The Complete Opera Book Part 48

As in the play, so in the opera, the reason why the role of the heroine so strongly appeals to us is that she makes the sacrifice demanded of her--though she is aware that among other unhappy consequences to her, it will aggravate the disease of which she is a victim and hasten her death, wherein, indeed, she even sees a solace.

She cannot yield at once. She prays, as it were, for mercy: "Non sapete" (Ah, you know not).

Finally she yields: "Dite alla giovine" (Say to thy daughter); then "Imponete" (Now command me); and, after that, "Morr--la mia memoria"

(I shall die--but may my memory).

_Germont_ retires. _Violetta_ writes a note, rings for _Annina_, and hands it to her. From the maid's surprise as she reads the address, it can be judged to be for _Flora_, and, presumably, an acceptance of her invitation. When _Annina_ has gone, she writes to _Alfred_ informing him that she is returning to her old life, and that she will look to _Baron Douphol_ to maintain her. _Alfred_ enters. She conceals the letter about her person. He tells her that he has received word from his father that the latter is coming to see him in an attempt to separate him from her. Pretending that she leaves, so as not to be present during the interview, she takes of him a tearful farewell.

_Alfred_ is left alone. He picks up a book and reads listlessly. A messenger enters and hands him a note. The address is in _Violetta's_ handwriting. He breaks the seal, begins to read, staggers as he realizes the import, and would collapse, but that his father, who has quietly entered from the garden, holds out his arms, in which the youth, believing himself betrayed by the woman he loves, finds refuge.

"Di Provenza il mar, il suol chi dal cor ti cancell" (From fair Provence's sea and soil, who hath won thy heart away), sings the elder _Germont_, in an effort to soften the blow that has fallen upon his son.

[Music: Di Provenza il mar, il suol]

_Alfred_ rouses himself. Looking about vaguely, he sees _Flora's_ letter, glances at the contents, and at once concludes that _Violetta's_ first plunge into the vortex of gayety, to return to which she has, as he supposes, abandoned him, will be at _Flora's_ fete.

"Thither will I hasten, and avenge myself!" he exclaims, and departs precipitately, followed by his father.

The scene changes to a richly furnished and brilliantly lighted salon in _Flora's_ palace. The fete is in full swing. There is a ballet of women gypsies, who sing as they dance "Noi siamo zingarelle" (We're gypsies gay and youthful).

_Gaston_ and his friends appear as matadors and others as picadors.

_Gaston_ sings, while the others dance, "e Piquillo, un bel gagliardo"

('Twas Piquillo, so young and so daring).

It is a lively scene, upon which there enters _Alfred_, to be followed soon by _Baron Douphol_ with _Violetta_ on his arm. _Alfred_ is seated at a card table. He is steadily winning. "Unlucky in love, lucky in gambling!" he exclaims. _Violetta_ winces. The _Baron_ shows evidence of anger at _Alfred's_ words and is with difficulty restrained by _Violetta_. The _Baron_, with a.s.sumed nonchalance, goes to the gaming table and stakes against _Alfred_. Again the latter's winnings are large. A servant's announcement that the banquet is ready is an evident relief to the _Baron_. All retire to an adjoining salon. For a brief moment the stage is empty.

_Violetta_ enters. She has asked for an interview with _Alfred_. He joins her. She begs him to leave. She fears the _Baron's_ anger will lead him to challenge _Alfred_ to a duel. The latter sneers at her apprehensions; intimates that it is the _Baron_ she fears for. Is it not the _Baron Douphol_ for whom he, _Alfred_, has been cast off by her? _Violetta's_ emotions almost betray her, but she remembers her promise to the elder _Germont_, and exclaims that she loves the _Baron_.

_Alfred_ tears open the doors to the salon where the banquet is in progress. "Come hither, all!" he shouts.

They crowd upon the scene. _Violetta_, almost fainting, leans against the table for support. Facing her, _Alfred_ hurls at her invective after invective. Finally, in payment of what she has spent to help him maintain the house near Paris in which they have lived together, he furiously casts at her feet all his winnings at the gaming table. She faints in the arms of _Flora_ and _Dr. Grenvil_.

The elder _Germont_ enters in search of his son. He alone knows the real significance of the scene, but for the sake of his son and daughter cannot disclose it. A dramatic ensemble, in which _Violetta_ sings, "Alfredo, Alfredo, di questo core non puoi comprendere tutto l'amore" (Alfred, Alfred, little canst thou fathom the love within my heart for thee) brings the act to a close.

Act III. _Violetta's_ bedroom. At the back is a bed with the curtains partly drawn. A window is shut in by inside shutters. Near the bed stands a tabouret with a bottle of water, a crystal cup, and different kinds of medicine on it. In the middle of the room is a toilet-table and settee. A little apart from this is another piece of furniture upon which a night-lamp is burning. On the left is a fireplace with a fire in it.

_Violetta_ awakens. In a weak voice she calls _Annina_, who, waking up confusedly, opens the shutters and looks down into the street, which is gay with carnival preparations. _Dr. Grenvil_ is at the door.

_Violetta_ endeavours to rise, but falls back again. Then, supported by _Annina_, she walks slowly toward the settee. The doctor enters in time to a.s.sist her. _Annina_ places cus.h.i.+ons about her. To _Violetta_ the physician cheerfully holds out hope of recovery, but to _Annina_ he whispers, as he is leaving, that her mistress has but few hours more to live.

_Violetta_ has received a letter from the elder _Germont_ telling her that _Alfred_ has been apprised by him of her sacrifice and has been sent for to come to her bedside as quickly as possible. But she has little hope that he will arrive in time. She senses the near approach of death. "Addio del pa.s.sato" (Farewell to bright visions) she sighs.

For this solo,

[Music: Addio del pa.s.sato bei sogni ridenti,]

when sung in the correct interpretive mood, should be like a sigh from the depths of a once frail, but now purified soul.

A baccha.n.a.lian chorus of carnival revellers floats up from the street.

_Annina_, who had gone out with some money which _Violetta_ had given her to distribute as alms, returns. Her manner is excited. _Violetta_ is quick to perceive it and divine its significance. _Annina_ has seen _Alfred_. He is waiting to be announced. The dying woman bids _Annina_ hasten to admit him. A moment later he holds _Violetta_ in his arms.

Approaching death is forgotten. Nothing again shall part them. They will leave Paris for some quiet retreat. "Parigi, o cara, noi lasceremo" (We shall fly from Paris, beloved), they sing.

[Music: Parigi, o cara, noi lasceremo]

But it is too late. The hand of death is upon the woman's brow. "Gran Dio! morir s giovine" (O, G.o.d! to die so young).

The elder _Germont_ and _Dr. Grenvil_ have come in. There is nothing to be done. The cough that racked the poor frail body has ceased. _La traviata_ is dead.

Not only were "Il Trovatore" and "La Traviata" produced in the same year, but "La Traviata" was written between the date of "Trovatore's"

premiere at Rome (January 19th) and March 6th. Only four weeks in all are said to have been devoted to it, and part of the time Verdi was working on "Trovatore" as well. Nothing could better ill.u.s.trate the fecundity of his genius, the facility with which he composed. But it was not the fatal facility that sacrifices real merit for temporary success. There are a few echoes of "Trovatore" in "Traviata"; but the remarkable achievement of Verdi is not in having written so beautiful an opera as "La Traviata" in so short a time, but in having produced in it a work in a style wholly different from "Il Trovatore." The latter palpitates with the pa.s.sions of love, hatred, and vengeance.

The setting of the action encourages these. It consists of palace gardens, castles, dungeons. But "La Traviata" plays in drawing-rooms.

The music corresponds with these surroundings. It is vivacious, graceful, gentle. When it palpitates, it is with sorrow. The opera also contains a notably beautiful instrumental number--the introduction to the third act. This was a favourite piece with Theodore Thomas. Several times--years ago--I heard it conducted by him at his Popular Concerts.

Oddly enough, although "Il Trovatore" is by far the more robust and at one time was, as I have stated, the most popular opera in the world, I believe that today the advantage lies with "La Traviata," and that, as between the two, there belongs to that opera the ultimate chance of survival. I explain this on the ground that, in "Il Trovatore" the hero and heroine are purely musical creations, the real character drawing, dramatically and musically, being in the role of _Azucena_, which, while a princ.i.p.al role, has not the prominence of _Leonora_ or _Manrico_. In "La Traviata," on the other hand, we have in the original of _Violetta_--the _Marguerite Gauthier_ of Alexandre Dumas, _fils_--one of the great creations of modern drama, the frail woman redeemed by the touch of an artist. Piave, in his libretto, preserves the character. In the opera, as in the play, one comprehends the injunction, "Let him who is not guilty throw the first stone." For Verdi has clothed _Violetta_ in music that brings out the character so vividly and so beautifully that whenever I see "Traviata" I recall the first performance in America of the Dumas play by Bernhardt, then in her slender and supple prime, and the first American appearance in it of Duse, with her exquisite intonation and restraint of gesture.

In fact, operas survive because the librettist has known how to create a character and the composer how to match it with his musical genius.

Recall the das.h.i.+ng _Don Giovanni_; the resourceful _Figaro_, both in the Mozart and the Rossini opera; the real interpretive quality of a mild and gracious order in the heroine of "La Sonnambula"--innocence personified; the gloomy figure of _Edgardo_ stalking through "Lucia di Lammermoor"; the hunchback and the t.i.tled gallant in "Rigoletto," and you can understand why these very old operas have lived so long. They are not make-believe; they are real.

UN BALLO IN MASCHERA

THE MASKED BALL

Opera in three acts, by Verdi; words by Somma, based on Scribe's libretto for Auber's opera, "Gustave III., ou Le Bal Masque" (Gustavus III., or the Masked Ball). Produced, Apollo Theatre, Rome, February 17, 1859. Paris, Theatre des Italiens, January 13, 1861. London, June 15, 1861. New York, February 11, 1861. Revivals, Metropolitan Opera House, N.Y., with Jean de Reszke, 1903; with Caruso, Eames, Homer, Scotti, Plancon, and Journet, February 6, 1905; with Caruso, Destinn, Matzenauer, Hempel, and Amato, November 22, 1913.

CHARACTERS

RICHARD, Count of Warwick and Governor of Boston (or Riccardo, Duke of Olivares and Governor of Naples) _Tenor_ AMELIA (Adelia) _Soprano_ REINHART (Renato), secretary to the Governor and husband of Amelia _Baritone_ SAMUEL } enemies of the Governor _Ba.s.s_ TOM (Tommaso) } SILVAN, a sailor _Soprano_ OSCAR (Edgardo), a page _Soprano_ ULRICA, a negress astrologer _Contralto_

A judge, a servant of Amelia, populace, guards, etc., conspirators, maskers, and dancing couples.

_Place_--Boston, or Naples.

_Time_--Late seventeenth or middle eighteenth century.

The English libretto of "Un Ballo in Maschera," literally "A Masked Ball," but always called by us "The Masked Ball," has the following note:

"The scene of Verdi's 'Ballo in Maschera' was, by the author of the libretto, originally laid in one of the European cities. But the government censors objected to this, probably, because the plot contained the record of a successful conspiracy against an established prince or governor. By a change of scene to the distant, and, to the author, little-known, city of Boston, in America, this difficulty seems to have been obviated. The fact should be borne in mind by Bostonians and others, who may be somewhat astonished at the events which are supposed to have taken place in the old Puritan city."

Certainly the events in "The Masked Ball" are amazing for the Boston of Puritan or any other time, and it was only through necessity that the scene of the opera was laid there. Now that political reasons for this no longer exist, it is usually played with the scene laid in Naples.

Auber produced, in 1833, an opera on a libretto by Scribe, ent.i.tled "Gustave III., ou Le Bal Masque." Upon this Scribe libretto the book of "Un Ballo in Maschera" is based. Verdi's opera was originally called "Gustavo III.," and, like the Scribe-Auber work, was written around the a.s.sa.s.sination of Gustavus III., of Sweden, who, March 16, 1792, was shot in the back during a masked ball at Stockholm.

Verdi composed the work for the San Carlo Theatre, Naples, where it was to have been produced for the carnival of 1858. But January 14th of that year, and while the rehearsals were in progress, Felice Orsini, an Italian revolutionist, made his attempt on the life of Napoleon III. In consequence the authorities forbade the performance of a work dealing with the a.s.sa.s.sination of a king. The suggestion that Verdi adapt his music to an entirely different libretto was put aside by the composer, and the work was withdrawn, with the result that a revolution nearly broke out in Naples. People paraded the street, and by shouting "Viva Verdi!" proclaimed, under guise of the initials of the popular composer's name, that they favoured the cause of a united Italy, with Victor Emanuel as King; viz.: Vittorio Emmanuele Re D'Italia (Victor Emanuel, King of Italy). Finally the censor in Rome suggested, as a way out of the difficulty, that the t.i.tle of the opera be changed to "Un Ballo in Maschera" and the scene transferred to Boston. For however nervous the authorities were about having a king murdered on the stage, they regarded the a.s.sa.s.sination of an English governor in far-off America as a quite harmless diversion. So, indeed, it proved to be, the only excitement evinced by the audience of the Apollo Theatre, Rome, on the evening of February 18, 1859, being the result of its enthusiasm over the various musical numbers of the work, this enthusiasm not being at all dampened by the fact that, with the transfer to Boston, two of the conspirators, _Samuel_ and _Tommaso_, became negroes, and the astrologer who figures in the opera, a negress.

The sensible change of scene from Boston to Naples is said to have been initiated in Paris upon the instance of Mario, who "would never have consented to sing his ballad in the second act in short pantaloons, silk stockings, red dress, and big epaulettes of gold lace. He would never have been satisfied with the t.i.tle of Earl of Warwick and the office of governor. He preferred to be a grandee of Spain, to call himself the Duke of Olivares, and to disguise himself as a Neapolitan fisherman, besides paying little attention to the strict accuracy of the role, but rather adapting it to his own gifts as an artist." The ballad referred to in this quotation undoubtedly is _Richard's_ barcarolle, "Di' tu se fedele il flutto m'aspetta"

(Declare if the waves will faithfully bear me).

Act I. Reception hall in the Governor's house. _Richard, Earl of Warwick_, is giving an audience. _Oscar_, a page, brings him the list of guests invited to a masked ball. _Richard_ is especially delighted at seeing on it the name of _Amelia_, the wife of his secretary, _Reinhart_, although his conscience bitterly reproaches him for loving _Amelia_, for _Reinhart_ is his most faithful friend, ever ready to defend him. The secretary also has discovered a conspiracy against his master; but as yet has been unable to learn the names of the conspirators.

At the audience a judge is announced, who brings for signature the sentence of banishment against an old fortune teller, the negress _Ulrica_. _Oscar_, however, intercedes for the old woman. _Richard_ decides to visit her in disguise and test her powers of divination.