Scene 2. The village, near _Teresa's_ mill. Water runs through the

race and the wheel turns rapidly. A slender wooden bridge, spanning the wheel, gives access from some dormer lights in the millroof to an old stone flight of steps leading down to the foreground.

_Lisa_ has been making hay while the sun shines. She has induced _Elvino_ to promise to marry her. Preparations for the wedding are on foot. The villagers have assembled. _Rodolpho_ endeavours to dissuade _Elvino_ from the step he is about to take. He explains that _Amina_ is a somnambulist. But _Elvino_ has never heard of somnambulism. He remains utterly incredulous.

_Teresa_ begs the villagers to make less disturbance, as poor _Amina_ is asleep in the mill. The girl's foster-mother learns of _Elvino's_ intention of marrying _Lisa_. Straightway she takes from her bosom _Lisa's_ handkerchief, which she found hanging over _Rodolpho's_ bedpost. _Lisa_ is confused. _Elvino_ feels that she, too, has betrayed him. _Rodolpho_ again urges upon _Elvino_ that _Amina_ never was false to him--that she is the innocent victim of sleepwalking.

"Who can prove it?" _Elvino_ asks in agonized tones.

"Who? She herself!--See there!" exclaims _Rodolpho_.

For at that very moment _Amina_, in her nightdress, lamp in hand, emerges from a window in the mill roof. She passes along, still asleep, to the lightly built bridge spanning the mill wheel, which is still turning round quickly. Now she sets foot on the narrow, insecure bridge. The villagers fall on their knees in prayer that she may cross safely. _Rodolpho_ stands among them, head uncovered. As _Amina_ crosses the bridge a rotting plank breaks under her footsteps. The lamp falls from her hand into the torrent beneath. She, however, reaches the other side, and gains the stone steps, which she descends. Still walking in her sleep, she advances to where stand the villagers and _Rodolpho_. She kneels and prays for _Elvino_. Then rising, she speaks of the ring he has taken from her, and draws from her bosom the flowers given to her by him on the previous day. "Ah! non credea mirarti sì presto estinto, o fiore" (Scarcely could I believe it that so soon thou would'st wither, O blossoms).

[Music: Ah! non credea mirarti sì presto estinto, o fiore,]

Gently _Elvino_ replaces the ring upon her finger, and kneels before her. "Viva Amina!" cry the villagers. She awakens. Instead of sorrow, she sees joy all around her, and _Elvino_, with arms outstretched, waiting to beg her forgiveness and lead her to the altar.

"Ah! non giunge uman pensiero Al contento ond'io son piena" (Mingle not an earthly sorrow With the rapture now o'er me stealing).

[Music:

Ah! non giunge uman pensiero Al contento ond'io son piena]

It ends with this brilliant passage:

[Music]

The "Ah! non giunge" is one of the show-pieces of Italian opera. Nor is its brilliance hard and glittering. It is the brightness of a tender soul rejoicing at being enabled to cast off sorrow. Indeed, there is about the entire opera a sweetness and a gentle charm, that go far to account for its having endured so long in the repertoire, out of which so many works far more ambitious have been dropped.

Opera-goers of the old Academy of Music days will recall the bell-like tones of Etelka Gerster's voice in "Ah! non giunge"; nor will they ever forget the bird-like, spontaneous singing in this rôle of Adelina Patti, gifted with a voice and an art such as those who had the privilege of hearing her in her prime have not heard since, nor are likely to hear again. Admirers of Mme. Sembrich's art also are justly numerous, and it is fortunate for habitués of the Metropolitan that she was so long in the company singing at that house. She was a charming _Amina_. Tetrazzini was brilliant in "La Sonnambula." _Elvino_ is a stick of a rôle for tenor. _Rodolpho_ has the redeeming grace of chivalry. _Amina_ is gentle, charming, appealing.

The story of "Sonnambula" is simple and thoroughly intelligible, which cannot be said for all opera plots. The mainspring of the action is the interesting psycho-physical manifestation of somnambulism. This is effectively worked out. The crossing of the bridge in the last scene is a tense moment in the simple story. It calls for an interesting stage "property"--the plank that breaks without precipitating _Amina_, who sometimes may have more embonpoint than voice, into the mill-race. All these elements contribute to the success of "La Sonnambula," which, produced in 1831, still is a good evening's entertainment.

_Amina_ was one of Jenny Lind's favourite rôles. There is a beautiful portrait of her in the character by Eichens. It shows her, in the last act, kneeling and singing "Ah! non credea," and is somewhat of a rarity. A copy of it is in the print department of the New York Public Library. It is far more interesting than her better known portraits.

NORMA

Opera in two acts, by Bellini; words by Felice Romani, based on an old French story. Produced, December 26, 1831, Milan. King's Theatre, June 20, 1833, in Italian; Drury Lane, June 24, 1837, in English. Paris, Théâtre des Italiens, 1833. New York, February 25, 1841, at the Park Theatre; October 2, 1854, for the opening of the Academy of Music, with Grisi, Mario, and Susini; December 19, 1891, Metropolitan Opera House, with Lilli Lehmann as _Norma_.

CHARACTERS

POLLIONE, Roman Pro-consul in Gaul _Tenor_ OROVESO, Archdruid, father of Norma _Bass_ NORMA, High-priestess of the druidical temple of Esus _Soprano_ ADALGISA, a virgin of the temple _Contralto_ CLOTILDA, Norma's confidante _Soprano_ FLAVIUS, a centurion _Tenor_

Priests, Officers of the Temple, Gallic Warriors, Priestesses and Virgins of the Temple, and Two Children of Norma and Pollione.

_Time_--Roman Occupation, about 50 B.C.

_Place_--Gaul.