Place—Paris.
"Madame Sans-Gêne" is an opera that maintains itself in the repertoire largely because of the play that underlies it. The title rôle is delightful. It has been among the successes of several clever actresses, including Ellen Terry, to whose Catherine Henry Irving was the Napoleon. Its creator in the opera was Geraldine Farrar, to whose vivacity in interesting the character, far more than to the musical merit of the work itself, is due the fact that the opera has not dropped out of the repertoire. In point of fact the same composer's "André Chénier" is of greater musical interest, but the leading character does not offer the same scope for acting, which accounts for its having dropped almost entirely out of the repertoire in America.
In "Madame Sans-Gêne," Catherine (in the Italian libretto Caterina) is a laundress. The first act opens in her laundry in Paris during the French Revolution. The nickname of Madame Sans-Gêne, usually translated Madame Free-and-Easy, is given her because of her vivacity, originality, straightforwardness in speech, and charm.
Discharge of cannon and other sounds indicate that fighting is going on in the streets. Three women employed by Catherine are at work in the laundry. Catherine comes in from the street. She tells of her adventures with a lot of rough soldiers. She does this amazingly, but her experience has cured her of her curiosity to see what is going on outside. There is a scene between Catherine and Fouché, a time-server, waiting to observe how matters go, before he decides whether to cast his fortunes with the Royalists or the people. They gossip about a Corsican officer, who owes Catherine for laundry, but is so poor he has been obliged to pawn his watch for bread. Nevertheless, the good-hearted, lively Madame Sans-Gêne continues to do his laundry work for him, and trusts to the future for the bill.
Catherine is left alone. Rifle shots are heard. Count Neipperg, a wounded Austrian officer of the Queen's suite, comes in and asks to be hidden. Although she is of the people, Catherine hides him in her own room. His pursuers enter. It chances they are led by Catherine's betrothed, Sergeant Lefebvre. For a while Catherine diverts the squad from its purpose by offering wine. Lefebvre uncorks the bottle, meanwhile giving a lively description of the sacking of the Tuilleries. There is a scene of affection between him and Catherine. He notices that his hands are black with powder and, intending to wash them in Catherine's room, becomes violently suspicious on finding the door locked. He wrenches the key from her, unlocks the door, enters the room. Catherine, expecting every moment to hear him despatching the wounded man stops up her ears. Lefebvre comes out quietly. He tells her the man in her room is dead. As she is not at all excited, but merely surprised, he knows that he has no cause to suspect that the wounded man is her lover. He will help her to save him. Catherine throws herself into his arms. There are sounds of drums and of marching and shouting in the street. Lefebvre leads out his squad.
Like most modern composers who do not possess the gift for sustained melody, Giordano would make up for it by great skill in the handling of his orchestra and constant depiction of the varying phases of the action. There is considerable opportunity for a display of this talent in the first act of "Madame Sans-Gêne," and the composer has furnished a musical background, in which the colours are laid on in short, quick, and crisp strokes. "The Marseillaise" is introduced as soldiers and mob surge past Catherine's laundry.
Act II. The drawing-room of the Château de Compiègne. The Empire has been established. Lefebvre is a Marshal and has been created Duke of Danzig. Catherine is his duchess. She scandalizes the court with her frequent breaches of etiquette.
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