KIRKE (CIRCE).
A Music-Tragedy in a Prologue and three acts by AUGUST BUNGERT.
Kirke, the first part of Bungert's Odyssey was given for the first time in Dresden January 29th 1898. It had the same immense success as Odysseus' Return. Nevertheless it is weaker in many parts, which is perhaps due in part to the less congenial subject of its heroine. All the sweet parts of the tragedy, like the chorus of the Oceanides in the Prologue, the quartetti of the four nymphs and Periander's song of Ithaka are perfect in melody and expression. The strong and violent parts are Bungert's weakness they are often rather more noisy and wild than powerful, and they remind strongly of Wagner. Nevertheless the building up of the whole is grand and dramatic, and the hearer's interest never flags.
Prologue. "Polyphemus."
From the sea rises in the form of a chain of mountains the figure of Gäa in blue-green moonlight. Her song, sung by bass voices behind the scene, is about her children, the elect, the conquerors of the world, a race of men steeled by suffering, that struggle from darkness to light; who, lost and wandering during life, with vehement longings, yet remain blind, till in death their eyes are opened—but too late!
Then Eos, as conqueror of the world swings in a galop on his lion to Olympus, singing to his lyre in praise of Love, the Conqueror, to whom men and Gods bow. Olympus appears beyond the clouds. There the Gods are assembled in council to decide the fate of Odysseus. Athene and Hermes plead for the sorely-tried hero. Zeus answers that the immortal Gods know and have determined every step of man's life. He gives his sanction to Athene and Hermes to watch over and defend Odysseus. Again clouds hide the scene. When they part we find ourselves in Sicily before the cavern of Polyphemus the Cyclops. Here Odysseus carries out the cunning plan he has made to free his companions from certain death at the hands of the giant. He blinds the Cyclops with a red-hot stake, and escapes with his friends by clinging to the long fleece of the sheep of Polyphemus, who unsuspectingly lets them out in the morning to graze. Polyphemus, finding himself outwitted by Odysseus,—who makes himself known when at a safe distance,—curses the hero and vows vengeance upon him, calling his father Poseidon to pursue Odysseus with his fury at sea. Friendly sea-nymphs, and Eos (the Dawn) hover round the heroes' ship and speed them in safety on their way.
Act I.
When the curtain rises the kingdom of Kirke, daughter of the sun-god Helios, lies before us, bathed in glowing sunshine. The foreground is a luxurious garden whose groves of palms and fantastic southern trees extend in deepening shade into the background. A colossal sphinx crouches at the gates of Kirke's palace on the left. Springs of water, represented by four attendant nymphs sing to their queen in melodious harmony. But Kirke—a lovely vision in soft flowing robes of yellow hue, with masses of red-gold hair, crowned with sun flowers—cannot be cheered by their sweet songs. She lies on her leopard-skin couch sunk in melancholy; she despairs of ever finding a hero worthy of her love. In wildest grief she bewails her hard lot; many suitors have presented themselves, all have proved low and ignoble in their aims and intentions. She has by her magic given them the outward form that corresponds with their inner nature; the grunting of swine is heard in the distance mingled with the wails and laments of human voices; Kirke listens with rage and contempt; she flings herself back on her couch; she hates the glaring light of day and longs for darkness. The maidens close the gates of the palace. Night comes on and the moon rises.
Odysseus, waiting vainly for the return of his companions, hears from his brother-in-law, Periander who has escaped, that the rest have been changed into swine, after having drunk of the enchantress' cup. Odysseus has set out to seek and rescue them; he is seen wandering in the background among the trees. The friendly God Hermes, invisible, whispers good counsel to Odysseus, and puts into his hand a magic herb which will counteract the enchantment of Kirke's cup. Full of hope and courage, Odysseus knocks for admittance with his sword on the palace gates; they open, and suddenly in dazzling light, Kirke stands before him in all her dangerous beauty and charm. For a moment the hero is overcome with amazement and admiration. Kirke is radiant with joy; here is the world-famed hero at her feet. But again the grunting of swine and cries of grief are heard. Odysseus springs up; drawing his sword he commands Kirke to free her victims; she vainly tries to resist; she offers him her fatal cup. Odysseus takes it, but unobserved he drops the magic herb of Hermes into it, then drinks the now harmless draught. Kirke, swaying her magic wand looks to see Odysseus immediately transformed as his companions were; but he remains unchanged, and commands her to free his friends. Kirke, vanquished, obeys. One by one the men rush out of the palace in their natural forms and warmly thank and praise their deliverer. But Odysseus has himself fallen into the power of the enchantress; a wild passion has taken possession of him; he forgets his duty, his wife and child. Hastily dismissing his companions he falls into Kirke's arms.
Wondering and distressed Periander returns singing Penelope's song; he approaches and endeavours to rouse Odysseus to a sense of his duty; he reminds him of home and wife and child, but in vain; the infatuated hero, under the influence of this unholy passion, so far forgets himself as in furious rage to attack Periander with his spear. Periander in grief and despair turns to depart, and is mortally wounded by the spear of Odysseus which the latter hurls at him in his flight.