There is no more exquisite music, than the romance of the boatsmen on the Nile, sung with closed lips at the opening of the first scene, and the ravishing dance of the Almée, an invention of Arabic origine is so original, so wild and melancholy and yet so sweet, that it enchants every musical ear. The plot is very simple and meagre.
Harun, a rich young Turk has enjoyed life to its very dregs. He gives dinners, plays at dice, he keeps women, but his heart remains cold and empty, he disbelieves in love, and only cares for absolute freedom in all his actions, but withal his life seems shallow and devoid of interest. Every month he engages a new female slave, with whom he idles away his days, but at the end of this time she is discarded. His antipathy for love partly arises from the knowledge of his father's unhappy married life.
At the opening of the scene Harun lies on a couch smoking, too lazy to move a finger and lulled into dreams by the boatsmen's songs. At last he rouses himself from his lethargy, and tells his secretary and former tutor Splendiano of his visions. The latter is looking over his master's accounts, and now tells him dryly, that, if he continues his style of living, he will be ruined before the end of the year. This scarcely moves the young man, to whom a year seems a long way off; he also takes it cooly, when Splendiano remarks, that the latest favorite's month is up, and that Djamileh is to leave towards evening, to make room to another beauty. Harun carelessly charges his servant to look out for another slave. When Splendiano sees, that Djamileh's unusual beauty has failed to impress his master, he owns to a tender feeling for her himself, and asks for permission to win the girl. Harun readily grants this request; but when he sees Djamileh enter with sad and dejected looks, he tenderly inquires, what ails her. She sings him a strange and melancholy "Ghasel" about a girl's love for a hero, and he easily guesses her secret. In order to console her, he presents her with a beautiful necklace, and grants her her freedom, at which she brightens visibly, but refuses it. Harun however has no idea of losing either heart or liberty, and when some friends visit him, he turns from her, to join them in a game, leaving her unveiled, and exposed to their insolent stares and admiration. Djamileh, covered with confusion, begins to weep, at which Splendiano interposes, trying to console her by the offer of his hand. Scornfully repulsed by her, he reveals to her the cruel play of his master, and her approaching dismissal, and drives her almost to despair. But she resolves to show her love to her master before she leaves him, and for this purpose entreats Splendiano to let her disguise herself and personate the new slave; promising to be his, if her plans should fail, but vowing to herself, to choose death rather than leave her beloved master. The evening approaches, and with it the slave-dealer with a whole bevey of beautiful young girls. Harun turns from them indifferently, ordering Splendiano to choose for him, but the slave-dealer insists upon showing up the pearl of his flock, a young Almée, who dances the most weird and passionate figures until she sinks back exhausted. She is selected, but Splendiano gives 200 zechines to the dealer, who consents to let her change clothes with Djamileh. When the latter reenters Harun's room veiled, he is astonished to find her so shy and sad. In vain he tries to caress her, she escapes him, but suddenly unveiling herself, he recognizes her. With wild and passionate entreaty she begs him to let her be a slave again, as she prefers his presence to freedom and fortune. At first he hesitates, but true love conquers, and he takes her in his arms. He has found his heart at last, and owns that love is stronger and better than any other charm.
DONNA DIANA.
Comic Opera in three acts by E. VON REZNICEK.
Text after a free translation of MORETO'S comedy of the same name.
Many are the authors, who have dramatized this old, but ever young and fresh comedy, but yet none have so nearly reached the ideal, as this young composer. His manner of interweaving Spanish national airs is particularly successful, because they tinge the piece with peculiar local colouring.
The Spanish melodies are chosen with exquisite elegance and skill.
Reznicek's manner of composing is thoroughly modern; he has learnt much from Wagner and Liszt and not least from Verdi's "Falstaff"; nevertheless he is always original, fresh and so amusing, so sparkling with wit and genius, that I am tempted to call Donna Diana the modern comic opera par excellence. Sometimes the orchestra is almost too rich for Moreto's playful subject, but this is also quite modern, and besides it offers coloristic surprises very rare in comic operas.