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New Version
of
Les Contes
d’Hoffmann
(The Tales of Hoffman)
Opera in Four Acts
With an original and novel first Act and other important changes
Book by Jules Barbier
New English version by Charles Alfred Byrne
As performed, for the first time in America at the
Manhattan Opera House,
under the direction of
Oscar Hammerstein.
English Version, 1907, by Steinway & Sons.
Charles E. Burden, Publisher, Steinway Hall
107-109 East 14th Street
New York.
Transcriber’s note: Both the English and the French texts are known
to have a significant number of errors, misprints, and inconsistencies.
They are here presented without correction.
New Version
of
Les Contes
d’Hoffmann
(The Tales of Hoffman)
Opera in Four Acts
With an original and novel first Act and other important changes
Book by Jules Barbier
New English version by Charles Alfred Byrne
As performed, for the first time in America at the
Manhattan Opera House,
under the direction of
Oscar Hammerstein.
English Version, 1907, by Steinway & Sons.
Charles E. Burden, Publisher, Steinway Hall
107-109 East 14th Street
New York.
Dramatis Personæ.
-
Hoffmann
-
Counselor Lindorf
-
Coppelius
-
Dapertutto
-
Doctor Miracle
-
Spalanzani
-
Crespel
-
Andres
-
Cochenille
-
Frantz
-
Luther
-
Nathanael
-
Hermann
-
Stella
-
Giulietta
-
Olympia
-
Antonia
-
Nicklausse
-
The Muse
-
A Ghost
Argument
In the first act, which is really a prologue, Hoffmann, a young poet,
enters the tavern of Luther to meet his companions, and drinks to drown
his sorrows. They think he is in love, but he answers, all that is past,
and tells the story of his three loves.
A physician’s drawing room. Spalanzani has invited a large company
to witness the accomplishments of his daughter, Olympia. She sings to
general applause, and Hoffmann falls desperately in love with her. As the
guests go to supper, Hoffmann tells her of his passion and thinks he finds
a responsive echo in her. There is dancing, and she waltzes him off his
feet. A Dr. Coppelius comes in to say he has been swindled by Spalanzani.
He slips into Olympia’s room, from which a noise of breaking is
heard. Coppelius, out of revenge, has smashed Olympia. She was only an
automaton. Hoffmann is astonished.
At Venice, in the house of Giulietta, beloved of Schlemil, who takes the
arrival of Hoffmann very ungraciously. Hoffmann cares nothing for
Giulietta, but she is bribed by Dapertutto to make Hoffmann love her, and
she succeeds by making him believe, that he is her ideal. But as a proof
of his love she wants Hoffmann to get the key of her room away from
Schlemil. Hoffmann demands the key; Schlemil tells him to come and take
it, and they fight. Schlemil is killed. Hoffmann takes the key and rushes
to Giulietta’s room, and finding nobody, comes back, only to see her
riding off in her gondola, laughing at him, and with her arms around
another man’s neck. Hoffmann is disgusted.
Antonia has been told by her father, Crespel, to sing no more. When
Hoffmann, who has long loved her, comes, he wonders why, but he soon
learns by overhearing a conversation between Crespel and an evil person
called Doctor Miracle that Antonia is afflicted with consumption. He then
begs her also not to sing, and she promises him. When Hoffmann goes,
Miracle comes in and tells her it is all nonsense, to sing as much as she
likes; but she will not break her promise to Hoffmann. Miracle then causes
the ghost of Antonia’s mother to appear, and to her prayers the girl
yields. Miracle urges her on and on, until she is utterly exhausted. She
falls dying, and her father receives her last breath. Hoffmann is
heartbroken.
A return to the scene of the first act. Hoffmann has told his stories. His
companions leave him. The Muse appears and tells him that she is the only
mistress to follow, the only one who will remain true to him. His spirit
flickers a moment with gratitude. Then his head sinks on the table, and he
sleeps.
The Tales of Hoffmann
Act I.
(The Tavern of Martin Luther. The interior of a German inn. Tables and
benches.)
Chorus of Students.
Drig, drig, drig, master Luther,
Spark of hades,
Drig, drig, drig, for us more beer,
For us thy wine,
Until morning,
Fill my glass,
Until morning,
Fill our pewter Mugs!
Nathanael.
Luther is a brave man,
Tire, lan, laire,
T’is to-morrow that we brain him,
Tire, lan, la!
Chorus.
Tire, lon, la!
Luther (going from table to table).
Here, gentlemen, here.
Hermann.
His cellar is a goodly spot,
Tire lon, laire,
’Tis tomorrow we devast it,
Tire lon la!
Chorus.
Tire lon la!
(Knocking of glasses.)
Luther.
Here, gentlemen, here.
Wilhelm.
His wife is a daughter of Eve,
Tire lan laire,
’Tis to-morrow we abduct her,
Tire lon la.
Chorus.
Tire lon la!
Luther.
Here, gentlemen, here.
Chorus.
Drig, drig, drig, master Luther,
etc., etc.
(The students sit drinking and smoking.)
Nathanael.
And Luther, my goodly vat,
What have you done with our Hoffman.
Hermann.
T’is your wine poisoned him,
You’ve killed him faith of Herrmann,
Give us back Hoffmann.
All.
Give us Hoffmann.
Lindorf (aside).
To the devil, Hoffmann.
Nathanael.
Let them bring him to us
Or your last day has dawned.
Luther.
Gentlemen, he comes.
(He opens the door, and Nicklausse is with him.)
All.
Hurrah, ’tis he.
Lindorf (aside).
Let’s watch him.
Hoffmann (entering with sombre voice).
Good day, friends.
Nicklausse.
Good-day.
Hoffmann.
A chair, a glass,
A pipe...
Nicklausse (mocking).
Pardon, my lord, without displeasing,
I drink, smoke and sit like you... place for two.
Chorus.
He’s right... place for both of them.
(Hoffmann and Nicklausse sit down, Hoffmann has head in his hands.)
Nicklausse (humming).
Notte a giorno mal dormire...
Hoffmann (brusquely).
Shut up, in devil’s name.
Nicklausse (quietly).
Yes, master.
Hermann (to Hoffmann).
Oh, oh, whence comes this ill temper?
Nathanael (to Hoffmann).
It’s as if one did not know you.
Hermann.
On what thorn have you trod?
Hoffmann.
Alas, on a dead herb
With the iced breath of the north.
Nicklausse.
And there by this door,
On a drunkard who sleeps.
Hoffmann.
’Tis true... that rascal, by Jove, I envy him.
A drink. Like him, let’s sleep in the gutter.
Hermann.
Without pillow.
Hoffmann.
The flags.
Nathanael.
Without curtains.
Hoffmann.
The sky.
Nathanael.
The rain.
Hermann.
Have you a nightmare, Hoffmann?
Hoffmann.
No, but to-night,
A while since, at the play...
All.
Well?
Hoffmann.
I thought to see again...
The deuce... why reopen old wounds?
Life is short. Enjoy it while we can.
We must drink, sing, laugh, as we may,
Left to weep to-morrow!
Nathanael.
Then sing the first without asking,
We’ll do chorus.
Hoffmann.
Agreed!
Nathanael.
Something gay.
Hermann.
The song of the Rat!
Nathanael.
No, for me, I’m tired of it.
What we want is the legend
Of Klein-Zach...
All.
’Tis the legand of Klein-Zach.
Hoffmann.
Here goes for Klein-Zach!...
Once at the court of Eysenach
A little dwarf called Klein-Zach,
Was covered o’er with a colbac,
And his legs they went clic, clac!
Clic, clac.
There’s Klein-Zach.
Chorus.
Crick, crack,
There’s Klein-Zach.
Hoffmann.
He had a hump in place of stomach,
His webbed feet seemed to burst a sack,
His nose was with tobacco black.
And his head it went crick crack,
Crick, crack.
There’s Klein-Zach.
Chorus.
Crick, crack,
There’s Klein-Zach.
Hoffmann.
As for the features on his face.
(He becomes absorbed.)
Chorus.
As for the features on his face.
Hoffmann (very slowly).
As for the features...
(He rises.)
Oh, her face was charming... I see it,
Fine as the day, running after her,
I, like a fool, left the house paternal,
And fled there’on to woods and vales
Her hair, in sombre rolls,
On her neck threw warm shades,
Her eyes of enveloping azure,
Cast about glances fresh and pure.
And as our car without shock or tremor
Carried our loves and hearts, her vibrant voice and sweet,
To the heav’ns that listened, threw the conq’ring cry,
And the eternal echo resounded in my heart.
Nathanael.
Oh strangest brain!
Who are you painting! Klein-Zach?
Hoffmann.
I speak of her...
Nathanael.
Who?
Hoffmann.
Nobody... nothing, my spirit is dullish.
Nothing. Klein-Zach is better, malformed as he is!
Chorus.
Flick, flack,
There’s Klein-Zach.
Hoffmann (throwing away his glass).
Peuh!... this beer is detestable,
Let’s light up the punch and drink;
And may the light-headed
Roll under the table.
Chorus.
And may the light headed
Roll under the table.
Chorus.
(The lights go out, Luther fires an immense punch bowl.)
Luther is a brave man,
Tire la laire,
Tire lan la.
’Tis to-morrow that we poison him,
Tire lan laire,
Tire lan la.
His cellar is a goodly spot,
Tire lan laire.
’Tis to-morrow we will make it hot,
Tire lan laire,
Tire lan la.
Nicklausse.
Very good, indeed. At least we are pruned
With reason and practical sense!
Away with languorous hearts.
Nathanael.
Let’s wager that Hoffmann’s in love.
Hoffmann.
What then?
Nathanael.
You need not blush, I imagine
Our friend Wilhelm who’s there,
Burns for Leonor and finds her divine.
Hermann loves Gretchen and I am near ruined
For the Fausta.
Hoffmann (to Wilhelm).
Yes, Leonor, thy virtuose.
(To Hermann.)
Yes, Gretchen, thy doll inert, of icy heart.
(to Nathanael.)
And thy Fausta, poor insensate,
The courtezan with front of brass.
Nathanael.
Morose spirit,
Many thanks for Fausta, Gretchen and Leonore!...
Hoffmann.
Pish. They are all alike.
Nathanael.
Then your mistress is such a treasure
That you despise so much our own?
Hoffmann.
My mistress, no, no, say rather three
Charming trio of enchantresses.
Who are dividing my days.
Would you like the story of my crazy loves?...
Chorus.
Yes, yes!
Nicklausse.
What are you saying of three mistresses?
Hoffmann.
Smoke!...
Before this dead pipe is relighted
You will have comprehended,
You who in this play where my heart was consumed
In good sense took the first prize!
(All the students go to their places.)
Chorus.
Listen. It is nice to drink,
To the telling of a crazy tale,
While following the fragrant cloud,
That a pipe throws in the air.
Hoffmann (sitting on corner of table).
I begin.
Chorus.
Silence.
Hoffmann.
The name of the first was Olympia...
(The curtain falls as Hoffmann is speaking.)
Act II.
(A physicians room, richly furnished.)
Hoffman (alone).
Come! Courage and confidence;
I become a well of science.
I must turn with the wind that blows,
To deserve the one I love.
I shall know how to find in myself
The stuff of a learned man.
She is there... if I dared.
(He softly lifts the portiere.)
’Tis she!
She sleeps... how beautiful!
Ah! together live... both in the same hope,
The same remembrance
Divide our happiness and our sorrow,
And share the future.
Let, let my flame
Pour in thee the light,
Let your soul but open
To the rays of Love.
Divine hearth! Sun whose ardor penetrates
And comes to kiss us.
Ineffable desire where one’s whole being
Melts in a single kiss.
Let, let my flame,
etc., etc.
(Nicklausse appears.)
Nicklausse.
By Jove, I felt sure you’d be here.
Hoffman (letting portiere fall).
Chut.
Nicklausse.
Why? ’tis there that breathes
The dove who’s now your amorous care,
The beautiful Olympia? Go, my child, admire!
Hoffman.
Yes, I adore her!
Nicklausse.
Want to know her better.
Hoffman.
The soul one loves is easy to know.
Nicklausse.
What? by a look... through a window?
Hoffman.
A look is enough to embrace the heavens.
Nicklausse.
What warmth!... At least she knows that you love her.
Hoffman.
No.
Nicklausse.
Write her.
Hoffman.
I don’t dare.
Nicklausse.
Poor lamb! Speak to her.
Hoffman.
The dangers are the same.
Nicklausse.
Then sing, to get out of the scrape.
Hoffman.
Monsieur Spalanzani doesn’t like music.
Nicklausse (laughing).
Yes, I know, all for physics!
A doll with china eyes
Nearby a little cock in brass;
Both sang in unison
In a marvelous way,
Danced, gossiped, seemed to live.
Hoffman.
Beg your pardon. Why this song?
Nicklausse.
The little cock shining and smart,
With a very knowing air,
Three times on himself turned;
By some ingenious wheels,
The doll in rolling its eyes
Sighed and said: “I love you.”
Chorus of the Invited Guests.
No, no host, really,
Receives more richly
Through good taste his house shines;
Everything here matches.
No, no host really
Receives more richly.
Spalanzani.
You will be satisfied, gentlemen, in a moment.
(He makes sign to Cochenille to follow him and exits with him.)
Nicklausse (to Hoffman).
At last we shall more nearly see this marvel
Without equal!
Hoffman.
Silence... she is here!
(Enter Spalanzani conducting Olympia.)
Spalanzani.
Ladies and gentlemen,
I present to you
My daughter Olympia.
The Chorus.
Charming.
She has beautiful eyes!
Her shape is very good!
See how well apparelled!
Nothing is wanting!
She does very well!
Hoffman.
Ah, how adorable she is!
Nicklausse.
Charming, incomparable!
Spalanzani (to Olympia).
What a success is thine!
Nicklausse (taking her all in).
Really she does very well.
The Chorus.
She has beautiful eyes,
Her shape is very good,
See how well apparelled,
Nothing is really wanting;
She does very well.
Spalanzani.
Ladies and gentlemen, proud of your applause,
And above all anxious
