Act III. In a dungeon the blinded giant languishes. But more
tormenting than the corporal disgrace or the laments of his companions are the reproaches in his own breast. Now the doors rattle. _Beadles_ come in to drag him to the Philistines' celebration of their victory--(change of scene). In _Dagon's_ temple the Philistine people are rejoicing. Bitter scorn is poured forth on _Samson_ whom the high priest insultingly invites to sing a love-song to _Dalila_. The false woman herself mocks the powerless man. But _Samson_ prays to his God. Only once again may he have strength. And while the intoxication of the festival seizes on everybody, he lets himself be led between the two pillars which support the temple. He clasps them. A terrible crash--the fragments of the temple with a roar bury the Philistine people and their conqueror.
LE ROI D'YS
Opera by Lalo, produced at the Opéra Comique in 1888, and given in London in 1901. The story is founded upon a Breton legend. _Margared_ and _Rozenn_, daughters of the King of Ys, love _Mylio_. But the warrior has only eyes for _Rozenn_. In revenge _Margared_ betrays her father's city to _Karnac_, a defeated enemy. To him she gives the keys of the sluices which stand between the town and the sea. When the town and all its inhabitants are about to be swept away, the girl in remorse throws herself into the sea. St. Corentin, patron saint of Ys, accepts her sacrifice and the sea abates.
GRISÉLIDIS
Massenet's "Grisélidis," a lyric tale in three acts and a prologue, poem by Armand Silvestre and Eugène Morand based on the "Mystery" in free verse by the same authors, produced at the Comédie-Française, Paris, May 15, 1891, was given for the first time in America, January 19, 1910, at the Manhattan Opera House, New York. The story of the patient _Griselda_ has been handed down to posterity by Boccaccio in the Decameron, 10th day, 10th novel, and by Chaucer, who learned it, he said from Petrarch at Padua, and then put it into the mouth of the Clerk of Oxenforde.
The old ballad of "Patient Grissell" begins thus:
A noble marquess As he did ride a-hunting, Hard by a forest side, A fair and comely maiden, As she did sit a-spinning, His gentle eye espied.
Most fair and lovely And was of comely grace was she, Although in simple attire, She sang most sweetly, With pleasant voice melodiously, Which set the lord's heart on fire.
An English drama, "Patient Grissel," was entered at Stationers' Hall in 1599. The word "Grizel," the proverbial type of a meek and patient wife, crept into the English language through this story. Chaucer wrote:
No wedded man so hardy be tassaille His wyves patience, in hope to fynde Grisildes, for in certain he shall fail.
Several operas on this subject were written before Massenet's, but the ballet "Griseldis: Les Cinq Sens" by Adam (Paris, 1848), has another story. So too has Flotow's comic opera, "Griselda, l'esclave du Camoens."
Silvestre and Morand represented _Griselda_ as tempted by _Satan_ in person that he might win a wager made with the marquis. When the "Mystery" was given in 1891 the cast included Miss Bartet as _Griseldis_; Coquelin cadet as _Le Diable_; Silvain as the _Marquis de Saluce_ and A. Lambert, fils, as _Alain_. It was played at fifty-one consecutive performances. According to Mr. Destranges, Bizet wrote music for a "Grisélidis" with a libretto by Sardou, but most of this was destroyed. Only one air is extant, that is the air sung by Micaela in "Carmen." According to the same authority Massenet's score lay "En magasin" for nearly ten years. Thus the music antedated that of "Thaïs" (1894), "La Navarraise" (1894), "Sapho" (1897), "Cendrillon" (1899), and it was not performed until 1901.
"Grisélidis" was produced at the Opéra Comique, Paris, November 20, 1901, with Lucienne Bréval, Lucien Fugère, Messrs. Maréchal and Dufranne. André Messager conducted. On November 23, 1901, the opera drew the largest receipts known thus far in the history of the Opéra Comique--9538 francs.
Mr. Philip Hale tells the story of the opera as follows:
"The scene is in Provence and in the fourteenth century. The _Marquis of Saluzzo_, strolling about in his domains, met _Griselda_, a shepherdess, and he loved her at first sight. Her heart was pure; her hair was ebon black; her eyes shone with celestial light. He married her and the boy _Loÿs_ was born to them. The happy days came to an end, for the _Marquis_ was called to the war against the Saracens. Before he set out, he confided to the prior his grief at leaving _Griselda_. The prior was a Job's comforter: 'Let my lord look out for the devil! When husbands are far away, _Satan_ tempts their wives.' The _Marquis_ protests for he knew the purity of _Griselda_; but as he protested he heard a mocking laugh, and he saw at the window an ape-like apparition. It was the devil all in green. The _Marquis_ would drive him away, but the devil proposed a wager: he bet that he would tempt _Griselda_ to her fall, while the _Marquis_ was absent. The _Marquis_ confidently took up the wager, and gave the devil his ring as a pledge. The devil of these librettists had a wife who nagged her spouse, and he in revenge sought to make other husbands unhappy. He began to lay snares for _Griselda_; he appeared in the disguise of a Byzantine Jew, who came to the castle, leading as a captive, his own wife, _Fiamina_, and he presented her: 'This slave belongs to the _Marquis_. He bids you to receive her, to put her in your place, to serve her, to obey her in all things. Here is his ring.' _Griselda_ meekly bowed her head. The devil said to himself that _Griselda_ would now surely seek vengeance on her cruel lord. He brought _Alain_ by a spell to the castle garden at night--_Alain_, who had so fondly loved _Griselda_. She met him in an odorous and lonely walk. He threw himself at her feet and made hot love. _Griselda_ thought of her husband who had wounded her to the quick, and was about to throw herself into _Alain's_ arms, when her little child appeared. _Griselda_ repulsed _Alain_, and the devil in his rage bore away the boy, _Loÿs_. The devil came again, this time as a corsair, who told her that the pirate chief was enamoured of her beauty; she would regain the child if she would only yield; she would see him if she would go to the vessel. She ran to the ship, but lo! the _Marquis_, home from the East. And then the devil, in another disguise, spoke foully of _Griselda's_ behaviour, and the _Marquis_ was about to believe him, but he saw _Griselda_ and his suspicions faded away. The devil in the capital of a column declared that _Loÿs_ belonged to him. Foolish devil, who did not heed the patron saint before whom the _Marquis_ and _Griselda_ were kneeling. The cross on the altar was bathed in light; the triptych opened; there, at the feet of St. Agnes, was little _Loÿs_ asleep.
"The opera begins with a prologue which is not to be found in the version played at the Comédie-Française in 1891. The prologue acquaints us with the hope of the shepherd _Alain_ that he may win _Griselda_: with the _Marquis_ meeting _Griselda_ as he returns from the chase, his sudden passion for her, his decision to take the young peasant as his wife, the despair of _Alain_. This prologue, with a fine use of themes that are used in the opera as typical, is described as one of the finest works of Massenet, and even his enemies among the ultra-moderns admit that the instrumentation is prodigiously skilful and truly poetic.
"The first act pictures the oratory of _Griselda_, and ends with the departure of the _Marquis_.
"The second act passes before the château, on a terrace adorned with three orange trees, with the sea glittering in the distance. It is preceded by an entr'acte of an idyllic nature. It is in this act that the devil and his wife enter disguised, the former as a slave merchant, the latter as an odalisque. In this act the devil, up to his old tricks, orders the flowers to pour madding perfumes into the air that they may aid in the fall of _Griselda_. And in this act _Alain_ again woos his beloved, and the devil almost wins his wager.
"The third act is in _Griselda's_ oratory. At the end, when _Loÿs_ is discovered at the feet of St. Agnes, the retainers rush in and all intone the 'Magnificat' and through a window the devil is seen in a hermitage, wearing cloak and hood.
"The passages that have excited the warmest praise are the prologue, _Griselda's_ scene in the first act, 'L'Oiseau qui pars à tire-d'aile,' and the quiet ending of the act after the tumult of the departure to the East; in the second act, the prelude, the song, 'Il partit au printemps,' the invocation, and the duet; in the third act, a song from the _Marquis_, and the final and mystic scene."
THAÏS
"Thaïs," a lyric comedy in three acts and seven scenes, libretto by M. Louis Gallet, taken from the novel by M. Anatole France which bears the same title; music by Massenet; produced at the Opéra on March 16, 1894. It had been, I think, more than sixty years since the Opéra had applied the designation of "lyric comedy" to a work produced on its stage, which is a little too exclusively solemn. As a matter of fact there is no question in Thaïs of one of those powerful and passionate dramas, rich in incidents and majestic dramatic strokes, or one of those subjects profoundly pathetic like those of "Les Huguenots," "La Juive," or "Le Prophète." One could extract from the intimate and mystic novel of "Thaïs" only a unity and simplicity of action without circumlocutions or complications, developing between two important persons and leaving all the others in a sort of discreet shadow, the latter serving only to emphasize the scenic movement and to give to the work the necessary life, color, and variety.
The librettist had the idea of writing his libretto in prose, rhymed, if not entirely in blank verse, in a measured prose to which, in a too long article reviewing it, he gave the name of "poésie mélique." This explanation left the public indifferent, the essential for them being that the libretto be good and interesting and that it prove useful to the musician. The action of "Thaïs" takes place at the end of the fourth century. The first act shows us in a corner of the Theban plain on the banks of the Nile a refuge of cenobites. The good fathers are finishing a modest repast at their common table. One place near them remains empty, that of their comrade _Athanaël_ (Paphnuce in the novel) who has gone to Alexandria. Soon he comes back, still greatly scandalized at the sensation caused in the great city by the presence of a shameless courtesan, the famous actress and dancer, _Thaïs_, who seems to have turned the sceptical and light heads of its inhabitants. Now in his younger days _Athanaël_ had known this _Thaïs_, and in Alexandria too, which he left to consecrate himself to the Lord and to take the robe of a religious.
_Athanaël_ is haunted by the memory of _Thaïs_. He dreams that it would be a pious and meritorious act to snatch her from her unworthy profession and from a life of debauchery which dishonours her and of which she does not even seem to be conscious. He goes to bed and sleeps under the impress of this thought, which does not cease to confront him, so much so that he sees her in a dream on the stage of the theatre of Alexandria, representing the Loves of Venus. He can refrain no longer and on awaking he goes to find her again, firmly resolved to do everything to bring about her conversion.
Arrived at Alexandria, _Athanaël_ meets an old friend, the beau _Nicias_, to whom he makes himself known and who is the lover of _Thaïs_ for a day longer because he has purchased her love for a week which is about to end. _Athanaël_ confides his scheme to _Nicias_ who receives him like a brother and makes him put on clothes which will permit him to attend a fête and banquet which he is to give that very night in honour of _Thaïs_. Soon he finds himself in the presence of the courtesan who laughs at him at his first words and who engages him to come to see her at her house if he expects to convert her. He does not fail to accept this invitation and once in _Thaïs's_ house tells her to be ashamed of her disorderly life and with eloquent words reveals to her the heavenly joys and the felicities of religion. _Thaïs_ is very much impressed; she is on the point of yielding to his advice when afar off in a song are heard the voices of her companions in pleasure. Then she repels the monk, who, without being discouraged, goes away, saying to her: "At thy threshold until daylight I will await thy coming."
In fact here we find him at night seated on the front steps of _Thaïs's_ house. Time has done its work and a few hours have sufficed for the young woman to be touched by grace. She goes out of her house, having exchanged her rich garments for a rough woollen dress, finds the monk, and begs him to lead her to a convent. The conversion is accomplished.
But _Athanaël_ has deceived himself. It was not love of God but it was jealousy that dictated his course without his being aware of it. When he has returned to the Thebaid after having conducted _Thaïs_ to a convent and thinks he has found peace again, he perceives with horror that he loves her madly. His thoughts without ceasing turn to her and in a new dream, a cruel dream, he seems to see _Thaïs_, sanctified and purified by remorse and prayer, on the point of dying in the convent where she took refuge. On awaking, under the impression of this sinister vision, he hurries to the convent where _Thaïs_ in fact is near to breathing her last breath. But he does not wish that she die; and while she, in ecstasy, is only thinking of heaven and of her purification, he wants to snatch her from death and only talks to her of his love. The scene is strange and of real power. _Thaïs_ dies at last and _Athanaël_ falls stricken down beside her.
This subject, half mystic, half psychological, was it really a favourable one for theatrical action? Was it even treated in such a way as to mitigate the defects it might present in this connection? We may doubt it. Nevertheless M. Massenet has written on this libretto of "Thaïs" a score which, if it does not present the firm unity of those of "Manon" and of "Werther," certainly does not lack either inspiration or colour or originality and in which moreover are found in all their force and all their expansion the astonishing technical qualities of a master to whom nothing in his art is foreign. All the music of the first act, which shows us the retreat of the cenobites, is of a sober and severe colour, with which will be contrasted the movement and the gracefulness of the scene at the house of _Nicias_. There should be noted the peaceful chorus of monks, the entrance of _Athanaël_, the fine phrase which follows his dream: "Toi qui mis la pitié dans nos âmes," and the very curious effect of the scene where he goes away again from his companions to return to Alexandria. In the second act the kind of invocation placed in the mouth of the same _Athanaël_: "Voilà donc la terrible cité," written on a powerful rhythm, is followed by a charming quartette, a passage with an emphasis full of grace and the end of which especially is delightful. I would indicate again in this act the rapid and kindly dialogue of _Nicias_ and of _Thaïs_: "Nous nous sommes aimés une longue semaine," which seems to conceal under its apparent indifference a sort of sting of melancholy. I pass over the air of _Thaïs_: "Dis-moi que je suis belle," an air of bravado solely destined to display the finish of a singer, to which I much prefer the whole scene that follows, which is only a long duet in which _Athanaël_ tries to convert _Thaïs_. The severe and stern accents of the monk put in opposition to the raillery and the voluptuous outbreaks (buoyancy) of the courtesan produce a striking contrast which the composer has known how to place in relief with a rare felicity and a real power. The symphonic intermezzo which, under the name of "Méditation," separates this act from the following, is nothing but an adorable violin solo, supported by the harps and the development of which, on the taking up again of the first motif by the violin, brings about the entrance of an invisible chorus, the effect of which is purely exquisite. The curtain then rises on the scene in which _Thaïs_, who has put on a rough woollen dress, goes to seek the monk to flee with him. Here there is a duet in complete contrast with the preceding. _Athanaël_ wants _Thaïs_ to destroy and burn whatever may preserve the memory of her past. She obeys, demanding favour only for a little statue of Eros: "L'amour est un vertu rare." It is a sort of invocation to the purity of love, written, if one may say so, in a sentiment of chaste melancholy and entirely impressed with gracefulness and poetry. But what should be praised above all is the final scene, that of the death of _Thaïs_. This scene, truly pathetic and powerful, has been treated by the composer with a talent of the first order and an incontestable superiority. There again he knew wonderfully well how to seize the contrast between the pious thoughts of _Thaïs_, who at the moment of quitting life begins to perceive eternal happiness, and the powerless rage of _Athanaël_, who, devoured by an impious love, reveals to her, without her understanding or comprehending it, all the ardour of a passion that death alone can extinguish in him. The touching phrases of _Thaïs_, the despairing accents of _Athanaël_, interrupted by the desolate chants of the nuns, companions of the dying woman, provoke in the hearer a poignant and sincere emotion. That is one of the finest pages we owe to the pen of M. Massenet. We must point out especially the return of the beautiful violin phrase which constitutes the foundation of the intermezzo of the second act.
The work has been very well played by Mlle. Sybil Sanderson (_Thaïs_), M. Delmas (_Athanaël_), M. Alvarez (_Nicias_), Mmes. Héglon and Marcy, and M. Delpouget.
MANON
Opera in five acts by Massenet; words by Henri Meilhac and Philippe Gille, after the story by Abbé Prévost. Produced Opéra Comique, Paris, January 19, 1884; Théâtre de la Monnaie, Brussels, March 15, 1884. In English, by the Carl Rosa Company, Liverpool, January 17, 1885; and at Drury Lane, London, May 7, 1885, with Marie Roze, Barton McGuckin, and Ludwig. In French, Covent Garden, May 14, 1894. Carcano Theatre, Milan, October 19, 1893. Academy of Music, New York, December 23, 1885, with Minnie Hauck (_Manon_), Giannini (_Des Grieux_), and Del Puente (_Lescaut_); Metropolitan Opera House, January 16, 1895, with Sibyl Sanderson and Jean de Reszke.
CHARACTERS
CHEVALIER DES GRIEUX _Tenor_ COUNT DES GRIEUX, his father _Bass_ LESCAUT, of the Royal Guard, cousin to Manon _Baritone_ GUILLOT DE MORFONTAINE, Minister of Finance, an old beau _Bass_ DE BRÉTIGNY, a nobleman _Baritone_ MANON _Soprano_ POUSSETTE, JAVOTTE, ROSETTE, actresses _Sopranos_
Students, innkeeper, a sergeant, a soldier, gamblers, merchants and their wives, croupiers, sharpers, guards, travellers, ladies, gentlemen, porters, postilions, an attendant at the Monastery of St. Sulpice, the people.
_Time_--1821.
_Place_--Amiens, Paris, Havre.