LES HUGUENOTS.
Grand Opera in five acts by GIACOMO MEYERBEER.
Text by SCRIBE.
This is the best opera of this fertile composer, and one with which only his "Robert le diable" can compare. The music is not only interesting, but highly dramatic; the "mise en scene", the brilliant orchestration, the ballet, everything is combined to fascinate the hearer. We find such an abundance of musical ideas, that we feel Berlioz but spoke the truth, when he said that it would do for twenty others of its kind.
The scene is laid in France, at the time of the bloody persecutions of the Protestants or Huguenots by the Catholics. The Duke of Medicis has apparently made peace with Admiral Coligny, the greatest and most famous of the Huguenots, and we are introduced into the castle of Count Nevers, where the catholic noblemen receive Raoul de Nangis, a protestant, who has lately been promoted to the rank of captain. During their meal they speak of love and its pleasures, and everybody is called on to give the name of his sweetheart. Raoul begins, by telling them, that once when taking a walk, he surprised a band of students, molesting a lady in a litter. He rescued her and as she graciously thanked him for his gallant service, he thought her more beautiful than any maiden he had ever before seen. His heart burnt with love for her, though he did not know her name. While Raoul drinks with the noblemen, Marcel, his old servant warns him of the danger of doing so.
Marcel is a strict old protestant and sings a ballad of the Huguenots to the young people, a song wild and fanatic. They laugh at his impotent wrath, when a lady is announced to Count Nevers, in whom Raoul recognizes the lady of his dreams.
Of course he believes her false and bad, while as a matter of fact she only comes to beseech Nevers, her destined bridegroom, to set her free. Nevers does so, though not without pain. When he returns to his companions, he conceals the result of the interview, and presently Urbain, a page, enters with a little note for Raoul de Nangis, in which he is ordered to attend a lady, unknown to him. The others recognize the seal of Queen Margarita of Valois, and finding him so worthy, at once seek to gain his friendship.
In the second act we find Raoul with the beautiful Queen, who is trying to reconcile the Catholics with the Protestants. To this end the Queen has resolved to unite Raoul with Valentine, her lady of honor, and daughter of the Count of St. Bris, a staunch catholic. Valentine tells her heart's secret to her mistress, for to her it was that Raoul brought assistance, and she loves him. The noble Raoul, seeing Margarita's beauty and kindness, vows himself her knight, when suddenly the whole court enters to render her homage. Recognizing her at last to be the Queen, Raoul is all the more willing to fulfil her wishes and offers his hand in reconciliation to the proud St. Bris, promising to wed his daughter. But when he perceives in her the unknown lady, whom he believes to be so unworthy, he takes back his word. All are surprised, and the offended father vows bloody vengeance.
In the third act Marcel brings a challenge to St. Bris, which the latter accepts, but Maurevert, a fanatical catholic nobleman, tells him of other ways in which to annihilate his foe. Valentine though deadly offended with her lover, resolves to save him. Seeing Marcel, she bids him tell his master not to meet his enemy alone. Meanwhile Raoul is already on the spot, and so is St. Bris with four witnesses. While they fight, a quarrel arises between the catholic and the protestant citizens, which is stopped by Queen Margarita. The enemies accuse each other, and when the Queen is in doubt as to whom she shall believe, Valentine appears to bear witness. Then Raoul hears that her interview with Nevers had been but a farewell, sought for but to loosen forever the ties which her father had formed for her against her will; but the knowledge of his error comes too late, for St. Bris has once more promised his daughter to Nevers, who at this moment arrives with many guests, invited for the wedding. The presence of the Queen preserves peace between the different parties, but Raoul leaves the spot with death in his heart.
In the fourth act the dreadful night of St. Bartholomew is already beginning.
We find Valentine in her room despairing. Raoul comes to take a last farewell, but almost immediately St. Bris enters with a party of Catholics and Raoul is obliged to hide in the adjoining room. There he hears the whole conspiracy for the destruction of the Protestants, beginning with their leader, Admiral Coligny. The Catholics all assent to this diabolical plot; Nevers alone refuses to soil his honor, and swears only to fight in open battle. The others, fearing treason, decide to bind and keep him prisoner until the next morning. Raoul prepares to save his brethren or die with them. Vain are Valentine's entreaties; though she confesses to her love for him, he yet leaves her, though with a great effort, to follow the path of duty.
In the last act Raoul rushes pale and bloody into the hall, where Queen Margarita sits with her husband, Henry of Navarre, surrounded by the court; He tells them of the terrific events, which are going on outside, and beseeches their help. It is too late however, Coligny has already fallen, and with him most of the Huguenots.
Raoul meets Valentine once more; she promises to save him, if he will go over to her faith. But Marcel reminds him of his oath, and Valentine, seeing that nothing can move her lover's fortitude and firmness, decides to remain with him. She accepts his creed and so they meet death together, Valentine falling by the side of her deadly wounded lover, both praising God with their last breath.
IDLE HANS.
(DER FAULE HANS.)
Opera in one act by A. RITTER.
Text after a poetic tale by FELIX DAHN.
The composer of this hitherto unknown opera is no young man. He is over sixty, and his well deserved fame reaches him but tardily. Alexander Ritter, a relation and a true friend of Wagner's, was one of the few, who gave his help to the latter when he fled to Switzerland poor and abandoned. Though a warm admirer of Wagner's music, Ritter is not his echo. His music, saturated with the modern spirit is absolutely independant and original. His compositions are not numerous; two operas and a few songs are almost all he did for immortality, but they all wear the stamp of a remarkable talent. "Idle Hans" is a dramatic fairy-tale of poetical conception. Its strength lies in the orchestra, which is wonderfully in tune with the different situations. After having been represented in Weimar ten years ago, the opera fell in oblivion, from which it has now come forth, and was given on the Dresden stage on Nov. 9th 1892. It has met with unanimous approval from all those, who understand fine and spiritual music.
The plot is soon told.
Count Hartung has seven sons, all grown up after his own heart except the youngest, Hans, called the Idle, who prefers basking in the sunshine and dreaming away his life to hunting and fighting. He is a philosopher, and a true type of the German, patient, quiet and phlegmatic, who does not deem it worth his while to move a finger for all the shallow doings of the world in general, and his brothers in particular. The son's idleness so exasperates his father, that he orders him to be chained like a criminal to a huge oaken post standing in the courtyard, forbidding anybody under heavy penalty, to speak to him. His brothers pity him, but they obey their father.
Left alone, Hans sighs after his dead mother, who so well understood him, and who had opened his eyes and heart to an ideal world, with all that is good and noble. Far from loathing his father, he only bewails the hardness of him, for whose love he craves in vain. At last he falls asleep. Seeing this the maid servants come to mock him (by the bye a delightful piece of music is this chatter-chorus). When Hans has driven away the impudent hussies, his brother Ralph the Singer approaches to assure him of his unvarying love.—He is the only-one who believes in Hans' worth, and now tries hard to rouse him into activity, for he has heard, that the Queen is greatly oppressed by her enemies, the Danes. But Hans remains unmoved, telling him quietly to win his laurels without him. In the midst of their colloquy the Herald's voice announces that the battle is lost, and that the Queen is coming to the castle, a fugitive. The old Count descends from his tower to assemble, his sons and his vassals. Hardly are they ready, when the Queen rides up to ask for protection. The gate closes behind her and the old Count does homage, while Hans, still lying idle on his straw, stares at her beauty with new awakened interest. But the enemy is coming nearer; all the Count's well-trained soldiers are defeated, and already Harald, the Danish King peremptorily orders them to surrender. Now Hans awakes. His effort to break his chain excites the Queen's attention, who asks the old Count, for what crime the beautiful youth is punished so severely. The father disowns his son but at this moment the gate gives way and in rushes Harald, who is met by old Hartung. Alas the Count's sword breaks in pieces. With the cry, "Now it is worth while acting" Hans breaks his fetters and brandishing the oaken post to which he was chained, he fells Harald to the ground with one mighty stroke. Konrad the valet fetters the giant, and Hans slays every one, who tries to enter; then rushing out, delivers his brothers and puts the whole army to flight. Then he returns to the Queen who has witnessed his deeds with a heart full of deep admiration and swears allegiance. Heartily thanking him, she only now hears, that the young hero is Hartung's son, and full of gratitude she offers him one half of her kingdom. But Hans the Idler does not care for a crown; it is her own sweet self he wants, and boldly he claims her hand. Persuaded to have found in him a companion for life as true and loyal as ever lived, she grants him her heart and kingdom.