Act IV. Before very long, however, there was a material change in the

situation. In his extremity, _Lionel_ remembered about his ring and he asked _Plunkett_ to show it to the queen and plead his cause. The ring proved to have been the property of the Earl of Derby. It was that nobleman who, after the failure of a plot to recall James II. from France and restore him to the throne, had died a fugitive and confided his son to the care of _Plunkett's_ mother, and that son was none other than _Lionel_, now discovered to be the rightful heir to the title and estates. Naturally he was received with high favor at the court of Anne, the daughter of the king to whom the old earl had rendered such faithful service.

Despite his new honours, however, _Lionel_ was miserably unhappy. He was deeply in love with the _Lady Harriet_. Yet he hardly could bring himself to speak to her, let alone appear so much as even to notice the advances which she, in her contrition, so plainly made toward him. So, while she too suffered, he went about lonely and desolate, eating out his heart with love and the feeling of injured pride that prevented him from acknowledging it.

This sad state of affairs might have continued indefinitely had not _Nancy's_ nimble wit come to the rescue. She and _Plunkett_, after meeting again, had been quick in coming to an understanding, and now the first thing they did was to plan how to bring together _Lionel_ and the _Lady Harriet_, who were so plainly in love with each other. One afternoon _Plunkett_ joined _Lionel_ in his lonely walk and, unknown to him, gradually guided him into her ladyship's garden. A sudden turn in the path brought them in view of a bustling scene. There were booths as at the Richmond fair, a crowd of servants and farmers and a sheriff calling out the accomplishments of the girls. As the crowd saw the two men, there was a hush. Then above it _Lionel_ heard a sweet, familiar voice singing:

'Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred, No rosebud is nigh To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, To pine on the stem; Since the lonely are sleeping, Go sleep thou with them, Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed-- Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead.

The others quickly vanished. "Martha!" cried _Lionel_. "Martha! Is it really you?" She stood before him in her servant's garb, no longer, however, smiling and coquettish as at Richmond, but with eyes cast down and sad.

And then as if answering to a would-be master's question of "What can you do?" she said: "I can forget all my dreams of wealth and gold. I can despise all the dross in which artifice and ignoble ambition mask themselves. I can put all these aside and remember only those accents of love and tenderness that I would have fall upon my hearing once more." She raised her eyes pleadingly to _Lionel_. All that had intervened was swept away. _Lionel_ saw only the girl he loved. And, a moment later, he held his "Martha" in his arms.

* * * * *

"Martha" teems with melody. The best-known airs are "The Last Rose of Summer" and _Lionel's_ "M'apparì" (Like a dream). The best ensemble piece, a quintet with chorus, occurs near the close of Act III.--"Ah! che a voi perdoni Iddio" (Ah! May Heaven to you grant pardon). The spinning-wheel quartet in Act II is most sprightly. But, as indicated, there is a steady flow of light and graceful melody in this opera. Almost at the very opening of Act I, _Lady Harriet_ and _Nancy_ have a duet, "Questo duol che si v'affana" (Of the knights so brave and charming). Bright, clever music abounds in the Richmond fair scene, and _Lionel_ and _Plunkett_ express their devotion to each other in "Solo, profugo, reietto" (Lost, proscribed, a friendless wanderer), and "Ne giammai saper potemmo" (Never have we learned his station). Then there is the gay quartet when the two girls leave the fair with their masters, while the crowd surrounds _Sir Tristan_ and prevents him from breaking through and interfering. It was in this scene that the bass singer Castelmary, the _Sir Tristan_ of a performance of "Martha" at the Metropolitan Opera House, February 10, 1897, was stricken with heart failure and dropped dead upon the stage.

A capital quartet opens Act II, in the farmhouse, and leads to the spinning-wheel quartet, "Di vederlo" (What a charming occupation). There is a duet between _Lady Harriet_ and _Lionel_, in which their growing attraction for each other finds expression, "Il suo sguardo è dolce tanto" (To his eye, mine gently meeting). Then follows "Qui sola, vergin rosa" ('Tis the last rose of summer), the words a poem by Tom Moore, the music an old Irish air, "The Groves of Blarney," to which Moore adapted "The Last Rose of Summer." A new and effective touch is given to the old song by Flotow in having the tenor join with the soprano at the close. Moreover, the words and music fit so perfectly into the situation on the stage that for Flotow to have "lifted" and interpolated them into his opera was a master-stroke. To it "Martha" owes much of its popularity.

[Music: 'Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming alone,]

There is a duet for _Lady Harriet_ and _Lionel_, "Ah! ride del mio pianto" (She is laughing at my sorrow). The scene ends with another quartet, one of the most beautiful numbers of the score, and known as the "Good Night Quartet," "Dormi pur, ma il mio riposo" (Cruel one, may dreams transport thee).