At the beginning of the second act Idomeneo is in conversation with Arbace. He communicates to him his fearful vow, from the fulfilment of which he wishes to escape. Arbace represents to him that this is impossible. But when he hears that Idamante is to be the sacrifice, he counsels his being sent to a distant country, and that during his banishment they should seek to appease the wrath of Neptune. Idomeneo decides upon commanding Idamante to accompany Electra to Argos, and there ascend the throne, and commissions Arbace to bid him prepare for the journey. Arbace promises obedience (aria, 11), and departs. Ilia now appears, expresses delight at Idomeneo's safety, and, while extolling Idamante's goodness, declares her own gratitude and submission (aria, 12). Her warmth causes Idomeneo to suspect their love, and his grief and confusion are thereby augmented (aria, 13). Electra, entering, thanks him for his care. He leaves her alone, and she expresses her joy at the fulfilment of her dearest wishes (aria, 14). The warriors assemble in the harbour to the sound of a march (15). Electra appears with her followers, the sea is calm, and all look forward to a fortunate voyage (chorus, 16). Idomeneo dismisses Idamante, who sees in this command a fresh proof of his father's inexplicable displeasure. They express their opposing sentiments in a terzet (17). As they prepare to embark, a terrific storm arises, and a huge sea-monster rises from the waves. This convinces Idomeneo that his IDOMENEO—PLOT. disobedience has offended Neptune, and he determines to die himself, and not to sacrifice the innocent. "The storm continues to rage, the Cretans fly, and the act closes with the expression of their fear and horror by singing and pantomimic dancing."
Ilia opens the third act, bewailing her unhappy love (aria, 19). Idamante surprises her, and declares his resolve to seek death in combat with the monster who is laying waste the land; this leads to a disclosure of her love, and the two express their happiness in a duet (20). Idomeneo, entering with Electra, discovers them; he cannot bring himself to acknowledge to Idamante the true cause of his mysterious behaviour, but commands him anew to leave Crete at once, and seek an asylum in a distant land. The various emotions of those present are expressed in a quartet (21). Idamante having departed, Arbace enters and announces that the people are hurrying with the high priest at their head to demand deliverance from the monster; Idomeneo goes to meet them, and Arbace expresses his earnest wish for the happiness of his ruler (aria, 22). On an open space in front of the castle the high priest appears with the multitude; he describes the ravages of the monster, which can only be terminated by the fulfilment of Idomeneo's vow, and demands to know the name of the promised victim (23). When Idomeneo names his son as the sacrifice, horror seizes the people (chorus, 24). During a march (25) Idomeneo with his subjects enters the temple of Neptune, and while the priests prepare for the sacrifice they offer their solemn prayers to the god (26); cries of joy are heard from afar, and Arbace hastens in and announces that Idamante has slain the monster in heroic combat. Idamante is presently borne in by priests and warriors, crowned and in white robes; he now knows his father's vow, and satisfied as to his feelings towards him, he is ready to fall a joyful sacrifice to the angry god (aria, 27). As Idomeneo is in the act of striking the fatal blow, Ilia hastens in and restrains him; she insists upon taking the place of her lover, and a tender strife arises between them, which Idomeneo listens to with emotion, Electra with rage and jealousy. As Ilia kneels before the altar, "a great subterranean disturbance is heard, the statue of Neptune totters, the high priest stands entranced before the altar, all are amazed and motionless from fear, while a deep and majestic voice declares the will of the gods": Idomeneo is to renounce the throne, which Idamante is to ascend, and to be united to Ilia (28). At this unexpected issue, Electra breaks into violent anger, and "goes off raging"; Idomeneo arranges everything according to the divine will (30), and expresses his grateful joy (aria, 31); Idamante is crowned in a pantomimic ballet, during which the chorus sing a joyful conclusion to the opera (32).[ 2 ]
Varesco omitted the prologue of his original, and reduced the five acts to the customary three. He also left out altogether the divinities and allegorical personages, which were somewhat prominent in the French text; and of three confidants he retained only Arbace. For the rest he follows the progress of the plot pretty closely, only judiciously omitting the love of Idomeneo for Ilia, and altering the conclusion. In the original, Idomeneo, after voluntarily raising his son to the throne, and bestowing on him the hand of Ilia, is stricken with madness by Nemesis, and slays Idamante with the sacrificial axe. He is then prevented from committing suicide, but Ilia falls by her own hand. Metastasio had weaned Italian opera from such horrors. Varesco naturally looked to opera seria as the foundation of his adaptation,[ 3 ] but he endeavoured at the same time to make use of the distinctive features of French opera. This is evident in his care for variety of scenery and machinery, in the marches and processions which occur in every act, and in the pantomimic dances which are made subservient to the plot. Further, the frequent introduction of the chorus was evidently suggested by French opera, and a marked progress displayed in the fact that the chorus was not employed merely to heighten the pomp of the piece, but took part in the action at critical moments, and expressed important dramatic situations. The ensembles, too, are not placed in regular succession at the end of the acts, without reference to the plot; they occur naturally as the piece proceeds, and have a dramatic signification of their own. Such movements are indeed rarely introduced, and not all the suitable points are made use of for them; no attempt is made either to unite the several connected points of the plot into a musical whole in the finale, but rather each separate situation has its own independent musical treatment.[ 4 ] On the other hand, there VARESCO'S LIBRETTO. is an evident intention to give the piece a tragic tone rather than that of the then prevalent effeminate tenderness, and to invest the characters with a psychological interest, and the plot with natural development and climax. It must be admitted that the success is but partial. Varesco was no poet, and the spirit of French tragedy was not calculated to raise him to a higher sphere than that of Italian opera. Conventionality predominates, passion and emotion find but unnatural expression, pedantry and exaggeration, both alike untrue, jostle each other; and the plot hangs on such slender threads that, in spite of the strong passions which are set in motion, it awakens no lively interest. The weak points both of French and Italian opera are here combined; but there are other faults belonging more especially to the latter. Such, for example, is the giving of the part of Idamante to a male soprano, and employing the bass voice only for the subordinate part of the Oracle. Idomeneo is tenor, according to traditional usage, and stands almost alone against three soprano voices, for Arbaces as second tenor acts only as a stop-gap, and the high priest only appears once in an obbligato recitative. Generally speaking the airs do not form the culminating point of a dramatic situation, but only close it with a kind of point. Frequently they have only a commonplace phrase or an elaborated image for their subject, and all their individuality is bestowed upon them by the music. Varesco is nevertheless a practised verse-maker, who has employed, not without skill, the materials he found ready to hand, but is far removed from Metastasio's delicacy and grace.
With all its drawbacks the advantage of a settled tradition is very visible, the external arrangements, such as the distribution among the characters of the different pieces being carefully carried out. In short, if "Idomeneo" is compared with Mozart's earlier operas, the progress in the choice and treatment of material is very marked. Such an absolute blending of the essential features of French and Italian opera as is aimed at does not indeed take place; a compromise between the two had first to be made. It can scarcely be doubted that Mozart had a share in the construction of the libretto in its more important parts, and that IDOMENEO. his experiences in Mannheim and Paris had qualified him for the task; but his influence was not felt in the details of the work.
When the libretto was ready, and part of the music composed, Mozart repaired to Munich, according to custom, to finish the opera on the spot. After a journey in the postcarriage, "which shook the soul out of one's body," and gave him not an instant's sleep, he wrote to his father (November 8, 1780), "Joyful and glad was my arrival!" There was plenty to be done: the opera was to be rehearsed, to be put on the stage, and the greater part of it was still unwritten. How much of it he took with him ready to Munich is not precisely known; probably the majority of the recitatives, the first act, and perhaps part of the second; at all events his first letters mention some of the songs as already composed.
He was able to set to work with a good heart, for he was met with goodwill on all sides. Count Seeau was altogether at his service; and when they sometimes fell out, and Mozart was provoked to be rude, it was always the Count who gave way. The Elector received him very graciously. "I had almost forgotten the best!" he writes (November 15, 1780); "Count Seeau presented me en passant to the Elector last Sunday, after mass; he was very gracious, and said, 'I am glad to see you here again.' And when I said that I would endeavour to deserve the approbation of his highness, he patted me on the shoulder and said, 'Oh, I have no doubt it will all go very well indeed.' A piano piano si va lontano!" The nobility, too, were favourably disposed towards him. Cannabich introduced him to the Countess Baumgarten, who was then the favourite of the Elector. "My friend is everything in this house," he writes (November 13, 1780), "and I, too, now; it is the best and most useful house here for me, and so far all has gone, and by God's help will go, well with me." He was able, therefore, to satisfy his father as to the success of the opera (November 24, 1780): "Have no care as to my opera, dear father; I hope there will be no hitch. A little cabal is opposed to it, but it will certainly come to grief, for all the best and most powerful houses THE MUNICH SINGERS. of the nobility are in my favour, as well as the principal musicians, especially Cannabich."[ 5 ]
There was, at all events, no opposition to be feared on the part of the singers or the orchestra; they and Mozart were mutually anxious to satisfy each other. But their joint labours and the requirements of the stage showed many alterations in the text to be necessary, and Varesco must have been often appealed to to undertake these, or to sanction proposed changes. Among the performers for whom he wrote, Dal Prato gave him some real trouble. Soon after his arrival he had "a piece of roguery" to narrate (November 8, 1780): "I have not indeed the honour of knowing the heroic Dal Prato, but according to the description Ceccarelli must be better than he; for sometimes his breath fails in the middle of a song, and, nota bene, he was never on the stage, and Raaff is like a statue. Now, you may imagine the scene in the first act, the meeting of Idomeneo and Idamante." Further acquaintance with Dal Prato justified the reports concerning him. "My molto amato Castrato dal Prato," he writes (November 15,1780), "requires teaching the whole opera"; "he has to learn his part like a child, and has not a pennyworth of method" (November 22, 1780). He was the stumbling block also in the quartet, which had to be rehearsed six times before it went right.
"The fellow can do nothing," complains Mozart (December 30, 1780); "his voice would not be so bad if he did not sing in his throat and head, but he is absolutely without intonation or method or sentiment, and sings like the best among the boys who come to be heard when they seek admission to a choir."
He had trouble of quite another kind with his "dear old friend" Raaff. He was exceedingly fanciful, and Mozart made many alterations out of love for him and consideration for his gray hairs (December 27, 1780):—