The musical apprehension of the contrasts contained in the words is remarkably humorous and graceful, and especially the point to which the whole tends. "O qui non cè peri-colo" is as charmingly roguish as anything in "Figaro." Chichibio's comic air (3) is in the genuine style of Italian buffo, and consists of a rapid parlando; after the direction to close with the ritornello it acquires some originality of colour from the instrumentation. In the shorter of the two duets between Auretta and Chichibio, the orchestra was also intended to play a prominent part. The first duet (1), however, is more important and more broadly designed; Auretta provokes Chichibio's jealousy in the traditional manner, and then seeks to appease it. The whole piece, with its shifting humours, is lively and amusing, and the subject—[See Page Image]
carried out by the orchestra and toyed with by the voice-parts, is of a mingled grace and intensity truly worthy of Mozart. Then there are sketches of two great ensembles. The quartet (6) in which the lovers converse from afar has less of a buffo character and more true feeling; the two pairs of lovers are clearly distinguished, and their characteristics sharply defined. The finale (7), on the other hand, is altogether in the liveliest buffo tone. At the beginning the lovers are full of eagerness and hope at the building of the bridge, then follows the excitement of suspense, and when Don Pippo actually appears a general tumult breaks out. It does not lie in the nature of this situation to make the same display of rich variety, nor of the dignity of deep emotion, which we admire so much in other finales; it is calculated rather to excite wonder at the long continuation of spirited movement and ascending climax. In the last presto, especially, this is quite extraordinary; here the chorus (contrary to custom in comic opera) is independent and full of effect, yielding to no later work of the same kind. A proof of the figure Don Pippo is intended to cut is given in this LO SPOSO DELUSO, 1784. finale. The short andante maestoso, "Io sono offeso! La mia eccellenza, la prepotenza soffrir non de," indicates a grand buffo part such as never occurs in any other opera. We have, it is true, but a weak and shadowy outline of all these movements. Let the experiment be made of imagining corresponding numbers of "Figaro" and "Don Giovanni" deprived of all their orchestral parts except the bass, and a few bars to suggest the different motifs, and how much weaker and more colourless will be the image that remains! So, also, we can scarcely arrive at even an approximate idea of the life which Mozart would have thrown into these sketches when he came to work them out in all their detail and brilliancy of colouring. They betray, in common with all the works of this period, the firm touch of a master, and possess a singular interest to the student, even in their incomplete form. Who can say that Mozart, if he had finished the opera, would not have succeeded in overcoming the weaker points of the libretto? And yet he scarcely seems to have hoped as much himself, seeing that he finally laid aside the work, begun with so much eagerness and carried on so far. But he was far from abandoning his design, and seeing no immediate prospect of a new libretto, he selected from among the numerous books which he had collected one that he might at least hope to see put on the stage. This was "Lo Sposo Deluso" ("Der gefoppte Brautigam"), probably the same opera which was produced at Padua in the winter of 1787, with music by Cav. Pado. 29 That it was a libretto which had already been made use of follows from the fact that Mozart made some corrections from the original of inaccuracies as to names committed by the ignorant Italian copyist. It is not necessary for the comprehension of the portions composed by Mozart (430 K.) to transcribe the whole of the complicated contents of the book; the list of characters, with the names of the singers to whom Mozart alloted the various parts, will suffice to show the drift of the plot.
The dramatis personæ, then, are as follows:—[See Page Image]
The time at which Mozart was at work on this libretto falls within that during which Nancy Storace performed as Signora Fischer. She had been induced to marry an English violinist, a Dr. Fisher, at Vienna, who ill-treated her, and was thereupon sent out of the country by the Emperor. This was in the year 1784, 30 and as Nancy Storace never afterwards bore the name of her husband, she could only have been so described by Mozart shortly after her marriage. As the opera begins, Bocconio, awaiting his bride, is discovered giving the finishing touches to his toilet; his friend Pulcherio, the woman-hater, is present, and jeers at him; so do Don Asdrubale and Bettina, who declares that if her uncle does not provide her with a husband without delay, she will give him and his wife no peace. While he is defending himself, the arrival of the bride is announced; the confusion increases, for he is not yet ready, and the others all torment him the more. Mozart has connected this quartet with the overture, which leads into the first scene without a break. We have a merry flourish of trumpets and drums, taken up by the whole orchestra, and at once we are in the midst of wedding festivities and joyous excitement. The plan of the LO SPOSO DELUSO, 1784. overture, though without any actual allusion, reminds us of that to "Figaro," but falls short of it in spirit and refinement. The merriment is interrupted by a tender andante 3-8, in which strings and wind instruments alternate, prefiguring the amorous emotions which are to have a place in the drama. The flourish is heard again, the curtain rises, and the andante is repeated in its main points, the instrumental movement serving as a foundation for the free motion of the voices. The different points are more sharply accented, and the hearer's enjoyment is intensified by the richer and more brilliant working out of the movement, which shows itself, as it were, in an altogether new light. The ensemble is inspired with cheerful humour, full of dramatic life, and showing distinctly Mozart's own art of giving independence and freedom to the voices and orchestra, as members of one perfect whole. The draft is worked out somewhat beyond the first design, the stringed instruments being almost written in full, and the principal entrances of the wind instruments at least indicated. We are thus enabled to form a sufficient idea of the movement, which, had it been completed, would have been so brilliant an introduction to the opera. Two airs are preserved in the customary sketch form—voices and bass entire, and detached indications for the violin. In the soprano air (3), however, the outline is so characteristic that but a small effort of imagination suffices to endow it with the effect of full instrumentation. The caricatured haughtiness of the Roman lady Eugenia is shown in the very first words:—
The contrast between pomposity and volubility is given at once; the object is to balance one with the other, so that they may appear natural displays of a consistent character.
The moderation of tone thus obtained is all the more necessary from the character being a female one, since a woman cannot be caricatured to the point of being revolting, as a man can, without injury to the comic effect.
Caricature, which emphasises certain characteristic features of an individual at the cost of others less striking must always be an objectionable mode of musical representation. The external features which can be exaggerated by the musician are limited and soon exhausted, the exaggeration of emotional expression to produce a comic effect is a very dangerous device, because music does not possess the resources which enable poetry and the formative arts to represent disproportions of caricature as amusing and comical rather than distorted and hideous. Mozart takes as the foundation for his musical representation a genuine pride, which is only led by chance impulses to express itself in an exaggerated and distorted manner, and it is this temporary self-contradiction which produces the comic effect. The musical device he employs for the purpose is the composition of the air in the traditional heroic form of opera seria, which is opposed to the situation of the moment as well as to the fault-finding words. The compass and employment of the voice show that Mozart had Storace in view, for whom he afterwards composed Susanna. Pulcherio's second air (4) is much more sketchily delineated. Eugenia and Bocconio, after their first meeting, are not on very good terms with each other, and the obliging friend seeks to reconcile them; he draws Bocconio's attention to Eugenia's beauty, and hers to Bocconio's amiability, and as he goes first to one and then to the other with his appeals, he pictures to himself the misery which is sure to follow the union of the two. The contrasting motifs to which the situation gives rise are arranged in animated alternation. The sketch, however, shows only the general design; and the share taken in it by the orchestra, doubtless a very important one, cannot be even approximately arrived at. A terzet (5 cf., Vol. II., p. 424) between Eugenia, Don Asdrubale and Bocconio is completely worked out, and causes regret that it was not inserted in a later opera, that so we might have heard it from the stage. Don Asdrubale coming to greet Bocconio's bride, the lovers in amazement recognise each other. Eugenia, who had been informed of Don Asdrubale's death in battle, falls half-swooning on a couch, and Bocconio hastens off to fetch LO SPOSO DELUSO, 1784. restoratives. Asdrubale, who is on the way to Rome that he may wed Eugenia, overwhelms her with reproaches, and throws himself on a couch in despair. Eugenia has risen, and before Asdrubale can explain himself, Bocconio returns, and to his astonishment finds the scene completely altered. At this point the terzet begins, and expresses most charmingly the confusion and embarrassment of the three personages, who are all in the dark as to each other's conduct, and who put restraint on themselves even in their extremity of suspense. The orchestra carries on the threads independently, joined by the voices, sometimes apart and interrupted, to suit the situation, sometimes together. An excellent effect is given by the sharply accented expression of involuntary painful emotion contrasting with the reserve which otherwise prevails in the terzet. The whole tone of the piece is masterly; while never overstepping the limits of comic opera, it successfully renders the deep agitation of mind of all the three characters. This is contrived, not by the mixture of a comic element in the person of Bocconio, who rather approximates to the frame of mind of the other two, but by the cheerful tone which penetrates the whole without any loss of truth of expression.
This opera again stopped short of completion, and a third seems to have had the same fate. A terzet for male voices, which is preserved in duplicate draft, was intended for the first scene of a comic opera. An opera by Accoromboni, "Il Regno delle Amazoni," was, according to Fétis, performed at Parma in 1782, as well as elsewhere, 31 with success, and the words of the terzet leave little doubt that this, too, was among the "little books" Mozart had looked through, and that it suggested to him an experiment which must almost have coincided in point of time with the two just mentioned. It can scarcely have been the imperfections of the libretti alone which caused Mozart to leave these operas unfinished, but also the improbability of ever bringing them to performance. The brilliant reception accorded to the Italian maestri, Sarti and Paesiello, in Vienna, only caused MOZART AS AN OPERA COMPOSER. the German masters to fall more into the background. The extraordinary success of Paesiello and Casti with "Il Re Teodoro'' (Vol. II., p. 344), alarmed even Salieri. He had himself begun an opera, "Il Ricco d' un Giorno," but laid it aside rather than enter into competition with the "Re Teodoro." He was always skilful in turning circumstances to account. When his "Rauchfangkehrer" failed in 1781, and Mozart's "Entführung" was rousing great expectations, he received in the nick of time a commission from Munich to write the opera "Semiramide," which was performed during the Carnival. 32 He then set out, recommended and patronised by Gluck, to produce "Les Danaides" in Paris. Crowned with new laurels, by reason of the success which it there met with, he returned to Vienna and completed his opera, after the first enthusiasm for his rivals had died out. It was given on December 6, 1784, but without success. 33 Mozart's prospects for the year 1785 were not any more favourable, when suddenly help appeared from an unexpected quarter.
Lorenzo da Ponte (1749-1838), 34 a native of Ceneda, was exiled from the republic of Venice, where he had been schoolmaster, on account of his opinions and manner of life. After a short stay in Gorz and Dresden, he came to Vienna, warmly recommended to Salieri by the poet Mazzola, just as the Italian opera was in process of being established. Through Salieri's influence he was appointed a theatrical poet by Joseph II., who continued to befriend him; he had thus every reason to be beholden to Salieri. His first attempt was this opera, "Il Ricco d' un Giorno," which he did not himself consider a success; Salieri ascribed its failure, which he felt the more keenly in contrast to Paesiello's success, solely and entirely to the poet, and swore that he would sooner cut off his hand than set to music another word of Da Ponte's. He had no difficulty in obtaining a libretto CASTI—DA PONTE. from Casti, "La Grotta di Trofonio"; and this opera, which was first given on October 12, 1785, was a great success. 35 Da Ponte now saw himself threatened in his position, for Casti was his declared rival and opponent.
Casti had long been famous as a witty and gallant verse-maker; he was acquainted with the most influential men of the day, and was ambitious of succeeding Metastasio as poeta Cesareo. The rise of Da Ponte, who had to some extent taken Metastasio's place in the theatre, would be altogether against his interests; he sought therefore both by praise and blame to bring his rival into discredit, and ridiculed him personally in his operetta, "Prima la Musica" (Vol. III., p. 47). Casti carried his vanity and self-complacency to such a pitch that Kelly mimicked him on the stage in his own opera ("Demo-gorgone"), to the intense delight of the public. 36 It was plainly Da Ponte's interest to gain the favour of composers who might do credit to his operatic libretti.
Vincent Martin (1754-1810), born in Valencia, and therefore called "Lo Spagnuolo," had produced some operas in Italy with success since 1781; Storace had made a furore in one of them at Venice. 37 This caused him to repair to Vienna in 1784, where the wife of the Spanish Ambassador took him under her powerful protection. At the command of the Emperor Da Ponte adapted for him the opera, "Il Burbero di Buon Core," after Goldoni's comedy, which was performed for the first time on January 4, 1786, with complete success; but his next operas, "Il Finto Cieco," composed by Gazzaniga, and "Il Demogorgone," composed by Righini, were not particularly successful. Not satisfied with these composers, he cast his eyes on Mozart, to whom he had promised a libretto as early as 1783. Da Ponte positively affirms 38 that it was owing to his readiness and decision that Mozart was enabled to place his masterpiece on the stage in defiance of all the cabals and intrigues of his enemies; and he expresses the MOZART AS AN OPERA COMPOSER. hope that an impartial and truthful account of the affair will make this evident. We shall therefore follow his account, but shall correct and modify it in its details by means of other available information. 39
Baron Wezlar, a great lover of music, in whose house Mozart had lived for a time (Vol. II., p. 304), had brought about the acquaintance between the latter and Da Ponte, and proved himself a munificent patron on the occasion. On Mozart's expressing anxiety lest an opera composed by him should not be allowed to appear, Wezlar engaged to pay the librettist a suitable fee, and to bring about the performance of the opera in London or Paris if the obstacles in Vienna proved insurmountable. Confiding in the favour and discernment of the Emperor, Da Ponte declined this offer. In discussing a suitable subject Mozart expressed the wish that Da Ponte would adapt Beaumarchais' comedy, "Le Mariage de Figaro," which, after a prolonged struggle, had been given for the first time on April 27, 1784, and was now occupying public attention. The adaptation would be an easy matter, but the Emperor had forbidden the production of the piece at the National Theatre on account of its freedom of tone. Da Ponte, however, hoped to overcome this difficulty; he agreed with Mozart to keep.the undertaking a secret. They set to work, Da Ponte writing the libretto, and Mozart composing it gradually as he received it: in six weeks the whole was finished. Fortunately there was a dearth of new operas at the time. Da Ponte, without consulting any one, went straight to the Emperor, and told him what had happened. The Emperor had misgivings both as to Mozart, who, though an excellent instrumental composer, had written an opera which was no great success ("non era gran cosa"), and as to the piece which he had already suppressed. Da Ponte declared that he would be answerable for Mozart as well as for the piece, which he had adapted in such a manner as to be perfectly fit for representation. The Emperor gave way, summoned Mozart before him with the score, and after ADAPTATION OF "FIGARO," 1785. hearing some portions of it, commanded that it should be performed and put into rehearsal at once. This caused much displeasure to Mozart's opponents, Casti and Count Rosenberg, "a sworn enemy of the Germans, who would listen to nothing that was not Italian," 40 and who made as many difficulties as he could. Da Ponte relates one instance of the kind. The manager, Bussani (the singer who was cast for the part of Bartolo), told Count Rosenberg that in the third act of "Figaro," during the wedding festivities, while Susanna is conveying the letter to the Count, a ballet was to be introduced. Rosenberg sent for the poet, reminded him that the Emperor would not allow a ballet, and turning a deaf ear to his remonstrances, tore the scene out of the book. Mozart was furious; wanted to call the Count to answer, to horsewhip Bussani, to appeal to the Emperor, to take back the score—in short, he could with difficulty be pacified. At the full rehearsal the Emperor was present. In obedience to Rosenberg's order the ballet was omitted, and in dead silence Susanna and the Count made their now meaningless gestures. The Emperor, in amazement, asked what it all meant, and on Da Ponte's explanation of the affair, ordered a proper ballet to be at once arranged. This story, although Da Ponte may have exaggerated the importance of his own share in it, doubtless gives a fair idea on the whole of the circumstances under which Mozart's "Figaro" was produced. Kelly's assertion that Mozart was commissioned by the Emperor to write an opera, and selected "Figaro," accords very well with Da Ponte's account. Mozart began his work in the autumn of 1785, as we learn from a letter of his father's to Marianne (November 11, 1785):—
At last, after six weeks' silence, I have received a letter from your brother of November 2, containing quite twelve lines. His excuse for not writing is that he has been over head and ears at work on his opera,
"Le Nozze di Figaro." He has put off all his pupils to the afternoon, so that he may have his mornings free. I have no fear as to the music; MOZART AS AN OPERA COMPOSER. but there will no doubt be much discussion and annoyance before he can get the libretto arranged to his wish; and having procrastinated and let the time slip after his usual fashion, he is obliged now to set to work in earnest, because Count Rosenberg insists upon it.
This contradicts Da Ponte's account of the secrecy with which the opera was prepared; and it may be doubted also whether it was really written in six weeks. The date in Mozarts own catalogue,-April 29, 1786, only proves that he closed his work by writing the overture immediately before the first performance (May 1). 41 Da Ponte may have exaggerated somewhat tor the sake of effect. Mozart's Thematic Catalogue shows what he was capable of accomplishing even while at work upon "Figaro." There is a hiatus in the catalogue from July 5, 1785, to November 5. It is possible that he was busy with the opera during this interval; but during the time immediately following, when he was working at it in real earnest, we find the following compositions entered:—
1785. November 5. Quartet to the "Villanella Rapita" (Vol. II., p. 331).
November 21. Terzet I (479, 480 K.).
December 12. Sonata for piano and violin in E flat major (481 K.).
December 16. Pianoforte concerto in E flat major (482 K.).
1786. January 10. Pianoforte rondo in D major (485 K.).
January 18. Terzet from the "Schauspieldirector."
February 3. "Schauspieldirector" (486 K.).
March 2. Pianoforte concerto in A major (488 K.).
March 10. Duet and air for the private performance of "Ido-meneo" (489, 490 K.).
March 24. Pianoforte concerto in C minor (491 K.).
April 29. "Le Nozze di Figaro" (492 K.).
To these may be added the Lent Concerts, which were also then occupying him. There were other difficulties to be overcome before the performance, of which we hear nothing from Da Ponte, but which are related by Kelly:—
There were three operas now on the tapis, one by Righini ("ü Demo-gorgone"), another by Salieri ("La Grotta di Trofonio"), and one INTRIGUES AGAINST "FIGARO." by Mozart, by special command of the Emperor. Mozart chose to have Beaumarchais' French comedy, "Le Mariage de Figaro," made into an Italian opera, which was done with great ability by Da Ponte. These three pieces were nearly ready for representation at the same time, and each composer claimed the right of producing his opera for the first. The contest raised much discord, and parties were formed. The characters of the three men were all very different. Mozart was as touchy as gunpowder, and swore that he would put the score of his opera into the fire if it was not produced first; his claim was backed by a strong party. Righini, on the contrary, was working like a mole in the dark to get precedence. The third candidate was Maestro di Capella to the court, a clever, shrewd man, possessed of what Bacon called "crooked wisdom"; and his claims were backed by three of the principal performers, who formed a cabal not easily put down. Every one of the opera company took part in the contest. I alone was a stickler for Mozart, and naturally enough, for he had a claim on my warmest wishes, from my adoration of his powerful genius and the debt of gratitude I owed him for many personal favours. The mighty contest was put an end to by his majesty issuing a mandate for Mozart's "Nozze di Figaro" to be instantly put into rehearsal.
A slight error has crept in here, for Salieri's opera was given first on October 12, 1785; but this account confirms the fact of the Emperor's interference. Mozart's claims were supported by the distinguished company of amateurs who arranged a representation of "Idomeneo" at the Auersperg Theatre in March (Vol. II., p. 289). The fact that his friends Count Hatzfeld (Vol. II., p. 291) and Bridi (Vol. II., p. 359) took his part in the dispute shows that it was intended to put Mozart forward as a composer of Italian operas, and that powerful support was considered necessary for the purpose. His father had cause therefore to write to his daughter (April 18):—
On the 28th, "Le Nozze di Figaro" is to be put on the stage for the first time. It will mean much if it succeeds, for I know that there has been a surprisingly strong cabal against it. Salieri and all his adherents will move heaven and earth against it. Duschek told me lately 42 that my son met with such violent opposition because of his extraordinary talent and cleverness.
Niemetschek (p. 37) goes so far as to assert that it was commonly reported that the Italian singers did all they could to ruin the opera on its first performance by intentional mistakes and carelessness, and that they had to be sternly reminded of their duty by the Emperor, to whom Mozart appealed in despair at the end of the first act. Kelly says nothing of this; he maintains, on the contrary, that never was opera so strongly cast, and that all the subsequent performances he had seen were no more to be compared to the original one than light is to darkness: 43 —
All the original performers had the advantage of the instruction of the composer, who transfused into their minds his inspired meaning. I never shall forget his little animated countenance, when lighted up with the glowing rays of genius; it is as impossible to describe it as it would be to paint sunbeams. I remember at the first rehearsal of the full band Mozart was on the stage with his crimson pelisse and gold-laced cocked hat, giving the time of the music to the orchestra. Figaro's song "Non più andrai" Benucci gave with the greatest animation and power of voice. I was standing close to Mozart, who, (sotto voce), was repeating: "Bravo! bravo, Benucci!" and when Benucci came to the fine passage, "Cherubino, alla vittoria, alia gloria militar!" which he gave out with stentorian lungs, the effect was electricity itself, for the whole of the performers on the stage, and those in the orchestra, as if actuated by one feeling of delight, vociferated: "Bravo! bravo, maestro! viva, viva, grande Mozart!" Those in the orchestra I thought would never have ceased applauding, by beating the bows of their violins against the music-desks. The little man acknowledged by repeated obeisances his thanks for the distinguished mark of enthusiastic applause bestowed upon him.
The following was the cast of the first performance, according to Mozart's Thematic Catalogue—the original libretto is unfortunately lost: 44 —[See page images]
The reception of the opera by the public on its first performance (May 1, 1786) was such as to justify the most favourable anticipations. 45 "Never was anything more complete," says Kelly, "than the triumph of Mozart and his 'Nozze di Figaro.'" The house was crowded, and many pieces were encored, so that the opera lasted twice the usual time; but that did not prevent long-continued applause and repeated calls for Mozart at the close of the performance. L. Mozart wrote to his daughter on May 18: "At the second performance of your brother's opera (May 3) five pieces were encored, and on the third (May 8) seven; one little duet had to be sung three times." 46 The opera, therefore, was a decided success; too much so, indeed, for many people, and the Emperor was persuaded, after the first performance, to forbid any piece to be encored, under the pretence of sparing the singers and the conductor. Kelly narrates how the Emperor, after issuing this prohibition, addressing himself at a rehearsal to Storace, Mandini, and Benucci, said: 47 "I LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. dare say you are all pleased that I put a stop to encores; it must be fatiguing and distressing to you to repeat so many songs." Storace replied: "It is indeed, sire, very distressing." The other two bowed, as if in assent; but Kelly, who was standing by, said boldly to the Emperor: "Do not believe them, sire, they all like to be encored; at least I am sure I always do"; whereupon the Emperor laughed. Mozart's enemies found it impossible to drive the opera completely from the stage, but they took care that it should not be given often enough to take firm hold of the public favour. Nevertheless, it reached nine performances within the year, though with long intervals between them (May 1, 3, 8, 24, July 4, August 28, September 22, November 15, December 18). On November 17 Martin's "Cosa Rara" (after so strong an opposition on the part of the singers, that the Emperor was obliged to compel them to sing) 48 achieved an unprecedented success. This threw "Figaro" somewhat into the shade, both in the public estimation and in the Emperor's opinion; the latter told Dittersdorf that Mozart overweighted the singers with his full accompaniments; 49 Martin's easy and taking melodies were far more to the royal taste. During 1787 and 1788 "Figaro" was not given at all in Vienna, 50 and was not reproduced until August 29, 1789.
THE choice of Beaumarchais' comedy "Le Mariage de Figaro, ou La Folle Journée," as a subject for operatic treatment, was deliberately made by Mozart himself. 1 The LE MARIAGE DE FIGARO. play had excited unusual interest, both on account of the name and political position of the author and of the curious circumstances under which it had been produced in Paris. Beaumarchais had offered his comedy, towards the end of 1781, to the Théätre-Français, where it was readily accepted. But rumours prejudicial to the piece led Louis XVI. to have it read aloud in his presence; he was horrified at its freedom of tone, and declared that he would never consent to its performance. This only served to stimulate curiosity, and people thronged to hear the reading of the manuscript; a strong court party interested themselves for its production, the actors pressed for it, the public insisted upon it. Beaumarchais knew well how to turn all these circumstances to account; in June, 1783, his comedy was on the point of performance at the court theatre; the audience was actually assembled, when, just as the curtain was about to rise, a fresh prohibition arrived, from the King. Complaints of tyranny and oppression now became audible, and the affair assumed a political aspect. At length the King was prevailed upon to countenance a private representation at a festival given by M. de Vaudreuil to the Comte d'Artois in September, 1783. Beaumarchais contrived that this should lead to a public performance, which took place in April, 1784. 2 The unheard-of success of the play caused its reputation to spread rapidly, and Mozart's attention could not fail to be attracted to it, the more so as Paesiello's "Barbiere di Seviglia," founded on Beaumarchais' earlier comedy, had been well received in Vienna. Mozart's search for a suitable libretto among the Italian ones already published, and his attempt to produce a new one with. Varesco, were equally unsuccessful. The accepted form of opera buffa, relying for effect solely on broadly comic situations and caricature, did not satisfy Mozart's conditions of dramatic reality in the development of an interesting plot and a consistent delineation of character. Both conditions were amply fulfilled by Beaumarchais. "Le Nozze di Figaro" is well known to be in a certain sort a continuation of the "Barbiere di Seviglia."
The majority of the characters appear in both pieces, events belonging to the plot of "Figaro" are grounded on the previous play, and it is necessary for a proper appreciation of the motives and characterisation to bear the connection of the two in mind:—
Count Almaviva having, with Figaro's help, gained the hand of Rosina, the charming ward of Doctor Bartolo, takes Figaro and Marcellina, Rosina's duenna, into his service, and retires to his castle, attended also by Basilio, the music-master. He soon wearies of his wife's society, and seeks distraction in the company of Susanna, the Countess's maid and Figaro's affianced bride. Basilio is again made to act the part of a go-between. The piece begins on the day appointed for Figaro's wedding. Figaro, having learnt the Count's designs from Susanna, determines to outwit his master, and to prevent the success of his scheme for delaying the wedding. In this scheme the Count is offered assistance by Marcellina, who is in love with Figaro, and possesses his written undertaking to marry her should he fail in repaying her by a certain day a sum of money she has lent him. Her dread of losing all chance of Figaro, by his union with Susanna, induces her to call Bartolo to her assistance, and the latter is the more ready to do what he can, both that he may revenge himself on Figaro, and free himself from Marcellina's claims upon him. It appears that years ago she bore him a son, who was kidnapped as a child. While this danger is hanging over the heads of the lovers, Susanna is sought in her room by the page Cherubino, a heedless and beautiful youth, just budding into manhood. The Count has surprised him with Fanchette, daughter of his gardener Antonio, with whom he is himself flirting, and has discharged him from his service; he begs Susanna to intercede for him with the Countess, his godmother, for whom he entertains an ardent passion. As they converse, they hear the Count approaching, and Cherubino hides behind a large arm-chair; the Count has come to offer Susanna a dowry if she will consent to meet him the same evening; she, however, vigorously repulses him. Basilio enters: the Count hides behind the same arm-chair, and Cherubino slips round to the front, and covers himself with a cloak which lies upon the chair. Basilio reiterates to Susanna the Count's proposals, and, on her continued refusal, makes malicious allusions to the page, who is paying court not only to Susanna, but to the Countess. The Count comes forward in a fury, orders the immediate dismissal of the page, tells how he found him concealed in the gardener's house, and discovers him in the arm-chair. But Cherubino has been a witness to all that has passed, and, in order to conciliate and get rid of him at the same time, the Count gives him a commission in his regiment, ordering his immediate departure for Seville, to join the garrison there. At this point Figaro enters at the head of the villagers in holiday attire. The Count, at his marriage, had BEAUMARCHAIS' FIGARO. renounced his seignorial rights, and, instigated by Figaro, his grateful subjects come to petition him to honour the first wedding which has since been celebrated by himself placing the wreath on the head of the bride. The Count cannot refuse the petition, but begs for a few hours delay, in order that the ceremony may be rendered more brilliant. Figaro in the meantime is plotting a double intrigue against the Count, with the co-operation of the Countess, who has been kept informed of all that is going on by her devoted Susanna. Her relations to Figaro and Susanna, and her ready acquiescence in a design to recall her husband to a sense of his duty by means of a trick, keep us in mind that the Countess Almaviva is the Rosina of the "Barber of Seville." She loves her husband, and has a full consciousness of her own dignity; but the circumstances of her early life, and of her marriage with Count Almaviva, have left their indelible impress upon her. Figaro warns the Count, who has gone hunting, by an anonymous letter that a rival has made an assignation with the Countess; he hopes that jealousy will divert his mind from the wedding. On the other side he assures him of Susanna's intention to keep her appointment in the garden; Cherubino, who has been allowed to delay his departure at Figaro's intercession, is to be disguised so as to take Susanna's place at the interview. |The page comes to be dressed; all at once the Count knocks, having hurried home in jealous haste. Cherubino slips into the inner room, of which the Countess locks the door; as the Count is plying her with angry questions Cherubino throws down a chair; the Countess explains that Susanna is within, but refuses to allow her to come out, or even to answer, and will not give up the key. The Count, enraged, secures all means of egress, and drags the Countess away with him to fetch an axe and break the door open. Susanna, who has been concealed in an alcove during this scene, proceeds to liberate Cherubino; he, finding no other exit available, springs through the window into the garden, and Susanna takes his place in the cabinet. The Count returning with the Countess, determined to employ force in opening the door, she confesses that the page is in the inner chamber, whereby his rage is still further excited; to the astonishment of them both Susanna steps forth. The Countess soon collects herself, and explains that their only intention has been to punish him for his want of faith, and that Figaro wrote the letter as a preliminary to the trick; the Count is forced to sue for pardon, which he obtains with difficulty. Figaro now enters with the information that all is prepared for the wedding, and being taxed by the Count with the letter, denies all knowledge of it, and is with difficulty brought to understand the position of affairs. This danger is hardly over when the gardener enters, half tipsy, with the complaint that some one has just jumped from the window of the cabinet upon his flowers; Figaro declares that he was there with Susanna, and had jumped into the garden from fear of the Count's fury. The gardener says that he thought he had recognised Cherubino, but hands Figaro a paper which LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. had been dropped in the garden. The Count, his suspicions newly awakened, demands the contents of the paper; the Countess recognises in it the page's patent, and whispers through Susanna to Figaro, who is able to ward off this fresh danger. Marcellina now appears supported by Bartolo, and makes known Figaro's promise of marriage; the Count, in high delight, promises to support her claims in a court of justice, and by dismissing Basilio, who puts forward his claims to Marcellina's hand, revenges himself for the letter which Basilio had presented to him.
Before the sitting of the court the Countess conceives the design of herself taking Susanna's place at the rendezvous with the Count. The trial which takes place results in Figaro's being ordered to pay his debt to Marcellina, or in default to marry her. The Count appears at the goal of his wishes, but Figaro's evasion—that he must have the consent of his parents—leads to the discovery that he is the long-lost son of Bartolo and Marcellina, who thereupon decide to celebrate their espousals together with his; Susanna, entering with money obtained from the Countess to redeem Figaro, is indignant at finding him in Marcellina's arms, but her anger is speedily turned to delight at hearing the true position of affairs.
During the solemn wedding ceremony—at which Cherubino, disguised as Fanchette, appears among the village maidens and is recognised—Susanna gives the Count a letter dictated by the Countess, in which she appoints the place of rendezvous; a pin which is stuck into the letter is to be returned as a token of understanding. Figaro sees that the Count reads the letter and pricks himself with the pin, without noticing that Susanna has given it to him; hearing afterwards from Fanchette that she is commissioned by the Count to convey the pin back to Susanna, he easily surmises what it means. Beside himself with jealousy, he stations his parents and friends in the neighbourhood of the appointed place, and repairs thither himself to surprise and punish the guilty pair.
In the darkness of night the Countess and Susanna, having exchanged clothes, come to put their husbands to the proof; Susanna has been warned by Marcellina of Figaro's designs. Scarcely is the Countess alone, when she is alarmed by the approach of Cherubino, who presses a kiss on the supposed Susanna; the Count, entering on the instant, salutes the page with a box on the ear, which is received instead by the listening Figaro. Alone with the Countess, the Count addresses her in the most endearing terms, presents her with money, and with a costly ring, and endeavours to go off with her; she escapes him in the darkness, and he seeks her in vain.
In the meantime Susanna, as the Countess, comes to the enraged Figaro, but forgetting for a moment to disguise her voice, he recognises her, and turns the tables by proposing to her to revenge herself for her lord's want of faith by her own, whereupon she makes herself known by DA PONTE'S LIBRETTO. boxing his ears. Peace is easily restored by his explanation, and as the Count approaches, seeking his Susanna, they continue to counterfeit love. The Count in a rage calls for his people with torches, Figaro's friends hasten in, and with them the Countess. The Count, to his shame, discovers that it was his wife who accepted his presents and declarations of love, and the pardon which she accords to him brings the confusion to an end.
Such is a mere outline of this amusing play of intrigue, where one knot twisting in with another, one embarrassment growing out of another, call forth ever and again fresh contrivances, while an abundance of effective situations and characteristic detail make the witty and satirical dialogue one of the most graphic character pictures of the time. 3 Da Ponte has arranged his libretto with much skill, having no doubt received important aid from Mozart himself. The progress of the piece is left almost unaltered, the necessary abbreviations being judiciously made. 4 Thus, the lengthy trial scene is omitted, and only the result in its bearing on the plot is communicated. Sometimes an under-plot is added, such as Basilio's appearance as Marcellina's lover. The clearness of the plot is not often endangered, as it certainly is by the alteration which omits all mention of a son of Bartolo and Marcellina previous to their recognition of Figaro as their offspring. The musical pieces are introduced with admirable discrimination in such positions as to allow free and natural scope to the musical rendering of each situation without hindering the progress of the plot, and this is no small praise in such a piece as "Figaro." The whole scheme of the drama demands that quite as much attention shall be given to the ensemble movements and finales as LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. the solo airs; and this is of great advantage to the musical construction. The definite and prearranged progress of the action fulfils all the conditions of operatic representation with regard to the position and diversity of the musical pieces; the poetical conceptions are clever and appropriate, a suggestion of Beaumarchais being often amplified in the musical working-out. The French comedy was of wonderful advantage in maintaining the dialogue; and, shortened and modified as it was of necessity, it retained far more of the spirit and life of the original than was usual in the recitatives of opera buffa. This is not indeed the case as far as the German adaptations of the opera are concerned. I am not aware whence proceeded the first translation made use of in Berlin in 1790. 5 In 1791 Knigge adapted the opera for Schroder in Hamburg; 6 in 1792 it was given in Vienna, translated by Gieseke; and in 1794 Vulpius's translation appeared. A new translation, giving not only Da Ponte's verses, but Mozart's improvements on them, is a pressing necessity. The vast superiority of "Le Nozze di Figaro," in characterisation, plot, and dialogue, to the very best of opera buffa libretti may be easily discerned by comparing it with other famous operas, such as Casti's "Re Teodoro" or "Grotta di Trofonio." In many essential points "Figaro" overstepped the limits of opera buffa proper, and brought to view entirely new elements of dramatic construction. The political element indeed, on which perhaps most of the effect of the comedy depended, was altogether omitted from the opera. Not only does the dialogue receive its essential character from the satire and scorn which it freely casts upon the abuses of political and social life—the whole tendency of the play is to depict the nobleman of the period, who, himself without truth and honour, demands both from others, indulges his lust without scruple, and thereby causes his dependents, injured in their moral rights, to turn against him their intellectual superiority, so that he is finally DA PONTE'S LIBRETTO. worsted and disgraced. This conception of the nobility and their position in relation to the citizen class is expressed with energy and malice, and found such a response in the prevailing opinions of the time, that the production of the piece against the expressed will of the King appeared to be a public confirmation of the principles which inspired it; and Napoleon might with justice say of "Figaro": "C'était la révolution déjà en action." 7 Every trace of these feelings has vanished in the opera, as will be clearly perceived by a comparison of the celebrated "Frondeur-monologue" of Figaro in the fifth act with the jealous song in the opera. The omission was made not so much in deference to the Emperor Joseph's scruples as with the right conviction that the political element is altogether out of place in music.
The omission of political satire is the more serious because it leaves as the central point of the plot an immorality which is not exactly justified, but not by any means seriously punished; only treated with a certain frivolity. The noble libertine is opposed by true and upright love, honest devotion to duty and honourable conduct; but these moral qualities are not made in themselves effective; the true levers of the plot are cunning and intrigue employed as weapons of defence. The whole piece appears in a doubtful light, the atmosphere surrounding Count Almaviva is impure, and the suppression of those circumstances which could alone make the phenomenon natural affects more or less the whole spirit of the plot, and deprives the dialogue of much of its point and double meaning.
Beaumarchais might fairly plead that, having undertaken to give a true picture of the manners of his time, absolute truth of conception and detail was necessary to insure the right moral effect; it was for a later age to perceive how completely the author of the satire was himself under the influence of the time which he depicts and would fain improve. This justification is denied to the opera. It has no title to be considered as a picture of morals, neither can it pretend to exercise any direct influence, whether moral or LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. political, on the minds of men. The dialogue is undoubtedly in many respects purer than in the comedy; but the plot and its motives, the chief situations, the whole point of view, become all the more decidedly frivolous. How came it, then the Mozart could choose such a subject for his opera, and that the public could accept it with approbation? It must in the first place be borne in mind that the facts on which the plot is founded, and the point of view from which these facts are regarded, had at that time substantial truth and reality; men were not shocked at seeing on the stage that which they had themselves experienced, and knew to be going on in their own homes. A later age is disgusted by the contrast between semblance and reality, and at the representation of immorality in all its nakedness; the taste of the time demands that it shall be shown after another form and fashion. A glance at the entertaining literature, and even at the operas of the last half of the eighteenth century, shows clearly that representation of immorality plays an important part therein in a form which bespeaks the temper and spirit of the time; and further, that a desire for the representation of moral depravity is an infallible symptom of moral disease. It cannot, therefore, be wondered at that a picture of the moral corruption which penetrated all classes, from the highest to the lowest, and which had brought all social and political relations to the verge of dissolution, should have been regarded with eager approbation and enjoyment. The age which produced and enjoyed "Figaro" took a lighter view of sensual gratification and the moral turpitude connected therewith than that which seems right to a generation grown serious by reason of higher aims and nobler struggles. It need not here be discussed how far manners and opinions which change with the times are to be regarded as absolute morality; the point we are proving is undeniable, and is apparent, often painfully so, in all the light literature and memoirs of the day. Caroline Pichler writes in reference to this very period: 8 —
There prevailed a taste for all that was beautiful and pleasant in Vienna at that time. The mind had freer movement than at present, and anything might be written and printed which was not in the strictest sense of the word contrary to religion and the state. There was not nearly so much stress laid upon good manners. Plays and romances of a tolerably free tendency were admitted and discussed in good society. Kotzebue was very much thought of. His pieces, as well as Gemmingen's "Deutscher Hausvater," Schroder's "Ring," and many others which are sunk in oblivion, together with a number of tales and romances (Meissner's sketches above all) were founded on indecent subjects. They were read without scruple or concealment by all the world, and every young girl.
I myself saw and read them all repeatedly; "Oberon" I knew well, and Meissner's "Alcibiades." No mother felt any scruple at allowing her daughter to become acquainted with such works; and indeed living examples of what we read moved before us with so little concealment of their irregular and immoral doings, that it would not have been possible for any mother to keep her daughter in ignorance on these points.
It is sufficient to refer to the reading of Wieland's works.
What can be more repugnant to our ideas than to find a young girl writing to her lover:—
I hope you will soon get the new "Amadis"; it is the funniest, most whimsical book. I wonder how you will like Olinda! Master Amadis is a little too like butter—he melts in every sunbeam.
Our wonder increases when we reflect that this young girl is Caroline Flachsland, and her lover is Herder. 9 There can be no doubt that in this respect Mozart was a child of his time; that he willingly allowed himself to glide along the pleasant stream of life in Vienna, and that his merrier moods were often productive of free and even coarse jests. The frivolous element in Beaumarchais' comedy was not, therefore, likely to repel him, although it would be unfair to assert that it mainly attracted him; he accepted it, as others did, as the sauce which was most likely to be of acceptable flavour.
His chief concern was doubtless the gradual unfolding and continual interest of the plot, and the graphic delineation of character, qualities which were entirely overlooked by the ordinary opera buffa. Any approach to probability or analogy with actual life was not thought of, and was LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. not often replaced even by a fanciful poetic vein of humour; attempts to give consistency to the caricatures of individuals and situations only served to bring their irreconcilable contrasts into stronger relief. In "Figaro," on the contrary, the interest depends upon, the truth the representation of actual life. The motives of the actors are serious, they are carried out with energy and intellect, and from them the situations are naturally developed; only the light in which they are all portrayed is that of Beaumarchais' strongly accented "gaieté," which is by no means innocent, and in its essence nothing less than musical. It is one of the strongest proofs of Mozart's genius that he should have undertaken, moved as he was by the dramatic signification of the piece, to infuse a new soul into it by his musical treatment; so sure was he that whatever came home to his mind might be used as the germ of a living creation. The musical representation, however, could only be a true one by relying entirely on the emotions which alone are capable of being expressed in music. 10 The whole piece is raised to a higher sphere by the subordination of the powers of understanding and intellect, which Beaumarchais had made the chief factors in his design. Beaumarchais' aim was to preserve his plot and characters from vulgarity or caricature; the point of view whence the musical reconstruction proceeded led inevitably to an ennobling of the whole representation. In depicting emotions, whether as the impulse to action, or as giving significance even to the least commendable promptings of the mind, the musician was in his own element, and the MUSICAL TREATMENT OF THE DRAMA. wealth of dramatic situations and characters was a pure gain to an artist who knew how to turn it to account. The piercing eye of genius finds materials for its finest performance where a more superficial view reveals nothing but difficulties. If each of the characters, pursuing the interests they have at heart, are to express their inner sentiments at every point in conformity with their nature, it follows that the aim of dramatic characterisation in its true sense must be the representation of individuality, sharp and precise in form, true and pure as to its source; thus only will the exaggeration of caricature be avoided. This holds good of all the chief characters in "Figaro"—of the Count and Countess, Figaro, Susanna, and Cherubino. They are so entirely governed by their emotions and passions, so completely involved in the complications proceeding therefrom, that an artistic representation must depend on the depicting of these emotions in their fullest truth.
Bartolo and Marcellina seem to invite a treatment in caricature. In the "Barber of Seville" we find the same Bartolo as a buffo character. This is made impossible here by the fact that they are to appear afterwards as Figaro's parents, and ought not, therefore, to cut grotesque figures in our eyes. Beaumarchais' point, that Marcellina gives herself airs of superiority to Susanna, "parce qu'elle a fait quelques études et tourmenté la jeunesse de Madame" is not available for musical characterisation, but Mozart brings it out skilfully in another way. In the duet (Act I., 5), in which Susanna and Marcellina vie with each other in impertinence and provocation, the expression is toned down by the actual, disputing being left to the orchestra, and the two women are put quite on an equality. Susanna prevails over Marcellina only by reason of her youthful grace, and the whole appears an outbreak of that jealous susceptibility which is said to be an attribute of the female sex. Nobler women would not yield to such impulses, but these two belong to no exalted sphere, and give the rein to their angry humours. But they never forget themselves so far as to offend delicacy, and the general tone is a gay one, Marcellina being shown in no way inferior to LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. Susanna. 11 Afterwards, when graver matters engage her, when she asserts her claims upon Figaro in the first finale, or recognises him as her son in the sestet, the musical expression is sustained and full of true feeling. A singer who was able to form her conception of the part from these touches of character would make of Marcellina something quite different from the ordinary old housekeeper, whom we have unhappily been used to see and hear, no doubt from a mistaken endeavour to render the illusion that Figaro's mother must be an old woman, and sing like an old woman. Marcellina's air (Act IV., 2)," on the other hand, does not assist the characterisation, and is the only piece in the whole opera which fails of its effect. The whole style of it, even to the passages, is old-fashioned, like the traditional air for a seconda donna; it appears to have been a concession made to the taste of the singer. Basilio, the man of cold intellect and malicious cunning, is not a figure which can be made comic by caricature. Mich. Kelly (1764-1825), for whom it was written, was an Irishman, who had studied in Naples, and was highly successful as a tenor in Italy and Vienna; his powers as a mimic fitted him especially for comic parts. 12 Basilio's malice and scorn are expressed in the terzet (Act I., 7) with delicacy and character, and, in contrast with Susanna's painful excitement and the Count's anger, they give to the piece an irony, such as has seldom found expression in music. The point justly noted by Ulibicheff (II., p. 45 ) that Basilio, in his attempts to pacify the Count after finding the page in the arm-chair, repeats the words: "Ah, del paggio quel ch' ho detto era solo un mio sospetto," a fifth higher, brings out in a striking degree his character of refined malice. The effect is heightened by the use of the same motif by the Count, when he is BASILIO. telling how he found the page with Barberina; and it is attained in the simplest manner by the natural development of the musical structure. Basilio falls into the background in the course of the opera; the comic way in which Beaumarchais makes him banished by the Count, and his courtship of
Marcellina, would have afforded good operatic situations, but abbreviation and simplification were absolutely necessary, and much that was not essential had to be sacrificed. The air which is given to Basilio in the last act (Act IV., 3) scarcely affords compensation. Da Ponte, deprived of Beaumarchais' guidance in this place, makes Basilio illustrate by the fable of the asses' skin that those who can flatter and deceive succeed in the world. The musical rendering follows the story, the orchestra giving the characteristic detail. The expression of ease and self-complacency, and above all the incomparable idea, deservedly noticed by Ulibicheff, of turning the last sentence of the heartless poltroon: "Onte, pericoli, vergogna e morte col cuojo d' asino fuggir si puö," into a sort of parody of a triumphal march, give the air a character of its own". Executed with humour and delicate mimicry it becomes in fact an epitome of Basilio's character, with its utter want of genial qualities. But tone-painting occurs only in such touches as those of the storm, the yelping dog, the hurried retreat, and never comes to the foreground. This means of effect, elsewhere so favourite a device in opera buffa, is always sparingly used by Mozart. The "Din din, don, don," in the duet between Susanna and Figaro (Act I., 2) can scarcely be called tone-painting any more than it can be said to be word-painting; it is hardly more than an interjection, which has the advantage in its musical rendering of being incorporated as a motif in the structure of the piece. Nor can the term be justly applied to the march like tone of Figaro's "Non più andrai" (Act I., 9). Certain forms and phrases have developed themselves in music as expressions of warlike ideas, and they are employed as a matter of course where these ideas occur; Figaro, describing to the page the military life before him, has it mirrored as it were by the orchestra. Mozart wisely guards against entering LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. upon any musical details in the picture, which would have led to a distorted tone-painting; he confines himself to the barest and most general allusions produced by association of ideas. It is often difficult to decide how far the association of ideas contributes to the partly involuntary, partly conscious construction of the musical expression. For instance in the first duet between Figaro and Susanna (Act I., 1), the motif for the bass—[See Page Image]
with the corresponding one for the first violins, goes very well with Figaro's measuring of the room, the diminutions expressing clearly enough his repeated stretches. It cannot be doubted that the situation has suggested the motif, but whether Mozart intended to express the action of measurement is far less certain, and any idea of tone-painting is out of the question. The subordinate characters of the drunken gardener Antonio and the stuttering judge Don Curzio might under other circumstances have been made into caricatures in the sense of opera buffa, but they appear in situations which have so decided a character of a totally different kind that they could not have departed from it without serious injury to that harmony of the whole which none knew better than Mozart how to preserve. The little cavatina (Act IV., 1)
for Barbarina, (Fanchette in Beaumarchais) is very significantly not exactly caricatured, but drawn in stronger colours than is elsewhere the case. This little maid, in her liking for Cherubino, and with an open-hearted candour which makes her a true enfant terrible to the Count, is altogether childish, and not only naïve but unformed. It is, therefore, natural that she should express her grief for the lost pin, and her fear of punishment, like a child; and when we hear her sobbing and crying over it we receive the same ludicrous impression which grown-up people rarely fail to feel at the sight of a child expressing the sorrow of his heart with an energy quite out of proportion to the occasion. The fact that the strong accents which Mozart here multiplies to produce the effect of the disproportion of childish FIGARO. ideas are afterwards made use of to express real emotion does no injury to the truth of his characterisation. In a similar way the expression of sentiment is exaggerated when it is represented as feigned; as, for instance, the last finale, when Figaro makes love to the supposed Countess, whom he has recognised as Susanna, and grows more and more vehement in order to excite the Count's jealousy. Here we have a parody of the accents of strongest passion (Vol. II., p. 427). How differently does the same Figaro express his true feelings! How simple and genuine is the expression of his love in the first duet (Act I., 1), when he interrupts his measurements to exclaim to his pretty bride, with heartfelt joy: "Si, mio core, or è più bello!" and in the last finale, when he puts an end to pretence and, in an exalted mood, with the feeling of his newly won, safely assured happiness fresh upon him, exclaims: "Pace! pace, mio dolce tesoro!" Equally true is Figaro's expression of the jealousy which results from his love. At first indeed this feeling is a curiously mingled one. Warned by Susanna herself, he has full confidence in her, and feels all his intellectual superiority to the Count; he contemplates his situation with a humour which is admirably rendered in the celebrated cavatina (Act I., 3). Cheerfully as it begins, the expression of superciliousness and versatility has a tinge of bitterness and resentment, betraying how nearly he is touched by the affair which he affects to treat so lightly. Afterwards, when he believes himself deceived, grief and anger are strongly expressed in the recitative preceding his air (Act IV., 4). But his originality asserts itself even here. The consciousness of what his situation has of the ludicrous never forsakes him, and his anger against the whole female sex, which he works up more and more, involuntarily assumes a comic character. Here we have one of the many points which Mozart added to the text.