hat allotted to the solo singers. But the
chorus had already been used effectively by Gluck and other composers;
it is in his solo concerted music that Mozart forges ahead of all
possible rivals. The power which he shows of contrasting the conflicting
emotions of his characters in elaborate concerted movements was
something really new to the stage. The one quartet in Handel's
'Radamisto' and the one trio in his 'Alcina,' magnificent as they are,
are too exceptional in their occurrence to be quoted as instances, while
the attempts of Rameau and his followers to impose dramatic significance
into their concerted music, though technically interesting, do but
faintly foreshadow the glory of Mozart. The orchestration of 'Idomeneo,'
too, is something of the nature of a revelation. At Munich, Mozart had
at his disposal an excellent and well-trained band, and this may go far
to explain the elaborate care which he bestowed upon the instrumental
side of his opera. The colouring of the score is sublime in conception
and brilliant in detail. Even now it well repays the closest and most
intimate study. 'Idomeneo' is practically the foundation of all modern
orchestration.

Mozart's next work was very different both in scope and execution. It
has already been pointed out that the two first works which the
composer, as a child, wrote for the stage, followed respectively the
Italian and German models. Similarly, he signalised his arrival at the
full maturity of his powers by producing an Italian and German
masterpiece side by side. 'Die Entfuehrung aus dem Serail' was written
for the Court Theatre at Vienna, in response to a special command of the
Emperor Joseph II. It was produced on July 13, 1782. The original
libretto was the work of C.F. Bretzner, but Mozart introduced so many
alterations and improvements into the fabric of the story that, as it
stands, much of it is practically his own work.

The Pasha Selim has carried off a Christian damsel named Constanze, whom
he keeps in close confinement in his seraglio, in the hope that she may
consent to be his wife. Belmont, Constanze's lover, has traced her to
the Pasha's country house with the assistance of Pedrillo, a former
servant of his own, now the Pasha's slave and chief gardener. Belmont's
attempts to enter the house are frustrated by Osmin, the surly
major-domo. At last, however, through the good offices of Pedrillo, he
contrives to gain admission in the character of an architect