l forced to take
frequent breath and disguise the stoppage as cleverly as he could. The
first scene contains many of Wagner's most inspired melodies, notably
the despairing song of Venus towards the end, a tune that might have
come from Schubert. The old Weber influence is to be seen in the
contours of many of the themes, as well as their orchestral colour; and
the steadfast four-bar rhythm reminds one, in spite of the difference of
subject, irresistibly of _Euryanthe_. It was not until the _Tristan_
period that Wagner got rid of this. In the second scene of the first act
we find all the musical machinery of old-fashioned opera, but used with
a mastery that leaves the _Dutchman_ far behind. There is first the
shepherd's delightfully fresh song, in wonderful contrast to the scents
and stifling heat of the Venus cave music; then comes the Pilgrims'
Chorus; then come Tannhaeuser's friends with at least one number,
Wolfram's appeal, which is distinct and separate from the rest of the
music as a goldfish is from the water it swims in. The act ends with a
regular set finale, altogether on the old models.

The second act opens with Elisabeth's _scena;_ then follow her duet with
Tannhaeuser, the march and chorus as the company troop in to hear the
contest of minstrels, the various songs, Tannhaeuser's fatal mistake,
Elisabeth's intercession for him, the voices of the pilgrims setting out
for Rome, and Tannhaeuser's rush to overtake them. No use is made of the
_leit-motif;_ only when Tannhaeuser loses his wits and sings in praise of
Venus do we get reminiscences of the Venusberg music. In the third act
the structure is the same. Number flows into number, it is true, without
full-closes--without full-stops, so to speak; but those who have never
before heard a note of Wagner can follow as easily as they could a Gluck
or Mozart opera. The Pilgrims' Chorus occurs again, and again we have
the Venus music, when Tannhaeuser, demented, sees her in the heart of the
mountain and hears her calling him.

In 1845 _Tannhaeuser_ was produced. When the score was published--those
quaint lithographed scores: I believe some of them still exist in the
British Museum--Schumann got it, and seemed to like it, since he showed
it as a treasure to Hanslick, a musical critic of Vienna. Mendelssohn
also liked a canon in the second act--Mendelssohn, who ought to have
understood and loved the picturesque in it better than anyone. All
fantastic dreams of ano