f
occasionally speaking, not singing, a few words; and here, where
Elisabeth, in despair, says, "Er kehret nicht zurueck," Wagner gives
her notes that can be either spoken or sung, and certainly are most
effective when spoken. The part, by the way, was not "created" by the
Schroeder-Devrient, but by Johanna Wagner, the daughter of that brother
Albert who had given him his first post in a theatre. I have nothing
further to say about the Prayer, nor about the "Star of Eve" song. As
night gathers over the autumn scene and Tannhaeuser enters, the music
at once leaps to life. Not that we have not heard some very lovely
things, notably a quotation in the orchestra from one of Wolfram's
competition songs; the star shines out, and Wolfram, his harp now
silent, sits gazing dreamily up in the direction Elisabeth has taken
homeward to die. But now we get a renewal of the furious energy of the
tournament scene. As Tannhaeuser declares his intention of returning to
Venus, the music crackles and roars for a moment; then it subsides to
broken phrases of utter despair as he describes his journey to Rome.
The Dresden Amen accompanies him at first with ethereal effect, and
afterwards with the utmost grandeur, as he tells how he knelt before
the Rood to pray--in a few bars every aspect of St. Peter's is brought
to our minds, and the atmosphere and colour. Wagner himself never
surpassed the declamatory passage of the pope's curse. Bach and Mozart
knew how to write recitative, but they rarely attempted to fill it
with anything approaching the intensity of meaning with which this
terrible recitative is filled. Then, again, the music boils, and with
unearthly effects the themes from the Hoerselberg scene sound out, now
from behind the scenes, now from the orchestra; the thing grows madder
and more mad, until suddenly Wolfram perceives the bier bearing
Elisabeth being carried down. "Elisabeth!" he cries, and a requiem is
heard from behind the scenes. As a stage effect I know only one thing
to match it. In _Hamlet_ the hero has been philosophizing to his
heart's content, when a funeral procession approaches--

_Hamlet_: What, the fair Ophelia?

_Queen_: Sweets to the sweet, farewell....

Every one knows the magic of that stroke: the abrupt change of key,
the instant disappearance of bitterness, and the introduction of
pathos and pure beauty; so here the Venusberg music disappears like a
flame that is blown out. "Elisabeth!" Tannhaeus