100 Great Operas and Their Stories: Act-By-Act Synopses (61 page)

ACT I

At Gaza the Israelites are in bondage to the Philistines, and even before the curtain rises, they are heard bewailing their misfortunes. On a square in the city, early in the morning, they are gathered, and Samson tries to arouse them to active resistance. They are slow to take fire, but are finally roused to such enthusiasm that Abimelech, Satrap of Gaza, comes with his bodyguard to see what the matter is. His taunts and his invitation to abandon Jehovah in favor of Dagon boomerangs. Samson rouses the Israelites to still stronger feelings of revolt with his vigorous call to revolution
(Israel, burst your bonds);
whereupon Abimelech attacks him; Samson wrenches away the Satrap’s sword and slays him; and the whole band scatters into the city to make good the rebellion.

The doors of the temple open, and out comes the High Priest with his attendants. In solemn tones he curses Samson. Yet he cannot bring courage that way to the terror-struck Philistines; and when the Israelites return, High Priest and all make good their escape.

It is Samson’s great hour of triumph. Yet, in that very moment, the seductive priestess Delilah issues forth from the Temple of Dagon with her almost equally seductive young ladies’ chorus of attendants. They greet the triumphant hero, bringing him garlands, singing a song of spring and dancing enticingly. Delilah tells him that he already reigns in her heart, and, taking the cue from her maidens, also sings a ravishing aria about the spring
(Printemps qui commence
—“The spring is beginning”). One of the old Hebrews warns Samson; but the young hero, who already has a reputation for being quickly attracted by feminine beauty, is utterly fascinated by Delilah.

ACT II

It is going to be a dark and stormy night in the vale of Sorek, but the short prelude to Act II establishes the fact, as well as music can, that the late afternoon is fine. Delilah, clad as seductively as the decencies of grand opera permit, is waiting,
in her luxuriant Oriental garden, for her lover. She hates him as an enemy of her people, and in a powerful aria
(Amour! viens aider ma faiblesse!)
she prays that the god of love may help her to render him powerless.

The High Priest comes to her to tell her that things have gone from bad to worse, for the Hebrews, once slaves, are now terrorizing their former masters. Knowing something of the psychology of beautiful women, he reports that Samson has been boasting of her lack of success in dominating him. But Delilah hates the man enough already without such spurring; and later on, when he offers her a rich reward if she can wring from him the secret of his strength, she tells him that bribery is not necessary. She has already tried three times; three times she has failed; but this time she swears that she will succeed. Samson, she believes, has become a slave to sexual passion; and the two sing a duet of triumph over the anticipated victory.

Now a storm starts brewing. The High Priest leaves, and Delilah awaits Samson impatiently. When he finally stumbles in through the growing darkness, he mutters to himself that he has come only to break off with Delilah. He had not reckoned with her determination or her woman’s wiles, which include not only love-making but also sentimental references to past pleasures, anger, and tears. As she sees him beginning to weaken, she sings the famous aria
Mon coeur s’ouvre à ta voix
(usually translated “My heart at thy sweet voice”). Heard as a concert aria it is far less effective than in the opera, for Samson’s passionate avowal of love at the end of each stanza is tamely given over to the mezzo.

Once again Delilah asks for the secret of his great strength, and once again Samson refuses to reveal it. But when Delilah finally repels him, calls him coward
(“Lâche!”)
, and rushes off into the house, Samson is distraught. With the storm raging about him, he raises his hands in despair and slowly follows her inside.

Everyone knows, from the Bible story, what happens inside to Samson and to his hair. On-stage, there is a clap of thunder; then a troop of Philistine soldiers sneaks in and silently surrounds
the house. Suddenly Delilah appears at the window and calls for help. Samson’s voice is heard shouting that he has been betrayed, and the soldiers rush in to take him captive.

ACT III

Scene 1
Bereft of their powerful leader, the Hebrews have been conquered, and a chorus of them, in an off-stage prison, complains bitterly that Samson has betrayed the god of his fathers. On-stage, the blinded Samson is turning the millstone to which his captors have chained him in the prison yard. In an agony of despair he calls upon Jehovah to take his life so that he may atone for his people’s misery. Relentlessly the off-stage chorus continues its denunciation of him. Finally, his jailers lead him away.

Scene 2
In the Temple of Dagon the Philistines are working themselves up into an orgy of worship before a huge statue of their god. The dancing girls sing the victory chorus they had offered, in Act I, to Samson. The ballet performs the
Bacchanale
.

When Samson is led in by a little child, they turn on him in mockery. Delilah takes especial delight in triumphing over him; and the High Priest, with exquisite taste, offers to turn Jew if Jehovah will be so good as to restore Samson’s sight. Samson, turning his sightless eyes upward, prays that the Lord of Hosts may avenge such monstrous impiety.

But now the serious part of the sacrificial ceremony begins. Libations are poured before the statue; the altar begins to flame; and as a climax, Samson is to be made to kneel to Dagon. Amid the triumphant singing of the Philistines, the child leads Samson between the two great pillars where he is to make obeisance. Quietly the huge man tells the boy to leave the temple, as the invocation to Dagon rises louder and louder. Finally, Samson grips the two pillars, prays aloud for a last show of strength, and with a shout starts the pillars swaying. The Philistine mob screams in terror and tries to rush from the hall. It is too late: the whole temple crashes down destroying everyone in it, including Samson and Delilah.

THE SECRET OF SUZANNE

(Il segreto di Susanna)

Intermezzo in one act by Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari
with libretto in Italian by Enrico
Golisciani

Time: early 20th century

Place: Piedmont

First performance at Munich (in German), December 4, 1909

    Of all of Wolf-Ferrari’s dozen operas this delicate gem is the sturdiest—that
is
, if we may measure sturdiness by frequency of performance. It requires the services of only two singers and a silent actor; it can be done with the simplest of sets; it can serve as a curtain-raiser for a major work or as an intermezzo between two shorter ones. In fact, its nature is that of the early Italian
intermezzo
. The older
intermezzo
was usually a comic scene between a soprano and a bass thrown in between the more serious business of a tragedy. Much of the comedy was spoken, and it was customary for the audience not to pay too much attention. The comedy of
The Secret of Suzanne
, however, is set to music throughout and is easily worth the delighted attention of everyone within hearing distance.

The overture, often played as a separate concert piece, is admirably suited to set the emotional pace with its light, bustling, tuneful inconsequentiality.

The action takes place some fifty or more years ago, when
nice young women in the upper classes seldom did either of two things—go out in the streets alone, and smoke. But our pretty newlywed, Countess Suzanne, has combined these sins just before the curtain rises by going to the neighborhood tobacconist and purchasing a package of cigarettes. Her husband, who enters the living room of his comfortable home when the curtain rises, has just seen her do this and cannot believe his eyes: it must have been another woman wearing a similar costume. He goes to his own room, and a moment later Suzanne enters wearing precisely the costume he has described, and carrying a wrapped-up little package. This she gives to Sante, the mute servant, and then retires to her own room. And so, when Count Gil returns and listens at her door, he is relieved to think that she has been home all the time. However, he is almost certain that he has detected the odor of tobacco, and his tentative conclusion is that Suzanne must have an admirer. He questions Sante whether he himself smokes and also whether Suzanne does. Both questions are answered by the mute with a negative shake of the head.

When Suzanne enters, he tries to continue the questioning. She looks sad; he asks why; she says it is the first time he has been unkind to her; and the difficulty is temporarily obliterated in the cordial sentiments of a love duet. But the personal proximity with which it closes gives him another whiff of dame nicotine, and he is jealous all over again. Now she believes that he must know of her secret vice, and innocently she suggests that he go to his club, shutting his eyes conveniently, as all reasonable husbands do. Putting a completely different construction on her speech, he works himself up into a fury, throws vases about the room, and drives her out of it for a good, comfortable cry.

Utterly grief-stricken, he throws himself into an easy chair, and this gives the composer a chance to write a charming intermezzo while Sante clears up the debris. Suzanne then comes out, gives him his hat, gloves, and umbrella, and urges him to go to the club. And in a brief little aria
(Via, così non mi lasciate
—“You’re not going to leave me like this, are you?”)
she begs for a little show of affection, which he delivers in the shape of a stiff peck on the forehead.

Considerably relieved, Suzanne lights one of the wicked little weeds and just has time to put it out before Gil returns, looks for an unwanted visitor, and finds nothing but more traces of tobacco odor. Once more he works himself up into a jealous rage; once more he leaves; once more Suzanne lights up. This time, however, Gil remains away long enough for her to sing a pleasant aria in praise of smoking (
O gioia, la nube leggiera
).

At last she is fortunately caught. Gil suddenly makes a reappearance through the window, sees what she is vainly trying to hide behind her back, and is enormously relieved. So relieved, in fact, that he joins her in the petty vice, and they smoke, dance, and sing together, utterly in love.

As they depart together for her room, old Sante cleans up the room once more, looking very wise and very much pleased with himself and his employers.

LA SERVA PADRONA

(The Servant Mistress)

Opera buffa
in one act by Giovanni Battista
Pergolesi with libretto in Italian by Gennaro
Antonio Federico

Time: 18th century

Place: Naples

First performance at Naples, August 28, 1733

    Between the acts of those frightfully formalized eighteenth-century entertainments known as
opera seria,
^*
it was common practice to relieve the monotony of high-mindedness with
intermezzi
^†
short, low-comedy musical acts calling for the services of two singers—a soprano and a bass—and often a silent actor.
La serva padrona
was written to serve as
intermezzi
for the composer’s three-act
Il prigionier superbo
(“The Proud Prisoner”), a run-of-the-mill
opera seria
calling for the services of a castrated male soprano in the leading feminine part and a genuine female contralto in the role of the King of the Goths. Like the five other
opere serie
that Pergolesi composed during his four-year career as opera writer,
Il prigionier
was a failure. But
La serva padrona
was a huge success, for the two intermission pieces added up to a neat little story.
They could be—and were later on—played as a one-act comedy; the tunes were simple and gay; the action and characters, while stemming directly from eighteenth-century comedy, were not only understandable but almost realistic. Thus was born the form known as
opera buffa
, which has had a long and honorable history; and its classic exemplar,
La serva padrona
, has had a career equally honorable and equally long. (Strictly speaking, perhaps, the form was born five years earlier with Johann Adolf Hasse’s
La contadina
, the first
intermezzo
to be based on a real play. But Pergolesi’s little work was the first one to receive wide circulation.)—

Pergolesi died in 1736 at the age of twenty-six, and so he never knew that a dozen years later, when an Italian troupe put on his little work in Paris, it created an opera war known as
La guerre des bouffons
. The vastly respected Rameau and Lully were then composing stately works which earned the disrespect of such advanced intellectuals as Rousseau and Diderot.
La serva padrona
gave them the ammunition for attacking the formal musical entertainments favored by the King, while the Queen favored the musical insurrectionists. Among the results of this war were no fewer than sixty polemical pamphlets on the subject, a successful
opera buffa
composed by Rousseau himself and called
Le devin du village
(which became the model for
Bastien und Bastienne
by Mozart—see
this page
), and almost two hundred performances of Pergolesi’s masterpiece.