Gustav KobbE

Wagner's powerful influence upon German opera produced countless imitators. For some reason or other it appeared to be almost impossible for other German composers to assimilate his ideas and yet impart originality to their scores. Among those who took his works for a model were Peter Cornelius, Hermann Goetz, and Carl Goldmark.

Perhaps the most important contribution to German opera during the decade that followed Wagner's death was Humperdinck's "HÄnsel und Gretel." Then came Richard Strauss with his "Feuersnot," "Salome," "Elektra," and "Der Rosenkavalier."

The most famous representative of the Bohemian school of opera, which is closely allied to the German, is Smetana.

ST. ELIZABETH

Operatic version of Liszt's "Legend," made by Artur Bodanzky, from the book of the oratorio by Otto Roquette. Sung in English at the Metropolitan Opera House, January 3, 1918, with the following cast:

Characters

Elizabeth	Florence Easton
Landgravine Sophie	Margarete Matzenauer
Landgrave Ludwig	Clarence Whitehill
Landgrave Hermann	Carl Schlegel
A Hungarian Magnate	Basil Ruysdael
Seneschal	Robert Leonhardt

Conductor, Artur Bodanzky.

THE dramatic version of Liszt's sacred work once had sixty performances at Prague.

Although the score of "Saint Elizabeth" is dedicated to Wagner's benefactor, Ludwig II. of Bavaria, the Grand Duke Alexander of Weimar was responsible for the fact that Liszt undertook a setting of a poem on this subject by Otto Roquette. This poem was inspired by a series of frescoes by Moritz Schwind at the Wartburg, which tells the story of Elizabeth's sad life. The daughter of a Hungarian king of the thirteenth century, she was brought to the Wartburg at the age of four and betrothed to the boy, Ludwig, son of the Landgrave of Thuringia. The children were reared as brother and sister, and at seventeen Elizabeth was married to Ludwig who succeeded to the throne.

A famine came upon the land. Elizabeth impoverished herself by helping the poor, and incurred the displeasure of her mother-in-law. Forbidden to give any further aid to the victims of the famine, she was one day found by her husband carrying a basket. She declared that it was filled with flowers. When he tore it from her hands a miracle had happened, and the bread and wine had changed into roses. Then she confessed her deception which was atoned for by the miracle. The two after offering a prayer of thanksgiving renew their vows.

Soon afterwards Ludwig joins a passing procession of crusaders. He is killed in battle with the Saracens and his wife becomes ruler of the Wartburg. Sophie, her mother-in-law, plots with the Seneschal and drives Elizabeth out with her children into a storm. She finds refuge in a hospital she once founded. The remainder of her life is devoted to assisting the helpless and the poor. The closing scene of the opera shows her apotheosis.

THE BARBER OF BAGDAD

Opera in two acts. Words and music by Peter Cornelius. Produced: Weimar, December 15, 1858.

Characters

The Caliph	Baritone
Baba Mustapha, a cadi	Tenor
Margiana, his daughter	Soprano
Bostana, a relative of the cadi	Mezzo-Soprano
Nureddin	Tenor
The Barber	Bass

Act I. Nureddin is ill, very ill his servants say. They must know very little of such youthful illnesses. Margiana calls the invalid in a dream. Margiana is the medicine that can cure him, Margiana, the marvellously glorious daughter of the mighty cadi, Baba Mustapha. And see how health reanimates Nureddin's limbs, when Bostana, a relative of the cadi, approaches and brings the sweet news that Margiana will wait for her lover about noon when her father has gone to prayers in the mosque. But the latter, in order to appear properly, needs above everything else a barber. And Bostana appoints—"O knowest thou, revered one, I find for you a learned one—the greatest of all barbers, Abdul Hassan Ali Ebn Bekar. He is great as a barber, a giant as a talker, swift his razor, a thousand times quicker his tongue."

Act II. A magnificent room in the cadi's house. What a stirring, harmonious picture. Margiana, Bostana, and the cadi rejoice: "He comes! he comes! oh, delightful pleasure." Of course the covetous old cadi is not thinking of young Nureddin but of the rich old Selim who wants to have Margiana for his wife. A mighty chest full of rich gifts, so he announces. But the cadi goes off full of dignity to prayers in the mosque. And now Nureddin comes. How happy the couple are. But is not that the barber approaching with his love-song? "O Allah, save us from the flood of his talk"—no, rather save us from the cadi who suddenly comes back. The screams of a servant, whom he is punishing with a bastonade by his own hand, announce his arrival. There is only one escape. Quickly the chest is emptied and Nureddin gets in. Then the barber with Nureddin's servant. Abdul Hassan Ali Ebn Bekar leaves no customers in the lurch. He who screamed can only be Nureddin whom the furious cadi has murdered. Bostana advises him to drag forth the chest; the cadi opposes. The wild clamour brings, in crowds, the people of Bagdad who hear rumours of a murder. Finally the caliph comes too. What is in the chest? Nureddin's corpse, says the barber; Margiana's dowry, answers the cadi. The chest is opened. The cadi is right, for Nureddin is not a corpse but only in a swoon because he was nearly smothered, but he is without doubt Margiana's dowry and he will become so publicly. A cadi cannot lightly oppose the wish of a caliph. The barber is seized but is ordered by the caliph to be taken to his palace to entertain him with stories.

THE TAMING OF THE SHREW

Opera in four acts; libretto adapted by Victor Widmann from Shakespeare's comedy. Music by Herman Goetz.

Characters

Baptista	Otto Goritz
Katharina	Margarete Ober
Bianca	Marie Rappold
Hortensio	Robert Leonhardt
Lucentio	Johannes Sembach
Petruchio	Clarence Whitehill
Grumio	Basil Ruysdael
A Tailor	Albert Reiss
Major Domo	Max Bloch
Housekeeper	Marie Mattfeld

This opera was produced at the Metropolitan Opera House in commemoration of Shakespeare in 1916. It was first sung in Mannheim in 1874, when it was known as "Die Widerspenstigen Zachmung." Mr. Bodanzky came to conduct at the Metropolitan Opera House, from that city, and the New York performance was perhaps the result of a suggestion made by him. Widmann in his libretto brings into prominence the wooing of Bianca by rival suitors. This is done to give relief to Petruchio's blustering and to the exhibitions of temper by the Shrew. The librettist also provides his own introduction which includes the rival suitors, a chorus of angry servants, interested women on the balcony, and Petruchio's entrance. The second act represents Petruchio's tempestuous wooing. In the third Bianca is courted by Lucentio as a tutor and Hortensio as a musician. The wedding party returns and Petruchio makes his hasty exit bearing his sulky bride. Servants and wedding guests provide an opportunity for chorus music. The tailor is introduced and Katharina is finally tamed.

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA

Opera in four acts: music by Karl Goldmark; text by G.H. Mosenthal. Produced: Vienna, March 10, 1875.

Characters

King Solomon	Baritone
Baal Hanau, the palace overseer	Baritone
Assad	Tenor
The High Priest	Bass
Sulamith, his daughter	Tenor
The Queen of Sheba	Mezzo-Soprano
Astaroth, her slave	Soprano

Time—Tenth Century B.C.

Place—Jerusalem.

Act I. In Solomon's magnificent palace everybody is preparing for the reception of the Queen of Sheba. But nobody is more delighted than Sulamith, the daughter of the High Priest. Assad, who had gone to meet the foreign queen, returns. Here he comes already into the hall. But Assad, growing pale, draws back before his betrothed. He confesses to King Solomon that he has not yet seen the Queen of Sheba but at a certain well a wonderful woman favoured him with her love and since then his mind has been confused. The King consoles the young man by telling him that God will permit him to find her again. Now the queen's train approaches; she greets Solomon and unveils herself. Assad rushes toward her. What does the young man want of her? She does not know him.

Act II. The queen did not want to recognize Assad but the woman in her is consumed with longing for him. He comes and happy love unites them. Then the scene changes and shows the interior of the Temple. The wedding of Assad and Sulamith is about to be solemnized. Then, at a decisive moment the queen appears, and Assad throws the ring on the floor and hurries to the queen as if the deceit were making a fool of him. She has never seen him, she declares a second time. Assad, however, who has offended the Almighty, has incurred the penalty of death. In the meantime Solomon, who is examining the affair, defers sentence.

Act III. Solomon is alone with the queen. She has one request to make of him, that he shall release Assad. Why? He is nothing to her but she wants to see whether the king has regard for his guest. And Solomon refuses the request of the deceitful woman who, breathing vengeance, strides out of the palace. But when Sulamith complains, Solomon consoles her. Assad will shake off the unworthy chains. Far away on the borders of the desert, she will find peace with Assad.

Act IV. Again the scene changes. On the border of the desert stands the asylum of the young women consecrated to God in which Sulamith has found rest from the deceitful world. Assad staggers hither; a weary, banished man. And again the Queen of Sheba appears before him offering him her love. But he flees from the false woman for whom he had sacrificed Sulamith, the noble one. A desert storm arises, burying Assad in the sand. When the sky becomes clear again Sulamith, taking a walk with her maidens, finds her lover. She pardons the dying man and points out to him the eternal joys which they will taste together.

THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH

Opera in three acts, by Carl Goldmark, text by M. Willner, after the story by Charles Dickens. Produced, Berlin, 1896; in this country, 1910.

Characters

John	Baritone
Dot, his wife	Soprano
May	Soprano
Edward Plummer	Tenor
Tackleton	Basso
The Cricket	Soprano

Time—Early Part of 19th Century.

Place—An English Village.

Act I. Room in John's house. Invisible chorus of elves. To the Cricket, the guiding spirit of the house, Dot confides her secret. She hopes soon to have a child. May, a pretty young girl, a toymaker, is to be married the next day to Tackleton, her employer. She bemoans her fate. She still loves Edward Plummer, who disappeared several years before. After May's departure John appears with Edward, disguised as a sailor, and is not recognized either by John or the villagers.

Act II. A garden. May and Tackleton are supping together. John makes Tackleton jealous of the stranger, Edward, who, seeing that May is only marrying Tackleton because his wealth will save her old foster-father from want, reveals his identity to Dot. Tackleton now makes John jealous of Edward, but John is lulled to sleep by the Cricket, and dreams of himself as a happy father.

Act III. May resolves to be true to Edward. Recognizing him (after his song, "Hulla, list to the Seas"), they drive off in Tackleton's carriage. John is told of Dot's secret. Reconciliation, with the Cricket chirping merrily. There is much pretty music (for instance, the quintet on the hearth in the second act, and Edward's song), which, however, has not sufficed to keep the piece in the repertoire in this country.

KÖNIGSKINDER
KING’S CHILDREN

Opera by Engelbert Humperdinck with a libretto by Ernst Rosmer. The first performance on any stage was at the Metropolitan Opera House, December 28, 1910, with the following cast:

Der KÖnigssohn	Herman Jadlowker
Die Gansemagd	Geraldine Farrar
Der Spielmann	Otto Goritz
Die Hexe	Louise Homer
Der Holzhacker	Adamo Didur
Der Besenbinder	Albert Reiss
Zwei Kinder	Edna Walter and Lotta Engel
Der Ratsalteste	Marcel Reiner
Der Wirt	Antonio Pini-Corsi
Die Wirtstochter	Florence Wickham
Der Schneider	Julius Bayer
Die Stallmagd	Marie Mattfeld
Zwei Torwachter	Ernst Maran and William Hinshaw

Farrar

Photo by White

Farrar as the Goose Girl in “KÖnigskinder”

A king's daughter forced to act as a goose-girl in a forest, by an old witch who has cast a spell upon her, is discovered and loved by a king's son. Though she returned his love and would gladly go with him she finds that she cannot break the spell which holds her a prisoner in the forest. Leaving the crown at her feet the prince continues his wanderings. No sooner has he gone than a broom-maker and a wood-chopper guided by a wandering minstrel come to the witch's hut. They are ambassadors from the city of Hellabrunn which has been so long without a sovereign that the people themselves feel sadly in need of a government. The ambassadors ask the witch who this ruler shall be and by what signs the people may recognize him. The witch answers that their ruler will be the first person who enters the gates of the city after the bells have rung the hour of noon on the following day, which is the day of the festival of Hella. The minstrel notices the beautiful goose-girl and recognizes her to be of royal birth. He breaks the spell of the witch and forces her to give the lovely maiden into his keeping. He persuades her to break the enchantment and defy the evil powers by which she has been bound.

The prince, meanwhile, is at Hellabrunn, acting as a swineherd. The innkeeper's daughter loves the handsome young man but he proudly repulses her advances. He dreams of the goose-girl. The innkeeper's daughter revenges herself by proclaiming him a thief. As he is about to be led away to prison the bells announce the hour of the festival, and the gates are thrown open in expectation of the new ruler. Through the gates comes the goose-girl, wearing her wreath of flowers and followed by her geese and the minstrel. The lovers embrace. But only the minstrel and a little child recognize their royal rank. The townspeople, thinking that their sovereign would appear in royal regalia, drive the kings' children from the city, burn the witch, and break the minstrel's leg on a wheel.

The two lovers lose their way in a forest as the snow falls. They both die of a poisoned loaf made by the witch. The children of Hellabrunn, guided by a bird, find them buried under the same tree under which they had first met.

HÄNSEL UND GRETEL

A fairy opera in three acts. Music by Engelbert Humperdinck. Book by Adelheid Wette.

The first act represents the hut of a broom-maker. HÄnsel is binding brooms and Gretel is knitting. The children romp, quarrel, and make up. When their mother, Gertrude, enters she is angry to see them idle, but wishing to strike them, she upsets a pitcher of milk instead. With all hope of supper banished she sends the children out into the woods with little baskets to look for strawberries, while she herself, bemoaning their poverty, sinks exhausted upon a chair and falls asleep. A riotous song announces the approach of her husband, drunk as usual. She is about to utter reproaches when she notices that he has brought sausages, bread and butter, coffee—enough for a feast. He tells her that he has had good luck at the Kirmes and bids her prepare supper. When he asks for the children he is horrified to hear that they have been sent into the woods, for a wicked fairy lives near the Ilsenstein who entices children to bake them in her oven and devour them. Both parents rush off in search of HÄnsel and Gretel.

Hansel and Gretel

Copyright photo by Dupont

Van Dyck and Mattfeld as HÄnsel and Gretel

The second act takes place near the Ilsenstein. HÄnsel has filled his basket with berries and Gretel has made a wreath with which her brother crowns her. Before they realise what they are doing the children eat all the berries. Then they see that it is both too dark to look for any more or to find their way home. Gretel weeps with fear. HÄnsel comforts her. They grow sleepy. The sandman sprinkles sand into their eyes, but before going to sleep the children are careful not to forget their evening prayer. Fourteen guardian angels are seen descending the heavenly ladder to protect them.

Morning comes with the third act. The dew fairy sprinkles dew on the children. Suddenly they notice a little house made of cake and sugar. They start to break off little bits when a voice cries out from within and the witch opens the door. She throws a rope around HÄnsel's throat, urging them both to enter. Frightened, they try to escape, but after binding them with a magic spell she imprisons HÄnsel in a kennel, she forces Gretel to go into the house.

When she believes HÄnsel to be asleep she turns her attention to the oven, then rides around the house on her broom-stick. When she alights she orders HÄnsel to show her his finger. But it is still thin and the witch orders more food for him. While she turns her back, Gretel, seizing the juniper bough, speaks the magic words and breaks her brother's enchantment. Then the witch tells Gretel to get into the oven and see if the honey cakes are done. But Gretel pretends to be stupid and asks her to show her how to get in. Together the children push the old witch into the oven and slam the door. The oven soon falls to pieces. The children then see a row of boys and girls standing stiffly against the house. Gretel breaks the spell for them as she had done for HÄnsel. There is general rejoicing. Gertrude and Peter now appear, the old witch is pulled out of the ruined oven as gigantic honey cake and everyone on the stage joins in a hymn of thanksgiving.

THE GOLDEN CROSS

Opera in two acts. Music by BrÜll; text by H. Mosenthal, after the French. Produced: Berlin, December 22, 1875.

Characters

Gontran de l’Anery, a young nobleman	Tenor
Colas, an innkeeper	Baritone
Christine, his sister	Soprano
ThÉrÈse, his bride	Soprano
Bombardon, a sergeant	Bass

Time—1812.

Place—Melun, near Paris.

Act I. The town of Melun is suffering heavily from the great campaign which Napoleon is undertaking against Russia in 1812, so many of the young men must take the field. Among the hardest hit are ThÉrÈse and Christine, the first a bride, the other a beloved sister. Their Colas has been taken away; if he can find no substitute he must go to the war. Sergeant Bombardon, who is to take away the drafted men, is already in town with his soldiers. At the same time as the sergeant, a young nobleman, Gontran de l'Anery, arrives. He hears that Christine has promised her hand to the man who goes to war in place of her brother. She will give him a golden cross and when he brings it back will be his bride. But no one has the desire to expose himself to the hazards of war. Then Gontran, seized by a violent love, decides to take Colas' place. Through the sergeant he sends for the cross. Christine does not know who has offered himself for her brother.

Act II. Three years have passed. In the house of the innkeeper Colas, now as brave as before, having been wounded in battle with the invading enemy, Captain Gontran finds himself received as a severely wounded person. He loves his nurse Christine with all his heart and she also is attached to him. He even has a claim upon her as having been once a substitute for her brother, but he will not force her affections, and besides, he no longer has "the golden cross." Christine too dares not follow her inclinations for, as Gontran tells her that it was he who went to the war, she would offend him very much if she, true to her oath, should ask for the cross. This also reappears. A cripple, in whom one would scarcely recognize the former stalwart Sergeant Bombardon, is the bearer. Christine's heart nearly breaks, but she does not hesitate to keep her word. But no! Bombardon is not an impostor. He got the cross from a dying man. Yet, who is this? Dare he trust his eyes? The man whom he believed dead comes out of the house. It is Gontran. What happiness for the two lovers!

VERSIEGELT
SEALED IN

Opera in one act after Raupach. Music by Blech. Words by Richard Batka and Pordes-Milo. Produced: Hamburg, November 4, 1908.

Characters

Braun, a burgomaster	Baritone
Else, his daughter	Soprano
Frau Gertrud, a young widow	Mezzo-Soprano
Frau Willmers	Alto
Bertel, her son, a court clerk	Tenor
Lampe, a bailiff	Bass

Time—1830.

Place—A small German town.

In the centre of the whole scene stands a sideboard. This same sideboard belongs to Frau Willmers who now comes running to the apartment of the pretty young widow, Gertrud, with every sign of agitation, to tell her that the bailiff, Lampe, intends to seize her sideboard, an old and valuable heirloom. The burgomaster bears her ill will because her son Bertel has been casting eyes at his daughter Else, and now takes occasion to inflict on her this disgrace. To escape this she begs her lodger the favour of taking in the sideboard for her. Frau Gertrud is very willing. She has a grudge against the burgomaster. He used to call on her almost every day, and Frau Gertrud allowed herself to hope that sometime she would become the Frau burgomistress. Nevertheless, she would very willingly accelerate his decision. Scarcely is the sideboard, with the help of a neighbour, happily installed at Frau Gertrud's than Bertel, Frau Willmers' son and the burgomaster's daughter Else enter. They have made every effort to make the burgomaster kindly disposed but it was in vain. But as the couple have decided not to give up each other, they have come to Frau Gertrud to beg her influence with the burgomaster. When she thus receives confirmation of her suspicion of the burgomaster's liking for her, she naturally is not averse to the rÔle of matchmaker. Out of her beautiful dreams of the future the young woman, left alone by her neighbours, is aroused by a knock. But it is not the burgomaster, whom she secretly expected, but the bailiff, Lampe. Loquacious, conceited, and intrusive, he begins by telling her all his merits and his skill, brings greetings to the widow, as the burgomaster has commissioned him. The sideboard seems to him very suspicious. So now he will go only to Frau Willmers' to convince himself whether his suspicion is well founded. As soon as he has gone the burgomaster comes. He also makes use of evasions and then confides to his gentle friend the anxieties of a father. It grieves him very much that his Else loves this Bertel, son of his bitterest enemy, who is now dead. Frau Gertrud, however, interests her self bravely in favour of her protÉgÉs. Her remark that the burgomaster surely has not a heart of stone, brings him nearer to realizing his own condition. Instead of the children he now talks of himself. First he is seeking for a sign that she means well by him with her advice. Soon she has led him so far that he confesses his love for her and begs a kiss. The twilight that has begun favours the idyll. Then again comes the trouble-maker Lampe. Nothing worse can happen to the couple than to be discovered by this gossiper. So the burgomaster must hide in order to save his own and Frau Gertrud's reputation. But where? There is nothing better than the empty sideboard. Scarcely has the somewhat corpulent burgomaster fortunately concealed himself in it than Lampe enters the apartment and, "In the name of the authorities" seals up the sideboard. Unfortunately the burgomaster in his hiding place finds himself not so quiet as caution demanded. The sound does not escape Lampe and his evil thoughts scent here something very improper. Surely there is a lover concealed in the sideboard, and he goes away with the malicious idea of finding the burgomaster to tell him that Frau Gertrud is not the right sort of woman for him. But Frau Gertrud is sure of her point and, as Bertel and Else also come in with Frau Willmers, a plot is soon concocted by the four so that the happiness of everybody will result from this favourable accident. The two women leave the young couple alone so that through a put-up game on the father everything will be obtained. Else plays the lovesick girl, Bertel on the other hand the virtuous one whose respect for the burgomaster knows no bounds. So he refuses to accept Else's love against the will of her father and she, desperate, wants to run away when a voice proceeds from the sideboard. Now the father and burgomaster must humbly beg of his clerk that he take upon himself the offence of breaking the seal and letting him out of the sideboard. Naturally, the first takes place after Else has dictated the marriage contract. The burgomaster, who at all hazards must get out before Lampe comes back, consents to everything. Bertel employs his profession in writing out the whole contract and through a peephole in the sideboard the burgomaster has to sign it before the door is finally opened to him. But he makes his terms. In place of himself, Bertel and Else must enter the sideboard. Naturally they do not hesitate long and they are for the first time together undisturbed within it. The burgomaster has concealed himself in the next room when the two women come back with a gay company. (The following very indelicate passage, which endangers all the sympathy of the audience for Frau Gertrud, might easily be cut out.) Frau Gertrud has brought people from a nearby shooters' festival to show them the trapped burgomaster, evidently because she believes her scheme more assured thus. All the greater is the astonishment when the young couple step out of the opened sideboard. But the burgomaster all of a sudden appears in the background. Then Frau Gertrud cleverly takes everything on herself. She had shut up the young couple in it and had spread the report that the burgomaster was concealed in it in order that he might be affected by it and could no longer oppose the union of the two young people. Surely everything is solved satisfactorily when Lampe arrives with every sign of agitation. He has not found the burgomaster, and Else and the clerk of the court have disappeared. The burgomaster must certainly have been murdered by the clerk. Lampe rages so long in the excessive indignation of his official power that he himself is shut up in the sideboard and the others, now undisturbed, seal their compact and reseal it.

DER TROMPETER VON SÄKKINGEN
THE TRUMPETER OF SÄKKINGEN

Prologue. In the Heidelberg palace courtyard there is a merry company of students and peasants gathered in a drinking bout. The enthusiasm for "Old Heidelberg the fine" and for the gay life of a cavalier takes on such a noisy expression that the steward of the Rector's wife orders them to be quiet. Werner Kirchhofer, a law student, leaps on a table, the peasant Konradin lends him his trumpet and now there echoes forth the sweet song "which once the Palsgrave Friedrich sang" in honour of the "Palsgravin, the most beautiful of women." But the Rector and the Senate entertain other views of the nightly noise of trumpets and the entire body of students is expelled. So they all seek to become cavaliers.

Act I. In SÄkkingen a great festival is being held, Fridolin's day. Peasants from the suburbs have come to town for it. There is a suspicious agitation among them. Konradin who is now in the service of the state has his hands full keeping order. What happiness when he sees his old comrade Werner. But now as Maria, daughter of the Baron von SchÖnau; together with her haughty aunt, the divorced wife of Count von Wildenstein, arrive at the church, insurrection breaks out. Who knows what the peasants would not have done to the ladies had not Werner as knightly protector sprung between them. Love at first sight seized the two young people. (Change of scene.) Above in SchÖnau castle the old baron is again tormented by chills. Serving as a means of lessening his pain comes a letter from his brother-in-law, Count von Wildenstein, who announces that he is coming to visit him. He has a son, Damian, who would be just the right husband for SchÖnau's daughter Maria. Moreover that would be an opportunity to bring about a reconciliation between the count and his divorced wife, none other than Maria's aunt. The marriage was dissolved and their son was once stolen by gypsies. Damian is a son of the second wife of Count von Wildenstein, who is dead. Out of his pleasant thoughts about his future son-in-law and protector of the castle in these evil days the Baron is frightened by the reports of his women about the uprising of the peasants. In the praise that Maria gives to the brave trumpeter is echoed his playing from the Rhine to here. That stirs the old baron like an elixir of youth in his bones. The trumpeter is summoned and a look in Maria's love-warmed eyes is enough for him to accept the Baron's offer to become trumpeter of the castle. Of course the proximity of the young people will not please the aunt.

Act II. That they love each other both already long know but the acknowledgment nevertheless would be very beautiful. But the old aunt is always at hand especially at the music lessons which Werner gives to the young woman. A real piece of luck that Konradin is coming today to the castle to bring wine for the May festival. He knows how to arrange it so that the old woman must go to the wine cellar. Now it is all over with pride. Maria lies in the arms of the humble trumpeter. Unfortunately, the old aunt comes back. She is not moved by their prayers, but tells all about it to the excited Baron. Nothing helps, the trumpeter must leave the house. Maria's bridegroom is already chosen. At today's May festival he will take part. Damian is certainly stupid enough but that does not help the lovers. "Would to God that it had not been so beautiful, would to God it had not been!"

Act III. But Damian is not only stupid, he is also a miserable coward. That is shown as it now behooves him to defend Baron von SchÖnau's castle against the revolted peasants. The knights there would have been lost had not relief suddenly come. It is Werner who arrives with a troop of country people. Maria flees to her lover's arms. But alas, he is wounded in the arm. And what is that? That mole? The old Countess Wildenstein recognizes in the trumpeter her son, whom the gypsies once stole. Now naturally there is nothing in the way of the union. Now "young Werner is the happiest man" and who can deny that "Love and trumpet sounds are very useful, good things."

DER EVANGELIMANN
THE EVANGELIST

Act I. The feelings in the breast of Johannes Freudhofer, the teacher, do not correspond to the peaceful spectacle of the monastery of the Benedictine Abbey of St. Othmar. He is filled with a savage jealousy of his own brother, Matthias, who is actuary in the monastery, because he sees that the affections of Martha, the beautiful niece of Engel, the steward of the monastery, are denied him. He thinks to injure his brother when he betrays the latter's love to the haughty steward. And the latter actually dismisses Matthias from his office. But with this Johannes has not attained his object. For he himself can spy on them and see the two plighting eternal faithfulness on his secret departure. So the treacherous man resolved upon the complete ruin of the lovers. He sets fire to the monastery. Matthias, who is tarrying in the arbour beside his sweetheart hurries out to get help, but is seized by the other as the incendiary out of revenge.

Act II. Thirty years have elapsed. In the courtyard of a house in Vienna, Magdalena meets an evangelist in whom she recognizes Matthias, the friend of her youth. She herself is here caring for Johannes who is ill. How has Matthias become an evangelist? He tells her his sad history. He had been sentenced to prison for twenty years. When he had finished his punishment he learned that his sweetheart Martha out of grief had sought death in the water. Then he had become a wandering, singing preacher.

Second Part. In the sitting-room, Johannes lies ill. But more than pain disturbs his mind. Then he hears outside the voice of the evangelist. Magdalena must call him in. Without recognizing him Johannes tells his brother of the infamous action through which he had ruined the other's life. And Matthias not only preaches love but practices it too. He forgives his brother who now can die in peace.

DER KUHREIGEN
RANZ DES VACHES

Act I. Barracks of St. HonorÉ. Under penalty of death the Swiss soldiers have been forbidden to sing their native songs especially the Kuhreigen or "Ranz des Vaches," because songs of their native land always awakened homesickness and had led to desertions. But a quarrel between Primus Thallus, of the Swiss, and Favart, of the Chasseurs, excites the Swiss and they sing "In the fort at Strassburg" (Zu Strassburg auf der Schanz) the song of the Swiss who became a deserter through homesickness, the song which was forbidden by such a severe decree, especially because it introduced the Kuhreigen or "Ranz des Vaches." Then Favart believed the moment had come to be able to avenge himself. He quickly called an officer to hear the forbidden song. The officer first wants to arrest all the Swiss, but Primus Thallus takes all the blame on himself; he is glad to prevent the others being imprisoned.

Act II. In the King's bedroom at Versailles the ceremony of the royal levee is taking place. This medley of laughable ceremonial and the practice of the highest refinement makes a sharp contrast with the wild ferment and discontent among the people, of which, however, no one hears anything in these rooms and will know nothing. So the commandant Massimelle is among those waiting because he has to lay before the King the death sentence on the unsubdued Swiss. Naturally the King thinks nothing about bringing an obsolete law into force again, and leaves the decision to Massimelle's wife, Blanchefleur. She begs Thallus's life for herself and wants to learn the fellow manners in her service. Silly as are the thoughts of this whole company, so also are those of Blanchefleur. Through a whim she has obtained the release of the young Swiss, now she wants as a reward to have diversion with him. The high authorities already are glad to play shepherds and shepherdesses; what would happen if they could have a real Swiss as a shepherd! Cleo, the court lady, is perfectly delighted with the idea and awaits with enjoyment the play in which Primus Thallus shall appear with Blanchefleur. But the play takes a serious turn, Primus Thallus sees no joke in the thing. To him, Blanchefleur appears as the image of his dreams, and yet he knows that this dream never can be a reality, at least not for a man to whom, as to this Swiss, love is not merely a form of amusement in life. So Blanchefleur has to give up her shepherd's dream and let Primus Thallus withdraw.

Act III. The earnest man is very quickly drawn in. In the ruined dining-hall of the palace of Massimelle, the sans-culottes are lodged. Favart, under whose direction the castle has been stormed, is vexed at his report for which Doris, his sweetheart, and the others with their wild drinking and quarrelling scarcely leave him the possibility. By chance the half-drunken men discover a secret door. They go down into the passage and drag out Blanchefleur who had concealed herself there. Favart wants her to play for the men, but he cannot prevail upon her to do it. With her graceful, distinguished air she refuses to have anything to do with the dirty, uncivilized men and smilingly allows herself to be condemned to death and led away to the frightful prison of the Temple. Hardly has she gone than Primus Thallus enters. He has been promoted by the Directory to be a captain as a reward because he has often been threatened with death by the royalists. His great courage certainly makes an impression on these savage troops, but as Massimelle outside is being led to the scaffold and he learns of the arrest of Blanchefleur only one thought rules him—to save the beautiful woman.

The scene changes to the underground prison of the Temple. One can hardly recognize the figure of Primus Thallus who presents himself here, but one must admit of these aristocrats that while they know how to live laughingly they also know how to die with a smile. While without the guillotine is fulfilling its awful task uninterruptedly, they are dancing and playing here underneath as though these were still the gayest days of the King's delights at Versailles. In vain Primus Thallus uses all his eloquence to persuade Blanchefleur to flee or to give him her hand because then he could obtain a pardon. She has only one reward for his faithfulness: a dance. Then when her name is called she dances with a light minuet step to the scaffold.

LOBETANZ

Act I. This play takes place somewhere and somewhen but begins in a blooming garden in spring. And the most fragrant flowers in the garden are the lovely girls that play in it. Take care, Lobetanz; take care! Now that you have leaped over the wall into the garden, still take care! You are a travelling singer, your clothes are tattered; but you are a magnificent fellow and sing as only a bird can sing or a fellow who knows nothing about the illness of the Princess. What is the matter with her then? She no longer laughs as she once did, her cheeks are pale, she no longer sings but sighs. "Alas!" Oh, the maidens know what is the matter with her but no one asks the maidens. The poet-laureate today at the festival of the Early Rose Day will announce what is the matter with the child of the King. And the King is coming, the Princess and the people. And the poets proudly strut in and make known their wisdom. But that does not help. Now the sound of a violin is heard. How the Princess listens and now the player comes before her and fiddles and sings and the maid revives. Roses bloom on her cheeks; her eyes shine in looking at the violinist who is singing of the morning in May when they kissed each other, innocently dear, and played "bridegroom and bride." You must flee, Lobetanz, flee; that is magic with which you are subduing the child of the King.

Act II. Spring has awakened your heart, you happy singer, and has brought to life what was asleep deep within you. Now you may dream of what will be. And see, she comes to you, the sick Princess, to be restored to health by you. And she sits there by you in the branch of a linden tree. But alas, alas! The King and his hunting train are suddenly there and all things have an end.

Act III. In a dungeon sits the bird once so gay. For "dead, dead, dead must he be and so slip with hurrahs into the infernal abode." And they lead you to the gallows and tell you your sentence. And the King and the people, the envious singers and the Princess sick unto death on her bier are all there. Now choose your last present, you poor gallows bird. So let me once more sing. And, "see, Oh see, how the delicate face is covered with a rosy glow." He is singing her back to life, the lovely Princess, until finally she flees to his arms: "Thou art mine!" Now leave the gallows, there is a wedding today. "A great magician is Lobetanz, let the couple only look, the gallows shine with luck and lustre; spring has done wonders."

DER CORREGIDOR
THE MAGISTRATE

Act I. The miller, Tio Lucas, is living a happy life with his beautiful wife, Frasquita. Her love is so true that jealousy, to which he is inclined, cannot thrive. Jealous? Yes, he has a bump of jealousy. True, the Corregidor, who eagerly concerns him about the miller's pretty wife, has one too. But no matter, he is a high, very influential functionary. Meanwhile Frasquita loves her Tio Lucas so truly that she can even allow herself a dance with the Corregidor. Perhaps she will cure him so, perhaps she will obtain in addition the wished-for official place for her nephew. The Corregidor too does not keep her waiting long and Frasquita makes him so much in love with her that he becomes very impetuous. Thereupon he loses his balance and the worthy official falls in the dust, out of which the miller, without suspecting anything, raises him up. But the Corregidor swears revenge.

Act II. The opportunity for this comes very quickly. As the miller one evening is sitting with his wife in their cozy room, there comes a knock at the door. It is the drunken court messenger, Tonuelo, who produces a warrant of arrest. Tio Lucas must follow him without delay to the alcalde who has lent himself as a willing instrument to the Corregidor. Frasquita is trying to calm her anxiety with a song when outside there is a cry for help. She opens the door and before it stands the Corregidor dripping with water. He had fallen in the brook. Now he begs admission from Frasquita who is raging with anger. He has also brought with him the appointment of the nephew. But the angry woman will pay no attention and sends the Corregidor away from her threshold. Then he falls in a swoon. His own servant now comes along. Frasquita admits both of them to the house and herself goes into town to look for her Tio Lucas. When the Corregidor, awakened out of his swoon, hears this, full of anxiety, he sends his valet after her; he himself, however, hangs his wet clothes before the fire and goes to bed in the miller's bedroom.

(Change of scene.) In the meantime Tio Lucas has drunk under the table the alcalde and his fine comrades and seizes the occasion to flee.

Act III. In the darkness of the night, Tio Lucas and Frasquita pass by without seeing each other. The miller comes to his mill. (Change of scene.) Everything is open. In the dust lies the appointment of the nephew; before the fire hang the Corregidor's clothes. A frightful suspicion arises in Tio Lucas's mind which becomes certainty when through the keyhole he sees the Corregidor in his own bed. He is already groping for his rifle to shoot the seducer and the faithless woman when another thought strikes him. The Corregidor also has a wife, a beautiful wife. Here the Corregidor's clothes are hanging. He quickly slips into them and goes back to town. In the meantime the Corregidor has awakened. He wants to go back home now. But he does not find his clothes and so he crawls into those of the miller. Thus he is almost arrested by the alcalde who now enters with his companions and Frasquita. When the misunderstanding is cleared up, they all go with different feelings into the town after the miller.

Act IV. Now comes the explanation and the punishment of the Corregidor, at least in so far as he receives a sound thrashing and becomes really humbled. In reality the miller also has not yet had his "revenge," but he is recognized and likewise is beaten blue. That he must suffer in reparation for his doubt of the faithful Frasquita, and he hears it willingly for they have now come to a good understanding about everything.