PARSIFAL.

Though Parsifal is never to be given on any stage except in Baireuth (by Wagner's express wish), it must find its place here, by dint of being the master's last and most perfect composition.

In Parsifal the heavenly greatness of the Christian idea of God, which is at the foundation of the legend of the holy Grail, finds grand expression. There scarcely exists another composition of such lofty and religious spirit, as finds expression in the Communion-scene. It is not possible to imagine a more vivid contrast than that between the saintly melodies and those of the fascinating fairies, which latter, glowing with poetry and ravishing music captivate all senses.

The contents are those of the ancient German legend. The first scene is laid in a forest on the grounds of the keepers of the Grail near Castle Monsalvat. Old Gurnemanz awakes two young Squires for their morning prayer, and bids twoKnights prepare a bath for the sick King Amfortas who suffers cruelly from a wound, dealt him by the sorcerer Klingsor, the deadly foe of the holy Grail. The Grail is a sacred cup, from which Christ drank at the last Passover and which also received his holy blood. Titurel, Amfortas' father has built the castle to shield it, and appointed holy men for its service. While Gurnemanz speaks with the Knights about their poor master's sufferings, in rushes Kundry, a sorceress in Klingsor's service, condemned to laugh eternally as a punishment for having derided Christ, while he was suffering on the cross. She it was who with her beauty seduced Amfortas, and deprived him of his holy strength, so that Klingsor was enabled to wring from the King his holy spear Longinus, with which he afterwards wounded him. Kundry is in the garb of a servant of the Grail; she brings balm for the King, who is carried on to the stage in a litter, but it avails him not: "a guileless fool" with a child's pure heart; who will bring back the holy spear and touch him with it, can alone heal his wound.

Suddenly a dying swan sinks to the ground, and Parsifal, a young knight, appears. Gurnemanz reproaches him severely for having shot the bird, but he appears to be quite ignorant of the fact that it was wrong, and, when questioned, proves to know nothing about his own origin. He only knows his mother's name "Herzeleid", (heart's affliction), and Kundry, who recognizes him, relates, that his father Gamuret perished in battle, and thathis mother reared him, a guileless fool, in the desert. When Kundry mentions that his mother is dead, and has sent her last blessing to her son, Parsifal is almost stunned by this, his first grief. Gurnemanz conducts him to the castle, where the Knights of the Grail are assembled in a lofty hall. Amfortas is laid on a raised couch, and from behind, Titurel's voice is heard, imploring his son to efface his guilt in godly works. Amfortas, writhing with pain, is comforted by the prophesy:

"By pity lightened, the guileless fool"—"Wait for him,—my chosen tool."

The Grail is uncovered, the blessing given, and the repast of love begins. Amfortas' hope revives, but towards the end his wound bursts out afresh. Parsifal, on hearing Amfortas' cry of agony clutches at his heart, without however understanding his own feelings.

The second act reveals Klingsor's magic castle.

Kundry, not as a demon now, but as a woman of imperious beauty, is awakened by Klingsor to seduce Parsifal. She yearns for pardon, for sleep and death, but she struggles in vain against the fiendish Klingsor.

The tower gradually sinks; a beautiful garden rises, into which Parsifal gazes with rapture and astonishment. Lovely maidens rush towards him, accusing him of having destroyed their lovers. Parsival surprised answers, that he slew them, because they checked his approach to their charms. But when their tenderness waxes hotter, he gentlyrepulses the damsels and at last tries to escape. He is detained however by Kundry, who tells him again of his beloved mother, and when Parsifal is sorrow-stricken at having forgotten her in his thoughtless rambles, she consoles him, pressing his lips with a fervent kiss. This rouses the dreamy youth, he awakes to his duty, he feels the King's spear-wound burning; the unconscious fool is a fool no longer, but conscious of his mission and distinguishing right from wrong. He calls to the Saviour to save him from a guilty passion, and at last he starts up, spurning Kundry. She tells him of her own crime, of Amfortas' fall and curses all paths and ways, which would lead him from her. Klingsor, appearing at her cry, flings the holy spear at Parsifal, but it remains floating over his head, and the youth, grasping it, destroys the magic by the sign of the cross.

In the third act Gurnemanz awakes Kundry from a death-like sleep, and is astonished to find her changed. She is penitent and serves the Grail. Parsifal enters from the woods. Gurnemanz recognizes and greets him, after his wanderings in search of the Grail which have extended over long years. Kundry washes his feet and dries them with her own hair. Parsifal, seeing her so humble, baptizes her with some water from the spring, and the dreadful laugh is taken from her; then she weeps bitterly. Parsifal, conducted to the King, touches his side with the holy spear and the wound is closed. Old Titurel, brought on the stage in hiscoffin, revives once more a moment, raising his hands in benediction. The Grail is revealed, pouring a halo of glory over all. Kundry, with her eyes fixed on Parsival, sinks dead to the ground, while Amfortas and Gurnemanz render homage to their new King.

This is a truly delightful musical composition and though unpretending and not on the level of Gounod's "Margaretha", it does not deserve to be forgotten.

The libretto is founded on the well-known legend.

In the first act Jupiter comes to Philémon's hut, accompanied by Vulkan to seek refuge from a storm, which the god himself has caused. He has come to earth to verify Mercury's tale of the people's badness, and finding the news only too true, besides being uncourteously received by the people around, he is glad to meet with a kindly welcome at Philémon's door.

This worthy old man lives in poverty, but in perfect content with his wife Baucis, to whom he has been united in bonds of love for sixty long years. Jupiter, seeing at once, that the old couple form an exception to the evil rule, resolves to spare them, and to punish only the bad folks. The gods partake of the kind people's simple meal, andJupiter, changing the milk into wine, is recognized by Baucis, who is much awed by the discovery. But Jupiter reassures her and promises to grant her only wish, which is, to be young again with her husband, and to live the same life. The god sends them to sleep, and then begins the intermezzo.

Phrygians are seen reposing after a festival, bacchants rush in and the wild orgies begin afresh. The divine is mocked and pleasure praised as the only god. Vulcan comes, sent by Jupiter to warn them, but as they only laugh at him, mocking Olympus and the gods, Jupiter himself appears to punish the sinners. An awful tempest arises, sending everything to rack and ruin.—

In the second act Philémon's hut is changed into a palace; he awakes to find himself and his wife young again. Jupiter, seeing Baucis' beauty, orders Vulkan to keep Philémon apart, while he courts her. Baucis though determined to remain faithful to her Philémon, feels nevertheless flattered at the god's condescension, and dares not refuse him a kiss. Philémon, appearing on the threshold sees it, and violently reproaches her and his guest, and though Baucis suggests who the latter is, the husband does not feel in the least inclined to share his wife's love even with a god. The first quarrel takes place between the couple, and Vulkan hearing it, consoles himself with the reflection that he is not the only one, to whom a fickle wife causes sorrow. Philémon bitterly curses Jupiter's gift; he wishes his wrinkles back, and with them hispeace of mind. Throwing down Jupiter's statue, he leaves his wife to the god. Baucis, replacing the image, which happily is made of bronze, sorely repents her behaviour towards her beloved husband. Jupiter finds her weeping, and praying that the gods may turn their wrath upon herself alone. The god promises to pardon both, if she is willing to listen to his love. She agrees to the bargain on the condition namely that Jupiter shall grant her a favor. He consents, and she entreats him to make her old again. Philemon, listening behind the door, rushes forward to embrace the true wife and joins his entreaties to hers. Jupiter, seeing himself caught, would fain be angry, but their love conquers his wrath. He does not recall his gift, but giving them his benediction, he promises never more to cross their happiness.

Thanks to the incessant endeavours of Weber's grandson and of Gustav Mahler, the gifted disciple of Weber, a real treasure in German music has been disinterred from the fragments of the past, thus long after its composer's death. It is a striking illustration of the universality of Weber's genius that aught like this should prove to have been written by him, for his manuscript is a fragmentof a comic opera of the best kind. Although only seven parts were completed by the composer himself, Mahler took the remaining ten mostly from Weber's other manuscripts. He completed them himself so adroitly, that the best musicians cannot distinguish Weber from Mahler. We owe a debt of gratitude to both composer and poet, who have performed this act of piety towards the great deceased and at the same time have preserved us real musical pearls. The text is well done, though not important enough for three acts; two would have been quite sufficient.

The first scene takes us into a little village in Spain, where a student, Don Gaston Piratos bids farewell to his fellows. He is a gay and gallant youth, whose money dwindles to a paltry sum before mine host's long account. But this cunning host has a charming daughter Ines, and light-hearted Gaston flirts with the damsel, his servant Ambrosio valiantly assisting him.

The Kater-romance sung by Ines is as gracefull as it is droll and effective.

Don Pinto de Fonseca now arrives on horseback. He is so corpulent, that he is scarcely able to dismount, and he excites the curiosity and amusement of all. Having called for food and drink, he tells Gaston, that he comes to marry a rich and noble lady, Donna Clarissa de Pacheco. Fonseca's father has once rendered a great service to Don Pantaleone Roiz de Pacheco, and in reward he destined his only child Clarissa for Fonseca'sson. This promising young knight has a letter of recommendation from his father. He is in perplexity as to his behaviour towards such a young lady and Gaston offers to instruct him therein. Ambrosio acts as bride, Gaston shows how she is to be courted and Don Pinto gawkishly imitates his teacher's gestures. This scene is most irresistibly comic. When wine and food are brought by Ines and her servants, Don Pinto so entirely absorbs himself in satisfying his hunger and thirst, that at last the wine gets the better of him. He falls asleep and Gaston, thinking it an injury to a noble lady to be wooed by such a clown, takes away old Fonseca's letter and departs with Ambrosio. Don Pinto is carried into the house on a grass-covered litter.

In the second act Don Pantaleone's servants are assembled in the ancestral hall, where their master announces to them the approaching arrival of Don Pinto, his daughter's future bridegroom. Donna Clarissa, who already loves Don Gomez Freiros, a knight of wealth, noble birth and bearing is in despair, as is also her lover, but Laura, her pretty maid promises to find ways and means to avert the dreaded marriage.

In the third act Laura and the servants are decorating the hall with flowers. The majordomo sends them away, proclaiming Don Pinto's arrival. All go except Laura, who hides behind a bosquet. Gaston, entering with Ambrosio sees all those preparations with wonder. Ambrosio detects Laura and according to his wont begins to court her.Gaston warns the damsel, and she entering into the joke mockingly quits them. Gay Ambrosio is consoling himself in a charming song of which the burden is girls' fickleness, when Don Gomez enters and touches Gaston's kind heart by the description of his love for Clarissa. Gaston tenders him Fonseca's letter, counselling Gomez to play the part of Don Pinto, for Don Pantaleone has never seen either of them. Gomez accepts the letter gratefully from the supposed Don Pinto and presents it to Don Pantaleone, who has entered with his daughter and his whole suite. Of course the father, struck by the knight's noble bearing, gives his consent to the union with his daughter and adds his benediction. But their joy is disturbed by the entrance of the real Don Pinto, who at once begins wooing in the manner he has practised with Don Gaston.

The ridiculous fellow is thought mad and is about to be turned out, when catching sight of Gaston, he loudly accuses him of treachery. Gaston however draws his sword and menaces Don Pinto, upon which the poor swain cries for mercy and is thereafter removed from the hall amidst the laughter of the whole chorus.

Imagine the assistant's astonishment, when Gaston declares, that they have turned out the true Don Pinto. Gomez believing himself betrayed challenges Gaston, and the father rages against the two pretenders. But Clarissa pleads and Gaston quietly shows to Don Pantaleone the contrastbetween the two suitors, while Gomez is obliged to acknowledge gratefully that he owes his lovely bride solely to Don Gaston's joke. So the lovers are united.

Without any preliminary introduction to the musical world Nessler wrote this opera and at once became, not only known, but a universal favorite; so much so that there is scarcely a theatre in Germany, in which this work of his is not now given.

The subject of the libretto is a most favorable one, like that of Nessler's later composition, "the Trumpeter of Saekkingen"; the principal personage Singuf, being particularly well suited for a first-rate stage hero.

Then Wolff's poetical songs are music in themselves, and it was therefore not difficult to work out interesting melodies, of which as a matter of fact we find many in this opera.

The scene of the following events is the old town of Hameln on the Weser in the year 1284. The citizens are assembled to hold council, as to how the rat-plague of the town is to be got rid of. No one is able to suggest a remedy when suddenly the clerk of the senate, Ethelerus, announces a stranger, who offers to destroy all the rats and mice in the place, solely by the might of his pipe.Hunold Singuf, a wandering Bohemian, enters and repeats his offer, asking one hundred Marks in silver as his reward and forbidding anybody listen or to be present, while he works his charm.

The senators comply with his request, promising him in addition a drink from the town-cellar, when the last rat shall have disappeared, which is to be when the moon is full.

In the following scene the Burgomaster's daughter Regina is with her old cousin Dorothea. She expects her bridegroom, the architect of the town and son of the chief magistrate, Heribert Sunneborn, who has just returned home from a long stay abroad. While the lovers greet each other, Ethelerus, who has wooed Regina in vain, stands aside greatly mortified.

The second act opens in an inn, where Hunold makes the people dance and sing to his wonderful melodies. There he first sees the maid, who has appeared to him in his dreams. She is Gertrud, a fishermaiden and: To look is to love—they are attracted to each other as by a magic spell. Wulf, the smith, who loves Gertrud, sees it with distrust, but Hunold begins to sing his finest songs. In the evening the lovers meet before Gertrud's hut, and full of anxious forebodings, she tries to turn him from his designs and is only half-quieted, when he assures her that no fiendish craft is at work and that he will do it for the last time.

In the third act Ethelerus holds council with magister Rhynperg as to the means, by which theycan best succeed in teasing and provoking the proud Sunneborn. Hunold enters, and agreeable to an invitation of theirs, sits down to drink a bottle of wine. They make him drink and sing a good deal, and he boasts of being able to make the maidens all fall in love with him, if he chooses. Rhynperg suggests that he must omit the Burgomaster's daughter Regina, and he succeeds in making Hunold accept a wager, that he will obtain a kiss from her before his departure.

The following night Hunold accomplishes the exorcism of the rats, which may be seen running towards him from every part of the town and precipitating themselves into the river. Unhappily, Wulf, standing in a recess, has seen and heard all and coming forward to threaten Hunold, the latter hurls his dagger after him, upon which Wulf takes flight.

In the fourth act the whole town is assembled to rejoice in its deliverance from the awful plague, but when Hunold asks for his reward, the Burgomaster tells him, that a so-called rat-king, a beast with five heads, has been seen in his (the Burgomaster's) cellar, to which complaint Hunold replies, that it is the smith's fault, who listened against his express prohibition. He promises to destroy the rat-king on the same day and once more claims his due, together with the promised parting gift, which he begs to be, not a drink of wine, but a kiss from Regina's lips. Of course everybody is astounded at his insolence, and the angryBurgomaster bids him leave the town at once, without his money. But Hunold, nothing daunted, begins to sing so beautifully that the hearts of all the women yearn towards him, he continues still more passionately, addressing himself directly to Regina, and never stops, till the maiden, carried away by a passion unconquerable, offers her lips for a kiss, swearing to be his own for ever. A great tumult arises and Hunold is taken to prison, notwithstanding the remonstrances of Ethelerus, who bitterly repents having had anything to do with Rhynperg's bad joke.

The fifth act takes us to the banks of the Weser, where Gertrud sits in despair. She deems herself betrayed by Hunold, but resolves nevertheless to save his life.

Hunold is brought before the judges and condemned to be burnt alive as a sorcerer, when Gertrud steps forth, claiming his life. In pursuance of an old privilege, Hunold is free when a maid of the town claims him, but he is banished from the country and Gertrud with him.

Hunold promises never to return, but Gertrud throws herself into the river.

Then Hunold swears to avenge the death of his bride. While the citizens are in church, he lures away their children by playing on his pipe; all follow him, both great and small. When he has led them safely over the bridge, he calls the people from church. All gather on the banks of the stream, but they are only just in time to seethe bridge fall into the river, while the mountain opposite opens, swallowing up Hunold and the children for ever.

The music of this opera is so fresh, so full of gaiety and of charming melodies, that it might be compared with Lortzing's "Czar and Zimmermann", if only the text were as well done. Unhappily it lacks all the advantages which characterize the opera just named, as it is frivolous, without possessing the grace and "esprit", which distinguish French composition of a similar kind.

Nevertheless the good music prevails over the bad text, and the opera holds its own with success in every German theatre.

The contents of the libretto are the following:

A schoolmaster, Baculus by name, has had the misfortune unintentionally to shoot a roe-buck, belonging to the forest of his master, Count of Eberbach. Baculus, who is on the eve of his wedding with a young girl, named Gretchen, is much afraid, when the consequences of his unlucky shot show themselves in the shape of a summons to the castle, where he is looked on as a poacher, and is in danger of losing his position. His bride offers to entreat the Count to pardon him, but the jealousold schoolmaster will not allow it. In this embarrassing position the Baroness Freimann, a young widow appears, disguised in the suit of a student, and accompanied by her chambermaid Nanette, who is dressed as her famulus or valet. Hearing of the schoolmaster's misfortune, she proposes to put on Gretchen's clothes and to crave the Count's pardon under the bride's name. Baculus gladly accepts the student's proposal and accompanies him to the castle. Everybody is charmed by the graces and naïveté of the country-girl. The Count tries to make love to her, while Baron Kronthal, who is present, is so much enamoured, that he thinks of marrying her despite her low birth. Kronthal is the Countess of Eberbach's brother, but she does not know him as such, though she feels herself greatly attracted by him. In order to save the girl from persecution, the Countess takes her with her into her room. Meanwhile the Count offers the sum of 5000 thalers to Baculus for the renunciation of his bride. The silly schoolmaster accepts the offer, thinking that the Count wishes to win the real Gretchen. By waking the latter's vanity, he succeeds in turning her affection to the Count, but great is his perplexity, when the Count rejects his bride and scornfully asks for the other Gretchen. Baculus avows at last, that the latter is a disguised student. Baron Kronthal, full of wrath, asks for satisfaction, the student having passed the night in his sister's room. On this occasion the others for the first time hear that the Countess isthe Baron's sister. He demands an explanation and then it is discovered that the student is the Baroness Freimann, sister of the Count of Eberbach. Everybody is content, for the Count, who was detected in the act of kissing the country-girl, declares, that with him it was the voice of nature that spoke, and the Countess, to whom he now presents Kronthal as her brother, makes a like statement. The unhappy Baculus receives full pardon from the Count, on condition that he will, henceforth teach the children of the village, instead of shooting game.

This charming little opera is well worthy of being named among the best of its kind, both on account of its delightful music and because the text is so entertaining and funny as entirely to captivate the hearer's interest.

The whole opera is essentially French in the best sense of the word and we scarce can find a more graceful and witty composition. Its subject, written originally in good French verse is as follows:

Chapelou, stage-driver at Longjumeau is about to celebrate his marriage with the young hostess of the post-house, Madelaine. The wedding has taken place and the young bride is led away by her friends, according to an old custom, while her bridegroom is held back by his comrades, whocompel him to sing. He begins the romance of a young postilion, who had the luck to be carried away by a Princess, having touched her heart by his beautiful playing on the cornet. Chapelou has such a fine voice, that the Superintendent of the Grand Opera at Paris, the Marquis de Corcy, who hears him, is enchanted, and being in search of a good tenor, succeeds in winning over Chapelou, who consents to leave his young wife in order to follow the Marquis' call to glory and fortune. He begs his friend Bijou, a smith, to console Madeleine, by telling her that he will soon return to her. While Madeleine calls for him in tenderest accents, he drives away with his protectors and Bijou delivers his message, determined to try his fortune in a similar way. The desperate Madeleine resolves to fly from the unhappy spot, where everything recalls to her her faithless husband.

In the second act we find Madeleine under the assumed name of Madame de Latour. She has inherited a fortune from an old aunt, and makes her appearance in Paris as a rich and noble lady, with the intention of punishing her husband, whom she however still loves. During these six years, that have passed since their wedding-day, Chapelou has won his laurels under the name of St. Phar and is now the first tenor of the Grand Opera and everybody's spoilt favorite. Bijou is with him as leader of the chorus, and is called Alcindor. We presently witness a comical rehearsal in which the principal singers are determined to do as badly as possible.They all seem hoarse and instead of singing, produce the most lamentable sounds. The Marquis de Corcy is desperate, having promised this representation to Mme. Latour, at whose country-seat near Fontainebleau he is at present staying. As soon as St. Phar hears the name of this lady, his hoarseness is gone and all sing their best. We gather from this scene, that Mme. Latour has succeeded in enthralling St. Phar; he has an interview with her, and, won by his protestations of love, she consents to marry him.

St. Phar, not wishing to commit bigamy, begs his friend Bijou to perform the marriage-ceremony in a priest's garb, but Mme. Latour locks him in her room, along with Bourdon, the second leader of the chorus, while a real priest unites the pair for the second time.

St. Phar enters the room in high spirits, when his companions, beside themselves with fear, tell him that he has committed bigamy. While they are in mortal terror of being hanged, Mme. Latour enters in her former shape as Madeleine, and blowing out the candle, torments St. Phar, assuming now the voice of Mme. Latour, now that of Madeleine.—After having sent her fickle husband into an abyss of unhappiness and fear, the Marquis de Corcy, who had himself hoped to wed the charming widow, appears with the police to imprison the luckless St. Phar, who already considers himself as good as hanged, and in imagination sees his first wife Madeleine rejoicing over his punishment. But hehas been made to suffer enough and at the last moment Madelaine explains everything, and Chapelou obtains her pardon.

Though Preciosa is not an opera, we may feel justified in admitting it into our collection, as the music, which Weber wrote to it has alone given celebrity to Wolff's drama, which would otherwise have long been forgotten.

This musical composition is justly called one of the German nation's jewels, and it shows all the best qualities of Weber's rich music. It was written after the Freischütz and done in the incredibly short space of nine days, and owed its success principally to the really national coloring of melody, which has made some of its songs so popular.

The libretto is well done, the subject both attracting and interesting to the hearer. The scene is laid in Spain. The first act introduces us to Madrid and takes us into the house of a noble Spaniard, named Don Francesco de Carcano. His son, Don Alonzo has fallen violently in love with a Bohemian girl, called Preciosa, whose beauty, virtue and charms are on everybody's lips. The father, wishing to know her, calls her before him and she comes with her people, enchanting the old nobleman aswell as his son by her noble bearing and her exquisite songs.

The second act represents a forest with the gipsies' camp. Alonzo, who has told his father that he followed the army, but has in reality been seeking Preciosa, at length finds her out and tries to win her. But though she, returns his love, she is yet unwilling to follow him, and he resolves to link his fate with that of the Bohemians, in order to prove to Preciosa that his love is real and true. Dressed as a common hunter he follows his new friend, and the gipsies, who are all governed by Preciosa's will swear, never to betray him.

The third act introduces us into the castle of Don Azevedo in Valencia, a friend of Don Francesco's. The former is about to celebrate his silver-wedding. Eugenio, his son, hearing that Preciosa is in the neighborhood, resolves to win her for his father's festival having heard of the latter's delight at seeing the gipsy-girl in his friend's house at Madrid. Eugenio rouses the jealousy of Alonzo, who begins a quarrel which ends by Alonzo's being sent to prison.

The chief of the Bohemians and old mother Viarda who see too late, that they have come into dangerous grounds, break up their camp, but Preciosa, anxious about her lover, takes flight.

She is caught by the chief, but, seizing Alonzo's gun, which was left lying under a tree and threatening to fire if he does not obey her, she forces him to follow her into the castle.

The last act takes place in Azevedo's castle, where his wife, Donna Clara, touched by Preciosa's loveliness, is willing to assist her in liberating her lover. Meanwhile mother Viarda comes with the other gipsies to betray Alonzo's secret, asking one thousand scudi and her chief's liberty. At this moment the youth's father, Don Francesco, comes to offer his congratulations at the silver-wedding of his friend. He finds his son, whom he pardons, Preciosa having for his sake agreed to renounce her bridegroom. While bidding her hosts a sad farewell, Preciosa is so overcome by her feelings, that Donna Clara entreats her husband to buy the girl, whom she believes to be a stolen child. Don Fernando explains to the Bohemians, that he has the right to liberate Preciosa, who has been taken in his grounds, if they should be unable to prove her gipsy-descent. Old Viarda, finding that her schemes have fallen through, shows by a mark on Preciosa's shoulder, that the girl is Donna Clara's own daughter, who was robbed many years ago and was believed by her desolate parents to be drowned. In consideration of Preciosa's entreaties the gipsies are pardoned and only ordered to leave the country for ever. Preciosa is of course united to her faithful lover Alonzo.

Though Meyerbeer never again attained the high standard of his Huguenots, the "Prophet" isnot without both striking and powerful passages; it is even said, that motherly love never spoke in accents more touching than in this opera. The text is again historical, but though done by Scribe, it is astonishingly weak and uninteresting.

The scene is laid in Holland at the time of the wars with the Anabaptists.

Fides, mother of the hero, John von Leyden, keeps an inn near Dortrecht. She has just betrothed a young peasant-girl to her son, but Bertha is a vassal, of the Count of Oberthal and dares not marry without his permission.

As they set about getting his consent to the marriage, three Anabaptists, Jonas, Mathisen and Zacharias appear, exciting the people with their speeches and false promises. While they are preaching, Oberthal enters, but smitten with Bertha's charms he refuses his consent to her marriage and carries her off, with Fides as companion.

In the second act we find John, waiting for his bride; as she delays, the Anabaptists try to win him for their cause, they prophesy him a crown, but as yet he is not ambitious, and life with Bertha looks sweeter to him than the greatest honors. As the night comes on, Bertha rushes in to seek refuge from her pursuer, from whom she has fled.—Hardly has she hidden herself, when Oberthal enters to claim her. John refuses his assistance, but when Oberthal threatens to kill his mother, he gives up Bertha to the Count, while his mother, whose life he has saved at such a price, asks God'sbenediction on his head. Then she retires for the night, and the Anabaptists appear once more, again trying to win John over. This time they succeed. Without a farewell to his sleeping mother, John follows the Anabaptists, to be henceforth their leader, their Prophet, their Messiah.

In the third act we see the Anabaptists' camp, their soldiers have captured a party of noblemen, who are to pay ransom. They all make merry and the famous ballet on the ice forms part of the amusements. In the back-ground we see Münster, which town is in the hands of Count Oberthal's father, who refuses to surrender it to the enemy. They resolve to storm it, a resolution which is heard by young Oberthal, who has come disguised to the Anabaptists' camp in order to save his father and the town.

But as a light is struck, he is recognized and is about to be killed, when John hears from him that Bertha has escaped. She sprang out of the window to save her honor, and falling into the stream, was saved. When John learns this, he bids the soldiers spare Oberthal's life, that he may be judged by Bertha herself.

John has already endured great pangs of conscience at seeing his party so wild and bloodthirsty. He refuses to go further, but hearing, that an army of soldiers has broken out of Münster to destroy the Anabaptists, he rallies. Praying fervently to God for help and victory, inspiration comes over him and is communicated to all his adherents, so thatthey resolve to storm Münster. They succeed and in the fourth act we are in the midst of this town, where we find Fides, who, knowing that her son has turned Anabaptist, though not aware of his being their Prophet, is receiving alms to save his soul by masses. She meets Bertha, disguised in a pilgrim's garb. Both vehemently curse the Prophet, when this latter appears, to be crowned in state.

His mother recognizes him, but he disowns her, declaring her mad, and by strength of will he compels the poor mother to renounce him. Fides, in order to save his life, avows that she was mistaken and she is led to prison.

In the last act we find the three Anabaptists, Mathisen, Jonas and Zacharias together. The Emperor is near the gates of Münster, and they resolve to deliver their Prophet into his hands in order to save their lives.

Fides has been brought into a dungeon, where John visits her to ask her pardon and to save her. She curses him, but his repentance moves her so, that she pardons him when he promises to leave his party. At this moment Bertha enters. She has sworn to kill the false Prophet, and she comes to the dungeon to set fire to the gunpowder, hidden beneath it. Fides detains her, but when she recognizes that her bridegroom and the Prophet are one and the same person, she wildly denounces him for his bloody deeds and stabs herself in his presence. Then John decides to die also and afterthe soldiers have led his mother away, he himself sets fire to the vault.

Then he appears at the coronation-banquet, where he knows that he is to be taken prisoner. When Oberthal, the Bishop and all his treacherous friends are assembled, he bids two of his faithful soldiers close the gates and fly. This done, the castle is blown into the air with all its inhabitants. At the last moment Fides rushes in to share her son's fate, and all are thus buried under the ruins.

Charles Goldmark was born in Hungary in 1852. He received his musical education in Vienna.

The well-known name of Mosenthal is in itself a warrant that the libretto is excellently suited to the music. The opera is considered one of the best and finest of our modern compositions.

It is noble, original and full of brilliant orchestral effects, which, united to a grand, not to say gorgeous mise en scène, captivate our senses.

The contents are these:

A magnificent wedding is to be celebrated in King Solomon's palace at Jerusalem. The High-priest's daughter, Sulamith, is to marry Assad, King Solomon's favorite. But the lover, who has in a foreign country seen a most beautiful and haughty woman bathing in a forest-well, is now inlove with the stranger and has forgotten his destined bride.

Returning home Assad confesses his error to the wise King and Solomon bids him wed Sulamith and forget the heathen. Assad gives his promise, praying to God to restore peace to his breast.

Then enters the Queen of Sheba in all her glory, followed by a procession of slaves and suitors. Next to her litter walks her principal slave, Astaroth.

The Queen comes to offer her homage to the great Solomon with all the gifts of her rich kingdom.

She is veiled, and nobody has seen her yet, as only before the King will she unveil herself.

When she draws back the veil, shining in all her perfect beauty, Assad starts forward; he recognizes her; she is his nymph of the forest. But the proud Queen seems to know him not, she ignores him altogether. Solomon and Sulamith try to reassure themselves, to console Assad, and the Queen hears Solomon's words: "To-morrow shall find you united to your bride!" She starts and casts a passionate look on the unfortunate Assad.

The Queen is full of raging jealousy of the young bride. But though she claims Assad's love for herself, she is yet too proud to resign her crown, and so, hesitating between love and pride, she swears vengeance on her rival. Under the shade of night her slave-woman, Astaroth, allures Assad to the fountain, where he finds the Queen,who employs all her arts again to captivate him, succeeding alas, only too well.

Morning dawns and with it the day of Assad's marriage with Sulamith. Solomon and the High-priest conduct the youth to the altar, but just as he is taking the ring, offered to him by the bride's father, the Queen of Sheba appears, bringing as wedding-gift a golden cup, filled with pearls.

Assad, again overcome by the Queen's dazzling beauty, throws the ring away and precipitates himself at her feet. The Levites detain him, but Solomon guessing at the truth, implores the Queen to speak. Assad invokes all the sweet memories of their past, the Queen hesitates, but her pride conquers. For the second time she disowns him.—Now everybody believes Assad possessed by an evil spirit, and the priests at once begin to exorcise it; it is all but done, when one word of the Queen's, who sweetly calls him "Assad", spoils everything. He is in her hands: falling on his knees before her, he prays to her as to his goddess. Wrathful at this blasphemy in the temple, the priests demand his death.

Assad asks no better, Sulamith despairs and the Queen repents having gone so far. In the great tumult Solomon alone is unmoved. He detains the priests with dignity, for he alone will judge Assad.

There now follows a charming ballet, given in honor of the Queen of Sheba. At the end of the meal, the Queen demands Assad's pardon from Solomon. He refuses her request. She now triesto ensnare the King with her charms, as she did Assad, but in vain. Solomon sees her in her true light and treats her with cold politeness. Almost beside herself with rage, the Queen threatens to take vengeance on the King and to free Assad at any risk.

Solomon, well understanding the vile tricks of the eastern Queen, has changed the verdict of death into that of exile. Sulamith, faithful and gentle, entreats for her lover, and has only one wish: to sweeten life to her Assad, or to die with him.

We find Assad in the desert. He is broken down and deeply repents his folly, when, lo, the Queen appears once more, hoping to lure him with soft words and tears. But this time her beauty is lost upon him: he has at last recognized her false soul; with noble pride he scorns her, prefering to expiate his follies, by dying in the desert. He curses her, praying to God to save him from the temptress.—Henceforth he thinks only of Sulamith and invokes Heaven's benediction on her. He is dying in the dreadful heat of the desert, when Sulamith appears, the faithful one who without resting has sought her bridegroom till now. But alas, in vain she kneels beside him couching his head on her bosom; his life is fast ebbing away.—Heaven has granted his last wish; he sees Sulamith before his death and with the sigh: "Liberation!", he sinks back and expires.


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