Chapter XXXVIII · "DON GIOVANNI." (continued 2)

The appearance of the Commendatore in the last finale is led up to in truly masterly fashion. First we have the display of the luxurious living which has erased from Don Giovanni's mind all remembrance of what has passed. Leporello's greediness, with the jests upon it which were customary in this part of the piece, are made subservient to the more delicate humour of the table music. The entrance of Elvira heightens the situation, and the contrast of her deeply moved feelings and Don Giovanni's frivolous excitement introduces a new turn, and prepares for the catastrophe. Leporello feels, indeed, that Elvira is in the right, but dares not oppose his master, and so introduces no dissonant tone into the strongly marked character of this scene. But when the catastrophe draws near it is Leporello who, as he opened the action at the beginning of the opera, now announces the dread apparition at its close. All the THE COMMENDATORE. terror he has hitherto been a prey to is as nothing compared with his mortal anguish at the sight of the marble guest, and even to the commands of his master he answers only with cries of terror; we feel that, ludicrous as the gestures of the cowardly fellow may be, something must have happened that would have alarmed any one, however courageous. Then there enters the Commendatore, accompanied by! soul-harrowing sounds. 155 No human passion, no anger, no pity speaks from his awful tones: the inflexible decree of an eternal law is embodied in all its sublimity in music. The warning words pursue their measured course, now tarrying upon one note with varied chords, now moving in forcible intervals, the heavy weight accumulating till it threatens to annihilate the culprit. The orchestra is calmer and quieter even than before, but adds many finely shaded touches to the image of the apparition. At one time it strengthens the weighty tread of the sustained sounds by the sharp rhythm of dotted notes—then again it falls in dissonant chords upon strongly accented notes, or gives expression to the curdling horror which seizes the hearer, by means of rapid ascending and descending scales. In face of this dread apparition Don Giovanni summons all his strength together. At first, indeed he is consternated, and the orchestra gives expression to his horror; but he soon collects himself, becomes more and more decided as the Commendatore continues to urge him, the call to repentance serving merely as a challenge to his defiance: his fall is inevitable. Again, as at the first, the two stand opposite each other in deadly struggle, but now it is Don Giovanni who is forced to yield, powerless against the forces of the unseen world. Mozart has endued the awe-struck sublimity DON GIOVANNI. of this scene with noble beauty and force of climax, and has even ventured to invest it with something of a comic tone. Leporello's abject fear during such a conflict was a matter of course, but it would be foreign to his nature even under these circumstances, to be altogether silent. When, with chattering teeth and shaking limbs, he sings his triplets when, upon the Commendatore's question "Verrai?" he calls in deadly fear to his master—[See Page Image]

every one must feel how wofully in earnest the poor wretch is, and how he is ludicrous not of his own free will, but because he cannot help it. Every-day life shows how easily the sublime or the awful passes into the ridiculous, and how the incongruous emotion thus produced only strengthens the impression of horror; the blending of these contrasting elements into a true and living representation in art can only be accomplished by a great genius. There is scarcely anything in dramatic music which can compare in this respect with this scene of "Don Giovanni."

Leporello is not conscious of the ridicule he incurs by his cowardice, and in truth it forms but one feature in his character. His air (Act II., 7) following the sestet, in which he seeks to justify himself on all sides, looking out at the same time for an opportunity of escape, makes his cunning more apparent than his fear. He has collected his senses, and, convinced that once recognised he has nothing more to fear, he only seeks to fortify himself with excuses until he can escape. The air is therefore lighter and easier in tone, in strong contrasts, varying according to the quarters to which he addresses himself, but in no way elaborated, and coming to an end with a musical point charmingly expressive of the words. The moderated tone of the piece is of very good effect after the ponderous length of the sestet. Leporello is a dissipated, insolent fellow, but, little as his principles can stand before a threat or a bribe, he has not so completely emancipated himself from all moral restraint LEPORELLO—AIRS. as has his master. He has little scruple, however, in accepting his part in the villainies planned by Don Giovanni, who makes use of him chiefly to get rid of Elvira. In the celebrated air (Act I., 4) in which, professedly by way of consolation, he unrolls the list of his master's amours, he does not conceal the pleasure which the remembrance of the love adventures and the thought of the trick he is playing on Elvira afford him. In the first part the enumeration of the long list is made parlando, only here and there the accent is somewhat raised for effect, as at the famous "Ma in Ispagna son già mille e trè"; but the orchestra, in lively motion all the time, betrays the reminiscence of jovial and licentious adventures which is passing through the mind of the speaker. He grows warmer over his description of his master's tastes and habits, and gives full expression to every detail, until his final malicious apostrophe, "Voi sapete quel che fa," is given with undisguised mockery.

Those who have heard how Lablache sang—[See Page Image]

Quel che fa under his breath, and a little through his nose, with an indescribable side glance at Elvira, can have an idea of the comic ill-nature which Mozart meant to throw into this conclusion.

The characterisation, appropriate in every detail and inimitable in its rendering of Leporello's secret complacency, 156 can only be rightly appreciated with the Italian words; the German translation is most faulty where the musical treatment demanded the strictest accuracy; the mode of expression, too, is purely Italian, sometimes only comprehensible in conjunction with Italian pantomime. When indeed he extols "nella bionda la gentilezza, nella DON GIOVANNI. bruna la costanza, nella bianca la dolcezza," the expression is universally applicable, and the grande maestoso rises plainly before the minds of all; but when we come to—[See Page Image]

the proper effect cannot be rendered in German. In the streets of any town in Italy it may be observed how, when anything is to be described as small, the person describing it repeats the word eight or ten times with great rapidity, lowering the hand by degrees nearer and nearer to the ground; and the action could not possibly be better indicated than in this place by Mozart. There is a similar effect in the terzet (Act II., 2) where Leporello cannot contain his laughter—[See Page Image]

Se se-gui-ta-te ri-do, ri-do, ri-do, ri-do, ri-do, ri-do, ri-do, ri-do, ri-do, ri-do, and the silent internal chuckle of the Italian is musically expressed to perfection. More especially has the rapid utterance, one of the principal devices of opera buffa, a totally different signification in Italian and German. It is not natural to the German, and appears either exaggerated or vulgar; it should therefore be seldom and carefully employed as a means of characterisation. For an Italian, on the contrary, rapid speech, for which his language is so well adapted, is the natural expression of excitement, and the only question for him is whether he shall give vent to his feelings or exercise control over them. In Italian opera it is used without scruple, and without in itself aiming at making a comic impression; the circumstances, persons engaged, and manner employed give the character of the piece. In the part of Leporello the rapid parlando has a very different expression in different situations, and can always be justified on psychological grounds. But it is by no means exclusively the characteristic of comic persons. In the first finale (Act I., 13) Masetto's rapid outpouring of jealous rage, Zerlina's fear and distress, are not intended to move the THE RAPID PARLANDO. audience to laughter; they merely give natural expression to their feelings, and it is the situation which produces the comic effect. These characters, it is true, belong to the lower classes, to whom some indulgence might be accorded in respect of good manners; but even Don Giovanni makes free use of his tongue when he ceases to exercise control over himself. In his intercourse with Leporello especially he allows much freedom to his servant, and lowers himself to the same level; this is of course made apparent in the musical expression, and various small indications of a free and easy tone of conversation have an extraordinary effect on the free and vivid conception of the whole. In the short duet (Act II., 1) in which he appeases the incensed Leporello, he expresses himself altogether after the manner of the latter, but it must be remembered that Leporello is really highly indignant, while Don Giovanni is only in joke all the time; in this contrast consists the comic point of the situation. Again, too, in the first finale, when he loses presence of mind for a moment, he falls into this rapid utterance with the words: "È confusa la mia testa," which, as soon as he has collected himself, ceases again with the words "ma non manca-in me coraggio." In the quartet (Act I.) the danger threatening him through Elvira excites him so greatly that in counselling her to be careful—"Siate un poco più prudente"—the rapidity of his address betrays his own loss of self-control. There is something of a comic tone in this, but the gravity of the situation does not allow it to go beyond a mere shade, and even this rapid parlando ought not to assume a really buffo character. Elvira herself, with the unbridled passion of her nature, gives vent to her anger in winged words, which are certainly not calculated to produce a comic effect. Donna Anna, on the other hand, and Don Ottavio, persons of high birth and breeding, never so far lose command over themselves as to fall into this hurried speech. The quartet just mentioned is one of the finest instances of the quality and extent of Mozart's genius. The conversation between Donna Anna, Don Ottavio, and Don Giovanni is most unexpectedly interrupted by the warnings of Elvira; the two first are amazed, and uncertain what to make of it, DON GIOVANNI. while Don Giovanni, alarmed, seeks by deception to keep them in uncertainty, and to silence Elvira. All this gives rise to a genuinely musical variety of mood tinged with melancholy by the grief of Donna Anna and Don Ottavio. A most prominent feature of the whole is the skilful grouping. Donna Anna and Don Ottavio are inseparable, and form the nucleus of the piece; Elvira and Don Giovanni, though in opposition, are sometimes together, and sometimes in conjunction with the other two. The situation demands that Elvira shall be most frequently isolated, in contrast with the three remaining characters; and as her passionate excitement keeps her in the foreground, she gives the tone to the whole piece, and Don Giovanni is constrained to follow her, while Don Ottavio and Donna Anna only occasionally emerge from their mood of anxious contemplation. A touch of dramatic truth is the adoption by the orchestra and other voices of Elvira's motif to the words—[See Page Image]

so that it seems to be the key to the riddle forcing itself on the ear and betraying Don Giovanni's guilt. The motif recurs after all the reproaches, questions, and appeals, and dies away in gentle but pained reproach when the true position of affairs is left unexplained. The suspicion which here enters the mind of Donna Anna prepares the way for the conviction which forces itself upon her that Don Giovanni is the murderer of her father. The grouping of the voices is treated primarily as a means of psychological characterisation. The entrance of Elvira in the second finale gives Leporello a moral shock which brings him musically en rapport with Elvira, and their parts are therefore in correspondence; indeed, towards the end they are in close imitation 157 and opposed to that of Don Giovanni. In the DON GIOVANNI. terzet again (Act II., 2), Leporello is first associated with Don Giovanni and afterwards with Elvira, whom he begins by reviling, but who later arouses his sympathy, while Don Giovanni holds aloof from them both. This power of grouping the parts so that they shall serve the purposes of psychological and dramatic characterisation as well as of musical construction, is observable in every one of the ensemble pieces.

L. Bassi (1766-1825), who is described as an excellent and well-trained singer, and as a man of fine exterior and pleasing manners, 158 was, we are told, very much annoyed that, as the chief personage of the opera, he had no grand air to sing; this was probably felt by others as a blemish in the work. If the nature of Don Giovanni had at all resembled that of Faust, he could not have failed to give some expression to the mental conflict between sensuality and misanthropy on the one hand, and the impulses of his higher moral nature on the other; and such a conflict would have lent itself readily to musical representation. But Don Giovanni has no scruples of the kind; the gratification of his desires is his sole object, and to this he devotes himself in all the consciousness of his own strength. Danger entices him as calling forth his powers; he delights in jests which demonstrate his superiority to his victim, and sensual enjoyment is his only real object in life. He pursues it neither with the lust of a fiend nor with the passion of a strongly moved nature, but with a reckless abandonment to sensual impulses taking absolute possession of all his faculties, and so coming into momentary contact with the nobler capabilities which exist in every soul. Imposing strength, external refinement, a jovial and even humorous manner are, indeed, far from ennobling or dignifying such a character; but they render it less despicable, and reflect line for line the manners of the age which produced Tirso's "Don Juan" and Da Ponte's "Don Giovanni." Music, which in its very nature gives preference and expression to the emotional element of the human mind, DON GIOVANNI. was the only fitting exponent of such a creation in the world of art. 159 A nature such as that of Don Giovanni does not express itself in monologue, but in action, and we learn to know him almost exclusively in his relations to others. It is only when he is directing Leporello to prepare a costly banquet, and abandoning himself to the anticipation of the enjoyment it will afford him, that he gives musical expression to his excitement in an air, or rather in a Lied (Act I., 11). His mind is engrossed with the idea of the ball, and he predicts the situation which actually occurs in the finale; even the three different dances are mentioned by name:—

Starting with this idea, Mozart has given him a simple and very lively dance song to sing, in which nothing of the higher passions and still less either of demoniacal lust or noble sentiment can be traced, but only a very powerful expression of sensual impulse in a sort of fleeting paroxysm. The very pleasing and impressive melody, the simple harmony, the marked rhythm, and especially the instrumentation, all combine to produce a happy effect. The flutes and violins, which lead the melody almost without interruption, maintain the dance-like character of the song, and the uniformly rapid movement of the accompaniment produces a singular degree of excitement, enhanced by the strong accents of the wind instruments. So again, the digression into the minor key, making the sting of DON GIOVANNI—AIRS. unbridled passion to be felt in the very indulgence of it, is of very striking effect. The serenade (Act II., 3) is of a totally different character; Mozart has written Canzonetta against it. Don Giovanni here pours out the whole warmth of his feelings towards the fair one whose heart he hopes to win. The Italian version of the song has a national character both in rhythm and language; it is of little consequence whether Don Giovanni is supposed to be singing a well-known song, or improvising one. The irresistible, insinuating flattery of this song, the state of voluptuous longing which it expresses, have the same sort of effect upon us as the dazzling colour and intoxicating perfume of some rare exotic flower; there is nothing, even in Mozart, which can be compared to it. The effect of the charming melody, and of the well-chosen harmonies, is much enhanced by the pizzicato mandoline accompaniment supported by the stringed instruments. The tender, curiously vibrating tone of the metal strings of the mandoline seems inseparable from the sweet gracefulness of the song; the instrument was then in common use (Mozart has written several songs to the mandoline, Vol. II., p. 371, note), and its effect was thus all the more characteristic. 160

The only real air which Don Giovanni sings, he sings not as Don Giovanni; disguised as Leporello, he is giving Masetto and his companions directions for catching himself, and the musical characterisation must therefore approach burlesque. This air (Act II., 4), "Metà di voi qua vadano," belongs undoubtedly to those original conceptions which one admires without exactly understanding how they have been brought about. The situation in itself affords no proper musical impulse; it treats merely of the posting of scouts, of communication by signals, the speaker himself being thrown into a dubious light by reason of his disguise, and none DON GIOVANNI. but a great genius could have found in this place a nucleus round which to develop a musical masterpiece. The character of the piece is of course buffo, not only because Don Giovanni is playing the part of Leporello, but because he is himself thoroughly enjoying the trick he is playing Masetto; these motives must therefore be blended. It is only necessary to compare this song with those of Leporello (Act I., 4; II., 7), to appreciate the essential difference in their style. The rapidly spoken passages give a tone of vulgarity, which is relieved by occasional involuntary expressions of greater dignity; passages such as—[See Page Image]

could not have been sung by Leporello; they show us the cavalier beneath his disguise. In accordance with the situation the voice is kept parlando; and the orchestra to which the constructive detail is intrusted is so independently treated that it might without injury dispense with the voice, although each is in fact the necessary complement of the other. The mysterious importance and the apparent confidence of Don Giovanni, which form the fundamental motif of the situation when contrasted with the earnest attention and curiosity of the country people, are humorously conceived and the orchestra renders every turn of what is passing in the minds of all concerned. But, in spite of this, the musical characterisation can only be made fully effective by suitable pantomime on the part of all the characters, even of those who do not speak, except through the orchestra. Don Giovanni's true character, however, is not displayed until he comes in contact with the other, and more especially with the female, characters of the opera. His seductive powers are first practised towards Zerlina. She is represented as a simple village ZERLINA. maiden; and the little duet (Act I., 5) which she sings with her affianced lover amid the joyful acclamations of their friends, expresses innocent gladness in the simplest possible manner and with quite a popular tone. 161 Don Giovanni is the first to arouse sentiments which have hitherto slumbered unsuspected in her bosom. The simple peasant girl becomes an easy prey to the elegant man of the world; her vanity is flattered by his condescension, and his way of expressing the tender emotions excited in him by sensual gratification impresses Zerlina's innocent mind with a conviction of truthfulness, and rouses so irresistible a love towards him that all other considerations are cast into the shade. This is the main idea expressed in the duet (Act I., 6), wherein Don Giovanni makes speedy conquest of Zerlina's heart. The feeling of mutual satisfaction to which they both yield, as it has been preceded by no strife of passions, gives rise to an expression of unalloyed happiness cradled in softest, warmest sunlight. The second part was indeed required to contain more of fire and passion, but the truth of the characterisation has probably suffered thereby. Zerlina's nature is neither deep nor passionate, but light and impressionable; and Don Giovanni's chief weapon is his power of assimilating himself to the woman whom he designs to attract. This point has been made admirable use of by Mozart. 162 Such a broad psychological fact is, however, easy to represent; that which can neither be analysed nor reproduced is the effect of the tender intensity of the simple notes, which penetrate the soul like the glance of a loving eye.

At the second interview between the two the state of affairs is considerably modified. Zerlina has been warned by Elvira; she has just calmed Masetto's jealousy with some difficulty, and is aware that he overhears; she seeks, therefore, to repel DON GIOVANNI. Don Giovanni, though conscious that he has lost none of his old attraction for her. He knows this, and answers her petition for mercy with her own motif, whereby the love-making is as delicately characterised as immediately afterwards his astonishment at finding Masetto in ambush, and the quick presence of mind with which he ceremoniously greets him, whereupon Don Giovanni's own phrase is mockingly repeated by Masetto. The orchestra, after accompanying the lovers with strains as tender as their own, here gives inimitable expression to suppressed scorn and resentment. The dance music is heard, however, and relieves the strain; all except Zerlina feel the relief, and hasten within. As the festivities proceed, and Zerlina, watched by Masetto's jealous eyes, endeavours to elude Don Giovanni's pursuit of her until he leads her to the dance and then carries her off, 163 the complicated situation is characterised, as a whole, with firm and distinct touches, and the individual points are allowed to fall into the background. When she has been delivered from Don Giovanni's hands her feelings for him have undergone a revulsion, and henceforward she is found among the number of his pursuers. Her passing inclination for the libertine has, however, roused into life a germ which is fostered and developed by her relations towards Masetto. At first her intercourse with her lover is unreserved and entirely happy. Masetto is represented as a course, jealous, but good-natured clown, and appears at a disadvantage when compared with Zerlina, Don Giovanni, or even with Leporello. Mozart has sketched his figure for us in simple graphic lines, never bringing him to the foreground, but always giving him his right place in the ensemble movements, to which he contributes his share of life and colour. He only asserts himself once in an air, when Don Giovanni is sending him away in order to be alone with Zerlina. This is of a decidedly buffo character, and, compared with the MASETTO—ZERLINA. airs of Don Giovanni and Leporello, affords a totally distinct but equally faithful picture of character; His indignation, only restrained from respect for the great man, which would fain vent itself in ironical bitterness, his coarse sarcasm, which he intends to be so delicate and biting, are admirably characterised. The very first motif of the orchestra, where the ominous horns are again distinctly heard—[See Page Image]

at which he exclaims, "Ho capito, signor si," shows by the monotonous repetition of increasingly emphatic bars how engrossed he is in the one idea which has taken possession of his mind. The two motifs with which he sarcastically addresses Zerlina and Don Giovanni are also admirably characteristic; and equally so the conclusion, where he does not know how to stop; and the syncopated rhythm adds not a little force to the expression of his perplexity.

Zerlina's two airs are in vivid contrast to the coarse and boorish, but honest character of her lover. They express neither affection nor tenderness, but rather the consciousness of her own superiority, which her intercourse with Don Giovanni has revealed to her. Hers is one of those easy natures which are volatile without being actually untrue, whose feelings are the children of the passing moment, and whose charm is enhanced by the excitement of the moment. The master has inspired this lovely and graceful form with a breath of warm sentiment, without which she would be cold; and her roguish smile saves her from the reproach of mere sentimentality. The first air (Act I., 12) takes its tone from Zerlina's desire to pacify Masetto; but there is no trace of a need for forgiveness—of the consciousness of an unlawful love; she disarms her lover's wrath with caressing tenderness, and gives him glimpses of bliss which he is far too weak to resist.

It would be impossible to conceive a more charming love-making, and no false note of sentimentality mars the graceful picture. The obbligato violoncello lends itself in a singular degree to the individual characterisation, its restless DON GIOVANNI. movement and soft low sound standing in happiest contrast to the clear fresh voices; the accompaniment completes what the singer leaves unsaid. It portrays the anxious hesitation in the minds of both the lovers; and not until the second part does the motion flow free and full, till all resentment dies away in gentle murmurings. The second air (Act II., 5), corresponds to a different situation. Masetto has been beaten, and Zerlina tries to console him; if she were to put on an air of sentimental gravity it would appear absurd; the roguish playfulness with which Mozart has endowed the broader merriment indicated by the words is far more appropriate here, and gives the expression of pure and tender grace, which renders this one of the most attractive of songs. The clearness and brightness of the instrumentation compared with that of the first air is very striking.

Very different is Don Giovanni's behaviour towards Elvira.

This ungrateful part of a deserted mistress has for the most part been neglected. If a great artist, such as Schroder-Devrient, had conceived the idea of embodying on the stage the dignified character of Elvira as Mozart created it, the representation of the opera would have been placed on an altogether different footing. Elvira is in an outward position of equality with Don Giovanni. She is his superior in nobility of mind, and she has been deeply injured by him. Her first air (Act I., 3) 164 shows her as a woman of strong character and passionate feeling, as far from the ladylike reserve of Donna Anna as from the youthful grace of Zerlina. As unreservedly as she had given her love to Don Giovanni does she now yield to her thirst for revenge, and even this proceeds not so much from injured pride as from disappointed love, ready to burst in new flames from its ashes. The tone-colouring of the instrumentation in this air is in very striking contrast to that of the previous songs; clarinets are used for the first time, and with the horns and bassoons (no flutes) give a full and brilliant effect. Don Giovanni overhearing her, and sympathising with her while ELVIRA. not recognising her, together with the running comments he makes on her to Leporello, add a mixture of humour to the scene which could not be more gracefully expressed. The laugh is unsparingly turned against Elvira, and is occasioned by the passionateness with which she has compassed her own discomfiture. The musical rendering clearly shows that in her proper person she remains unaffected by it. Resolved to pursue Don Giovanni, and defeat his machinations, she intercepts him as he is hastening into his casino with Zerlina, and exclaims to the deluded maid:—

This air, unlike the rest of the opera, retains the form of the older school, then still frequently heard in church music. 165 Apparently Mozart made use of the severe, harsh form which at once suggests the idea of sacred music to the hearer, in order to give the impression of a moral lecture, and to emphasise the contrast with the "gay intoxication of self-forgetfulness" of the rest of the scene. 166 This mode of address was appropriately and suggestively employed towards the peasant maid; but Elvira adopts quite another tone when she returns and finds Don Giovanni in close converse with Donna Anna. In the quartet (Act I., 8) (likely 9, DW) her warning, in accordance with the exalted rank of the mourners, takes a plaintive tone, and her passion only flares up again when roused by Don Giovanni's duplicity. Then she comes forward, and her energetic tone predominates in the ensemble movements, although the silent power of true nobility and grief exerts a moderating influence on her expressions of passion. She makes a similar impression DON GIOVANNI. in the first finale (Act I., 13). She has explained herself to Donna Anna and Don Ottavio, and they are leagued together to watch and to expose Don Giovanni. When they appear masked in front of the casino she encourages them to act boldly; Don Ottavio chimes in with her, but Donna Anna is seized with maidenly fears face to face with such an adventure. All this is expressed in the most admirable manner, and a few touches suffice to place the two women before us in all the dissimilarity of their natures. The accompaniment, too, is unusually characteristic. In sharp contrast to the cheerful excitement in which Don Giovanni, Zerlina, and Masetto make their exit stands the mournful accompaniment to Elvira, while Don Ottavio's powerful tenor notes are infused with additional energy by the accented passage? for the wind instruments. The accompaniment, without altering its essential character, adopts at Donna Anna's entrance an anxious plaintive tone expressive of the purity and elevation of her mind. After a short colloquy with Leporello, who invites them to enter, the three, confident in the justice of their cause, prepare for their difficult enterprise. After the restless energy of the previous scene this clear and composed expression of a deeper emotion diffuses a sense of calm beneficence. The construction of the movement places Donna Anna and Don Ottavio in close juxtaposition; Elvira is placed in opposition to them and, in accordance with her character, she is more animated and energetic. Here again the desired effect is much strengthened by the support of the orchestra. It was unusual to make use of the wind instruments alone in accompaniments; and in addition to this the full soft sound of the extended chords contrasts strikingly with the deep tones of the clarinets, heard now for the first time. What a contrast it forms, too, to the tone-colouring of the preceding movement; one feels for the moment transported to another world. Scarcely have the last echoes died away when the sharp attack of the orchestra on the following movement brings us down to earth again. In the scene which follows it is Elvira who is ever on the watch—who with Don Ottavio intercepts and ELVIRA—TERZET. unmasks Don Giovanni; after that she falls into her place with the rest. Implacable as Elvira shows herself in her pursuit of revenge on Don Giovanni, her love for him has taken such deep root in her heart, his personality exercises such a magic power over her, that she is ready to forget all that is past, and to trust herself to him again. Poetry could only make this visible by means of a chain of connecting links; music is happier in its power of rendering the most hidden springs of human action; once let the right key be struck, and the state of mind to be represented is there. And seldom has a frame of mind incapable of verbal description been so truly and beautifully expressed as in this terzet (Act II., 2). A short ritomello places the hearer in a frame of mind which enables him to give credence to what he is about to learn. Elvira, alone in the twilight, comes to the window; old memories awaken old feelings, which, while she deplores them, she cannot escape. Don Giovanni, who is present, resolves to turn this softened mood to account; he wishes to drive Elvira away, and a fresh triumph over her affections is a satisfaction to his arrogant vanity. Leporello in his master's hat and cloak is made to advance, and Don Giovanni, concealed behind him, addresses Elvira tenderly in the very notes which have just issued from her mouth. Don Giovanni's appeal comes to her like an echo of her own thoughts. She interrupts him with the same lively reproaches which she has already uttered to herself, while he prays for her pity with the most melting tenderness. Elvira is overcome, and thereupon very appropriately the motif occurs with which Leporello first expressed his consternation at Elvira's appearance. Don Giovanni persists all the more urgently in the same tone, and the turn of expression just alluded to is developed, with a startling impetus produced by the transition to the key of C major, into a cantilene of entrancing beauty. 167 DON GIOVANNI. He answers Elvira's violent reproaches ("con transporto e quasi piangendo," Mozart has noted them) with exclamations of increasing passion, and threatens to kill himself if she does not grant his prayer. The feeling that Elvira must yield to so passionate an outburst of the love towards which her heart impels her is mingled with a sense of Leporello's ludicrous situation, and we feel no incongruity in his fit of laughter. But when Elvira actually yields, even Leporello cannot withhold his sympathy from her, while Don Giovanni mockingly triumphs in his victory. In a certain sense the two have exchanged their parts as well as their clothes. This terzet may safely be cited as an example of how simplicity of design and regularity of construction may unite with perfect beauty and truth of expression into a piece of genuine dramatic characterisation; but who can express in words the tender fragrance of loving desire which breathes from the music like the perfumes from an evening landscape? If we are to infer Don Giovanni's character from the duet with Zerlina (Act I., 6), the serenade (Act II., 3), and this terzet, we have the picture of an engaging and amiable personality which strikes every tone of affection and desire with bewitching grace and delicacy, and with an accent of such true feeling that it is impossible for the female heart to withstand him. This is not the whole of Don Giovanni's character, however. When Elvira's weakness has betrayed her into an equivocal position, Don Giovanni's heartless insolence places her in a situation which only Leporello's comic character prevents from becoming an exceedingly painful one. The fear which takes undisputed possession of him during the interview reflects a comic light upon Elvira, but without interfering with her preconceived character. Mozart has succeeded admirably in the sestet (Act II., 6) in maintaining Elvira's dignity of deportment both towards the craven Leporello and her former allies; she never sinks below herself; but the consciousness of her weakness and of the dastardly trick played upon her has broken her spirit. There is no trace of the energetic, flaming passion of the earlier Elvira; Donna Anna's pure ELVIRA—INSERTED AIR—FINALE. form rises high above her, and she no longer takes the lead in the expression of astonishment and indignation. After the sestet, when Leporello had escaped from the hands of Zerlina, there was inserted in Vienna an air for Elvira, in which the violence of her passion is moderated to a degree almost incredible. The softened mood in which the feeling of her inextinguishable love is expressed no longer as anger against the traitor, but as pity for the lost sinner, is, when rightly delivered, 168 most admirably represented; but the dignity and nobleness which have stilled the waves of sorrow and revenge are not really consistent with the fire and force of the true Elvira. Then, also, the accents of disappointed love, which Mozart knew how to evoke with such masterly insight, are scarcely present at all in this air. Nevertheless, considered musically it is of great beauty, and the voices are most effectively supported by obbligato solo instruments, which are never elsewhere used in exactly the same way by Mozart. This charming piece is not inappropriate in its own place, but it does not render either situation or character with the same breadth or accuracy which Mozart elsewhere displays in "Don Giovanni." Any idea of a closer connection with Don Giovanni being now out of the question, Elvira, feeling also that her own existence is rendered worthless, resolves to enter a convent. But her character and her undying affection forbid her to part for ever from Don Giovanni without calling him to repentance and amendment. Her entrance in the second finale interrupts the merriment of Don Giovanni and Leporello at table, and, like a landscape in changing lights, the whole tone of the music is altered at a stroke. 169 Her warning here is very different to that which she addressed to Zerlina. A stream of glowing words comes from the very depths of her love-tossed heart, and beats in vain against the overweening pride of her heartless betrayer. At first he seeks to treat her appeal as a jest, which may be humoured; and when her prayers, her tears, her dismay are thereby DON GIOVANNI. redoubled, he mocks at her with all the frivolity of his pleasure-seeking nature. This is too much even for Leporello: he sympathetically approaches Elvira; and the effect is very fine, when the same notes which seemed to threaten annihilation by their weight at Elvira's entrance are heard from the mouth of Leporello. Don Giovanni's overbearing insolence increases and calls down upon him the fate to which, now that even Elvira has left him, he is doomed to hasten. This scene is again a very masterpiece of high dramatic art. A flow of passionate emotion, like a lava stream down the mountain side, succeeds to the loosely connected musical jests of the supper-table. The very change of tone-colouring is of the greatest significance. The first noisy and brilliant movement, with its trumpets and drums and lively passages for the stringed instruments, is succeeded by the arranged harmony music, against which the full orchestra, with the combined strength of wind and stringed instruments, stands in bold relief. Don Giovanni and Elvira are here for the first time opposed on equal terms. Her passionate emotion is purified and ennobled without any loss of strength or reality; and he displays an energy and keen enjoyment of life which would have something great in it if it were directed to higher aims, but which here excites only horror. It prepares us for the resistance which he is to make to the spectral apparition; but the insolent scorn with which he hardens himself against Elvira's prayers is more shocking to the feelings than his determined resistance to the horrors of the nether world, wherein we cannot but grant him our sympathy. Sharply accented as are the mocking tone of mind and the sensuality of Don Giovanni, we never find him vulgar or revolting. This is due to the combination of strength and boldness with beauty of form in the music allotted to him. What can be more impressive than the oft-repeated motif given to Don Giovanni:—[See Page Image] DON GIOVANNI'S CHARACTER. with no support but a simple bass, in strong contrast to the rich accompaniment elsewhere employed? His good breeding is as characteristic of him as his love of enjoyment, and is shown at his first entrance in his behaviour towards Donna Anna and the Commendatore. There is no roughness in his struggle with her, and he would fain avoid violence, as also in the combat with her father; not until his honour as a cavalier has been touched to the quick does he draw his sword, and the result of the duel causes him genuine emotion. True, his nobler impulses are not of long duration; he is destitute of generosity or nobility of mind, and his highest quality is mere brute courage. In the churchyard scene, when his arrogance has brought matters to a crisis, and Leporello has made his terrified exit, the horror of his situation rouses all Don Giovanni's determination, and he passes the bounds of foolhardiness in his defiance of the spectre. This scene, however, in which the defiance of a mortal is forced to yield to the higher powers, is a necessary sequel to the preceding one with Elvira, in which the moral conflict has just been fought out. Its pathos redeems it from burlesque, and spreads an impression of horror which overmasters human reason. Mozart's success in the combination of these qualities into a whole of harmonious beauty has already been admired by us as the work of a genius. Gracious and winning manners and overflowing strength and animal spirits, combined with the refinement of good birth and breeding and the frankness of a jovial temperament, produce a picture of a man richly endowed by nature, but requiring to bend to moral restraint before he can be called great or noble. He attracts liking, he rouses sympathy, but he is doomed to final overthrow.

Donna Anna, 170 as the representative of intellectual elevation and moral purity, is placed in strong contrast to this seductive being, who attracts and degrades all with whom he comes in contact. She triumphs over him from the first, DON GIOVANNI. the magic of his presence being powerless to affect her pure spirit. But her maidenly pride resents his unworthy advances; the idea that an insult so great should remain unpunished rouses such passion within her, that she loses sight of all save her just revenge. The music gives a tone of nobility and elevation to her passionate excitement, stamping her at once as the superior nature to which Don Giovanni yields, not only that he may escape recognition, but because he cannot help himself. Her relation to him preserves this tone throughout, and there is no subsequent suggestion of any closer or more personal interest.

Hoffmann's infelicitous idea that Donna Anna had been dishonoured by Don Giovanni is contradicted by Da Ponte's libretto, which emphasises her affection for Don Ottavio as repeatedly and decidedly as does the high-pitched ideality of the music. It is a grievous error to suppose that her "high-tragedy manner" towards her betrothed arises from the consciousness of shame and from falsehood and hypocrisy, and not rather from an elevated sense of pride and pure morality and from filial grief for her murdered father. Hoffmann's conception of the two chief characters, and their; relations to each other, though often quoted, 171 is in many respects a misleading one. A Don Giovanni, a very demon, who seeks in sensual love to satisfy his cravings for the supernatural; who, weary and satiated with earthly pleasures, despising mankind, and in utter scorn against nature and his Creator seeks to compass the ruin of every woman he meets, is as foreign to the age, the character, and the music of Mozart as a Donna Anna who, loving the greatness which originally existed in Don Giovanni, yields to him without resistance, only to feel doubly conscious of her abasement and absorbed in the desire for revenge.

Upon her return with Don Ottavio she finds her father a corpse, and, after making the most pitiful lamentations, she becomes insensible. Coming to herself her first DONNA ANNA. half-unconscious exclamation is for her father; she imagines that the murderer is before her, and beseeches him to slay her also. When the dread certainty has brought her to full consciousness, she collects all her forces for revenge. She makes Ottavio swear vengeance on the murderer, and her excitement rises to an unnatural joy at the prospect of the fulfilment of their gloomy task. The musical rendering of this state of mind is perfect. The high-pitched mood of Donna Anna is characterised with so much precision and delicacy, and the continuous climax is so consistent and well connected, chiefly by virtue of the musical construction, that we feel ourselves taken captive and prepared to accept what we hear as the involuntary outbursts of passion. 172 Even Don Ottavio's consolatory words, sharply as they contrast in their cantilene-like delivery with Donna Anna's broken interjections, betray in their restless accompaniment and changing harmonies the inner disquiet from which he cannot free himself. As soon, however, as the thought of revenge has been grasped, the two go together, and the voices are in close connection, while the orchestra (a chief factor in the musical rendering of the whole scene) contrasts with them in sharpest accents, now urging, now restraining; the long suspense of the detached, disconnected phrases is relieved by the stream of passion which seems to raise the weight from the hearts from which it flows. Don Ottavio, owing partly to the libretto, has acquired an unfavourable reputation that can scarcely be entirely overcome, even if the exaggerations which have become customary in his part should be discarded. 173 In real life we feel the highest esteem for a character which preserves calmness and clearness in the midst of heaviest trials, DON GIOVANNI. and stands loyally and tenderly by the side of the afflicted; but we seldom find a poetic or passionate side to such a nature. Such an one is Don Ottavio. He preserves his composure amid the whirlwind of passion around him; his love imposes upon him the task of consoling and supporting his beloved one under the loss of her father, and he performs it in a manner at once tender and manly. He rises to greater strength in the summons to vengeance, when he shows himself in no way inferior to Donna Anna; and when the two next come upon the scene, it is he who exhorts Donna Anna to stifle her grief and to dream only of revenge. The unexpected appearance of Elvira, and Don Giovanni's behaviour inspire him with some degree of suspicion; but he and Donna Anna preserve in the quartet (Act I., 8) a dignified reserve towards the strangers, which has a depressing effect when united with their mournful contemplation of their own sorrow. Here they are entirely at one with each other, and so the music renders them; their superiority of birth and demeanour has its effect on the other two characters, and gives the tone to the whole. Don Giovanni's entrance, his glance and tone, inspire Donna Anna with the certainty of his being her father's murderer; the memory of that fearful event flashes across her, and the tumult of feeling which it arouses is expressed by the orchestra in pungent dissonances by means of opposing rhythm and harsh sounds produced especially by the trumpets, which have been silent since the overture until now. It is with difficulty that she composes herself sufficiently to acquaint her lover with the cause of her agitation.

When she has told him all, she urges him again to revenge her father's death, in an air (Act I., 10) of which the delicate characterisation completes the perfect image of Donna Anna. This air, in comparison with the preceding recitative and with the duet, is temperate in tone. The renewed appeal for revenge is not the same involuntary outburst of passion which it was; it is the expression of conviction, and is therefore more composed, though not less forcible than before. A high and noble pride speaks in the first motifs (Vol. 11., p. 428)—[See Page Image] DONNA ANNA—OTTAVIO. with inimitable dignity and force, while the plaintive sextoles of the violins and violas, the urgent figure for the basses, which turns to imitation at the second motif, and the gentle admonitory dialogue of the wind instruments represent the restless anxiety which has called forth her determination. 174

Donna Anna's elevation of mind raises the man of her choice, and her maidenly bashfulness gives her confidence a lover-like character. Ottavio, who has not been inspired with the same instinctive certainty of Don Giovanni's guilt, finds it hard to convince himself that a nobleman, and his friend, can be capable of such a crime; but he is quite ready to acknowledge the necessity for closely observing him. It was at this point that the air composed in Vienna was inserted (Anh. 3) to express Ottavio's devoted love for Donna Anna. It depicts exclusively the tender lover, and the heroic impulses which might be supposed to belong to the situation will be sought for in vain; the contrast with Donna Anna's high-spirited air is very striking. No doubt the insertion of the song was, in some measure at least, a concession to the individual singer and to the preference of the public for sentimental lovers. Granting this, however, it is simple and true in sentiment, tender without sickliness, and of purest melody. Besides the clear and lovely chief melodies, parts here and there, such as the transition to B minor and the return to D major at the words, "E non ho bene s' ella non l' ha," have a very striking effect. But the song DON GIOVANNI. is below the level of the situation, and, for want of a counterbalancing force, it injures the conception of Don Ottavio's character. The masque terzet expresses in a very pure and noble manner the contrast between an affection based on moral constancy, such as that of Donna Anna and Don Ottavio, and the unwholesome passions of the other characters. Donna Anna, entering masked to play the spy on Don Giovanni, is seized with alarm at the danger which threatens them all, especially her lover—"Temo pel caro sposo" she sings with her own melting, plaintive tones—and she calms her fears with difficulty. In the ball-room, where noisy merriment is at its height, their dignified appearance gives the assembly a certain air of solemnity. Leporello and Don Giovanni greet them respectfully; they answer somewhat ceremoniously, and join in the cry: "Viva la libertà!" but with a sort of dignified reserve which stamps them as of superior rank to the crowd of country people round them. This is a faithful reflection of the manners of the time; so also is the subordination of the chorus in this scene: it was customary for country people to keep at a respectful distance before persons of rank. When the dance recommences, it is Donna Anna again who finds her feelings so hard to master that she almost betrays herself. Zerlina's cry for help is the signal for an outbreak of general excitement; and henceforth they are all avowedly ranged against Don Giovanni. Don Ottavio acts as the mouthpiece and champion of the women, and calls Don Giovanni to account for the murder of the Commendatore. But he makes no attempt to take the punishment of the crime into his own hands, and Don Giovanni is allowed to beat a retreat from the presence of his former friends and now determined opponents. No chorus is introduced in the last movement of the first finale, and indeed none is conceivable. 175 What would be gained in material sound-effects would be lost in true dramatic effect. The "buona gente" do not presume to take part in the DONNA ANNA—OTTAVIO dispute of their lords; and, as the affair grows serious, the dancers and musicians leave the ball-room hastily, and the principal characters remain in possession of the scene. 176

Hitherto Don Ottavio has shown himself as a man deserving of Donna Anna's affection and confidence, loyal and devoted, cautious and determined, and preserving throughout the lofty demeanour which distinguishes him from Don Giovanni. But from this point we are in expectation that he will put his resolutions into action, and that the second act gives him no opportunity of doing so is a serious blemish.

The loose and disconnected plot of the second act sacrifices Donna Anna and Don Ottavio in especial; Elvira, Zerlina, and Masetto are woven not unskilfully into its intricate meshes, but the other two are altogether left out. In the sestet (Act II., 6) the earlier motif of consolatory assurance is repeated without any definite occasion, and only the exalted purity of the music can cover this defect. Their presence is in no way necessary either to the exposure of Leporello's trickery; it is amply justified from a musical point of view, however, for the noble and dignified tone, which contrasts with Leporello's comic fright and gives the character of the ensemble, is the result of their participation.

Don Giovanni's new villainy having removed all doubt of his guilt from Don Ottavio's mind, the latter no longer hesitates to call him to account. His conduct has rendered him unworthy of giving the ordinary satisfaction of a nobleman, and Ottavio resolves to deliver him over to justice, taking upon himself the risk of encountering so bold and formidable an adversary. As he turns to depart his thoughts naturally turn to Donna Anna, who has left the scene after the sestet, and he entreats his friends to console her during his absence, until he shall return with the tidings of a completed revenge. This feeling is natural and true, and the air (Act II., 8) expressing it is in every way appropriate.

His appeal for the consolation of Donna Anna is made in one of the loveliest cantilene which has ever been written for a tenor voice; but the second part is not quite on the DON GIOVANNI. same level. Mozart has rightly refrained from expressing the desire for revenge in a grand heroic movement, which would have introduced a false tone, but has limited it to a middle movement, rendered characteristic mainly by the rapid and forcible motion of the orchestra. The purely musical effect of this part is excellent, but the voice part has not force or brilliancy proportionate to the sweetness and fulness which it has just displayed. The idiosyncracies of the singer Baglione may, in some degree, have occasioned this treatment; he was specially celebrated for his artistic and finished delivery. 177

The course of the plot justifies Don Ottavio in his conduct towards Don Giovanni, and when the reprobate has been called before a higher than any earthly tribunal, Ottavio claims Donna Anna's hand, not as a tender lover, but as a faithful protector summoned by fate to her side. Donna Anna's postponement of their union until the year of mourning for her father shall have expired is a realistic trait, and reflects the ordinary rules of society and mode of thought then in vogue too faithfully to be at all poetic. But there can be no doubt of the intention to represent the love of Donna Anna and Don Ottavio as deep and sincere; and it argues a misapprehension of tragic ideality to consider the postponement either as an excuse to conceal her aversion to her lover, or as the result of her determination to renounce earthly love and seek refuge in a convent or the grave. 178 It is to the disadvantage of Don Ottavio, however, that he is made to re-enter and entreat Donna Anna to consent to an immediate union, without any previous intimation that he has carried out his design of bringing Don Giovanni to justice. This is uncalled for, and shows him in the light of an amorous weakling destitute of energy. 179 The scene was probably inserted later in order to separate the DONNA ANNA—OTTAVIO. churchyard scene from the supper, and chiefly, no doubt, to supply Donna Anna with another air; the characterisation of Don Ottavio and the natural progress of the plot are sacrificed to these objects. On the other hand, the air itself (Act II., 10) is a grateful task for the singer; and affords important aid to the musical-dramatic characterisation of Donna Anna. Hitherto grief and revenge have inspired her utterances; her affection to Don Ottavio has been indicated by her intrusting to him her most sacred interests and duties. Here, at last, her love breaks forth without reserve, and although she still rejects his petition, it is with a maidenly coyness and an expression of regret which add a new and individual interest to her character. The air is introduced by a recitative, and consists of two independent movements in different tempi. In form and treatment, especially in the employment of wind instruments almost solo, and in the bravura voice passages, it more closely resembles the traditional Italian aria than any other of the original songs in Don Giovanni; but, in spite of this, it renders important service to the characterisation. 180 The regularity of the musical form corresponds very well to the refined and not only noble but well-bred demeanour of Donna Anna. Deep and sincere emotion is expressed with maidenly tenderness, infused with just the tinge of melancholy which invests the whole representation of her character.

The characters which have been occupying our attention are so accurately and minutely delineated, and every detail is so admirably blended into the conception of the whole, that though a comparison with "Figaro" may doubtless show many superficial points of resemblance, a closer examination reveals the complete independence of the two works. No one figure resembles another even distantly; each has its own life, its own individuality, preserved in the minutest particulars, as well as in the general conception. Not less remarkable than this is the art with which the different DON GIOVANNI. elements, in all their force of energy and truth, are combined into an harmonious and comprehensive whole.

As regards the dramatic force and reality of the situations, especially in the ensembles, "Figaro" has the advantage over "Don Giovanni." The introduction to the first act is admirably planned, both musically and dramatically; in the quartet (Act I., 8) and terzet (Act II., 2) the situation and prevailing tone are simple, but well chosen and sustained; and the idea of giving Don Giovanni and Leporello a share in Elvira's first air (Act I., 3), is productive of excellent effect. The sestet (Act II., 6), on the other hand, is very loosely put together; the characters are grouped round Leporello suitably enough, it is true, but their encounter is not the natural result of the situation, and the climax is a purely external one. The finales in "Don Giovanni" are indeed far superior to the ordinary run, which even in good operas often consist of loosely strung scenes which might just as well be spoken as sung, but they are inferior to the well-combined, consistent* development of the plot which delights us in the finales in "Figaro." The first finale begins in lively style with the quarrel between Masetto, whose jealously is newly awakened, and the terrified Zerlina, who seeks to avoid an outbreak. The insidious ever-recurring motif for both voice and orchestra—[See Page Image]

in contrast with the quickly uttered notes and sharp accents of anger, is highly expressive of suspicion. Suggestive in another way are the beating notes for the trumpets—

which are interposed in Masetto's speech, and afterwards taken up by the flutes— FIRST FINALE. when Zerlina asserts herself, rising gradually to impatient quavers for the violin—[See Page Image]

while the principal subject pursues its quiet course. They are interrupted by the noisy merriment of Don Giovanni and his companions, who are repairing to the merry-making in the casino; the gradual dying away of the song of the retreating guests prepares us for the singularly tender and lovely scene between Zerlina and Don Giovanni, which, contrasted with the preceding duet with Masetto, first clearly shows the dangerous fascination of the seducer. After the inimitably expressed start of surprise at Masetto's reappearance the music alters altogether in character, and Don Giovanni assumes a cordial hospitality and cheerful gaiety which is partly accounted for by the sound of the dance music from the casino; this is made also a musical prophecy of what is to ensue, for the eight bars that are heard are taken from the second of the dances afterwards combined, and Mozart has omitted the two first bars, in order to put the hearer at once in the midst of the dance (Vol. II., p. 154 note). A lively figure for the violin expresses the desire of the three to join in the merriment. The figure is continued when Elvira, Donna Anna, and Don Ottavio appear, and several accompaniment figures are also retained, with important modifications. The minor key for the first time occurring, and the totally different treatment of the orchestra give an impression of a mysterious and gloomy shadow cast upon the noisy merriment of the scene. Leporello, opening a window by chance, sees the masks, and is ordered by his master to invite them to enter. The open window causes the dance music to be more plainly heard, and prepares for what is to follow; this time a minuet is played, which is heard entire, for as long as the window remains open the orchestra is silent, and conversation is carried on parlando. The unusual treatment of this scene prepares the way for the ball; but it is quite as consistent with the adagio which intervenes with surprising and profound effect.

DON GIOVANNI.

The grave and elevated tone betokening the presence of higher moral forces is additionally impressive after the unquiet, passionate activity which precedes it. For the first time in this finale the voices put forth all their power and beauty, and they receive powerful assistance from the accompanying wind instruments. The voices seem to stand out from the dark background of the peculiarly deep notes of the clarinets, but the chords which follow are like gleams of light cast upon them, and the whole movement appears transfigured in the glory of a higher region. The scene changes, as was not unusual in finales, and we find ourselves in the ball-room. The dance ended, the guests disperse for refreshment, and Don Giovanni and Leporello, as hosts, Zerlina unable to escape Don Giovanni's observation, and Masetto, jealously watching her, come to the front. The orchestra plays the principal part in the lively movement, 6-8, which portrays this situation. Rhythm, melodies, and instrumental colouring, all are stamped with voluptuous excitement, and we seem to breathe the heated air of the ball-room. The voices move freely, either joining in the orchestral subjects or going their own way in easy parlando or prominent melodies, grouped according to the requirements of the situation. The entrance of the masks gives, as has already been observed, a different tone to the scene; the stranger guests are courteously greeted, and Don Giovanni's summons to the dance places fully before the spectators the ball-room scene, which has so often been suggested. The real motive of the scene being musical, the dramatic representation is skilfully made the object of the musical construction.

The company is a mixed one, and different dances are arranged to suit the taste of all; thus also Don Giovanni is provided with the means of freeing himself of those persons who come in the way of his design. His distinguished guests tread a minuet, he himself joins in the country dance with Zerlina, while Leporello whirls Masetto in the giddy waltz. The musical representation of the situation in the three different dances is thus made the chief point of the scene, the plot moving rapidly onward; none of the characters DANCES. are in a position to express themselves fully, and the dance alone preserves the continuity of the whole. The combination of three dances simultaneously in varied rhythm and expression, offered to Mozart a task in counterpoint which he has accomplished with so much ease and certainty, that the untechnical listener scarcely believes in its difficulty. The arithmetical calculation that three bars in 2-4 are equal to two bars in 3-4, and one bar 3-8 represents a crotchet in a triplet, is easily made, and the system presents no difficulty. But the problem really consists in concealing the system beneath the melody and rhythm, and in causing the necessary coincidence of the phrasing to appear a natural and unstudied one, dependent on the individual character of each dance. One dance follows another as a matter of course. The minuet begins—the same which has been heard before. At the repetition of the second part, the second orchestra prepares to strike up, the open strings are struck in fifths, touched pizzicato, and little shakes tried, the violoncello joins in in the same way—and all falls naturally into the minuet, as it pursues its even course. 181 At last a gay country dance (2-4) strikes up, as different in melody and rhythm from the minuet as can be, although it is of course constructed on the same fundamental bass. At the second part, the third orchestra proceeds to tune up as the second had done before, and falls in with a fresh and merry waltz (3-8). 182 Before the minuet recommences, Zerlina's cry for help is heard, both dances and music break off suddenly, and the orchestra, which has hitherto been silent, strikes in with full force. 183 Zerlina's cry for help brings about a complete change of DON GIOVANNI. mood and tone. All present, except Don Giovanni and Leporello, are inspired by one sentiment, and form a compact and solid mass opposing the two, either in unison or by means of a purely harmonious treatment of the voices. Only pit particular points, such as the unmasking, do the different characters stand out, and the imitation by means of which the parts are again united emphasises the impression of strict connection between them. This kind of grouping requires a broad, grand treatment, and a more forcible one both for the voices and the orchestra. Mozart has nevertheless happily avoided the adoption of a tragic tone, which would have been unsuited to the situation. The case is not, after all, too grave to allow of Don Giovanni and Leporello expressing their confusion and dismay comically, after their manner, and the humorous character of the opera is thereby preserved. 184 Still more simple is the construction of the second finale. The introduction of table music taken from different operas renders the supper scene a very masterpiece of musical fun; but the episode has no direct connection with the action. 185 This begins with the entrance of Elvira, with a gravity and an impulse which have been wanting since the beginning of the opera. In opposition to Elvira's glowing passion, to which her higher resolves lend nobler impulse than before, so that even Leporello is carried away by her energy, Don Giovanni's sensuality stands out in stronger relief, until it outrages man's noblest and most sacred feelings; the contradiction develops a depth of pathos THE SECOND FINALE. which prepares for the approaching catastrophe. The force and fulness of musical expression in this scene are as remarkable as the deep truth of its characterisation. Compare the passionate expressions of Donna Anna with this outbreak of Elvira, and the fundamental difference of the two characters is clear; so also it is plain that, inimical to each other as they may be, Elvira and Don Giovanni are creatures of the same mould, having the same easily excited sensual impulses. Leporello's terror-stricken announcement of the Commendatore's approach comes as a relief to this highly wrought scene. In point of fact, the comic tone increases the suspense more than even Elvira's piercing cry; ludicrous as is the fear of Leporello, the main impression it produces is one of horror at its cause. The first fear-struck tones of the orchestra, collecting their forces for what is to come, the first simple, firm tones of the spectre's voice 186 transport us to the sphere of the marvellous. This sense of the supernatural is preserved by Mozart throughout the scene, and the hearer seems to himself to be standing in breathless suspense at the very verge of the abyss. It is produced by an uninterrupted climax of characteristically shaded movement; and the object which the master has kept steadily before him has been to produce at every point the expression of a grandeur and sublimity surpassing that of earth. To accomplish this, external means, such as the disposition of harmonies and instrumental colouring are employed with equal boldness and skill, but the true conditions of its extra-ordinary effect are the high conception and powerful inspiration which animate the whole. When to this it is added that Don Giovanni and Leporello, although under the spell of the supernatural apparition, act freely, each according to his individual nature, without for an instant prejudicing the unity of tone, it must be acknowledged that the union of dramatic truth and lofty ideal is here complete. After this prolonged and painful suspense the breaking of the storm DON GIOVANNI. which is to deliver Don Giovanni into the power of the internal spirits comes as a long-expected catastrophe. The spirits themselves Mozart has wisely kept in the background. Invisible in the darkness, they summon their victim in few, monotonous, but appalling notes. This allows of a more animated expression to the torture of despair which seizes Don Giovanni, and to the terror of Leporello; while the orchestra depicts the tumult of all the powers of nature. This scene can only attain to its full effect when theatrical managers can make up their minds to allow the music to work on the imagination and feeling of the audience, unimpeded by a display of fireworks and demoniac masks. 187 This finale, after all that has preceded it, does not certainly produce a calming effect, but it relieves the suspense, and virtually brings the plot to an end. The entrance of the other characters to learn the fate of Don Giovanni from Leporello, and to satisfy the audience as to their own fate, is chiefly a concession to the custom of assembling all the chief persons on the stage at the close of the opera, which in this case seems justified by the necessity of concluding with a composing and moral impression. It is not, however, the true close of the plot, and the audience have already been quite sufficiently informed as to the fate of the characters.

Regarded from a musical point of view, Leporello's narrative—interrupted by exclamations of astonishment from the others—is very fresh and spirited, and the surprise well and delicately expressed; the movement would be most effective in another place, but here it falls decidedly flat. The larghetto in which the duet between Don Ottavio and Donna Anna, with the short remarks of the others, is brought to a close is lovely, but not so weighty in substance as the situation demands. The closing movement is very fine, and Mozart has imparted such a clear and tender radiance to the church-music sort of form in which he has embodied the moral maxims, that a flush like that of dawn seems to rise THE SECOND FINALE. from the gloomy horror which has buried the gay life of the drama in deepest night. It was soon felt that to preserve the interest of the audience after the spirit scene was impossible. An attempt at abbreviation was annexed to the original score, omitting the larghetto so far as it referred to personal circumstances. Whether this experiment was made in Prague or Vienna, 188 it appears not to have sufficed, and at the performance in Vienna the opera closed, as it almost invariably has later, with Don Giovanni's descent into the lower regions. At his fall all the characters enter and give a cry of horror, which is inserted in the score on the chord of D major. A few attempts have been made later, either on theoretical or practical grounds, to restore the original closing scene. 189 Attempts at a modification such as have been made are very objectionable. At a performance in Paris Don Giovanni's disappearance was followed by the entry of Donna Anna's corpse borne by mourners, and the chanting of the "Dies iræ" from Mozart's Requiem. 190 This idea suggested to Kugler 191 the further one of changing the scene after Don Giovanni's fall to the mausoleum of the Commendatore, and introducing the funeral ceremonies, the chorus singing from Mozart's Re-queim, "Lux perpetua luceat ei" (not eis, "because it is only for one person"), "Domine, cum sanctis tuis quia pius es," to be followed by the "Osanna in excelsis" as an appropriate conclusion. It is as difficult to comprehend how these two movements can be thus combined, as how reverence for the master can allow of his sacred music being thus tacked on to an opera without any regard to unity of style and workmanship. Viol, supported by Wolzogen, adopted this idea so far as, instead of the usual conclusion, to insert the funeral service in the mausoleum, and have the closing movement of the opera sung there; but it appears DON GIOVANNI. altogether out of place. Nothing can be more objectionable than to make use of separate parts of a work of art in a different sense to that intended by the master; omission is, on the whole, a less hurtful proceeding.

A consideration of the finale proves what is borne out by the whole opera, that, though inferior in artistic unity of plot to "Figaro," it excels that work in the musical nature of its situations and moods. In "Figaro" we are amazed to find how, within the narrow limits of emotion presented to us, seldom rising to passion, never to a higher pathos, our minds are entranced by the grace and spirit of the representation. In "Don Giovanni," on the contrary, there is scarcely a side of human nature which is not expressed in the most varied shades of individuality and situation; through the checkered scenes of daily life we are led to the very gates of the spirit world, and the light of original wit and humour shines upon the work from beginning to end. The difficulty for a dramatically gifted author lay in moderation. Da Ponte having placed his "Don Giovanni" in the present, Mozart with ready wit draws upon reality where-ever possible for matters of detail and colouring. This freshness and fulness of realism distinguishes "Don Giovanni" from "Figaro," without entailing any loss of ideality, for every subject drawn from real life is turned to the service of the artistic conception of the whole. The statues of the Parthenon or the figures of Raphael teach how the great masters of the formative arts follow nature in all and each of their creations; they teach, too, how the treasure which the eye of genius descries in the depths of nature must be first received into a human heart, thence to emerge as a complete and self-contained whole, appealing to the sympathies of all mankind. Nor is it otherwise with the great masters of sound, whatever be the impulse which urges them to expression, whether the words of the poet, the experiences of life, the impressions of form, colour, or sound;

the idea of the whole, which inspires it with life and endows it with form and meaning, must come from the depths of his own spirit, and is the creative force, which is unceasingly active until the perfect work of art is produced. The ideal of such a work is the perfection which is conceivable and visible to mankind in art alone; in it that which elsewhere appears as contrast or opposition rises to the highest unity. This once attained, we experience the satisfaction which for mortals exists in art alone. But our delight and admiration rise still higher when this harmony is maintained throughout a varied and many-sided composition, containing a wealth of interests and motives appealing to our most opposite sympathies, and stirring the very depths of our being—then it is that we feel the full and immediate inspiration of that Spirit Who looks upon the universe as the artist looks upon his work.