at which he exclaims, "Ho capito, signor si," shows by the monotonous repetition of increasingly emphatic bars how engrossed he is in the one idea which has taken possession of his mind. The two motifs with which he sarcastically addresses Zerlina and Don Giovanni are also admirably characteristic; and equally so the conclusion, where he does not know how to stop; and the syncopated rhythm adds not a little force to the expression of his perplexity.
Zerlina's two airs are in vivid contrast to the coarse and boorish, but honest character of her lover. They express neither affection nor tenderness, but rather the consciousness of her own superiority, which her intercourse with Don Giovanni has revealed to her. Hers is one of those easy natures which are volatile without being actually untrue, whose feelings are the children of the passing moment, and whose charm is enhanced by the excitement of the moment. The master has inspired this lovely and graceful form with a breath of warm sentiment, without which she would be cold; and her roguish smile saves her from the reproach of mere sentimentality. The first air (Act I., 12) takes its tone from Zerlina's desire to pacify Masetto; but there is no trace of a need for forgiveness—of the consciousness of an unlawful love; she disarms her lover's wrath with caressing tenderness, and gives him glimpses of bliss which he is far too weak to resist.
It would be impossible to conceive a more charming love-making, and no false note of sentimentality mars the graceful picture. The obbligato violoncello lends itself in a singular degree to the individual characterisation, its restless DON GIOVANNI. movement and soft low sound standing in happiest contrast to the clear fresh voices; the accompaniment completes what the singer leaves unsaid. It portrays the anxious hesitation in the minds of both the lovers; and not until the second part does the motion flow free and full, till all resentment dies away in gentle murmurings. The second air (Act II., 5), corresponds to a different situation. Masetto has been beaten, and Zerlina tries to console him; if she were to put on an air of sentimental gravity it would appear absurd; the roguish playfulness with which Mozart has endowed the broader merriment indicated by the words is far more appropriate here, and gives the expression of pure and tender grace, which renders this one of the most attractive of songs. The clearness and brightness of the instrumentation compared with that of the first air is very striking.
Very different is Don Giovanni's behaviour towards Elvira.
This ungrateful part of a deserted mistress has for the most part been neglected. If a great artist, such as Schroder-Devrient, had conceived the idea of embodying on the stage the dignified character of Elvira as Mozart created it, the representation of the opera would have been placed on an altogether different footing. Elvira is in an outward position of equality with Don Giovanni. She is his superior in nobility of mind, and she has been deeply injured by him. Her first air (Act I., 3)[ 164 ] shows her as a woman of strong character and passionate feeling, as far from the ladylike reserve of Donna Anna as from the youthful grace of Zerlina. As unreservedly as she had given her love to Don Giovanni does she now yield to her thirst for revenge, and even this proceeds not so much from injured pride as from disappointed love, ready to burst in new flames from its ashes. The tone-colouring of the instrumentation in this air is in very striking contrast to that of the previous songs; clarinets are used for the first time, and with the horns and bassoons (no flutes) give a full and brilliant effect. Don Giovanni overhearing her, and sympathising with her while ELVIRA. not recognising her, together with the running comments he makes on her to Leporello, add a mixture of humour to the scene which could not be more gracefully expressed. The laugh is unsparingly turned against Elvira, and is occasioned by the passionateness with which she has compassed her own discomfiture. The musical rendering clearly shows that in her proper person she remains unaffected by it. Resolved to pursue Don Giovanni, and defeat his machinations, she intercepts him as he is hastening into his casino with Zerlina, and exclaims to the deluded maid:—
Ah! fuggi il traditor!
Non lo lasciar più dir;
Il labbro è mentitor
E falso il ciglio!
Da' miei tormenti impara
A creder a quel cor
A nasca il tuo timor
Dal mio periglio!
This air, unlike the rest of the opera, retains the form of the older school, then still frequently heard in church music.[ 165 ] Apparently Mozart made use of the severe, harsh form which at once suggests the idea of sacred music to the hearer, in order to give the impression of a moral lecture, and to emphasise the contrast with the "gay intoxication of self-forgetfulness" of the rest of the scene.[ 166 ] This mode of address was appropriately and suggestively employed towards the peasant maid; but Elvira adopts quite another tone when she returns and finds Don Giovanni in close converse with Donna Anna. In the quartet (Act I., 8) (likely 9, DW) her warning, in accordance with the exalted rank of the mourners, takes a plaintive tone, and her passion only flares up again when roused by Don Giovanni's duplicity. Then she comes forward, and her energetic tone predominates in the ensemble movements, although the silent power of true nobility and grief exerts a moderating influence on her expressions of passion. She makes a similar impression DON GIOVANNI. in the first finale (Act I., 13). She has explained herself to Donna Anna and Don Ottavio, and they are leagued together to watch and to expose Don Giovanni. When they appear masked in front of the casino she encourages them to act boldly; Don Ottavio chimes in with her, but Donna Anna is seized with maidenly fears face to face with such an adventure. All this is expressed in the most admirable manner, and a few touches suffice to place the two women before us in all the dissimilarity of their natures. The accompaniment, too, is unusually characteristic. In sharp contrast to the cheerful excitement in which Don Giovanni, Zerlina, and Masetto make their exit stands the mournful accompaniment to Elvira, while Don Ottavio's powerful tenor notes are infused with additional energy by the accented passage? for the wind instruments. The accompaniment, without altering its essential character, adopts at Donna Anna's entrance an anxious plaintive tone expressive of the purity and elevation of her mind. After a short colloquy with Leporello, who invites them to enter, the three, confident in the justice of their cause, prepare for their difficult enterprise. After the restless energy of the previous scene this clear and composed expression of a deeper emotion diffuses a sense of calm beneficence. The construction of the movement places Donna Anna and Don Ottavio in close juxtaposition; Elvira is placed in opposition to them and, in accordance with her character, she is more animated and energetic. Here again the desired effect is much strengthened by the support of the orchestra. It was unusual to make use of the wind instruments alone in accompaniments; and in addition to this the full soft sound of the extended chords contrasts strikingly with the deep tones of the clarinets, heard now for the first time. What a contrast it forms, too, to the tone-colouring of the preceding movement; one feels for the moment transported to another world. Scarcely have the last echoes died away when the sharp attack of the orchestra on the following movement brings us down to earth again. In the scene which follows it is Elvira who is ever on the watch—who with Don Ottavio intercepts and ELVIRA—TERZET. unmasks Don Giovanni; after that she falls into her place with the rest. Implacable as Elvira shows herself in her pursuit of revenge on Don Giovanni, her love for him has taken such deep root in her heart, his personality exercises such a magic power over her, that she is ready to forget all that is past, and to trust herself to him again. Poetry could only make this visible by means of a chain of connecting links; music is happier in its power of rendering the most hidden springs of human action; once let the right key be struck, and the state of mind to be represented is there. And seldom has a frame of mind incapable of verbal description been so truly and beautifully expressed as in this terzet (Act II., 2). A short ritomello places the hearer in a frame of mind which enables him to give credence to what he is about to learn. Elvira, alone in the twilight, comes to the window; old memories awaken old feelings, which, while she deplores them, she cannot escape. Don Giovanni, who is present, resolves to turn this softened mood to account; he wishes to drive Elvira away, and a fresh triumph over her affections is a satisfaction to his arrogant vanity. Leporello in his master's hat and cloak is made to advance, and Don Giovanni, concealed behind him, addresses Elvira tenderly in the very notes which have just issued from her mouth. Don Giovanni's appeal comes to her like an echo of her own thoughts. She interrupts him with the same lively reproaches which she has already uttered to herself, while he prays for her pity with the most melting tenderness. Elvira is overcome, and thereupon very appropriately the motif occurs with which Leporello first expressed his consternation at Elvira's appearance. Don Giovanni persists all the more urgently in the same tone, and the turn of expression just alluded to is developed, with a startling impetus produced by the transition to the key of C major, into a cantilene of entrancing beauty.[ 167 ] DON GIOVANNI. He answers Elvira's violent reproaches ("con transporto e quasi piangendo," Mozart has noted them) with exclamations of increasing passion, and threatens to kill himself if she does not grant his prayer. The feeling that Elvira must yield to so passionate an outburst of the love towards which her heart impels her is mingled with a sense of Leporello's ludicrous situation, and we feel no incongruity in his fit of laughter. But when Elvira actually yields, even Leporello cannot withhold his sympathy from her, while Don Giovanni mockingly triumphs in his victory. In a certain sense the two have exchanged their parts as well as their clothes. This terzet may safely be cited as an example of how simplicity of design and regularity of construction may unite with perfect beauty and truth of expression into a piece of genuine dramatic characterisation; but who can express in words the tender fragrance of loving desire which breathes from the music like the perfumes from an evening landscape? If we are to infer Don Giovanni's character from the duet with Zerlina (Act I., 6), the serenade (Act II., 3), and this terzet, we have the picture of an engaging and amiable personality which strikes every tone of affection and desire with bewitching grace and delicacy, and with an accent of such true feeling that it is impossible for the female heart to withstand him. This is not the whole of Don Giovanni's character, however. When Elvira's weakness has betrayed her into an equivocal position, Don Giovanni's heartless insolence places her in a situation which only Leporello's comic character prevents from becoming an exceedingly painful one. The fear which takes undisputed possession of him during the interview reflects a comic light upon Elvira, but without interfering with her preconceived character. Mozart has succeeded admirably in the sestet (Act II., 6) in maintaining Elvira's dignity of deportment both towards the craven Leporello and her former allies; she never sinks below herself; but the consciousness of her weakness and of the dastardly trick played upon her has broken her spirit. There is no trace of the energetic, flaming passion of the earlier Elvira; Donna Anna's pure ELVIRA—INSERTED AIR—FINALE. form rises high above her, and she no longer takes the lead in the expression of astonishment and indignation. After the sestet, when Leporello had escaped from the hands of Zerlina, there was inserted in Vienna an air for Elvira, in which the violence of her passion is moderated to a degree almost incredible. The softened mood in which the feeling of her inextinguishable love is expressed no longer as anger against the traitor, but as pity for the lost sinner, is, when rightly delivered,[ 168 ] most admirably represented; but the dignity and nobleness which have stilled the waves of sorrow and revenge are not really consistent with the fire and force of the true Elvira. Then, also, the accents of disappointed love, which Mozart knew how to evoke with such masterly insight, are scarcely present at all in this air. Nevertheless, considered musically it is of great beauty, and the voices are most effectively supported by obbligato solo instruments, which are never elsewhere used in exactly the same way by Mozart. This charming piece is not inappropriate in its own place, but it does not render either situation or character with the same breadth or accuracy which Mozart elsewhere displays in "Don Giovanni." Any idea of a closer connection with Don Giovanni being now out of the question, Elvira, feeling also that her own existence is rendered worthless, resolves to enter a convent. But her character and her undying affection forbid her to part for ever from Don Giovanni without calling him to repentance and amendment. Her entrance in the second finale interrupts the merriment of Don Giovanni and Leporello at table, and, like a landscape in changing lights, the whole tone of the music is altered at a stroke.[ 169 ] Her warning here is very different to that which she addressed to Zerlina. A stream of glowing words comes from the very depths of her love-tossed heart, and beats in vain against the overweening pride of her heartless betrayer. At first he seeks to treat her appeal as a jest, which may be humoured; and when her prayers, her tears, her dismay are thereby DON GIOVANNI. redoubled, he mocks at her with all the frivolity of his pleasure-seeking nature. This is too much even for Leporello: he sympathetically approaches Elvira; and the effect is very fine, when the same notes which seemed to threaten annihilation by their weight at Elvira's entrance are heard from the mouth of Leporello. Don Giovanni's overbearing insolence increases and calls down upon him the fate to which, now that even Elvira has left him, he is doomed to hasten. This scene is again a very masterpiece of high dramatic art. A flow of passionate emotion, like a lava stream down the mountain side, succeeds to the loosely connected musical jests of the supper-table. The very change of tone-colouring is of the greatest significance. The first noisy and brilliant movement, with its trumpets and drums and lively passages for the stringed instruments, is succeeded by the arranged harmony music, against which the full orchestra, with the combined strength of wind and stringed instruments, stands in bold relief. Don Giovanni and Elvira are here for the first time opposed on equal terms. Her passionate emotion is purified and ennobled without any loss of strength or reality; and he displays an energy and keen enjoyment of life which would have something great in it if it were directed to higher aims, but which here excites only horror. It prepares us for the resistance which he is to make to the spectral apparition; but the insolent scorn with which he hardens himself against Elvira's prayers is more shocking to the feelings than his determined resistance to the horrors of the nether world, wherein we cannot but grant him our sympathy. Sharply accented as are the mocking tone of mind and the sensuality of Don Giovanni, we never find him vulgar or revolting. This is due to the combination of strength and boldness with beauty of form in the music allotted to him. What can be more impressive than the oft-repeated motif given to Don Giovanni:—[See Page Image] DON GIOVANNI'S CHARACTER. with no support but a simple bass, in strong contrast to the rich accompaniment elsewhere employed? His good breeding is as characteristic of him as his love of enjoyment, and is shown at his first entrance in his behaviour towards Donna Anna and the Commendatore. There is no roughness in his struggle with her, and he would fain avoid violence, as also in the combat with her father; not until his honour as a cavalier has been touched to the quick does he draw his sword, and the result of the duel causes him genuine emotion. True, his nobler impulses are not of long duration; he is destitute of generosity or nobility of mind, and his highest quality is mere brute courage. In the churchyard scene, when his arrogance has brought matters to a crisis, and Leporello has made his terrified exit, the horror of his situation rouses all Don Giovanni's determination, and he passes the bounds of foolhardiness in his defiance of the spectre. This scene, however, in which the defiance of a mortal is forced to yield to the higher powers, is a necessary sequel to the preceding one with Elvira, in which the moral conflict has just been fought out. Its pathos redeems it from burlesque, and spreads an impression of horror which overmasters human reason. Mozart's success in the combination of these qualities into a whole of harmonious beauty has already been admired by us as the work of a genius. Gracious and winning manners and overflowing strength and animal spirits, combined with the refinement of good birth and breeding and the frankness of a jovial temperament, produce a picture of a man richly endowed by nature, but requiring to bend to moral restraint before he can be called great or noble. He attracts liking, he rouses sympathy, but he is doomed to final overthrow.
Donna Anna,[ 170 ] as the representative of intellectual elevation and moral purity, is placed in strong contrast to this seductive being, who attracts and degrades all with whom he comes in contact. She triumphs over him from the first, DON GIOVANNI. the magic of his presence being powerless to affect her pure spirit. But her maidenly pride resents his unworthy advances; the idea that an insult so great should remain unpunished rouses such passion within her, that she loses sight of all save her just revenge. The music gives a tone of nobility and elevation to her passionate excitement, stamping her at once as the superior nature to which Don Giovanni yields, not only that he may escape recognition, but because he cannot help himself. Her relation to him preserves this tone throughout, and there is no subsequent suggestion of any closer or more personal interest.
Hoffmann's infelicitous idea that Donna Anna had been dishonoured by Don Giovanni is contradicted by Da Ponte's libretto, which emphasises her affection for Don Ottavio as repeatedly and decidedly as does the high-pitched ideality of the music. It is a grievous error to suppose that her "high-tragedy manner" towards her betrothed arises from the consciousness of shame and from falsehood and hypocrisy, and not rather from an elevated sense of pride and pure morality and from filial grief for her murdered father. Hoffmann's conception of the two chief characters, and their; relations to each other, though often quoted,[ 171 ] is in many respects a misleading one. A Don Giovanni, a very demon, who seeks in sensual love to satisfy his cravings for the supernatural; who, weary and satiated with earthly pleasures, despising mankind, and in utter scorn against nature and his Creator seeks to compass the ruin of every woman he meets, is as foreign to the age, the character, and the music of Mozart as a Donna Anna who, loving the greatness which originally existed in Don Giovanni, yields to him without resistance, only to feel doubly conscious of her abasement and absorbed in the desire for revenge.
Upon her return with Don Ottavio she finds her father a corpse, and, after making the most pitiful lamentations, she becomes insensible. Coming to herself her first DONNA ANNA. half-unconscious exclamation is for her father; she imagines that the murderer is before her, and beseeches him to slay her also. When the dread certainty has brought her to full consciousness, she collects all her forces for revenge. She makes Ottavio swear vengeance on the murderer, and her excitement rises to an unnatural joy at the prospect of the fulfilment of their gloomy task. The musical rendering of this state of mind is perfect. The high-pitched mood of Donna Anna is characterised with so much precision and delicacy, and the continuous climax is so consistent and well connected, chiefly by virtue of the musical construction, that we feel ourselves taken captive and prepared to accept what we hear as the involuntary outbursts of passion.[ 172 ] Even Don Ottavio's consolatory words, sharply as they contrast in their cantilene-like delivery with Donna Anna's broken interjections, betray in their restless accompaniment and changing harmonies the inner disquiet from which he cannot free himself. As soon, however, as the thought of revenge has been grasped, the two go together, and the voices are in close connection, while the orchestra (a chief factor in the musical rendering of the whole scene) contrasts with them in sharpest accents, now urging, now restraining; the long suspense of the detached, disconnected phrases is relieved by the stream of passion which seems to raise the weight from the hearts from which it flows. Don Ottavio, owing partly to the libretto, has acquired an unfavourable reputation that can scarcely be entirely overcome, even if the exaggerations which have become customary in his part should be discarded.[ 173 ] In real life we feel the highest esteem for a character which preserves calmness and clearness in the midst of heaviest trials, DON GIOVANNI. and stands loyally and tenderly by the side of the afflicted; but we seldom find a poetic or passionate side to such a nature. Such an one is Don Ottavio. He preserves his composure amid the whirlwind of passion around him; his love imposes upon him the task of consoling and supporting his beloved one under the loss of her father, and he performs it in a manner at once tender and manly. He rises to greater strength in the summons to vengeance, when he shows himself in no way inferior to Donna Anna; and when the two next come upon the scene, it is he who exhorts Donna Anna to stifle her grief and to dream only of revenge. The unexpected appearance of Elvira, and Don Giovanni's behaviour inspire him with some degree of suspicion; but he and Donna Anna preserve in the quartet (Act I., 8) a dignified reserve towards the strangers, which has a depressing effect when united with their mournful contemplation of their own sorrow. Here they are entirely at one with each other, and so the music renders them; their superiority of birth and demeanour has its effect on the other two characters, and gives the tone to the whole. Don Giovanni's entrance, his glance and tone, inspire Donna Anna with the certainty of his being her father's murderer; the memory of that fearful event flashes across her, and the tumult of feeling which it arouses is expressed by the orchestra in pungent dissonances by means of opposing rhythm and harsh sounds produced especially by the trumpets, which have been silent since the overture until now. It is with difficulty that she composes herself sufficiently to acquaint her lover with the cause of her agitation.
