A breath creates thee, and a breath destroys.

It now appears for the first time with a piano-forte accompaniment. The story of this opera is from the third and fourth books of Cæsar’s Commentaries, Dion. Cassius, book xiii., and Plutarch’s Lives.


The gentle and sweet aria, ‘Piangero,’ though from the same opera, is not connected with the recitative, but was generally sung after it in the concerts. There is a second movement to this, which, however suited to the character to whom it is given in the drama, is not in unison with the music of the first part, nor does it follow well such a recitative, therefore was seldom performed, except on the stage; and we have omitted it altogether.


The arietta of KEISER is from a German opera, (which, however, has also an Italian title, La forza della Virtù,) published at Hamburg in 1701. This work, now lying before us, is uncommonly rare; we never saw or heard of another copy, in England at least. A treble and base only are printed, the latter sometimes figured, the former in the soprano clef, and being in the old German type, is not very easily decyphered. The merit of this air hardly admits of dispute, and, like all that is really good in art, has suffered nothing from the lapse of time. A remarkable circumstance connected with it is, that Handel, past all doubt, either intentionally or inadvertently,—most likely the former,—imitated it in his minuet in the overture to Samson. Whoever compares the two must see that the resemblance could not have arisen from one of those coincidences which are sometimes accidental.

Keiser, born at Weissenfels, in Saxony, about the year 1673, was the most distinguished composer of opera of his day; but how few, even of musicians, have ever heard his name pronounced! Burney says of him[24], ‘His compositions are more voluminous than those of old Scarlatti (Alessandro), and his melodies, though more than fifty years old, [i.e. in 1772] are such as would now be thought modern and graceful.’ Hasse assured Dr. Burney that Keiser was, ‘according to his conceptions, one of the greatest musicians the world ever saw[25].’

The words we have adapted to this air are from Ellis’s Specimens of the early English Poets. The accompaniment is given as faithfully as two bare lines of treble and base would allow, the latter being furnished by two figures (sixths) only.


The lovely song by Dr. Arne was composed in 1769, for Shakspeare’s Jubilee at Stratford-on-Avon. Garrick wrote the words, which, it must be confessed, are not so perfect as the music set to them. Lovely as is this air, we suspect that but few in the present day know of its existence. It has never before, we believe, appeared with a distinct accompaniment; and our copy of the song carries signs of having been published more than half a century ago.