In the darkness of night the Countess and Susanna, having exchanged clothes, come to put their husbands to the proof; Susanna has been warned by Marcellina of Figaro's designs. Scarcely is the Countess alone, when she is alarmed by the approach of Cherubino, who presses a kiss on the supposed Susanna; the Count, entering on the instant, salutes the page with a box on the ear, which is received instead by the listening Figaro. Alone with the Countess, the Count addresses her in the most endearing terms, presents her with money, and with a costly ring, and endeavours to go off with her; she escapes him in the darkness, and he seeks her in vain.
In the meantime Susanna, as the Countess, comes to the enraged Figaro, but forgetting for a moment to disguise her voice, he recognises her, and turns the tables by proposing to her to revenge herself for her lord's want of faith by her own, whereupon she makes herself known by DA PONTE'S LIBRETTO. boxing his ears. Peace is easily restored by his explanation, and as the Count approaches, seeking his Susanna, they continue to counterfeit love. The Count in a rage calls for his people with torches, Figaro's friends hasten in, and with them the Countess. The Count, to his shame, discovers that it was his wife who accepted his presents and declarations of love, and the pardon which she accords to him brings the confusion to an end.
Such is a mere outline of this amusing play of intrigue, where one knot twisting in with another, one embarrassment growing out of another, call forth ever and again fresh contrivances, while an abundance of effective situations and characteristic detail make the witty and satirical dialogue one of the most graphic character pictures of the time.[ 3 ] Da Ponte has arranged his libretto with much skill, having no doubt received important aid from Mozart himself. The progress of the piece is left almost unaltered, the necessary abbreviations being judiciously made.[ 4 ] Thus, the lengthy trial scene is omitted, and only the result in its bearing on the plot is communicated. Sometimes an under-plot is added, such as Basilio's appearance as Marcellina's lover. The clearness of the plot is not often endangered, as it certainly is by the alteration which omits all mention of a son of Bartolo and Marcellina previous to their recognition of Figaro as their offspring. The musical pieces are introduced with admirable discrimination in such positions as to allow free and natural scope to the musical rendering of each situation without hindering the progress of the plot, and this is no small praise in such a piece as "Figaro." The whole scheme of the drama demands that quite as much attention shall be given to the ensemble movements and finales as LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. the solo airs; and this is of great advantage to the musical construction. The definite and prearranged progress of the action fulfils all the conditions of operatic representation with regard to the position and diversity of the musical pieces; the poetical conceptions are clever and appropriate, a suggestion of Beaumarchais being often amplified in the musical working-out. The French comedy was of wonderful advantage in maintaining the dialogue; and, shortened and modified as it was of necessity, it retained far more of the spirit and life of the original than was usual in the recitatives of opera buffa. This is not indeed the case as far as the German adaptations of the opera are concerned. I am not aware whence proceeded the first translation made use of in Berlin in 1790.[ 5 ] In 1791 Knigge adapted the opera for Schroder in Hamburg;[ 6 ] in 1792 it was given in Vienna, translated by Gieseke; and in 1794 Vulpius's translation appeared. A new translation, giving not only Da Ponte's verses, but Mozart's improvements on them, is a pressing necessity. The vast superiority of "Le Nozze di Figaro," in characterisation, plot, and dialogue, to the very best of opera buffa libretti may be easily discerned by comparing it with other famous operas, such as Casti's "Re Teodoro" or "Grotta di Trofonio." In many essential points "Figaro" overstepped the limits of opera buffa proper, and brought to view entirely new elements of dramatic construction. The political element indeed, on which perhaps most of the effect of the comedy depended, was altogether omitted from the opera. Not only does the dialogue receive its essential character from the satire and scorn which it freely casts upon the abuses of political and social life—the whole tendency of the play is to depict the nobleman of the period, who, himself without truth and honour, demands both from others, indulges his lust without scruple, and thereby causes his dependents, injured in their moral rights, to turn against him their intellectual superiority, so that he is finally DA PONTE'S LIBRETTO. worsted and disgraced. This conception of the nobility and their position in relation to the citizen class is expressed with energy and malice, and found such a response in the prevailing opinions of the time, that the production of the piece against the expressed will of the King appeared to be a public confirmation of the principles which inspired it; and Napoleon might with justice say of "Figaro": "C'était la révolution déjà en action."[ 7 ] Every trace of these feelings has vanished in the opera, as will be clearly perceived by a comparison of the celebrated "Frondeur-monologue" of Figaro in the fifth act with the jealous song in the opera. The omission was made not so much in deference to the Emperor Joseph's scruples as with the right conviction that the political element is altogether out of place in music.
The omission of political satire is the more serious because it leaves as the central point of the plot an immorality which is not exactly justified, but not by any means seriously punished; only treated with a certain frivolity. The noble libertine is opposed by true and upright love, honest devotion to duty and honourable conduct; but these moral qualities are not made in themselves effective; the true levers of the plot are cunning and intrigue employed as weapons of defence. The whole piece appears in a doubtful light, the atmosphere surrounding Count Almaviva is impure, and the suppression of those circumstances which could alone make the phenomenon natural affects more or less the whole spirit of the plot, and deprives the dialogue of much of its point and double meaning.
Beaumarchais might fairly plead that, having undertaken to give a true picture of the manners of his time, absolute truth of conception and detail was necessary to insure the right moral effect; it was for a later age to perceive how completely the author of the satire was himself under the influence of the time which he depicts and would fain improve. This justification is denied to the opera. It has no title to be considered as a picture of morals, neither can it pretend to exercise any direct influence, whether moral or LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. political, on the minds of men. The dialogue is undoubtedly in many respects purer than in the comedy; but the plot and its motives, the chief situations, the whole point of view, become all the more decidedly frivolous. How came it, then the Mozart could choose such a subject for his opera, and that the public could accept it with approbation? It must in the first place be borne in mind that the facts on which the plot is founded, and the point of view from which these facts are regarded, had at that time substantial truth and reality; men were not shocked at seeing on the stage that which they had themselves experienced, and knew to be going on in their own homes. A later age is disgusted by the contrast between semblance and reality, and at the representation of immorality in all its nakedness; the taste of the time demands that it shall be shown after another form and fashion. A glance at the entertaining literature, and even at the operas of the last half of the eighteenth century, shows clearly that representation of immorality plays an important part therein in a form which bespeaks the temper and spirit of the time; and further, that a desire for the representation of moral depravity is an infallible symptom of moral disease. It cannot, therefore, be wondered at that a picture of the moral corruption which penetrated all classes, from the highest to the lowest, and which had brought all social and political relations to the verge of dissolution, should have been regarded with eager approbation and enjoyment. The age which produced and enjoyed "Figaro" took a lighter view of sensual gratification and the moral turpitude connected therewith than that which seems right to a generation grown serious by reason of higher aims and nobler struggles. It need not here be discussed how far manners and opinions which change with the times are to be regarded as absolute morality; the point we are proving is undeniable, and is apparent, often painfully so, in all the light literature and memoirs of the day. Caroline Pichler writes in reference to this very period:[ 8 ]—
There prevailed a taste for all that was beautiful and pleasant in Vienna at that time. The mind had freer movement than at present, and anything might be written and printed which was not in the strictest sense of the word contrary to religion and the state. There was not nearly so much stress laid upon good manners. Plays and romances of a tolerably free tendency were admitted and discussed in good society. Kotzebue was very much thought of. His pieces, as well as Gemmingen's "Deutscher Hausvater," Schroder's "Ring," and many others which are sunk in oblivion, together with a number of tales and romances (Meissner's sketches above all) were founded on indecent subjects. They were read without scruple or concealment by all the world, and every young girl.
I myself saw and read them all repeatedly; "Oberon" I knew well, and Meissner's "Alcibiades." No mother felt any scruple at allowing her daughter to become acquainted with such works; and indeed living examples of what we read moved before us with so little concealment of their irregular and immoral doings, that it would not have been possible for any mother to keep her daughter in ignorance on these points.
It is sufficient to refer to the reading of Wieland's works.
What can be more repugnant to our ideas than to find a young girl writing to her lover:—