ghter. Valentine contrives to warn Marcel, Raoul's old
servant, of this, and he assembles his Huguenot comrades hard by, who
rush in at the first clash of steel and join the combat. The fight is
interrupted by the entrance of the Queen. When she finds out who are the
principal combatants, she reproves them sharply and tells Raoul the real
story of Valentine's visit to Nevers. The act ends with the marriage
festivities, while Raoul is torn by an agony of love and remorse.

In the next act Raoul contrives to gain admittance to Nevers' house, and
there has an interview with Valentine. They are interrupted by the
entrance of Saint Bris and his followers, whereupon Valentine conceals
Raoul behind the arras. From his place of concealment he hears Saint
Bris unfold the plan of the massacre of Saint Bartholomew, which is to
be carried out that night. The conspirators swear a solemn oath to
exterminate the Huguenots, and their daggers are consecrated by
attendant priests. Nevers alone refuses to take part in the butchery.
When they all have left, Raoul comes out of his hiding-place, and in
spite of the prayers and protestations of Valentine, leaps from the
window at the sound of the fatal tocsin, and hastens to join his
friends. In the last act, which is rarely performed in England, Raoul
first warns Henry of Navarre and the Huguenot nobles, assembled at the
Hotel de Sens, of the massacre, and then joins the _melee_ in the
streets. Valentine has followed him, and after vainly endeavouring to
make him don the white scarf which is worn that night by all Catholics,
she throws in her lot with his, and dies in his arms, after they have
been solemnly joined in wedlock by the wounded and dying Marcel.

'Les Huguenots' shows Meyerbeer at his best Even Wagner, his bitterest
enemy, admitted the dramatic power of the great duet in the fourth act,
and several other scenes are scarcely inferior to it in sustained
inspiration. The opera is marred as a whole by Meyerbeer's invincible
self-consciousness. He seldom had the courage to give his genius full
play. He never lost sight of his audience, and wrote what he thought
would be effective rather than what he knew was right. Thus his finest
moments are marred by lapses from sincerity into the commonplace
conventionality of the day. Yet the dignity and power of 'Les Huguenots'
are undeniable, and it is unfortunate that its excessive length should
prevent it from ever being heard in its entirety.