Act II. Still, the _Count_, for whom the claims of _Marcellina_ upon

_Figaro_ have come in very opportunely, has not given consent for his valet's wedding. He wishes to carry his own intrigue with _Susanna_, the genuineness of whose love for _Figaro_ he underestimates, to a successful issue. _Susanna_ and _Figaro_ meet in the _Countess's_ room. The _Countess_ has been soliloquizing upon love, of whose fickleness the _Count_ has but provided too many examples.--"Porgi amor, qualche ristoro" (Love, thou holy, purest passion.) _Figaro_ has contrived a plan to gain the consent of the _Count_ to his wedding with _Susanna_. The valet's scheme is to make the _Count_ ashamed of his own flirtations. _Figaro_ has sent a letter to the _Count_, which divulges a supposed rendezvous of the _Countess_ in the garden. At the same time _Susanna_ is to make an appointment to meet the _Count_ in the same spot. But, in place of _Susanna_, _Cherubino_, dressed in _Susanna's_ clothes, will meet the _Count_. Both will be caught by the _Countess_ and the _Count_ thus be confounded.

_Cherubino_ is then brought in to try on _Susanna's_ clothes. He sings to the _Countess_ an air of sentiment, one of the famous vocal numbers of the opera, the exquisite: "Voi che sapete, che cosa è amor" (What is this feeling makes me so sad).

[Music]

The _Countess_, examining his officer's commission, finds that the seal to it has been forgotten. While in the midst of these proceedings someone knocks. It is the _Count_. Consternation. _Cherubino_ flees into the _Countess's_ room and _Susanna_ hides behind a curtain. The evident embarrassment of his wife arouses the suspicions of her husband, who, gay himself, is very jealous of her. He tries the door _Cherubino_ has bolted from the inside, then goes off to get tools to break it down with. He takes his wife with him. While he is away, _Cherubino_ slips out and leaps out of a window into the garden. In his place, _Susanna_ bolts herself in the room, so that, when the _Count_ breaks open the door, it is only to discover that _Susanna_ is in his wife's room. All would be well, but unfortunately _Antonio_, the gardener, enters. A man, he says, has jumped out of the _Countess's_ window and broken a flowerpot. _Figaro_, who has come in, and who senses that something has gone wrong, says that it was he who was with _Susanna_ and jumped out of the window. But the gardener has found a paper. He shows it. It is _Cherubino's_ commission. How did _Figaro_ come by it? The _Countess_ whispers something to _Figaro_. Ah, yes; _Cherubino_ handed it to him in order that he should obtain the missing seal.

Everything appears to be cleared up when _Marcellina_, accompanied by _Bartolo_, comes to lodge formal complaint against _Figaro_ for breach of promise, which for the _Count_ is a much desired pretext to refuse again his consent to _Figaro's_ wedding with _Susanna_. These, the culminating episodes of this act, form a finale which is justly admired, a finale so gradually developed and so skilfully evolved that, although only the principals participate in it, it is as effective as if it employed a full ensemble of soloists, chorus, and orchestra worked up in the most elaborate fashion. Indeed, for effectiveness produced by simple means, the operas of Mozart are models.

But to return to the story. At the trial in Act III, between _Marcellina_ and _Figaro_, it develops that _Figaro_ is her long-lost natural son. _Susanna_ pays the costs of the trial and nothing now seems to stand in the way of her union with _Figaro_. The _Count_, however, is not yet entirely cured of his fickle fancies. So the _Countess_ and _Susanna_ hit upon still another scheme in this play of complications. During the wedding festivities _Susanna_ is to contrive to send secretly to the _Count_ a note, in which she invites him to meet her. Then the _Countess_, dressed in _Susanna's_ clothes, is to meet him at the place named. _Figaro_ knows nothing of this plan. Chancing to find out about the note, he too becomes jealous--another, though minor, contribution to the mix-up of emotions. In this act the concoction of the letter by the _Countess_ and _Susanna_ is the basis of the most beautiful vocal number in the opera, the "letter duet" or Canzonetta sull'aria (the "Canzonetta of the Zephyr")--"Che soave zeffiretto" (Hither gentle zephyr); an exquisite melody, in which the lady dictates, the maid writes down, and the voices of both blend in comment.

[Music]

The final Act brings about the desired result after a series of amusing _contretemps_ in the garden. The _Count_ sinks on his knees before his _Countess_ and, as the curtain falls, there is reason to hope that he is prepared to mend his ways.

Regarding the early performances of "Figaro" in this country, these early performances were given "with Mozart's music, but adapted by Henry Rowley Bishop." When I was a boy, a humorous way of commenting upon an artistic sacrilege was to exclaim: "Ah! Mozart improved by Bishop!" I presume the phrase came down from these early representations of "The Marriage of Figaro." Bishop was the composer of "Home, Sweet Home." In 1839 his wife eloped with Bochsa, the harp virtuoso, afterwards settled in New York, and for many years sang in concert and taught under the name of Mme. Anna Bishop.

DON GIOVANNI

Opera in two acts by Mozart; text by Lorenzo da Ponte. Productions, Prague, Oct. 29, 1787; Vienna, May 17, 1788; London, April 12, 1817; New York, Park Theatre, May 23, 1826.

Original title: "Il Dissoluto Punito, ossia il Don Giovanni" (The Reprobate Punished, or Don Giovanni). The work was originally characterized as an _opera buffa_, or _dramma giocoso_, but Mozart's noble setting lifted it out of that category.

CHARACTERS

DON PEDRO, the Commandant _Bass_ DONNA ANNA, his daughter _Soprano_ DON OTTAVIO, her betrothed _Tenor_ DON GIOVANNI _Baritone_ LEPORELLO, his servant _Bass_ DONNA ELVIRA _Soprano_ ZERLINA _Soprano_ MASETTO, betrothed to ZERLINA _Tenor_ [Transcriber's Note: should be 'Baritone']

"Don Giovanni" was presented for the first time in Prague, because Mozart, satisfied with the manner in which Bondini's troupe had sung his "Marriage of Figaro" a little more than a year before, had agreed to write another work for the same house.

The story on which da Ponte based his libretto--the statue of a murdered man accepting an insolent invitation to banquet with his murderer, appearing at the feast and dragging him down to hell--is very old. It goes back to the Middle Ages, probably further. A French authority considers that da Ponte derived his libretto from "Le Festin de Pierre," Molière's version of the old tale. Da Ponte, however, made free use of "Il Convitato di Pietra" (The Stone-Guest), a libretto written by the Italian theatrical poet Bertati for the composer Giuseppe Gazzaniga. Whoever desires to follow up this interesting phase of the subject will find the entire libretto of Bertati's "Convitato" reprinted, with a learned commentary by Chrysander, in