Stories from the Operas

by Gladys Davidson

LA TRAVIATA

One night, towards the end of the reign of Le Grand Monarque, no more lively party could have been found in the whole of gay Paris, than that which was assembled in the salon of the beautiful and fascinating courtesan, Violetta Valèry; for with her accustomed extravagant generosity, the fair hostess had provided an entertainment upon the most lavish scale, so that the guests, feasted thus royally, and freed from conventional restraint, found it an easy matter to be merry, and to exercise their wit for the benefit of one another.

It was a brilliant company, too, for Violetta numbered amongst her admirers many scions of the nobility, besides the devotees of art; and since all were bent on pleasure, a constant flow of sparkling humour and joyous mirth on every side made it impossible for anyone to be dull.

The beautiful Violetta herself was one of the merriest of all that merry throng; for pleasure was as the very breath of life to her, and such a scene as this was her delight. Yet, in spite of natural inclination, her gaiety was not without physical effort; for indulgence in pleasure had developed inherent seeds of consumption with alarming rapidity, and already her frail form showed signs of the advance of the dread disease. Every now and then a sudden faintness would seize her, and the effort of moving amongst her guests was almost more than she could bear; and so, for the most part, she was compelled to recline upon her couch, from whence, however she rallied her guests with all her accustomed light-heartedness, and around which they circled as the centre of attraction.

Amongst the guests present to-night was a handsome young man of noble family, Alfred Germont, who, although he had not yet confessed his passion, had given his whole heart to the lovely courtesan, and had adored her secretly for many months; and Violetta, who, though she had had many lovers, had never yet given her heart to anyone, had always felt a thrill of joy when Alfred approached her, and knew that it was love she felt at last. She had, however, tried to treat him with careless indifference and to conquer the passion that was slowly but surely enveloping her whole being; for though she had not exercised any such scruples with her former admirers, for his own sake she felt it better that he should not become her lover.

But Alfred was not to be discouraged by any such assumed coldness; and since he had determined to declare himself that very evening, it was not long before he found an opportunity to do so.

Violetta presently suggested to her guests that they should crown their carousal with dancing; and upon this suggestion being received with acclamation, she invited them to repair to the dancing salon beyond, and, springing from her couch, declared merrily that she would lead them. No sooner had she spoken, however, than a sudden faintness seized her, and she fell back upon her couch, pale and trembling; but though her friends crowded round in anxious sympathy, she would not allow them to interrupt their pleasure on her account, bidding them with laughing carelessness to begin the dance without her, and to allow her to rest alone for a few moments.

No sooner had they gone than Violetta rose slowly, and looked anxiously at herself in the nearest mirror, sighing deeply at the sight of her pale face; and at that moment, Alfred returned to the room, and, hurrying to her side, besought her to take more care of the life that was now so precious to him. He then went on to declare how passionately he loved her, and to entreat her to accept him as her lover; and though Violetta at first tried to treat the matter lightly and with gentle banter, she could not long struggle against the wild throbbing of her own heart, which told her only too plainly that she loved him in return. She therefore at last gave way to his pleading; and letting him now see that his love was returned, she determined to forego all her former scruples on his behalf, that they might both experience that deep wondrous happiness that only comes once in a life-time.

After this, the lovers met constantly, and at length became so enthralled in their passion that they could not bear to be separated; and at last, impatient of the society of their friends, they retired to a country house owned by Violetta some little distance out of Paris, where they could enjoy their bliss undisturbed.

Here they spent three months of perfect happiness, falling more deeply in love every day; and thus wrapped up in each other's sweet presence, they lived for one another alone, and seemed oblivious of the whole world.

But such absorbing joy could not last for ever, and at length the dream was broken.

One day, on returning to the house after a few hours' absence spent in hunting, Alfred met Violetta's maid, Annina; and noticing that the girl appeared travel-stained and somewhat disturbed, he stopped to inquire the reason of her flustered state. Annina replied that she had just returned from Paris, whither she had been sent on business for her mistress; and upon being questioned further, she revealed the fact that she had been making arrangements for the sale of all Violetta's property and possessions, since the luxurious manner in which they had been living of late was expensive, and more means were needed to keep it up.

Filled with compunction that his own selfish enjoyment should have made him forgetful of such mundane but necessary matters, and horrified that Violetta should be about to make such a sacrifice on his behalf, Alfred declared that he would also go to Paris at once to settle the difficulty by paying over a large sum of money to prevent the sales; and, bidding Annina say nothing to her mistress about the matter, he set off for Paris immediately, saying that he would return in a few hours.

Violetta soon afterwards came from her room, and, entering a pretty salon that opened out on the garden, she began to look through a number of papers relating to her business affairs, and to read her letters; and amongst these latter she found a note from her most intimate friend, Flora Bervoix, requesting her presence at a masked ball that evening.

As the happy Violetta was reading this note, and laughingly reflecting that Flora would look in vain for her that evening, a stranger was ushered into the room; and upon turning to greet her visitor, she beheld a gentleman of advanced years, and of haughty, aristocratic appearance, who immediately announced that he was the father of Alfred Germont, her lover, whom, he added in the same breath, she was bringing to ruin.

Then as Violetta drew back indignantly at these words, Monsieur de Germont, though greatly impressed by her dazzling beauty and proud bearing, went on with the difficult task he had come to perform—that of persuading her to renounce his son, and leave him for ever; and in eloquent, but gentle tones, he declared that not only was she ruining Alfred's own social position as heir to one of the proudest names in France, but she was also the means of his sister's hand being refused in marriage, since her aristocratic suitor refused to enter their family whilst her brother was held in thrall by the lovely courtesan.

At first, Violetta hoped that her separation from Alfred was only desired to be a temporary one, in order that his sister's marriage might be arranged; but when she found it was required that they should never meet again, she was overcome with grief, and declared passionately that this could never be, since she could not bear to be parted from the only man she had ever loved.

Though truly grieving for the pain he was inflicting upon one so lovely, M. de Germont still continued his pleading; and he now implored Violetta to reflect upon the good deed she would be doing by renouncing a lover to whose worldly welfare she was a stumbling block, reminding her that in the years to come, when her beauty should have faded, it would be a consolation to her to remember that she had thus restored peace to one home.

By this time, Violetta was weeping bitterly, for she knew only too well that M. de Germont spoke the truth, and that Alfred's position was ruined by his connection with herself; and her love for him was so great that she determined for his sake to make the sacrifice that was required, and in a broken voice declared that she would leave him that very day.

M. de Germont, overcome with gratitude and admiration for her noble resolve, embraced her tenderly, as though she were his own daughter, half regretting the harsh course he had felt compelled to take with one who possessed so generous and brave a heart; and he then retired to another room, there to await the return of Alfred, to whom Violetta promised to write a farewell message at once.

Having written this heart-rending note, Violetta was about to leave the room, when Alfred himself entered, having finished his business in Paris; and seeing her sad looks, he hurried to her side at once, inquiring anxiously for the cause of her gloom. Violetta, however, though terribly agitated, only declared that she wished to hear him say once again that he loved her; and when Alfred had amply satisfied her request, and embraced her tenderly, she retired to the garden without informing him of her new resolve. Here she gave her note into the hands of a servant to deliver to his master; and then, entering a carriage that was already waiting for her, she drove away to Paris with great speed, firmly resolved to keep her promise of renouncing her lover for ever.

By the time the servant delivered the note, she was already far away; and when Alfred read her farewell message, and realised that she had left him with the intention of severing their connection, he was filled with despair. His grief, however, presently turned to jealousy, on perceiving on the table the note from Flora Bervoix, which Violetta had forgotten in her haste, for he immediately drew from this the mistaken conclusion that she had left him to attend Flora's ball that night, with a view to meeting a former admirer, the Baron Duphol, whom he had always regarded as a rival.

It was in vain that his father, who entered the room at this moment, endeavoured to calm the agitated young man, entreating him tenderly to think no more of Violetta, but to return to his own ancestral home, where a glad welcome awaited him; for Alfred, now consumed with bitter jealousy, declared that he would also attend the ball at the house of Flora Bervoix that night, to learn the truth, and avenge his wrongs. Heedless of his father's continued pleadings for him to return to his home, he set off for Paris at once; and M. de Germont, now afraid to leave his headstrong son when in such a disturbed state, followed him, hoping that he might yet be able to curb his passionate outburst in some measure.

That evening a brilliant company of gay pleasure-seekers met at the house of Flora Bervoix, to enjoy the extravagant entertainment which she had prepared so lavishly; and amongst these guests was the Baron Duphol, together with other admirers of the beautiful Violetta. A grand new masque of Gipsies and Spanish Matadors and Picadors was one of the chief features of the entertainment; and it was shortly after this had taken place that Alfred entered, and mingled with the maskers and other guests at the gaming tables.

Violetta also arrived about this time, and, in company with the Baron Duphol, who immediately took her on his arm on seeing her unescorted, moved from room to room, until the gaming tables were reached; and here, on beholding the very man she most wished to avoid, in order to keep her promise to the elder de Germont, the poor girl was so overcome with conflicting feelings, that she drew back, pale and trembling, afraid of what his greeting would be at seeing her in the company of his most detested rival.

Alfred was, indeed, strung up to a high pitch of excitement, and his jealousy and anger was increased tenfold at thus beholding the two together, his suspicions of Violetta's desertion of himself being now confirmed; but, assuming for the time being a careless tone, he challenged the Baron to play with him, which Duphol haughtily accepted.

The stakes were very high, and were doubled each time; and to the amazement of all, Alfred won again and again, his luck being so phenomenally great that the announcement of supper came as a relief to all.

Violetta, who had watched this contest between her lover and the Baron with the greatest anxiety, feeling that their scarcely suppressed passion would break forth on the slightest provocation, and that a duel might be the result, now found an opportunity of attracting Alfred's attention; and, having succeeded in drawing him apart from the guests, she implored him to leave the house, and thus avoid the danger she feared, should a quarrel take place between himself and the Baron. But Alfred, mistaking her motive, and thinking she only wished to save her new lover from his wrath, repulsed her with scorn; and now, quite beside himself with jealousy, he called the guests from the supper table, and openly insulted her before them all, declaring that the favours he had accepted from her when she had professed to love him he now repudiated, and, flinging his heavily-weighted purse at her feet, he called them to witness that he had now paid her for all she had been to him.

Overcome with grief, and wounded to the heart at hearing these cruel words from one whom she loved so passionately, and for whom she had just made so great a sacrifice, poor Violetta fell back fainting into the arms of the sympathetic Flora; and the Baron Duphol immediately demanded satisfaction for the insult that had been put upon the lady he honoured with his attentions, a challenge which Alfred eagerly accepted, reckless of what might happen to him, but full of despair. M. de Germont, who had also witnessed this terrible scene with much grief, now led his agitated son away; and the entertainment ended in confusion and dismay.

Violetta now sank quickly, and grew weaker from day to day; for the dread disease that held her in remorseless grip had been accelerated and alarmingly developed by the terrible mental anguish she had been called upon to suffer, and her end grew rapidly nearer, for the doctor could give no hope of her recovery.

One day, however, as she reclined in bed, being no longer able to rise, she received a letter from M. de Germont, which revived her drooping spirits, and made her feel almost better for the time being; for the proud aristocrat, who had once desired her to renounce his son's love, now entreated her to accept it, for her heroic sacrifice and generous nature had completely won his heart, and he now desired above all things to see them united. He wrote that the duel had taken place, and that though Duphol had been wounded, he was recovering; and he added that Alfred was even now on his way to visit her, and to entreat her pardon, having been told of the noble part she had played, and realising the mistake he had made in supposing that she had accepted Duphol as a lover.

She had scarcely finished reading the letter when Alfred himself was announced, followed shortly afterwards by his father; and hastening forward with eager steps, the young man clasped his beloved one in his arms, and the two rejoiced together with full hearts.

But the delight of seeing her lover once more was too much of an effort for the enfeebled Violetta, who soon fell back fainting, and in a dying condition; and with anxious haste the doctor was summoned immediately.

Alfred, full of horror at now beholding the frailty of the suffering girl's appearance, fell on his knees beside her, passionately imploring her to revive and live for his sake; and his father also added his entreaties, encouraging her by declaring that he hoped to call her his daughter yet.

Violetta, rejoicing at thus finding herself to be so greatly beloved, tried to make an effort to cast off the terrible faintness that constantly seized her; and upon the arrival of the doctor, in spite of the latter's look of pity, she declared that she must now live since such perfect happiness awaited her, and with a bright smile announced that she already felt better.

But scarcely had she spoken thus bravely, than she fell back upon her pillows with closed eyes; and as Alfred bent tenderly over her, he uttered a cry of grief and despair, for he saw that his beautiful and beloved Violetta was dead!

THE MASKED BALL
(Un Ballo in Maschera)

In the city of Boston, Massachusetts, during the early colonial period, disturbances were constantly occurring between the two contending parties of Royalists and Puritans; and at a reception held one evening at the palace of the Governor, Richard, Earl of Warwick, a party of conspirators had mingled amongst the guests, in order to gather information as to the forthcoming movements of the Viceroy, against whose life they were plotting.

Amongst these conspirators were two negroes named Sam and Tom, who were the ringleaders in the affair; but though they and their friends regarded Richard as a tyrant, and hated him as such, they found that he was very strongly guarded by a large majority of devoted adherents, and that their chances of making an attack upon him were small.

The Earl's chief supporter and most trusted official was his own private secretary, a Creole named Renato, who served his leader with a whole-hearted devotion, loving him as his dearest and most honoured friend; but, though Richard returned his Secretary's affection, and was sincerely grateful for his devotion, he had avoided him of late, and had seemed to shrink from their customary intercourse.

The reason for this was the fact that Richard had unfortunately conceived a deep and over-mastering passion for Renato's beautiful young wife, Adelia; and though torn with remorse for the wrong he thus did to his friend, he yet could not conquer the love that had grown up in his heart. In spite of the fact that he had refrained from declaring his passion, he had not succeeded in hiding it from the fair Adelia, who soon as ardently returned it, although she also felt deep remorse at the circumstance; and the unfortunate pair were thus wretchedly situated at the time of the Puritan conspiracy.

On the night of the reception, Richard was too much occupied by his tender thoughts of Adelia to notice that many of his avowed foes were actually present in his own house; and in spite of the whispered warnings of the devoted Renato, he continued to regard the strained political position as exaggerated, and merely scoffed at the idea of serious trouble.

During the meeting, a petition was presented to the Governor for the transporting of an old negress named Ulrica, who was reported to be a sorceress and dealer in the black art; and, utterly regardless of his own personal danger, Richard laughingly declared that before the witch was driven away he would himself consult her on the morrow under a disguise, and urge her to predict the fate in store for him.

The negro conspirators overheard this arrangement; and, hurrying away, they proceeded to gather their party together to plan the assassination of the Governor at the abode of the sorceress, since he would probably be unattended.

In spite of Renato's eager entreaty for him to abandon such a mad scheme of playing into the hands of his enemies, Richard still determined to carry it out; and on the morrow, in the disguise of a sailor, attended only by his faithful page, Edgar, and a few followers, he proceeded to the hut of Ulrica.

Here, surrounded by the usual weird appurtenances of a dealer in magic and sorcery, he found the old hag, who was already granting audiences to certain superstitious folk who had come to have their fortunes told.

As the disguised Earl hung back a while in the gloom of the smoky hut, he observed a veiled lady approach the so-called witch, and ask in a low tone for a potion to cure a guilty love; and to his surprise he recognised the soft voice as that of his beloved Adelia, and was filled with joy to thus learn for certain that she returned his passion, even though she sought a remedy to destroy it. In reply the hag bade her cull at midnight a certain herb, which grew only in a desolate spot outside the city, where murderers were hanged; and as Adelia hurried away, after declaring her intention to seek the herb that very night, her listening lover vowed in his heart that he would follow her thither, in order to protect her from harm.

It was now Richard's turn to have his fortune told; and to the alarm of his attendants, Ulrica, with dramatic intensity, declared that he would shortly meet his death by violence, and that the fatal blow would be struck by the person who should next take his hand. Laughing at the prediction, Richard held out his hand to his friends in turn, who, however, all drew back superstitiously; but when Renato presently appeared on the scene, in order to draw his master away before his disguise should be penetrated by his enemies, the Earl deliberately seized his hand in defiance of the witch's words, well knowing that his secretary was devoted to him.

Late that evening, as midnight approached, Adelia, in fear and trembling, yet firmly resolved in her purpose, made her way with hurried steps to the murderers' gibbet outside the city boundary; and in this wild and lonely spot, which was shunned by all as haunted, she sought the magic herb with which she hoped to quench a love she knew to be disloyal to her husband; and here she was closely followed by Richard, who, as she suddenly uttered an exclamation of terror at the sound of his footsteps, hurried to her side and revealed himself to her. Then, as the moonlight showed him the relief and joy in her face at his greeting, he could no longer retain control of his long-repressed feelings, and, folding her passionately in his arms, he declared his love for her; and Adelia, though still announcing her resolve to banish him from her heart, could not but admit that she returned his love.

This brief moment of supreme happiness was soon rudely interrupted; for angry shouts and approaching flashing lights showed that some disturbance was afoot. The terrified Adelia just had time to drop a heavy veil over her face, when her husband, Renato, dashed up to Richard and eagerly besought him to return with all haste to the palace, declaring that the negro conspirators, Tom and Sam, had tracked him to this spot, and were now approaching quickly with a party of adherents to assassinate him.

At first Richard flatly refused to make his escape, fearing for the fate of the hapless Adelia; but upon Renato promising to escort the lady back to the city, he agreed to fly from the certain danger that threatened him, binding his friend, however, to a solemn promise not to attempt to penetrate the secret of his charge's identity.

Renato, not having the slightest suspicion as to who the veiled lady might be, and anxious only for his revered chief's safety, gave the required promise; whereupon Richard dashed away into the darkness, and reached the palace in safety.

When he had gone Renato took the trembling Adelia by the hand, and hurried her away also; but the pair were quickly spied by the approaching conspirators, who rushed forward to capture them with cries of triumph, believing that they had secured the prize they sought. When, however, they discovered that instead of the tyrant Governor it was Renato they had seized, they were filled with angry disappointment; and upon their indulging in coarse jests and taunts at the expense of the veiled lady, the secretary, eager to defend his master's sweetheart, drew his sword and furiously defied the howling mob.

At this, Adelia, afraid for her husband's life, hurried to his side, entreating him not to anger the people; and, in her agitation, her veil became disarranged, so that her identity was revealed to all.

When Renato thus saw that it was his own beloved wife he had surprised in the company of the Governor, whom he consequently supposed to be her accepted lover, he was almost stunned with the shock of the discovery; and in his rage and despairing grief, he could scarcely refrain from killing Adelia, as she now fell on her knees before him. However, her piteous entreaties to be at least permitted to bid farewell to her little child, and her passionate declaration of innocence, restrained him for the moment; and sternly bidding her return home with him, he resolved to take vengeance upon the Governor, for whom the love and devotion he had borne was now turned to hate.

With this purpose in view, he quickly pacified the angry conspirators by declaring that he intended to join their ranks; and during the succeeding days he held secret interviews with them, in order to arrange a successful opportunity for the assassination of the Governor.

Meanwhile, Adelia was plunged in the deepest despair, fearing that her husband's jealous anger would lead him to some desperate deed; and full of anxiety for the safety of the man she loved, she endeavoured to learn all she could of the plot which she guessed was being hatched against his life.

One day, on suddenly entering a room in which Renato was consulting with the negroes, Sam and Tom, she was coldly commanded by her husband to draw one piece of folded paper from three which had been placed in a vase; for the three conspirators, having now arranged to assassinate the Governor at a splendid masked ball he was to give in a day or two, had determined to draw lots as to who should deliver the fatal blow.

Adelia, fearing to disobey her husband's command, drew forth a paper from the vase; and, horrified by Renato's exultant tone as he announced that it bore his name, she hurried away to her chamber, full of terrifying thoughts. She now felt assured that her husband intended to kill Richard; and suspecting that he hoped to accomplish his fell purpose on the night of the masked ball, she determined, though in no mood for festivity, to attend the function, in order that she might seek an opportunity to warn her lover.

In spite of the deep passion he had conceived for Adelia, Richard had never intended that his love should injure her in any way, and after a mighty struggle with himself, he had determined that they should be parted, from each other; and to this end he made arrangements for the appointment of Renato to a high official position in England. He therefore caused the necessary document making the appointment to be duly drawn up; and on the night of the masked ball he carried it with him, intending to hand it to Renato during the evening.

His friends, knowing that the conspirators had been actively engaged of late, endeavoured to persuade him not to attend the ball; but Richard, ever careless of danger, laughed at their fears as usual, and donning a black domino and mask, boldly mingled with the merry dancers.

Renato, attired in the conspirators' chosen colours of azure and scarlet, also mingled with the dazzling throng, seeking for the Governor; but not knowing his disguise, he was getting impatient of the delay in his plans, when he happened to meet the giddy young page, Edgar, from whom he gained the information he sought.

Meanwhile, Adelia, masked and enveloped in a white domino, also sought for Richard; and at last, to her joy, she heard his voice, and recognised him, in spite of his mask and black domino. Quickly making herself known to him, she eagerly besought her lover to leave the ball-room at once, declaring to him her suspicions of the danger that threatened him; but Richard, still careless of his own safety, would not hurry away, but, instead, proceeded to tell her of the plans he had made for their safety from temptation by the appointment in England he had arranged for her husband. He then took a tender farewell of her, resolving not to see her again; but even as he still held her by the hand, Renato, having at last tracked him, dashed forward in a passion of jealousy, and stabbed him to the heart.

As Richard fell back dying, he painfully drew forth the document making the new appointment, and held it towards Renato; and then, as the horrified guests gathered round, with his last gasping breath he declared that Adelia was entirely innocent and pure, and that in his love for her he had never designed her hurt nor aimed at her peace.

With these words he expired; and Renato, now filled with agonising remorse, realised too late that in his jealous frenzy he had slain a man, who, so far from being base, had faithfully respected the honour of his friend under a terrible temptation.