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KIRKE (CIRCE).
A Music-Tragedy in a Prologue and three acts by AUGUST BUNGERT.
Kirke, the first part of Bungert's Odyssey was given for the first time in Dresden January 29th 1898. It had the same immense success as Odysseus' Return. Nevertheless it is weaker in many parts, which is perhaps due in part to the less congenial subject of its heroine. All the sweet parts of the tragedy, like the chorus of the Oceanides in the Prologue, the quartetti of the four nymphs and Periander's song of Ithaka are perfect in melody and expression. The strong and violent parts are Bungert's weakness they are often rather more noisy and wild than powerful, and they remind strongly of Wagner. Nevertheless the building up of the whole is grand and dramatic, and the hearer's interest never flags.
Prologue. "Polyphemus."
From the sea rises in the form of a chain of mountains the figure of Gaea in blue-green moonlight. Her song, sung by ba.s.s voices behind the scene, is about her children, the elect, the conquerors of the world, a race of men steeled by suffering, that struggle from darkness to light; who, lost and wandering during life, with vehement longings, yet remain blind, till in death their eyes are opened--but too late!
Then Eos, as conqueror of the world swings in a galop on his lion to Olympus, singing to his {404} lyre in praise of Love, the Conqueror, to whom men and G.o.ds bow. Olympus appears beyond the clouds. There the G.o.ds are a.s.sembled in council to decide the fate of Odysseus. Athene and Hermes plead for the sorely-tried hero. Zeus answers that the immortal G.o.ds know and have determined every step of man's life. He gives his sanction to Athene and Hermes to watch over and defend Odysseus. Again clouds hide the scene. When they part we find ourselves in Sicily before the cavern of Polyphemus the Cyclops. Here Odysseus carries out the cunning plan he has made to free his companions from certain death at the hands of the giant. He blinds the Cyclops with a red-hot stake, and escapes with his friends by clinging to the long fleece of the sheep of Polyphemus, who unsuspectingly lets them out in the morning to graze. Polyphemus, finding himself outwitted by Odysseus,--who makes himself known when at a safe distance,--curses the hero and vows vengeance upon him, calling his father Poseidon to pursue Odysseus with his fury at sea. Friendly sea-nymphs, and Eos (the Dawn) hover round the heroes' s.h.i.+p and speed them in safety on their way.
Act I.
When the curtain rises the kingdom of Kirke, daughter of the sun-G.o.d Helios, lies before us, bathed in glowing suns.h.i.+ne. The foreground is a luxurious garden whose groves of palms and fantastic southern trees extend in deepening shade into the background. {405} A colossal sphinx crouches at the gates of Kirke's palace on the left. Springs of water, represented by four attendant nymphs sing to their queen in melodious harmony. But Kirke--a lovely vision in soft flowing robes of yellow hue, with ma.s.ses of red-gold hair, crowned with sun flowers--cannot be cheered by their sweet songs. She lies on her leopard-skin couch sunk in melancholy; she despairs of ever finding a hero worthy of her love.
In wildest grief she bewails her hard lot; many suitors have presented themselves, all have proved low and ign.o.ble in their aims and intentions. She has by her magic given them the outward form that corresponds with their inner nature; the grunting of swine is heard in the distance mingled with the wails and laments of human voices; Kirke listens with rage and contempt; she flings herself back on her couch; she hates the glaring light of day and longs for darkness. The maidens close the gates of the palace. Night comes on and the moon rises.
Odysseus, waiting vainly for the return of his companions, hears from his brother-in-law, Periander who has escaped, that the rest have been changed into swine, after having drunk of the enchantress' cup.
Odysseus has set out to seek and rescue them; he is seen wandering in the background among the trees. The friendly G.o.d Hermes, invisible, whispers good counsel to Odysseus, and puts into his hand a magic herb which will counteract the enchantment of Kirke's cup. Full of hope and {406} courage, Odysseus knocks for admittance with his sword on the palace gates; they open, and suddenly in dazzling light, Kirke stands before him in all her dangerous beauty and charm. For a moment the hero is overcome with amazement and admiration. Kirke is radiant with joy; here is the world-famed hero at her feet. But again the grunting of swine and cries of grief are heard. Odysseus springs up; drawing his sword he commands Kirke to free her victims; she vainly tries to resist; she offers him her fatal cup. Odysseus takes it, but un.o.bserved he drops the magic herb of Hermes into it, then drinks the now harmless draught. Kirke, swaying her magic wand looks to see Odysseus immediately transformed as his companions were; but he remains unchanged, and commands her to free his friends. Kirke, vanquished, obeys. One by one the men rush out of the palace in their natural forms and warmly thank and praise their deliverer. But Odysseus has himself fallen into the power of the enchantress; a wild pa.s.sion has taken possession of him; he forgets his duty, his wife and child.
Hastily dismissing his companions he falls into Kirke's arms.
Wondering and distressed Periander returns singing Penelope's song; he approaches and endeavours to rouse Odysseus to a sense of his duty; he reminds him of home and wife and child, but in vain; the infatuated hero, under the influence of this unholy pa.s.sion, so far forgets himself as in furious rage to attack Periander with his spear. {407} Periander in grief and despair turns to depart, and is mortally wounded by the spear of Odysseus which the latter hurls at him in his flight.
In the distance the song of Gaea is heard.
Act II
The scene takes place on the sea-sh.o.r.e of the coast of Kirke's island Aea.
Many of the companions of Odysseus are lying about sick or dying of a plague caused by the cruel rays of the sun and the poisonous air of the island. Helios is thus revenging himself upon the mortals that have offended him.
Periander, dying of the fatal spear wound, is being tended by two or three friends not yet struck down by the pestilence.
Odysseus has heard of their distress; he tears himself from the arms of Kirke and comes to rea.s.sure and comfort his friends; but all turn from him with horror, and curse him as the author of their woes.
All but Periander, who with a last, supreme effort implores Odysseus to fly from the enchantress and return with his companions to his faithful wife Penelope and take her her brother's dying greeting. Deeply touched Odysseus promises to do so; the spell that bound him to Kirke is broken; Periander consoled dies in his arms.
With his old energy Odysseus sets to work with the companions still in health to prepare the s.h.i.+p for sailing away at once; when Helios appears {408} in his dazzling chariot. Stricken with terror all fall to the earth. Helios is about to aim his fatal arrow at Odysseus, when Kirke rushes upon the scene to protect her beloved hero. Helios warns his daughter that like all mortals Odysseus is false and fickle; but she will not believe her father's warnings, and he drives sadly away.
Odysseus still lies on a couch unconscious as when first struck down.
Hermes appears to him in a vision and tells him his mother Antikleia died the very day, Odysseus was ensnared by Kirke. In agony he cries out in his delirious sleep; he longs for darkness, only this can cure him. Kirke bids him descend to the underworld; the couch sinks with him and the scene gradually changes to the realm of Hades.
When the darkness clears away Odysseus is seen with two of his companions in the mournful land of Hades; they offer sacrifices and refresh the shades in the underworld with draughts of blood.
Antikleia, the mother of Odysseus approaches and touchingly pleads the cause of Penelopeia with him. Teiresias, the Seer prophecies the future fate of Odysseus, who listens with awe. Periander pa.s.ses by with his gaping wound. Agamemnon, Ajax and other great heroes of Troy approach; all mourn and bewail their sad doom to wander as shades in the changeless gloom of the underworld; they eagerly struggle to seize and quaff the cup offered to them by the attendants at the altar.
Achilles rushes forward and accuses Odysseus of {409} cowardice; he has fatally wounded his friend in the back; he is the slave of Kirke!
Odysseus draws his sword, the living and the dead heroes fight; the other shadows press forward with wild yells upon Odysseus, who, overpowered, falls senseless to the ground. With vivid lightning and pealing thunder the scene is quickly shrouded in darkness and the curtain falls.
Act III.
The scene changes again to Kirke's enchanted garden. On the steps of the palace Odysseus lies sleeping with his head resting on Kirke's knee. He murmurs names in his dreams. Kirke listens, hoping to hear her own name, but only hears that of Penelopeia. Enraged, the enchantress roughly wakens him. The hero is himself again. He exclaims: "Away to my native land! to my wife! to my hearth and home!"
A wild struggle begins between the two. Kirke strives with all her arts and blandishments to enchain him, to keep him. Odysseus resists; he has gained the victory over himself, he is no longer in the power of the syren; his will is inflexible. All in vain does she strive to charm him by the delights of her garden; the songs and dances of her maidens; her sweetest caresses. He turns from her with loathing, he curses her. At last Kirke's love turns to fierce hatred; she changes her garden into a desert; she calls upon Helios to come and slay her recreant lover. The sun G.o.d appears indeed, but says Zeus has forbidden him to injure Odysseus. In mad {410} frenzy Kirke tears his bow and arrow from Helios; she will kill her false lover herself; but her heart misgives her, the arrow sinks from her hand. At the same moment, Hermes, as messenger of the G.o.ds appears and cries: "Set the hero of Ilium free!" Kirke, subdued, requires Odysseus to unsay the curse he had spoken against her. "Be it so!" he solemnly says; and he is free.
He is now joined by his remaining companions, they have found their arms; they arm Odysseus; the s.h.i.+p is ready to sail; they all hasten away. Helios remains to console Kirke; he foretells that she shall have a son; a heroic child; she sinks smiling on a flower covered couch; Helios lulls her to sleep. In the distance is seen the s.h.i.+p with the heroes sailing joyously away.
The song of Gaea is heard once more.
The curtain falls.
ERNANI.
A melodramatic Opera in four parts.
Taken from VICTOR HUGO'S Drama of the same name.
Text by F. MARIA PIAVE.
Music by GIUSEPPE VERDI.
Verdi wrote this opera in 1844 when in his thirtieth year. One cannot help being struck by the improvement shown in it, as compared with Verdi's first operas Nabukadnezar and the Lombardi, and through Ernani the composer at once became one of the most popular musicians in Italy.
The opera did not however at first find favour {411} in France and Germany, and Verdi's fame was only established in these countries by his later operas, Rigoletto and Il Trovatore. But of late Ernani has been revived and duly appreciated wherever his fine melodies are heard, and its pa.s.sionnate verve is felt, which is mostly due to its highly dramatic subject.
Here is a brief outline of the libretto:--
Ernani, an Italian rebel of obscure parentage is the accepted lover of Donna Elvira, the high-born niece of Don Ruy Gomez de Silva, Grandee of Spain.
Donna Elvira is also coveted by Don Carlos, King of Spain, and by her old uncle Silva, who is about to wed her, much against her will.
Ernani comes to Silva's castle in the garb of a pilgrim, and finds the King in Donna Elvira's room, trying to lure her away. Here they are surprised by de Silva, who, failing to recognize his sovereign challenges both men to mortal combat.--When he recognizes the King in one of his foes, he is in despair and humbly craves his pardon, which is granted to him.--At the same time Don Carlos sends Ernani away on a distant errand, hoping to rid himself of him once for all; but Donna Elvira vows to kill herself rather than belong either to the King or to her uncle, and promises unwavering constancy to her lover Ernani.
Nevertheless the second Act shows Elvira on the eve of her wedding with her uncle de Silva.
Ernani, once more proclaimed an outlaw seeks {412} refuge in de Silva's castle, again disguised as a pilgrim. But when Ernani hears of Donna Elvira's approaching marriage with de Silva, he reveals his ident.i.ty and offers his head to the old man, telling him that his life is forfeited and that a reward is offered for his capture. De Silva is too generous to betray his rival; he orders the gates of the castle to be barred at once.--While this is being done, Ernani violently reproaches Elvira for having played him false. She answers, that she has been led to believe him dead, and dissolved in tears they embrace tenderly. Thus they are surprised by de Silva who, though for the time being bound by the laws of hospitality swears to destroy Ernani, wherever he may find him.
For the moment however he conceals his foe so well, that Don Carlos'
followers cannot find him. Though the King threatens to take the old man's life, the n.o.bleman remains true to his word and even makes the greatest sacrifice by delivering Elvira as a hostage into the King's hands.
Left alone he opens Ernani's hiding-place and challenges him to fight, but when the latter proves to him, that Don Carlos is his rival and wants to seduce Elvira, de Silva's wrath turns against the King.
He accepts Ernani's offer to help him in frustrating the King's designs, but at the same time he reminds him that his life is forfeited.--Ernani declares himself satisfied and gives de Silva a bugle, the sound of which is to proclaim, that the hour of reckoning between the two foes has come.