Act I. Scene 1. After a very brief prelude, the curtain rises on a

hall in the _King's_ palace in Memphis. Through a high gateway at the back are seen the temples and palaces of Memphis and the pyramids.

It had been supposed that, after the invasion of Ethiopia by the Egyptians, the Ethiopians would be a long time in recovering from their defeat. But _Amonasro_, their king, has swiftly rallied the remnants of his defeated army, gathered new levies to his standard, and crossed the frontier--all this with such extraordinary rapidity that the first news of it has reached the Egyptian court in Memphis through a messenger hot-foot from Thebes with the startling word that the sacred city itself is threatened.

While the priests are sacrificing to Isis in order to learn from the goddess whom she advises them to choose as leader of the Egyptian forces, _Rhadames_, a young warrior, indulges in the hope that he may be the choice. To this hope he joins the further one that, returning victorious, he may ask the hand in marriage of _Aïda_, an Ethiopian slave of the Egyptian King's daughter, _Amneris_. To these aspirations he gives expression in the romance, "Celeste Aïda" (Radiant Aïda).

[Music: Celeste Aïda]

It ends effectively with the following phrase:

[Music: un trono vicino al sol, un trono vicino al sol]

He little knows that _Aïda_ is of royal birth or that _Amneris_ herself, the Princess Royal, is in love with him and, having noted the glances he has cast upon _Aïda_, is fiercely jealous of her--a jealousy that forms the mainspring of the story and leads to its tragic dénouement.

A premonition of the emotional forces at work in the plot is given in the "Vieni, O diletta" (Come dearest friend), beginning as a duet between _Amneris_ and _Aïda_ and later becoming a trio for them and _Rhadames_. In this the _Princess_ feigns friendship for _Aïda_, but, in asides, discloses her jealous hatred of her.

Meanwhile the Egyptian hosts have gathered before the temple. There the _King_ announces that the priests of Isis have learned from the lips of that goddess the name of the warrior who is to lead the army--_Rhadames_! It is the _Princess_ herself who, at this great moment in his career, places the royal standard in his hands. But amid the acclaims that follow, as _Rhadames_, to the strains of march and chorus, is conducted by the priests to the temple of Phtah to be invested with the consecrated armour, _Amneris_ notes the fiery look he casts upon _Aïda_. Is this the reason _Rhadames_, young, handsome, brave, has failed to respond to her own guarded advances? Is she, a princess, to find a successful rival in her own slave?

Meanwhile _Aïda_ herself is torn by conflicting emotions. She loves _Rhadames_. When the multitude shouts "Return victorious!" she joins in the acclamation. Yet it is against her own people he is going to give battle, and the Ethiopians are led by their king, _Amonasro_, her father. For she, too, is a princess, as proud a princess in her own land as _Amneris_, and it is because she is a captive and a slave that her father has so swiftly rallied his army and invaded Egypt in a desperate effort to rescue her, facts which for obvious reasons she carefully has concealed from her captors.

It is easy to imagine _Aïda's_ agonized feelings since _Rhadames_ has been chosen head of the Egyptian army. If she prays to her gods for the triumph of the Ethiopian arms, she is betraying her lover. If she asks the gods of victory to smile upon _Rhadames_, she is a traitress to her father, who has taken up arms to free her, and to her own people. Small wonder if she exclaims, as she contemplates her own wretched state:

"Never on earth was heart torn by more cruel agonies. The sacred names of father, lover, I can neither utter nor remember. For the one--for the other--I would weep, I would pray!"

This scene for _Aïda_, beginning "Ritorna vincitor" (Return victorious), in which she echoes the acclamation of the martial chorus immediately preceding, is one of the very fine passages of the score. The lines to which it is set also have been highly praised. They furnished the composer with opportunity, of which he made full use, to express conflicting emotions in music of dramatic force and, in its concluding passage, "Numi pietà" (Pity, kind heaven), of great beauty.

[Music:

Numi pietà Del mio soffrir! Speme non v'ha pel mio dolor.]