The Standard Operaglass Part 34

Opera in three acts by WILHELM KIENZL.

Text after the Indian legend of KALIDASA.

This opera is so brilliantly supplemented by decorations and poetic enchantment of every kind, that it would be worth while to see those triumphs of modern machinery alone. But not only on account of external effect is Urvasi admired, the music is in itself well worth hearing, though it contains many reminiscences of other well-known composers. It is pleasing and graceful, and the orchestration is so brilliant, that it may even deceive the hearer as to the poverty of invention.

The subject, arranged by Kienzl himself, is highly romantic.

The Apsares, (virgins of heaven), who are sometimes allowed to visit earth and its inhabitants, have just made use of this permission.

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Urvasi, their Princess, isolates herself from their dances and is with two sisters caught by the wild Prince of the Asures, their enemy. They cry for help, when the King of Persia, hunting in those grounds, appears with his suite and saves Urvasi.

They fall in love with each other, though Brahma has prophesied to the King, that he will die poor and unknown, if he does not wed the last Princess of the Persian kingdom, Ausinari, to whom he is already betrothed.

Urvasi tells him, that not being a daughter of earth, she can only be allowed to see him from time to time. The King swears eternal faith to her; and she in return promises to be his in heaven. But should he prove false, nothing can save them both from fearful punishment.

Then she bids him farewell, promising to send a rose every time she is allowed to descend from heaven.

In the second act Ausinari, walking in the moons.h.i.+ne, mourns for the King's love which she has lost. Mandava, priest of the moon, consoles her, designing [Transcriber's note: designating?] the present night, that of the full-moon, as the one, in which the King's heart shall again turn to her.

After his departure Ausinari first prays to the good and mild G.o.d of the moon, but afterwards invokes Ahriman, the Spirit of Night, lest the moon-G.o.d should prove too weak. When she has left the park, the King walks in dreamily. His whole soul is filled by Urvasi; he fervently calls for her, {340} and a rose, her love-token, falls at his feet.

But he waits in vain for her, she does not come and as the priests of the moon appear, to celebrate the festival of their G.o.d, he retires disappointed into a bower.

Now follows a sort of ballet. All the maidens and their lovers, who desire to be united, sacrifice to the G.o.d; the young men throw a blooming rose into the flame, the girls a palm-branch.

Ausinari appears and is greeted, with joyous acclamations, while Manava enters the bower to conduct the King to the sacrifice. He vainly strives against Ausinari and the priests, who urgently demand the sacrifice of the red rose, which he still carries in his hand. After a long resistance he abandons himself to despair and throws the rose into the blaze, thinking himself forsaken by Urvasi. But hardly has he done so, than Urvasi's form rises from the flame, solemnly reminding him of the oath which he has broken. She has only been testing his firmness and finding him weak, she is obliged to disappear forever as Urvasi and to live in another form, while only deepest contrition and ardent love can ever help him to find her again. Urvasi vanishes, and the King leaves Ausinari, his throne, and his land, to seek as a poor pilgrim for his beloved.

In the last act we find Urvasi's friend, the Apsare Tschitralekha, watering a rose-bush, into which her Princess has been transformed.

The King enters in the garb of an Indian {341} penitent. His strength is nearly exhausted, he has sought his bride all over the earth, and he now demands her from the spirit of the rock and from that of the cataract, but all tell him, that she is only to find where glowing life grows. Tired to death, he draws his sword to end his life, when Tschitralekha laying her hand on his arm, points out the rose-bush.

The King kisses it, and falling on his knee beside the virgin who joins in his devotions, fervently prays to Indra, that at last his love may be given to him again. Slowly Urvasi rises from the rose-bush. A long and exalted love-duet follows, then the Indian heaven opens and the King dies at Urvasi's feet, struck by a ray from the celestial sun.

THE VAMPIRE.

Romantic Opera in two acts by HEINRICH MARSCHNER.

Text by W. A. WOHLBRUeCK.

This opera had long fallen into oblivion, when Hofrath Schuch of Dresden was struck with the happy idea of resuscitating it. And indeed its music well deserves to be heard. It is both beautiful and characteristic and particularly the drinking-scenes in the second act, the soft and graceful airs sung by Emma and Edgar Aubry belong to the best of Marschner's work. He is, it is true, not quite original and often reminds one of Weber, but that cannot well be called a fault, almost every genius having greater prototype. This opera was so long neglected on account of its libretto, the {342} subject of which is not only unusual, but far too romantic and ghastly for modern taste. It is taken from Lord Byron's tale of the same name and written by Marschner's own brother-in-law. The scene is laid in Scotland in the seventeenth century and ill.u.s.trates the old Scottish legend of the Vampire, a phantom-monster which can only exist by sucking the heart-blood of sleeping mortals.

Lord Ruthven is such a Vampire. He victimizes young maidens in particular. His soul is sold to Satan, but the demons have granted him a respite of a year, on condition of his bringing them three brides young and pure. His first victim is Janthe, daughter of Sir John Berkley. She loves the monster and together they disappear into a cavern. Her father a.s.sembles followers and goes in search of her.

They hear dreadful waitings, followed by mocking laughter proceeding from the ill-fated Vampire, and entering they find Janthe lifeless.

The despairing father stabs Ruthven, who wounded to death knows that he cannot survive but by drawing life from the rays of the moon, which s.h.i.+nes on the mountains. Unable to move, he is saved by Edgar Aubry, a relative to the Laird of Davenant, who accidentally comes to the spot.

Lord Ruthven, after having received a promise of secrecy from Aubry, tells him who he is and implores him to carry him to the hills as the last favor to a dying man.

Aubry complies with the Vampire's request and then hastily flies from the spot. Ruthven {343} revives and follows him, in order to win the love of Malwina, daughter of the Laird of Davenant and Aubry's betrothed.

His respite now waxing short, he tries at the same time to gain the affections of John Perth's the steward's daughter Emma.

Malwina meanwhile greets her beloved Aubry, who has returned after a long absence. Both are full of joy, when Malwina's father enters to announce to his daughter her future husband, whom he has chosen in the person of the Earl of Marsden. Great is Malwina's sorrow, and she now for the first time dares to tell her father, that her heart has already spoken and to present Aubry to him. The Laird's pride however does not allow him to retract his word, and when the Earl of Marsden arrives, he presents him to his daughter. In the supposed Earl, Aubry at once recognizes Lord Ruthven, but the villain stoutly denies his ident.i.ty, giving Lord Ruthven out as a brother, who has been travelling for a long time. Aubry however recognizes the Vampire by a scar on his hand, but he is bound to secrecy by his oath, and so Ruthven triumphs, having the Laird of Davenant's promise that he will be betrothed before midnight to Malwina, as he declares that he is bound to depart for Madrid the following morning as Amba.s.sador.

In the second act all are drinking and frolicking on the green, where the bridal is to take place.

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Emma awaits her lover George Dibdin, who is in Davenant's service.

While she sings the ghastly romance of the Vampire, Lord Ruthven approaches, and by his sweet flattery and promise to help the lovers, he easily causes the simple maiden to grant him a kiss in token of her grat.i.tude. In giving this kiss she is forfeited to the Evil One.

George, who has seen all, is very jealous, though Emma tells him that the future son-in-law of the Laird of Davenant will make him his steward.

Meanwhile Aubry vainly tries to make Ruthven renounce Malwina. Ruthven threatens that Aubry himself will be condemned to be a Vampire, if he breaks his oath, and depicts in glowing colors the torments of a spirit so cursed. While Aubry hesitates as to what he shall do, Ruthven once more approaches Emma and succeeds in winning her consent to follow him to his den, where he murders her.

In the last scene Malwina, unable any longer to resist her father's will, has consented to the hateful marriage. Ruthven has kept away rather long and comes very late to his wedding. Aubry implores them to wait for the coming day, but in vain. Then he forgets his own danger and only sees that of his beloved, and when Ruthven is leading the bride to the altar, he loudly proclaims Ruthven to be a Vampire. At this moment a thunder-peal is heard and a flash of lightning destroys Ruthven, whose time of respite has ended at midnight. The old Laird, witnessing Heaven's {345} punishment, repents his error and gladly gives Malwina to her lover, while all praise the Almighty, who has turned evil into good.

THE WALKYRIE.

First day of the Nibelungen Ring by WAGNER.

In the first scene we are introduced into the dwelling of a mighty warrior, Hunding, in whose house Siegmund, a son of Wotan and of a mortal woman, has sought refuge, without knowing that it is the abode of an enemy. Sieglinda, Hunding's wife, who, standing alone and abandoned in the world, was forced into this union against her will, attracts the guest's interest and wins his love.

When Hunding comes home from the fight, he learns to his disgust, that his guest is the same warrior, who killed his kinsmen and whom they vainly pursued. The laws of hospitality forbid him to attack Siegmund under his own roof, but he warns him that he shall only await the morrow to fight him.

Sieglinda, having fallen in love with her guest mixes a powder with her husband's potion, which sends him into profound sleep. Then she returns to Siegmund, to whom she shows the hilt of the sword, thrust deep into the mighty ash-tree's stem, which fills the middle s.p.a.ce of the hut. It has been put there by an unknown one-eyed wanderer, (Wotan, who once sacrificed one of his eyes to Erda, wis.h.i.+ng to gain more knowledge for the sake of mankind). No hero has succeeded {346} until now in loosening the wondrous steel. Siegmund reveals to Sieglinda, that he is a son of the "Waelsung" and they recognize that they are twin brother and sister. Then Sieglinda knows that the sword is destined for Siegmund by his father, and Siegmund, with one mighty effort draws it out of the ash-tree. Sieglinda elopes with him and the early morning finds them in a rocky pa.s.s, evading Hunding's wrath.

In the second scene we see Wotan, giving directions to the Walkyrie Bruennhilde, who is to s.h.i.+eld Siegmund in his battle with Hunding.

Bruennhilde is Wotan's and Erda's child and her father's favorite. But Fricka comes up, remonstrating violently against this breach of all moral and matrimonial laws; she is the protector of marriages and most jealous of her somewhat fickle husband, and she forces Wotan to withdraw his protection from Siegmund and to remove the power of Siegmund's sword.

Wotan recalls Bruennhilde, changing his orders with heavy heart and sending her forth to tell Siegmund his doom. She obeys, but Siegmund scorns all her fine promises of Walhalla. Though he is to find his father there, and everything besides that he could wish, he prefers foregoing all this happiness, when he hears that Sieglinda, who has been rendered inanimate by grief and terror, cannot follow him, but must go down to "Hel" after her death, where the shadows lead a sad and gloomy existence.--He wins Bruennhilde by his {347} love and n.o.ble courage, and she for the first time resolves to disobey Wotan's orders given so unwillingly, and to help Siegmund against his foe.

Now ensues the combat with Hunding, Bruennhilde standing on Siegmund's side. But Wotan interferes, breaking Siegmund's sword; he falls, and Wotan kills Hunding too by one wrathful glance.

Then he turns his anger against the Walkyrie, who dared to disobey his commands and Bruennhilde flies before him, taking Sieglinda on her swift horse Grane, which bears both through the clouds.

In the third scene we find the Walkyries, arriving through the clouds on horseback one after the other. Every-one has a hero lying before her in the saddle. It is their office to carry these into Walhalla, while the faint-hearted, or those of mankind, not happy enough to fall in battle, are doomed to go to "Hel" after their death.

There are eight Walkyries without Bruennhilde, who comes last with Sieglinda in her saddle, instead of a hero. She implores her sisters to a.s.sist her and the unhappy woman. But they refuse, fearing Wotan's wrath. Then she resolves to save Sieglinda and to brave the results of her rash deed alone. She first summons back to the despairing woman courage and desire to live, by telling her, that she bears the token of Siegmund's love; then sends her eastward to the great forest with Grane, where Fafner the giant, changed into a dragon, guards the Rhinegold and the ill-fated ring, a spot which Wotan avoids.

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