The first performance of this highly interesting little opera took place in Dresden in February 1894 and awakened the interest of every music lover in the hitherto quite unknown composer. Scenery and Music are of the colouring now common to modern composers, for whom unfortunately Mascagni is still the God, at whose shrine they worship.
The scene is laid in a Bulgarian village at the foot of the Schipka-Pass. Marga the heroine, a Roumanian peasant-girl has had a sister Petrissa, who, suffering cruel wrong at the hands of Vasil Kiselow, has cursed her seducer and sought deathin the waves. Marga, who had vowed to avenge her sister, is wandering through the world in vain search of Vasil. When the curtain opens she has just reached the village, where Vasil occupies the most auspicious position of Judge. Thoroughly exhausted she sinks down at the foot of a cross and falls asleep.
Vasil's son Manal, finding her thus, detects a wonderful likeness between the sleeping beauty and a picture, which he had found some time ago in the miraculous Sabor Cave, and which for him is the ideal of love and beauty.—This picture, a likeness of Petrissa had been hung there by Vasil in order to exorcise the curse of the unhappy virgin, but Manal has no knowledge of his father's misdeed.
When Marga awakes, the young people of course fall in love with each other, and Marga discovers too late, that Manal is the son of her sister's destroyer. Hesitating between love and her vow of vengeance she wildly reproaches Vasil who falls at her feet in deep contrition beseeching her forgiveness, which she grants at last.—Full of penitence he relinquishes his property to the young people, and exhorting Manal to be a just and clement Judge, he betakes himself to the mountains, resolved to join in the war against the Turks.
The subject of this piece is taken from the first part of Goethe's greatest drama—"Faust".
Faust, a celebrated old Doctor, is consumed by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but, having already lived through a long life devoted to the acquirement of learning and to hard work as a scholar, without having his soul-hunger appreciably relieved, is dissatisfied and in his disappointment wishes to be released from this life, which has grown to be a burden to him. At this moment Mephistopheles, the incarnation of the Evil One, appears and persuades him to try life in a new shape. The old and learned Doctor has only known it in theory, Mephisto will now show it to him in practice and in all the splendor of youth and freshness. Faust agrees, and Mephisto endows him with youth and beauty. In this guise he sees earth anew. It is Easter-time, when all is budding and aglow with freshness and young life and on such a bright spring-day he first sees Margaretha and at once offers her his arm.
But this lovely maiden, pure and innocent, and well guarded by a jealous brother, named Valentin, refuses his company somewhat sharply.—Nevertheless she cannot help seeing the grace and good bearing of the fine cavalier, and the simple village-maiden is inwardly pleased with his flattery. A bad fate wills it, that her brother Valentin, who isa soldier, has to leave on active service and after giving many good advices and warnings for his beautiful sister's wellfare he goes and so Mephisto is able to introduce Faust to the unprotected girl by means of a message, which he is supposed to have received for an old aunt of Margaretha's "Frau Marthe Schwertlein". This old gossip, hearing from Mephisto that her husband has been killed in battle, lends a willing ear to the flatteries of the cunning Devil; and Margaretha is left to Faust, who wins her by his love and easy manners. She is only a simple maiden, knowing nothing of the world's ways and wiles, and she accepts her lover's precious gifts with childish delight.
By and bye, her brother Valentin returns victorious from the war, but alas! too late! He challenges his sister's seducer; Mephisto however directs Faust's sword, and the faithful brother is much against Faust's own will slain, cursing his sister with his last breath.
Now Margaretha awakes to the awful reality of her situation and she shrinks from her brother's murderer. Everybody shuns her, and she finds herself alone and forsaken. In despair she seeks refuge in church, but her own conscience is not silenced; it accuses her more loudly than all the pious songs and prayers. Persecuted by evil spirits, forsaken and forlorn, Margaretha's reason gives way, and she drowns her new-born child.
Meanwhile Mephisto has done everything to stifle in Faust the pangs of conscience. Faust neverwills the evil, he loves Margaretha sincerely, but the bad spirit urges him onward. He shows him all the joys and splendors of earth, and antiquity in its most perfect form in the person of Helena, but in the midst of all his orgies Faust sees Margaretha. He beholds her, pale, unlike her former self, in the white dress of the condemned, with a blood-red circle round the delicate neck. Then he knows no rest, he feels that she is in danger, and he bids Mephisto save her.
Margaretha has actually been thrown into prison for her deed of madness and now the executioner's axe awaits her. She sits on the damp straw, rocking a bundle, which she takes for her baby, and across her poor wrecked brain there flit once more pictures of all the scenes of her short-lived happiness. Then Faust enters with Mephisto, and tries to persuade her to escape with them. But she instinctively shrinks from her lover, loudly imploring God's and the Saint's pardon. God has mercy on her, for, just as the bells are tolling for her execution; she expires, and her soul is carried to Heaven by angels, there to pray for her erring lover. Mephisto disappears into the earth.
This charming opera finally established the renown of its composer, who had first found his way to public favor through "Stradella".—Itranks high among our comic operas, and has become as much liked as those of Lortzing and Nicolai.
Not the least of its merits lies in the text, which Friedrich worked out dexterously, and which is amusing and interesting throughout.
Lady Harriet Durham, tired of the pleasures and splendours of Court, determines to seek elsewhere for a pastime, and hoping to find it in a sphere different from her own, disguises herself and her confidant Nancy as peasant-girls, in which garb they visit the Fair at Richmond, accompanied by Lord Tristan, who is hopelessly enamoured of Lady Harriet and unwillingly complies with her wish to escort them to the adventure in the attire of a peasant.—They join the servant-girls, who are there to seek employment, and are hired by a tenant Plumkett and his foster-brother Lionel, a youth of somewhat extraordinary behaviour, his air being noble and melancholy and much too refined for a country-squire, while the other, though somewhat rough, is frank and jolly in his manner.
The disguised ladies take the handsel from them, without knowing that they are bound by it, until the sheriff arrives to confirm the bargain. Now the joke becomes reality and they hear that they are actually hired as servants for a whole year.
Notwithstanding Lord Tristan's protestations, the ladies are carried off by their masters, who know them under the names of Martha and Julia.
In the second act we find the ladies in the company of the tenants, who set them instantly towork. Of course they are totally ignorant of household-work, and as their wheels will not go round, Plumkett shows them how to spin. In his rough but kind way he always commands and turns to Nancy, with whom he falls in love, but Lionel only asks softly when he wishes anything done. He has lost his heart to Lady Harriet and declares his love to her. Though she is pleased by his gentle behaviour, she is by no means willing to accept a country-squire and wounds him by her mockery. Meanwhile Plumkett has sought Nancy for the same purpose, but she hides herself and at last the girls are sent to bed very anxious and perplexed at the turn their adventure has taken. But Lord Tristan comes to their rescue in a coach and they take flight, vainly pursued by the tenants.—Plumkett swears to catch and punish them, but Lionel sinks into deep melancholy, from which nothing can arouse him.
In the third act we meet them at a Court-hunt, where they recognize their hired servants in two of the lady-hunters. They assert their right, but the Ladies disown them haughtily, and when Lionel, whose reason almost gives way under the burden of grief and shame, which overwhelms him at thinking himself deceived by Martha, tells the whole story to the astonished Court, the Ladies pronounce him insane and Lord Tristan sends him to prison for his insolence, notwithstanding Lady Harriet and Nancy's prayer for his pardon.
Lionel gives a ring to Plumkett, asking himto show it to the Queen, his dying father having told him that it would protect him from every danger.
In the fourth act Lady Harriet feels remorse for the sad consequences of her haughtiness. She visits the prisoner to crave his pardon. She tells him that she has herself carried his ring to the Queen and that he has been recognized by it as Lord Derby's son, once banished from Court, but whose innocence is now proved.
Then the proud Lady offers hand and heart to Lionel, but he rejects her, believing himself duped. Lady Harriet, however who loves Lionel, resolves to win him against his will. She disappears, and dressing herself and Nancy in the former peasant's attire, she goes once more to the Fair at Richmond, where Lionel is also brought by his friend Plumkett. He sees his beloved Martha advance towards him, promising to renounce all splendors and live only for him; then his melancholy vanishes; and he weds her, his name and possessions being restored to him, while Plumkett obtains the hand of pretty Nancy, alias Julia.
This opera carries us back to the middle of the 16th century and the persons whom we meet are all historical.
Amongst the tradesmen, whose rhyme-making has made them famous, Hans Sachs, the shoemaker is the most conspicuous.
The music is highly original, though not precisely melodious and is beautifully adapted to its characteristically national subject.
In the first act we see St. Catharine's church in Nüremberg, where Divine Service is being celebrated, in preparation for St. John's Day. Eva, the lovely daughter of Master Pogner the jeweller, sees the young knight Walter Stolzing, who has fallen in love with Eva, and who has sold his castle in Franconia to become a citizen of Nüremberg. She tells him that her hand is promised to the winner of the prize for a master-song, to be sung on the following morning.
We are now called to witness one of those ancient customs still sometimes practiced in old German towns. The master-singers appear, and the apprentices prepare everything needful for them. Walter asks one of them, called David, an apprentice of Sachs, what he will have to do in order to compete for the prize. He has not learnt poetry as a profession like those worthy workmen, and David vainly tries to initiate him into their old-fashioned rhyming. Walter leaves him, determined to win the prize after his own fashion.
Pogner appears with Beckmesser the clerk, whom he wishes to have as son-in-law. Beckmesser is so infatuated that he does not doubt of his success. Meanwhile Walter comes up to them,entreating them to admit him into their corporation as a master-singer.
Pogner consents, but Beckmesser grumbles, not at all liking to have a nobleman among them.—When all are assembled, Pogner declares his intention of giving his daughter to the winner of the master-song on the day of St John's festival, and all applaud his resolution. Eva herself may refuse him, but never is she to wed another than a crowned master-singer. Sachs, who loves Eva as his own child, seeks to change her father's resolution, at the same time proposing to let the people choose in the matter of the prize, but he is silenced by his colleagues. They now want to know where Walter has learnt the art of poetry and song, and as he designates Walter von der Vogelweide and the birds of the forest, they shrug their shoulders.
He begins at once to give a proof of his art, praising Spring in a song thrilling with melody. Beckmesser interrupts him; he has marked the rhymes on the black tablet, but they are new and unintelligible to this dry verse-maker, and he will not let them pass. The others share his opinion; only Hans Sachs differs from them, remarking that Walter's song, though new and not after the old use and wont rules of Nüremberg, is justified all the same, and so Walter is allowed to finish it, which he does with a bold mockery of the vain poets, comparing them to crows, oversounding a singing-bird. Sachs alone feels that Walter is a true poet.
In the second act David the apprentice tells Magdalene, Eva's nurse, that the new singer did not succeed, at which she is honestly grieved, preferring the gallant younker for her mistress, to the old and ridiculous clerk. The old maid loves David; she provides him with food and sweets and many are the railleries which he has to suffer from his companions in consequence.
The evening coming on we see Sachs in his open work-shop; Eva, his darling, is in confidential talk with him. She is anxious about to-morrow, and rather than wed Beckmesser she would marry Sachs, whom she loves and honors as a father. Sachs is a widower, but he rightly sees through her schemes and resolves to help the lovers.
It has now grown quite dark, and Walter comes to see Eva, but they have not sat long together, when the sounds of a lute are heard.
It is Beckmesser trying to serenade Eva, but Sachs interrupts him by singing himself and thus excites Beckmesser's wrath and despair. At last a window opens, and Beckmesser, taking Magdalene for Eva addresses her in louder and louder tones, Sachs all the time beating the measure on a shoe. The neighboring windows open, there is a general alarm, and David, seeing Magdalene at the window apparently listening to Beckmesser, steals behind this unfortunate minstrel and begins to slap him. In the uproar which now follows, Walter vainly tries to escape from his refuge under the lime-tree, but Sachs comes to his rescue, and takes him intohis own work-shop, while he pushes Eva unseen into her father's house, the door of which has just been opened by Pogner.
In the third act we find Sachs in his room. Walter enters, thanking him heartily for the night's shelter. Sachs kindly shows him the rules of poetry, encouraging him to try his luck once more. Walter begins and quite charms Sachs with his love-song. After they have left the room, Beckmesser enters, and reading the poetry, which Sachs wrote down, violently charges the shoemaker with wooing Eva himself. Sachs denies it and allows Beckmesser to keep the paper. The latter who has vainly ransacked his brains for a new song, is full of joy, hoping to win the prize with it.
When he is gone, Eva slips in to fetch her shoes, and she sees Walter stepping out of his dormitory in brilliant armor. He has found a third stanza to his song; which he at once produces.—They all proceed to the place where the festival is to be held and Beckmesser in the first to try his fortunes, which he does by singing the stolen song. He sadly muddles both melody and words, and being laughed at, he charges Sachs with treachery, but Sachs quietly denies the authorship, pushing forward Walter, who now sings his stanzas, inspired by love and poetry. No need to say that he wins the hearer's hearts as he has won those of Eva and Sachs, and that Pogner does not deny him his beloved daughter's hand.
The young composer has hitherto been little heard of by the public, though he has a good name in the musical world, as he had already written an opera called "Ramiro", which was put on the stage in Leipsic and excited considerable controversy among his admirers and his opponents. Lindner then left Leipsic for Weimar, where he studied zealously and composed the above-mentioned opera which was at once accepted on the small but celebrated stage of this town and has now appeared on the greater one of Dresden. This opera is half romantic half lyric, neither does it lack the humorous elements. It abounds in melody, a great rarity in our times, and the romance (Lied) is its best part.
Though the music is not precisely overpowering, it is very sweet and pleasing; one sees that a great talent has been at work, if not a genius.
The libretto is very nice on the whole, in some parts even charmingly poetical and melodious.
The scene is laid in an Earldom on the Rhine.
The master-thief Wallfried, a young nobleman, who ten years before had been put into a convent as younger son, has fled from it, and has since then been the companion of roving minstrels and Bohemians. Having heard of his elder brother's death, he comes home to claim his rights. There he sees Waldmuthe, the only daughter of CountBerengar, the Seigneur of the Earldom. As her features are as sweet as her voice, and as the father guards his treasures better than his daughter, Wallfried falls in love with her, and after artfully robbing her of her necklace, he even steals a kiss from her rosy lips. At first she reproaches him, but at last willingly leaves her ornament in his hands, which he keeps as a token of seeing her again.
At a fair, where Wallfried for the last time makes merry with his companions and sings to them the song of the pretty Aennchen,—by the bye a pearl of elegance and delicacy,—he sees Count Berengar and his daughter, and at once reclaims his own name and castle as Heir von Sterneck from the Seigneur.—But Waldmuthe's companion, Hertha sees her mistress's chain on Wallfried's neck and as our hero will not tell how he came by it, he is considered a thief. His friend Marquard now pleads for him, intimating that he took the chain only to show his adroitness as a master-thief. Count Berengar hearing this, orders him to give three proofs of his skill. First he is to rob the Count of his dearest treasure, which is guarded by his soldiers and which then will be his own, secondly he is to steal the Count himself from his palace, and finally he must rob the Count of his own personality. Should he fail in one of these efforts, he is to be hanged.
These tests seem to be very difficult, but Wallfried promises to fulfill his task on the very same day.
In the second act Wallfried arrives with two friends at the Count's castle. All three are in pilgrim's garb and bring a beautiful wassail-horn to the Count in token of friendship from the Sire of Rodenstein. The sentry and the Count consider these pious guests harmless, and the Count, being a great amateur of good wine, drinks and sings with them and soon gets drunk. The roundelays are full of wit and humor and particularly Wallfried's song, with the charming imitation of the spinning-wheel in the orchestra, is of great effect.—At last one of the pilgrims intimates, that though the wine be good, they have drunk a far better at the clergyman's in the village. This seems incredible to the Count and he is willing to put it to the test. He goes with his guests out of his castle and so the second of his orders, to steal his own person, is already accomplished.
Wallfried however stays behind to rob the Count of his most valuable treasure, which he deems to be the young Countess herself. While the soldiers carefully guard the jewels and diamonds in the tower, Waldmuthe steps on her balcony and confides her love to the moon.—Wallfried, hearing her confession, easily persuades her to follow him, as she hopes thereby to save his life and so the first condition is likewise fulfilled.
In the third act the Bohemians (Wallfried's companions) have carried the Count into the forest, and having robbed him of his clothes, dress him in the clergyman's cassock. The Count, awakingfrom his inebriety, is quite confused. His misery after the debauch is most funnily and expressively depicted in the orchestration. His confusion increases, when the Bohemians, dressed as peasants, greet him as "Seigneur Pastor", and when even Benno, the warden of Sterneck calls him by this name,—for everybody is in the plot,—he storms and rages, but grows the more troubled. At last Wallfried makes his appearance in the mask of Count Berengar, speaking of his presumed daughter and of her love. Then the mists of the wine gather thicker around the Count's tortured brain, he repeats Wallfried's words and when alone says aloud "There goes Count Berengar, now I believe myself to be the pastor."—Thus too the third order is fulfilled; he is robbed of himself.
Waldmuthe, stealing up to him, roguishly laughing repeats the tests and now the Count at once becomes sober.—Of course he is in wrath at first and most unwilling to give his only child to one, who has passed part of his life with Bohemians. But Waldmuthe reminds him of his own youth, how audaciously he had won his wife, her mother, and how he had promised her to care for their daughter's happiness. The tender father cannot resist her touching and insinuating appeal, but resolves to try Wallfried's sincerity. When the latter reminds him, that he has only executed the Count's own orders, though in a somewhat different sense, Berengar willingly grants him the tide and domains of Sterneck, but refuses hisdaughter, telling him to choose instead his finest jewels. Wallfried haughtily turns from him to join his old comrades, and refuses name and heritage, which would be worthless to him without his bride. But the maiden is as noble as her lover; she rushes up to him, ready to brave her father's scorn as well as the world's dangers. Then the Count, persuaded of the young fellow's noble heart, folds him in his embrace and readily gives his benediction to the union.
This charming little work is one of the best semi-comic operas ever composed, from the time of its first representation in Paris until now it has never lacked success.
The libretto is founded on a true anecdote, and is admirably suited to the music.
The scene is laid in Paris in the year 1788.
The first act represents the merry wedding of Roger, a mason, with Henrietta, sister of Baptiste, a locksmith. A jealous old hag, Mistress Bertrand, who would fain have married the nice young man, is wondering, whence the poor mason has the money for his wedding, when suddenly a young nobleman, Léon de Mérinville, appears, greeting Roger warmly. He relates to the astonished hearers, that Roger saved his life, but would nottake any reward, nor tell his name. Roger explains that the nobleman put so much money into his pocket, that it enabled him to marry his charming Henrietta, but Mérinville is determined to do more for him. Meanwhile Roger tries to withdraw from the ball with his young wife; but Henrietta is called back by her relations according to custom.—Roger, being left alone, is accosted by two unknown men, who, veiling his eyes, force him to follow them to a spot unknown to him, in order to do some mason-work for them. It is to the house of Abdallah, the Turkish ambassador, that he is led. The latter has heard that his mistress Irma, a young Greek maiden, is about to take flight with a French officer, who is no other than de Mérinville.
The lovers are warned by a slave, named Rica, but it is too late; Abdallah's people overtake and bind them. They are brought into a cavern, the entrance to which Roger is ordered to mure up. There, before him, he finds his friend and brother-in-law, Baptiste, who was likewise caught and is now forced to help him.
Recognizing in the officer his benefactor, Roger revives hope in him by singing a song, which Léon heard him sing at the time he saved his life.
Meanwhile Henrietta has passed a dreadful night, not being able to account for her husband's absence. In the morning Mistress Bertrand succeeds in exciting the young wife's sorrow and jealousy to a shocking degree, so that when Rogerat last appears, she receives him with a volley of reproaches and questions.
Roger, unhappy about Mérinville's fate and ignorant of where he has been in the night, scarcely listens to his wife's complaints, until Henrietta remarks that she well knows where he has been, Mistress Bertrand having recognized the carriage of the Turkish ambassador, in which he was wheeled away.
This brings light into Roger's brain and without more ado he rushes to the police, with whose help the poor prisoners are delivered. Roger returns with him to his wife's house, where things are cleared up in the most satisfactory manner.
The composer of this opera is known in the musical world as the author of many other fine works. He has given us several operas worthy of mention, "St. Andrew's Night", and "Thusnelda" among others, which were brought on the stage in Dresden some years ago.—
Melusine was first represented in Wiesbaden in 1874 with but small success.—Since then the opera has been rewritten and in part completely changed by the author, and in this new garb has found its first representation in the Dresden Opera-house, on the 23rd of May 1891.
Neither music nor libretto are strikingly original; both remind vividly of Wagner.—Nevertheless the opera met with warm applause, the principal part being splendidly rendered by Teresa Malten, and the mise en scène justifying the highest expectations. The beauty of the music lies principally in its coloring which is often very fine. Its best parts are the tender songs of the nymphs, those parts which lead into the realm of dream and of fairy-land.—Once only it soars to a higher dramatic style; it is in the second act (the one which has undergone an entire revision), when Bertram, the natural son, bewails his father.—
On the whole the weak libretto forbids every deeper impression. It is neither natural nor dramatic, and leaves our innermost feelings as cold as the watery element, from which it springs.
The scene is laid in a French Department on the Upper Rhine, where a Duchy of Lusignan can never have existed, about the time of the first Crusade.—The first act shows a forest, peopled by water-nymphs and fairies, who enjoy their dances in the light of the full-moon.—Melusine, their princess emerges from her grotto. While they sing and dance, a hunter's bugle is heard and Count Raymond of Lusignan appears with Bertram, his half-brother, seeking anxiously for their father.—Both search on opposite sides; Bertram disappears, while Raymond, hearing a loud outcry for help, rushes into the bushes whence it comes, not heeding Melusine's warning, who watches theproceedings half hidden in her grotto. The nymphs, foreseeing what is going to happen, break out into lamentations, while Melusine sings an old tale of the bloody strife of two brothers. She is already in love with Raymond, whose misfortune she bewails. When he hurries back in wild despair at having slain his father, whose life he tried to save from the tusks of a wild boar,—his sword piercing the old man instead of the beast, (a deed decreed by fate,)—he finds the lovely nymph ready to console him. She presents him with a draught from the magic well, which instantly brings him forgetfulness of the past (compare Nibelung's-ring).—The Count drinks it, and immediately glowing with love for the beautiful maiden wooes her as his wife. Melusine consents to the union under the condition that he pledges himself by a solemn oath, never to blame her, nor to spy her out, should she leave him in the full-moon nights. Raymond promises, and the sun having risen, the hunters find him in his bride's company. He presents their future mistress to them, and all render homage; only Bertram, struck to the heart by Melusine's loveliness, which is not for him, stands scornfully aside.
The first scene of the second act represents the sepulchral crypt of the Lusignan family. The old Duke has been found dead in the forest, and a choir of monks sings the Requiem. Bertram's mournful song and the lament of the women are of surpassing beauty; also the contrasting soundsfrom merry music of Raymond's wedding procession, now and then heard, cause an excellent musical effect. A hermit, Peter von Amiens, now entering comforts the widowed Duchess and warns them all of Melusine. He relates the legend of the water-fairy, who with sweet voice and mien entices and seduces human beings. The poor mother implores Heaven to save her son, while Bertram invokes Hell to avenge his father on the murderer.
The scene changes into the park belonging to Raymond's palace. Raymond and Melusine enjoy their nuptial bliss, until the rising of the full-moon awakes in Melusine the irresistible longing for her native element. Notwithstanding her husband's entreaties, she tears herself from him, and Raymond, mindful of his oath, retires. But Melusine's steps are interrupted by Bertram, who has tracked her and now declares his love. She scornfully rejects him, and he, enraged and jealous, threatens to betray Raymond, whose bloody sword he has found at the spot, where their father was murdered. But Melusine escapes to the gray temple in the garden and she prophesies, that Raymond will be happy as long as he keeps her faith, and then vanishes into the interior. Bertram remains motionless and stunned, until he hears Raymond's voice, who is waiting for his wife.—Spurred by every evil feeling of hate and envy he peremptorily asks Raymond to surrender all his possessions, his wife Melusine, even his life, deeming that his brother has forfeited every right through the murder.—ButRaymond oblivious of the deed through the effect of the magic draught, draws his sword, when his mother interferes. The Duchess repeats to her son the suspicion expressed by the hermit in regard to Melusine and Raymond anxiously calls for her to refuse the accusation.—But instead of his wife, sweet songs are heard from the temple, he forgets his oath, spies into its interior through a cleft and perceives the place of the nixies, with Melusine in their midst. Recognizing his fate, Raymond sinks back with a despairing cry.
In the third act the fishermen and women assemble on the banks of the Rhine at day-break, preparing for their daily work. They also know the Count's wife to be a mer-maid, and they sing a ballad of the water-nymph. Suddenly Melusine appears and they take flight. Melusine, finding the gates of her husband's castle closed, vainly calls for him.—His mother answers in his stead, charging her with witchcraft and refusing to admit her. Melusine, sure of Raymond's love undauntedly answers that only Raymond's want of faith could undo her.—In the meantime a herald announces the arrival of Crusaders with Peter von Amiens.—The latter exhorts Count Raymond to join the holy army in order to expiate his father's murder. Raymond is willing to go, when Melusine entreats him not to leave her. All present press around to insult her, only Bertram steps forth as her protector, once more showing Raymond's bloody sword, an act, which she alone understands. She kneelsto him, in order to save her husband, but Raymond, misunderstanding her movements, accuses her of secret intercourse with Bertram and in a fit of jealousy disowns her. Scarcely have the luckless words escaped his lips, than a violent sound of thunder is heard. Melusine curses the palace, and throws her husband's ring at his feet. She disappears in the Rhine, Bertram leaping after her, the stream overflows its banks, and a flash of lightning destroys the castle. Gradually the scene changes to the one of sylvan solitude in the first act. Raymond appears in pilgrim's garb to seek for his lost love (see Tannhäuser), Melusine once more emerges from her grotto to comfort him, but also to bring him death. Happy, he dies in her embrace, she buries him under water-lilies and returns to her watery domains.
This latest creation of the talented composer at once proved itself a success, when produced for the first time in the Opera-House in Vienna. Since then it has quickly passed to all the larger stages.
Merlin surpasses the Queen of Sheba in dramatic value and is equal to it in glowing coloring and brilliant orchestration. Goldmark is quite the reverse of Wagner. Though equally master of modern instrumentation, he abounds in melodies.Airs, duets and choruses meet us of surpassing beauty and sweetness. The text is highly fantastic, but interesting and poetical.
King Artus is attacked by the Saxons and almost succumbs.—In his need he sends Lancelot to Merlin, an enchanter and seer, but at the same time the King's best friend and a Knight of his table.
Merlin, offspring of the Prince of Hell and of a pure virgin, has power over the demons, whom however he only employs in the service of Heaven, his good mother's spirit protecting him. Merlin calls up a demon, whom he forces to blind the heathen Saxons, so that the Britons may be victorious. The demon obeys unwillingly and after Merlin's departure he calls up the fairy Morgana who knows all the secrets of the world. Morgana tells the demon, that if Merlin loves an earthly woman, his power will be gone and the demon resolves to tempt Merlin with the most beautiful woman on earth. He vanishes and the Britons return victorious, Merlin with prophetic insight recognizing the knight, who had betrayed his people to the Saxons. While he sings a passionate chant in honor of his King and his country, Vivien, a Duke's daughter, appears and they are at once attracted to each other. But Merlin vanquishes his love and refuses to accept the crown of oak-leaves, which his King offers him by the hand of Vivien. Then Artus takes his own crown and puts it on Merlin's curls.
The second act begins with a conspiracy headed by Modred, Artus' nephew, against his uncle. Lancelot openly accuses him of treason, and the King sends to Merlin, for judgment. But alas, Merlin's love has already blinded his understanding; he fails to detect the culpable Modred, and declares that he is not able to find fault in him. King Artus and his knights depart to seek new laurels, leaving the country in Modred's hands. Merlin stays in his sanctum, to where the demon now leads Vivien who has lost her way. The doors of the temple open by themselves at Vivien's request, and she finds a rosy, glittering veil, which, thrown into the air, causes various charming apparitions to present themselves.—When Merlin comes, the whole charm vanishes into air. Vivien tells him of her delightful adventure, but Merlin, frightened, informs her that who ever is touched by the veil, will be in the power of demons, chained to a rock for ever. Love conquers, and the short hour succeeding is for both filled with earth's greatest bliss. The news of Modred's treachery to King Artus awakes Merlin from his dream. He tears himself from his love, vowing to shun her for ever and to return to the well of grace. But Vivien, finding all her prayers vain, throws the fatal veil over him to hinder his flight. The dreadful effect becomes instantly apparent; the rose-garden disappears, mighty rocks enclose the vale on all sides, and Merlin is held down by burning chains.
While Vivien is consumed by self-reproach andpain, the fairy Morgana appears, telling her that love, which is stronger than death, can bring Merlin eternal grace. Vivien is led away by her maid, and Lancelot enters with the knights to seek Merlin's help against the treacherous Modred.
Seeing Merlin in this pitiful state, he sadly turns from him, but Merlin in despair promises his soul to the demon, if he but assist to deliver his King and his country. The demon breaks the chains and Merlin rushes with the knights into battle. During his absence Vivien prepares herself to receive her hero, but though she sees him return victorious he is wounded to death. The demon comes up to claim his victim, but Vivien, remembering Morgana's words, sacrifices herself piercing her heart at Merlin's feet. The demon disappears cursing heaven and earth, while Artus and his knights, though they sadly mourn for their hero, yet praise the victory of true love.
This charming opera has achieved the fame of its composer, of whom very little is known, except that he is the author of this really admirable musical composition, which is valued not only in Germany but all over Europe. Its overture is played by almost every orchestra, and the choruses and songs are both delightful and original. Asmay be gathered from the title, the whole amusing story is taken from Shakespeare's comedy.
Falstaff has written love-letters to the wives of two citizens of Windsor, Mrs. Fluth and Mrs. Reich. They discover his duplicity and decide to punish the infatuated old fool.
Meanwhile Mr. Fenton, a nice but poor young man asks for the hand of Miss Anna Reich. But her father has already chosen a richer suitor for his daughter in the person of silly Mr. Spärlich.
In the following scene Sir John Falstaff is amiably received by Mrs. Fluth, when suddenly Mrs. Reich arrives, telling them that Mr. Fluth will be with them at once, having received notice of his wife's doings. Falstaff is packed into a washing-basket and carried away from under Mr. Fluth's nose by two men, who are bidden to put the contents in a canal near the Thames, and the jealous husband, finding nobody, receives sundry lectures from his offended wife.
In the second act Mr. Fluth, mistrusting his wife, makes Falstaff's acquaintance, under the assumed name of Bach, and is obliged to hear an account of the worthy Sire's gallant adventure with his wife and its disagreeable issue. Fluth persuades Falstaff to give him a rendezvous, swearing inwardly to punish the old coxcomb for his impudence.
In the evening Miss Anna meets her lover Fenton in the garden, and ridiculing her two suitors, Spärlich and Dr. Caius, a Frenchman, shepromises to remain faithful to her love. The two others, who are hidden behind some trees, must perforce listen to their own dispraise.
When the time has come for Falstaff's next visit to Mrs. Fluth, who of course knows of her husband's renewed suspicion, Mr. Fluth surprises his wife and reproaches her violently with her conduct. During this controversy Falstaff is disguised as an old woman and when the neighbors come to help the husband in his search, they find only an old deaf cousin of Mrs. Fluth's who has come from the country to visit her. Nevertheless the hag gets a good thrashing from the duped and angry husband.
In the last act everybody is in the forest, preparing for the festival of Herne the hunter. All are masked, and Sir John Falstaff, being led on by the two merry wives is surprised by Herne (Fluth), who sends the whole chorus of wasps, flies and mosquitos on to his broad back. They torment and punish him, till he loudly cries for mercy. Fenton in the mask of Oberon has found his Anna in Queen Titania, while Dr. Caius and Spärlich, mistaking their masks for Anna's, sink into each other's arms, much to their mutual discomfiture.
Mr. Fluth and Mr. Reich, seeing that their wives are innocent and that they only made fun of Falstaff, are quite happy and the whole scene ends with a general pardon.