives his hand to the pretended ghost in token of fidelity, and the warm and soft hand which clasps his, awakes tender feelings in him. On the following morning Dickson and his wife Jenny are full of curiosity about George's visit, but he does not breathe a word of his secret.
The sale of the castle as previously announced is to begin, and Dickson has been empowered beforehand by all the neighboring farmers, to bid the highest price, in order not to let it fall into the hands of the hateful Gaveston. They bid higher and higher, but at length Dickson stops, unable to go farther. Gaveston feels assured of his triumph, when George Brown, recalling his vow to the white Lady, advances boldly, bidding one thousand pounds more. Anna is beside him, in the shape of the spectre, and George obediently bids on, till the castle is his for the price of three hundred thousand pounds. Gaveston in a perfect fury, swears avenge himself on the adventurer, who is to pay the sum in the afternoon. Should he prove unable to do so, he shall be put into prison. George, who firmly believes in the help of his genius, is quietly confident, and meanwhile makes an inspection of the castle.Wandering through the vast rooms, dim recollections arise in him, and hearing the minstrel's song of the Avenels, he all at once remembers and finishes the romance, which he heard in his childhood.
The afternoon comes and with it Mac-Irton, the justice of peace. He wants the money, and George begs to await the white Lady, who promised her help. Anna appears, bringing the treasure of the Avenels hidden in the statue, and with them some documents, which prove the just claims of Edwin Count Avenel. This long lost Count she recognizes in George Brown, whose identity with the playmate of her youth she had found out the night before. Gaveston approaches full of wrath to tear aside the ghost's white veil, and sees his own ward, Anna.
The happy owner of castle and country holds firm to the promise which he gave the white Lady, and offers hand and heart to the faithful Anna, who has loved him from her childhood.
This opera of the great Russian musician has an entirely national character. The great features of Rubinstein's work are most fertile imagination and an immense power of expression, which however sometimes almost passes the permitted bounds, although the forms are perfectly mastered and the fanciful subject is well calculated to afford it roomfor play. It is taken from the celebrated poem of Lermontoff, and it treats of the devices, by which Satan seeks to ensnare the immortal souls on earth.
The plot is laid in Grusia in the Caucasus.
The first scene represents a wild and lonely country, in the raging storm voices are heard of good and bad spirits alternately. The Arch-Fiend appears, weary of everything, even of his power. He curses the world; in vain he is warned by the Angel of Light to cease his strife against Heaven; the Demon's only satisfaction lies in opposition to and battle with all that is loving and good.
He sees Tamara, daughter of Prince Gudal, who expects her bridegroom, the Prince of Sinodal, and full of admiration for her loveliness he wooes her. Tamara, frightened calls her companions and they all return to the castle, but the words of the stranger, whom she has recognized by the halo of light surrounding him, as a being from a higher world, vibrate in her ears: "Queen of my love, thou shalt be the Empress of Worlds."
The following scene shows Prince Sinodal, encamping for the night with his suite; the roughness of the way has delayed his coming to Tamara. Near the camp is a chapel, erected in memory of one of his ancestors, who was slain there by a ruffian and the Prince's old servant admonishes him to pray for his soul. To his destruction he postpones it till morning, for during his sleep the Demon brings up his enemies, the Tartars, and the Prince's caravan is robbed and he himself killed.
In the second act Tamara stands ready to receive her bridegroom, whose coming has been announced to her by a messenger.
Tamara's thoughts are with the stranger, though against her will, when an escort brings the dead body of Sinodal. While the poor bride is giving vent to her sorrow and her father seeks to comfort her by offering religious consolation, she again hears the voice of the Demon, whispering soft seductions to her. At last she feels that her strength is failing before a supernatural power, and so she begs her father to let her enter a monastery. After offering many objections he finally consents, for in truth his thoughts are only of avenging his children.
In the third act the Demon, who really loves Tamara, and regrets his wickedness, seeks to see her. The Angel of Light denies him the entrance, which however he finally forces. Passionately he invokes Tamara's pity and her love and she, rent by unutterable feelings implores Heaven's aid, but her strength gives way, and the Demon embraces and kisses her. At this moment the Angel of Light appears, and Tamara is about to hasten to him, when with a loud cry she sinks down lifeless. Satan has lost; despairing and cursing all, he vanishes and a thunder-bolt destroys the cloister, from amid the ruins of which
This is one of the most charming comic operas, which were ever written by this master. Graceful archness and elegance of style are its characteristics, and these lose nothing from the presence of a gay and easy temper which makes itself felt throughout. The same may be said of the libretto.
The plot is well worked out and entertaining. The scene is laid in Madrid in our century.
The Queen of Spain gives a masqued ball, at which our heroine Angela is present, accompanied by her companion Brigitta. There she is seen by Horatio di Massarena, a young nobleman, who had met her a year before at one of these balls and fell in love with, without knowing her.
This time he detains her, but is again unable to discover her real name, and confessing his love for her, he receives the answer, that she can be no more than a friend to him. Massarena detains her so long that the clock strikes the midnight-hour as Angela prepares to seek her companion. Massarena confesses to having removed Brigitta under some pretext, and Angela in despair cries out, that she is lost. She is in reality member of a convent, and destined to be Lady-Abbess, though she has not yet taken the vows. She is very highly connected, and has secretly helped Massarena to advance in his career as adiplomatist.—Great is her anxiety to return in her convent after midnight, but she declines all escort, and walking alone through the streets, she comes by chance into the house of Count Juliano, a gentleman of somewhat uncertain character, and Massarena's friend. Juliano is just giving a supper to his gay friends and Angela bribes his housekeeper Claudia, to keep her for the night. She appears before the guests disguised as an Arragonian waiting-maid, and charms them all, and particularly Massarena with her grace and coquetry. But as the young gentlemen begin to be insolent, she disappears, feeling herself in danger of being recognized. Massarena, discovering in her the charming black domino, is very unhappy to see her in such company.—Meanwhile Angela succeeds in getting the keys of the convent from Gil-Perez, the porter, who had also left his post, seduced by his love of gormandizing and had come to pay court to Claudia. Angela troubles his conscience and frightens him with her black mask, and flies. When she has gone, the house-keeper confesses that her pretended Arragonian was a stranger, by all appearance a noble lady, who sought refuge in Juliano's house.
In the third act Angela reaches the convent, but not without having had some more adventures. Through Brigitta's cleverness her absence has not been discovered. At length the day has come when she is to be made Lady-Abbess and she is arrayed in the attire suited to her future high office, when Massarena is announced to her.—He comes toask to be relieved from a marriage with Ursula, Lord Elfort's daughter, who is destined for him, and who is also an inmate of the convent, but whom he cannot love. Notwithstanding her disguise he recognizes his beloved domino, who, happily for both is released by the Queen from her high mission and permitted to choose a husband.—Of course it is no other, than the happy Massarena; while Ursula is consoled by being made Lady-Abbess, a position which well suits her ambitious temper.
This opera is one of the first of Verdi's. It was half forgotten, when being suddenly recalled to the stage it met with considerable success. The music is fine and highly dramatic in many parts.
The scene of action lies in Spain. Don Carlos, Crown-prince of Spain comes to the convent of St. Just, where his grand-father, the Emperor Charles the Fifth has just been buried. Carlos bewails his separation from his step-mother, Elizabeth of Valois, whom he loves with a sinful passion. His friend, the Marquis Posa reminds him of his duty and induces him to leave Spain for Flanders, where an unhappy nation sighs under the cruel rule of King Philip's governors.—Carlos has an interview with the Queen, but beside himself with grief he again declares his love, though having resolved only to ask for her intervention with the King, onbehalf of his mission to Flanders. Elizabeth asks him to think of duty and dismisses him. Just then her jealous husband enters, and finding her lady of honor, Countess Aremberg, absent, banishes the latter from Spain. King Philip favors Posa with his particular confidence, though the latter is secretly the friend of Carlos, who is ever at variance with his wicked father. Posa uses his influence with the King for the best of the people, and Philip, putting entire confidence in him, orders him to watch his wife.
The second act represents a fête in the royal gardens at Madrid, where Carlos mistakes the Princess Eboli for the Queen and betrays his unhappy love. The Princess, loving Carlos herself, and having nurtured hopes of her love being responded to, takes vengeance. She possesses herself of a casket in which the Queen keeps Carlos' portrait, a love-token from her maiden-years, and surrenders it to Philip. The King, though conscious of his wife's innocence, is more than ever jealous of his son, and seeks for an occasion to put him out of the way. It is soon found, when Carlos defies him at an autodafé of heretics. Posa himself is obliged to deprive Carlos of his sword, and the latter is imprisoned. The King has an interview with the Grand-Inquisitor, who demands the death of Don Carlos, asserting him to be a traitor to his country. As Philip demurs, the priest asks Posa's life as the more dangerous of the two. The King, who never loved a human being except Posa, thepure-hearted Knight, yields to the power of the church.
In the following scene Elizabeth, searching for her casket, is accused of infidelity by her husband. The Princess Eboli, seeing the trouble her mischievous jealousy has brought upon her innocent mistress, penitently confesses her fault and is banished from court. In the last scene of the third act Carlos is visited by Posa, who explains to him, that he has only imprisoned him in order to save him, and that he has announced to the King, that it was himself, Posa, who excited rebellion in Flanders. While they speak, Posa is shot by an arquebusier of the royal guard; Philip enters the cell to present his sword to Carlos, but the son turns from his father with loathing and explains his friend's pious fraud. While Philip bewails the loss of the best man in Spain, loud acclamations are heard from the people, who hearing that their prince is in danger desire to see him.
In the last act the Queen, who promised Posa to watch over Carlos, meets him once more in the convent of St. Just. They are surprised by the King, who approaches, accompanied by the Grand-Inquisitor, and into his hands the unhappy Carlos is at last delivered.