Paradise and the Peri.

Schumann's secular oratorio, "Paradise and the Peri," was written in 1843, and first performed at the Gewandhaus, Leipsic, December 4th of that [274] year, under the composer's own direction. Its first performance in England was given June 23, 1856, with Madame Jenny Lind-Goldschmidt in the part of the Peri, Sterndale Bennett conducting. The text is taken from the second poem in Moore's "Lalla Rookh," and was suggested to Schumann by his friend Emil Flechsig, who had translated the poem. This was in 1841; but he did not set it to music until two years later. The text required many changes, and these he made himself. The principal additions are a chorus for "The Spirits of the Nile," the chorus of Houris, the Peri's solo, "Banished," the quartet, "Peri, 'tis true," the solo, "Sunken was the Golden Orb," and the final chorus. It has also been suggested that he availed himself of still another translation, that of Ollker's, as many of the changes agree with his text.

It is difficult to define the exact form of the work, though it is nearly always classed as a secular oratorio, principally because of the introduction of the narrator, after the style of the passion-music. In other respects it resembles the cantata. Reissmann, in his Life of Schumann, says on this point,--

"It seems right that he should have retained the most primitive form of the oratorio, that of the passion-music. The poem has no genuinely dramatic course; there was not the smallest intrinsic or extrinsic reason to dramatize it more fully. Even with treatment such as that of the 'Walpurgisnacht,' it must have lost much of its picturesque development [275] The only proper way to treat the subject, therefore, was to retain the original epic form, and to introduce a narrator in the style of antique oratorio, who should relate the facts in a few simple words up to the point where they seem to demand a more dramatic setting."

Von Wasielewski also discusses the same point:

"The narrator is evidently copied from the evangelist in Bach's passion-music; but by no means with a like necessity. Unquestionably the latter shared the conviction of his day, that not only the substance, but the words, of the biblical dogma were sacred. Schumann's case was not at all similar. He had before him, in the poem to be set to music, a work of art which, although once remodelled, would still permit every formal change required by Æsthetic considerations. How easy, for example, it would have been to abolish the narrator, as destructive of unity!"

Had the narrative passages been omitted, it would unquestionably have enhanced the interest and perhaps relieved the monotony and wearisomeness of some parts of the work. Unlike the usual manner in which the narrator's part is treated,--as a mere recitative link between numbers,--Schumann invests it with the same importance as the acts and events themselves, and treats it melodically, so that the relief which comes from contrast is lacking.

The oratorio is written in three parts, for solo voices, chorus, and orchestra, the principals being the Peri (soprano); the Angel (alto); the King of Gazna (bass); a Youth (tenor); the Horseman (baritone); and the Maiden (soprano). The choruses [276] are sung by Indians, Angels, Houris, and Genii of the Nile, and the part of Narrator is divided among the various voices. The story follows that of the original poem. The Peri, expelled from Paradise, stands at its gate weeping to think

"her recreant race

Should e'er have lost that sacred place."

The angel who keeps the gate of light promises she shall be re-admitted if she brings "the gift that is most dear to Heaven." The Peri goes in quest of the gift, first to India, where she procures the last drop of blood shed by the hero who resisted the tyrant Mahmoud, and takes it with her to the gate; but the crystal bar moves not. She continues her quest, and from the pestilential plains of Egypt she takes back the last sigh of the maiden who sacrificed herself to her love for the youth who stole out to die alone. But still the crystal bar moves not. At last, in the vale of Baalbec, she finds the gift,--the tear of a repentant sinner,--which secures her admission.

After a brief orchestral introduction, the Narrator (alto) tells the story of the disconsolate Peri at the gate, and introduces her in the first solo ("How blest seem to me, vanished Child of Air"), a tender, beautiful melody, characterized by romantic sentiment. The Narrator (tenor) introduces the Angel, who delivers her message to the Peri ("One Hope is thine"), to which the latter replies in a sensuous melody, full of Oriental color ("I know the Wealth [277] hidden in every Urn"). The tenor Narrator introduces at this point a quartet ("O beauteous Land"), in which the two trebles, tenor, and bass alternate, followed by the full, powerful chorus, "But crimson now her Rivers ran." A weird march, fairly barbaric in its effect, indicates the approach of the tyrant of Gazna, and introduces the stirring chorus of the Indians and Conquerors ("Hail to Mahmoud"). The tenor Narrator describes the youthful warrior standing alone beside his native river and defying the tyrant. Once more the chorus shouts its greeting to Mahmoud, and then ensues a dialogue in recitative between the two, leading up to the youth's death and a double chorus of lamentation ("Woe, for false flew the Shaft"). The tenor Narrator describes the flight of the Peri to catch the last drop of blood shed for liberty; and then all the voices join with the soprano solo in a broad, strong, exultant finale ("For Blood must holy be"), which is one of the most effective numbers in the work.

The second part opens in the most charming manner. The tenor Narrator pictures the return of the Peri with her gift, leading up to the Angel's solo ("Sweet is our welcome"), which preludes a brief choral passage for sixteen female voices. After the Narrator's declaration of her disappointment, the scene changes to Egypt, and in a dainty, delicate three-part chorus the Spirits of the Nile are invoked not to disturb the Peri. Her lament is heard ("O Eden, how longeth for thee my Heart!"), and the Spirits now weave a gentle, sympathetic strain with [278] her song. A long tenor narration follows ("Now wanders forth the Peri sighing"), describing the pestilence brooding over the Egyptian plains, the music to which is very characteristic. The scene of the maiden dying with her lover is full of pathos, and contains two exquisite numbers,--the narrative solo for mezzo-soprano ("Poor Youth, thus deserted"), and the dying love-song of the Maiden ("O let me only breathe the Air, Love"). The scene closes with a sweet and gentle lament for the pair ("Sleep on"), sung by the Peri, followed by the chorus, which joins in the pathetic farewell.

The third part opens with a lovely chorus of Houris ("Wreathe ye the Steps to Great Allah's Throne"), interspersed with solos and Oriental in its coloring. The tenor narration ("Now Morn is blushing in the Sky"), which is very melodious in character, introduces the Angel, who in an alto solo ("Not yet") once more dooms the Peri to wander. Her reply ("Rejected and sent from Eden's Door") is full of despair. The narration is now taken by the baritone in a flowing, breezy strain ("And now o'er Syria's rosy Plain"), which is followed by a charming quartet of Peris ("Say, is it so?"). Once more the baritone intervenes, followed by the Peri; and then the tenor Narrator takes up the theme in a stirring description of the boy nestling amid the roses, and the "passion-stained" horseman at the fountain. The alto proclaims the vesper call to prayer, and the tenor reflects upon the memories of the wretched man as he sees the child kneeling. [279] The solo baritone announces his repentance, followed by a quartet and chorus in very broad, full harmony ("O blessed Tears of true Repentance!"). The next number is a double one, composed of soprano and tenor solos with chorus ("There falls a Drop on the Land of Egypt"). In an exultant, triumphant strain ("Joy, joy forever, my Work is done!"), the Peri sings her happiness, and the chorus brings the work to a close with the heavenly greeting, "Oh, welcome 'mid the Blessed!" The third part is unquestionably long and wearisome, and taxes not only the voices of the singers, but also the patience of the hearers. The first and second, however, contain some beautiful gems, and the orchestral work is very rich in its coloring. Taken all in all, however, it is a severe treatment of a fanciful subject.