“Can you not hear the cries of the innocent dragged into this infernal drama,—a persecuted creature? ‘Non, non,’” sang Gambara, who made the consumptive piano sing. “His native land and tender emotions have come back to him; his childhood and its memories have blossomed anew in Robert’s heart. And now his mother’s shade rises up, bringing with it soothing religious thoughts. It is religion that lives in that beautiful song in E major, with its wonderful harmonic and melodic progression in the words:
“Car dans les cieux, comme sur la terre,
Sa mere va prier pour lui.
“Here the struggle begins between the unseen powers and the only human being who has the fire of hell in his veins to enable him to resist them; and to make this quite clear, as Bertram comes on, the great musician has given the orchestra a passage introducing a reminiscence of Raimbaut’s ballad. What a stroke of art! What cohesion of all the parts! What solidity of structure!
“The devil is there, in hiding, but restless. The conflict of the antagonistic powers opens with Alice’s terror; she recognizes the devil of the image of Saint Michael in her village. The musical subject is worked out through an endless variety of phases. The antithesis indispensable in opera is emphatically presented in a noble recitative, such as a Gluck might have composed, between Bertram and Robert:
“Tu se sauras jamais a quel exces je t’aime.
“In that diabolical C minor, Bertram, with his terrible bass, begins his work of undermining which will overthrow every effort of the vehement, passionate man.
“Here, everything is appalling. Will the crime get possession of the criminal? Will the executioner seize his victim? Will sorrow consume the artist’s genius? Will the disease kill the patient? or, will the guardian angel save the Christian?
“Then comes the finale, the gambling scene in which Bertram tortures his son by rousing him to tremendous emotions. Robert, beggared, frenzied, searching everything, eager for blood, fire, and sword, is his own son; in this mood he is exactly like his father. What hideous glee we hear in Bertram’s words: ‘Je ris de tes coups!’ And how perfectly the Venetian barcarole comes in here. Through what wonderful transitions the diabolical parent is brought on to the stage once more to make Robert throw the dice.
“This first act is overwhelming to any one capable of working out the subjects in his very heart, and lending them the breadth of development which the composer intended them to call forth.
“Nothing but love could now be contrasted with this noble symphony of song, in which you will detect no monotony, no repetitions of means and effects. It is one, but many; the characteristic of all that is truly great and natural.