THE HARMONICON. No. XIV., FEBRUARY, 1824. MEMOIR OF CARL MARIA VON WEBER, Who has, of late, obtained universal celebrity, though a few years ago he was but little known, even in Germany,was born in 1786, or, according to another account, in 1787, at Eutin, a small town in Holstein. His father gave him a most liberal education, and in this he was assisted by his son's very early predilection for the fine arts, particularly painting and music. speculator resumed, with redoubled vigour, his study of composition. While a youth of only fourteen, he wrote the opera Das Waldmüdchen (the Girl of the Wood), which was performed, for the first time, in November, 1800. and received with great applause at Vienna, Prague, and Petersburg. This opera spread, indeed, much further than the composer afterwards wished, considering it as a very immature and juvenile production. The first regular instruction he received on the pianoforte, the instrument on which he has gained such a high An article in the Musikalische Zeitung, excited in the reputation as a player, was from Heuschkel, at Hildburg-young composer the idea of writing in an entirely new hausen, in 1796, and it is to this severe and learned master that Weber owes his energy, distinctness, and execution. The more his father perceived the gradual development of his talents, the more anxious he was to sacrifice every thing to their cultivation he therefore took his son to the famous Michael Haydn*, at Salzburg. Owing to the austere manners of this master, young Weber profited but little by his instructions, though he made great exertions to learn. About this time (1798), he published his first work, Six Fugues in four parts, which are remarkable for their purity and correctness, and received the praise of the Musikalische Zeitung. At the end of that year, Weber went to Munich, where he was taught singing by Valesi, and composition, as well as the piano-forte, by Kalcher. To him he is indebted for a full knowledge of the theory of music, and for a skilful and ready use of all the means it furnishes to the composer. fatigable in his studies than ever, and began to apply himself to one particular branch of the art, in preference to the rest-to operatic music. Under the eyes of his master, he wrote an opera, Die Macht der Liebe und des Weins (the Power of Love and Wine), a Mass, and several other pieces; but all these were judiciously committed to the flames. say, style, and to bring again into use the ancient musical instruments, which then were nearly forgotten. For this purpose he composed, in 1801, at Salzburg, the opera Peter Schmoll and his Neighbours, of which Michael Haydn thus expresses himself in a letter:-" As far as I may pretend to judge, I must truly and candidly say, that this opera not only possesses great power and effect, but is composed according to the strict rules of counterpoint. To spirit and livelmess, the composer has added a high degree of delicacy, and the music is moreover perfectly suited to the meaning of the words." An equally flattering testimony he received from another of his masters, who concludes thus-" urit maturè ut Mozart." During one of his many professional travels with his father, in 1502, to Leipzig, Hamburg, and Holstein, his principal occupation was to collect and study all works on the theory of music, and, prompted by the doubts he Weber was now more inde-entertained as to the correctness of most of them, he commenced studying harmony once more from its very elements, with a view of constructing an entire new system of music. The work entitled Vogler, 12 Chorale, by Sebastian Bach, analyzed by C. M. von Weber, may be considered as the fruit of those researches, and is equally interesting and instructive. Soon after this, Weber, in the fullness of his lively, youthful spirits, entertained an idea of rivalling Sennefelder, of lithographic celebrity, and he went so far as to that the invention was his, and that he used machines more adapted to the purpose. In order to pursue his plan on a grand scale, he removed with his father to Frisberg, in Saxony, where the best materials were most conveniently at hand. The tediousness of so mechanical a business, however, could not fail very soon to tire a mind accustomed to more refined occupations, and the young * Brother to the more celebrated genius. VOL. II. Soon after this, we find him, for the first time, entirely left to himself in the great musical world of Vienna, in the midst of Haydn, Vogler, Stadler, &c. being drawn away from his art by the innumerable amusements of so gay a city, he was, for a considerable period, more deeply engaged than ever, in study with the Abbé Vogler, who was extremely pleased with the earnest and unabated application of his pupil. During all this time, only two of his works-if they merit that name,appeared in print, a Set of Variations, and Vogler's opera Samori, arranged for the piano-forte. After having finished his musical education at Vienna, under Vogler, he was called to Breslau, in the character of Maestro di D Cappella. As he had to form here an entirely new orchestra, and corps of singers, he was furnished with a very favourable opportunity to improve himself in the knowledge of effect. The only work of consequence during his Silesian visit, was the opera of Rübezahl, i. e., Number Nip, of which the ill-famed mountain ghost has furnished the subject. The commencement of the great Prussian war, in 1806, obliged him to quit his post at Breslau, and he entered the service of the Duke Eugene, of Würtemberg. Here he wrote Two Symphonies, several Concertos, and various pieces for wind instruments. He also published, at this time, an improved edition of his opera, The Maid of the Wood, under the title of Silvana; a Cantata (Der erste Ton); some Overtures, for a grand orchestra; and a great many solo pieces, for the piano-forte. to Gretry's Essays on Music, called Künstlerlehren, which promises to be highly interesting. His Freischütz, the the words by Kind, has elevated him, as an opera composer, above all his German contemporaries: since Mozart's Zauberflöte, no other German opera has become so popular, or received such universal applause. The judgment, however, of the public is not a test till time has settled it, and it would be uncandid to apply it as such, at present, to Weber's work. Those who have heard the beautiful national melodies, which are so frequently sung in every part of Germany, by all classes, down to the peasant, the hunter, and the labourer, will agree, that Der Freischütz is not original, at least, so far as melody is concerned. Der Jägerchor, for instance, one of the most favourite airs in the whole opera, has been known in Germany, though perhaps with a slight variation, more In 1810, he set out on another professional tour, upon than fifty years, and the same may be said of many a better concerted plan than before. At Frankfort, Mu- others. The revival and improvement of beautiful annich, and Berlin, his operas were performed with much cient melodies, by so skilful a hand as Weber's, aided by success, and his concerts were well attended. Once more powerful dramatic and scenic effect, which he understands assisted by the experience and knowledge of Vogler, who so well, besides the attraction which so wild and extravahad then two other young artists of great talent with him, gant a story could not fail to produce, have mainly conMeyerbeer and Gäusbacher, he composed the opera Abu-tributed to render the Freischütz popular-Suum cuique! Hassan, at Darmstadt, in 1810. -The critical writers of Germany have justly appreciated the overture as being strikingly appropriate, and indicative of what is to follow. From 1813 to 1816, Weber was Director of the Opera at Prague, which he organized quite anew, and wrote here his great Cantata, Kampf und Sieg, a most imposing composition. After the object of his visit to Prague was fulfilled, he once more travelled without any permanent appointment. Though he received the most handsome offers from all parts of Germany, he did not accept of any, until he was called to Dresden, for the purpose of forming there a German Opera. Such an invitation he could not resist, and it is to this Opera that he has for years devoted, con amore, his whole attention and activity. It is pleasing to observe, that his labours in this department were not only crowned with complete success, but received the most flattering acknowledgment. It would, indeed, have been difficult to find a man more fit for such an undertaking than Weber, who unites so many splendid talents. He is a very original and learned composer, one of the greatest piano-forte players of the present day, and an extremely spirited director of the orchestra. To these he adds a thorough knowledge of the whole theory of music, of dramatic and operatic effect, and the greatest skill in blending the various instruments. Besides which, he is perhaps not excelled by any artist, except by Beethoven, as a man of general knowledge and polite literature. He is still in the capacity of Director of the German Opera at Dresden, but two years ago had leave from his sovereign to produce his opera Der Freischütz, at Berlin; and, in November last, his opera Euryanthe, at Vienna. His works, that have appeared in print, are very numerous: they consist of pieces for various instruments, viz., Concertos, Concertinos, Pot-pourries, for the piano-forte, the clarionet, the hautboy, bassoon, and violoncello; of Sonatas, Variations, Polonoises; of Grand Symphonies, Overtures, and of many Operas, among which the most important are--Silvano, Abu-Hassan, der Freischütz, and Euryanthe. His vocal compositions, in four parts, with accompaniment for the piano-forte, deserve particular notice, and principally the Leier und Schwerdt, by Körner, in which he has shewn his talent for poetry and declamation. He is, at present, engaged in a work similar His last opera, l'Euryanthe, or, as the ardent people of Berlin have named it, l'Ennuyante, was produced in Vienna, last November, and did not succeed. It is too serious, and the subject, by Madame Chezy, is, like most of her stories, feeble and uninteresting. INTRODUCTION OF MOZART'S MUSIC INTO ABOUT the year 1803, the news of the splendid triumphs In 1807, some Italians of distinction, whom Napoleon had taken in his suite, and whom circumstances brought to Munich, fell into conversation about Mozart; the result of which was, that they came to a resolution of trying one of his pieces; the "Entführung dem Serail," I believe. But to do justice to this opera, it was requisite to be a perfect orchestral performer; above all, it was necessary to be an excellent timist, and never to take any liberty with the measure. It was no longer a question of music that can be repeated by rote, or by hearing it sung once or twice over, like the "C'est l'amour," or the "Di tanti palpiti." The Italian performers set to work, but nothing could they make of the ocean of notes that blackened the score of this northern artist. It was necessary that time should be scrupulously observed; that they should start together, and come out at the last note exactly at a given moment. Indolent amateurs would term such scrupulosity mere barbarism; this word was on the point of escaping from their lips, and they were on the very verge of abandoning Mozart for ever. However, certain young men of consideration, who had more pride than vanity, thought that it was ridiculous for Italians to yield on the ground of difficulty. They threatened to withdraw their protection from the theatre, if the German opera, then in rehearsal, was not produced, and at last the work of Mozart was given; but “Heu! quantum mutatus ab illo.” Poor Mozart! many of those who were present at this first representation, and who afterwards learnt to set a just value on the works of this great man, have declared, that a more lamentable massacre could hardly be imagined. The concerted pieces, and particularly the finales, produced a cacophony that was altogether alarming; it seemed as if a pandemonium of evil spirits had broken loose. Two or three airs and a duetto were the only things that floated above the surface of this ocean of discord. The same evening two parties were formed. The patriotism of the ante-chamber, to use the expression of a celebrated critic, that great moral malady of the Italians, was aroused in all its fury, and issued its mandate through all the cafés, that no man born out of Italy would ever be able to compose a good air. The Chevalier M. was heard to pronounce the following sentence in that measured solemnity of tone, which so strongly characterizes him:-Gli accompagnamenti tedeschi non sono guardie d'onore del canto, ma gendarmi *. The other party, headed by two or three young officers who had been at Munich, maintained that there were in Mozart not only different concerted pieces, but two or three little airs and duets, that had genius; and, moreover, even had novelty in them. The sticklers for the national honour had recourse to their grand argument-that a man must be a bad Italian who could admire music made by an ultra-montanist. In the midst of these contests, the representations of Mozart's opera reached their term, the orchestra playing worse and worse every evening. The better sort of people observed: “As the name of Mozart excites such hatred; as people are so desperate in their resolution to prove that he is mediocre; as we see him loaded with reproaches, from which even Nicolini and Pucitta (two of the feeblest composers of the day) have escaped; it is very possible that this stranger may have some genius." This is what was said in the Countess Bianca's box, as well as in those of some of the first people of distinction in the town. I pass over in silence the gross abuse lavished in the public journals; every one knows that these were written by the agents of the police. The cause of Mozart seemed lost, and scandalously lost. However, a noble and rich amateur, one of that class of persons who have no great sense of their own, but who contrive to gain all the credit of it, by adopting every six months some paradox, which they furiously maintain on every occasion-this nobleman, having learnt by a letter from one of his mistresses in Vienna, that Mozart was the first musician in the world, began to talk of it with an air of great mystery. He sent for the six best performers in the town, whom he dazzled by the splendour of his mansion, and amazed by the fracas of his English horses and The German accompaniments are not guards of honour to the air, but gens d'armes. calashes manufactured in London, and at last set them to play over to him, in private, the first finale of "IL Don Giovanni." His palace was immense; he immediately gave up to them a whole range of apartments. He threatened vengeance to any one who should dare utter a word about the business and when a rich man does this in Italy, there is no danger of his not being obeyed. It took the prince's musicians no less than six months before they could play the first finale of " Don Giovanni" in time. Then first they began to see Mozart. The nobleman engaged six singers, whom he bound down to secrecy. After two months' sedulous practice, they were perfect in their parts. After this, the finales and the principal concerted pieces of the opera were rehearsed at his countryhouse, and with all the privacy and caution of conspiracy. He had an ear like all the rest of his countrymen, and found the music admirable. Secure of his object, he began to speak of Mozart with less reserve; he allowed himself to be attacked in various quarters, and at length laid a wager, which did not fail to excite universal interest, and to form the grand topic of conversation through the whole of that part of Lombardy. It was, that he would cause certain pieces of "Don Giovanni" to be executed, and that impartial judges, who were to be chosen upon the spot, should pronounce that Mozart was a composer not inferior to Mayer and Paër, erring like them through an overweening fondness for German noise and racket, but upon the whole as clever as the authors of "Sargine and Cora." The other party were convulsed with laughter; they knew that their good friend was not an Aristarchus, but this wager was the dullest thing he had ever been guilty of. At length the important day arrived. The concert took place at his country-house, the music excited admiration, and he gained his wager without a dissenting voice. This brilliant exploit served him as a topic of conversation long afterwards, and he gained the credit of being less a fool by half than he was thought formerly. This event made a great bustle; Mozart was in every one's mouth, his music was eagerly inquired after, and at last his operas were brought forward. "Don Giovanni" was given in Rome, about 1811: the parts were not sung amiss, but the orchestra was sadly puzzled with this new and difficult music. The time was any thing but correct, the instruments ran along one after the other in a manner very amusing to any one but a good musician; it was like a symphony of Beethoven played by a party of amateurs. In 1814, "Don Giovanni" was given at the Scala, and the success it obtained was incredible. In 1816, the "Flauto Magico," was also attempted, but it fell; however, "Don Giovanni" was resumed, and received with an enthusiasm, little short of extravagance, by every body. But the taste of the Italians always requires novelty; bad new music is, to them, infinitely preferable to the best, if more than two or three years old; and an opera of the great German composer has not been heard in all Italy for many seasons past. STATE OF MUSIC IN SICILY *. MUSIC is not so universal an accomplishment in these Southern regions, as it is usually imagined to be; for that eager desire that prevails in England for excelling From Sicily and its Islands, by Capt. W. H. SMYTH, R. N. 4to with Plates. London, J. Murray, 1824. funeral obsequies of the Rajah. The powerful chorus of the former, contrasted with the more softened and lovely strains of the Bayaderes, (which are interspersed with dances, by the latter) and terminate in a grand hymn to Brahma, form the introduction: yet amidst all this variety, the beauty and unity of an entire whole are admirably preserved. in this acquirement, is here restricted to professional | mins and Bayaderes are assembled to solemnize the people. Their compositions are generally too redundant, compass and execution being more attended to than melody. The guitar is the favourite instrument; and the lower orders are very partial to serenades, in which they sing airs that are often more characteristic, than either their theatrical or sacred music. The songs in the Sicilian dialect, though sometimes of a filthy description, are otherwise sprightly and pleasing; and several of their dances, as the "barubba" and the "tarantella," display some fanciful figures, pleasing changes, and animated evolutions, accompanied by the castanets, or a peculiar snapping of the fingers; degraded, however, by indecent postures. The "barubba" is also called the "Jana tuba," and is peculiar to the season of carnival; those who dance it are strangely dressed, have their faces painted, and exhibit all sorts of contortions imitating savages, to the sound of the drum and trumpet-shell, or "tuba;" in this will immediately be recognised the feast of Janus, which was also celebrated in the winter. The waltz is a great favourite in certain circles; notwithstanding which, I must agree with honest Goëthe, the German, that none but husband and wife can, with any propriety, be partners in this dance. The peasants are fond of noisy instruments; and on many of their festivals, it is not unusual to hear ten or twenty tambourines beating the "tarantella" together, accompanied by violins, guitars, and the mandoline, a kind of small guitar, strung with wire, and played with a quill. They produce very melodious airs on rustic flutes made of reeds; and the mountaineers, who are tolerably expert players on the bagpipes, accompanied by a kind of flageolet, called ciaramela, parade the streets for nine days before Christmas, playing to every image of the Virgin and Child they meet with, and are even called into the houses by the devout, to propitiate their respective idols, corresponding to the lares or household gods of the ancients. NEW OPERA, "THE RAJAH'S WIFE," [From a Foreign Journal.] In this, as in his other works, Spohr, treading closely in the footsteps of Mozart, has proved that dramatic music may be brought into regular forms, without injury either to truth of expression, or theatrical effect. How great a master is Mozart in this respect! What a variety of objects does he unite together in his finales, and yet how admirably has he combined them into one grand, harmonious, and effective whole! How bold are the touches, how strong the colourling he has thrown into some of his characters, and yet without destroying the rhythm, symmetry, and keeping of the whole. The many may rest satisfied with mere force of expression; not so critics of more refined taste. It is time that they make this indispensible requisite in a finished product of art, but they also require something more; they demand that a due proportion of all the parts to the whole, a proper subordination of inferior effects to the great predominent tone of the piece, should be maintained throughout. That this can be done, is sufficiently proved in the productions of these two masters. But by genius alone can this be effected, by that genius which possesses an entire command of all the materials upon which it has to work, of that genius of which it can be truly said, Mens agitat molem. Many composers, however richly gifted by nature in other respects, and however meritorious their compositions, in general want the power to form a consisted and harmonious whole; with them it is unus et alter assinitur pannus. But to return to Jessonda. This solemnity over, the chief Brahmin commands a young priest to announce to the widow Jessonda, the destiny that awaits her. In a recitative and duet which follow, the characters of these two persons are strongly marked; the first has all the wild fanaticism of an old priest, while the other, who has only been forced into the service of Brahma, is impressed with a sense of the barbarity of this custom. This contrast of feeling is powerfully marked in the duet, which is considered as one of the most striking things in the opera. An Indian warrior appears, and announces that the Portuguese army is in motion and advancing towards the city. This awakens anew the deep hatred felt towards these strangers, and gives occasion to a short but powerful air and chorus, in which destruction is threatened, and imprecations called down on the invading foe. After this we are introduced into the apartments of Jessonda; she is overwhelmed with sorrow, but endeavours to console her desolate sister. We learn that she is faithful to her former love, which is announced in an air of great tenderness and pathos. After a short recitative, the finale commences with a scene in dumb show, in which the Bayaderes, by the breaking of staves, rending asunder a veil, and the extinguishing of torches, to the accompaniment of characteristic music, announce her intended sacrifice. The young priest now The overture commences with the subject that is appears as the messenger of death; with averted face, afterwards employed in the scene of the funeral of the and with feelings opposed to the duty, he is obliged to perRajah, and is full of powerful and increasing effect. The form, he declares her doom in a plaintive and monotonous first scene displays the interior of a temple, where Brah-melody, with a slowly-moving accompaniment for the SPOHR has lately produced at Cassel his new grand opera in three acts, entitled Jessonda: or, the Rajah Wife. The story is taken from Lemieres' Veuve du Malabar, and possesses considerable interest and stage effect. The scene is at Goa, on the coast of Malabar, and the outline of the story is as follows:-Jessonda, the young widow of a deceased Rajah, is, after the manner of the country, devoted to the flames. Having been forced to accept the hand of the Rajah, and though she had previously pledged her love to a Portuguese officer, whom the chance of war had thrown upon these shores, she advances reluctantly to meet her fate. The Portuguese are at this time besieging the town, and the officer hearing of the intended sacrifice of the object of his former love, scales the wall with a band of faithful followers, rushes into the town, and rescues the intended victim. stringed instruments, broken in upon by occasional beats | of the drum. He raises his eye, and meets the look of the sisters; his speech fails him, and he stands motionless. Conformably to his sacred character, he has never yet beheld a woman unveiled. He at once becomes an altered being, and the music expresses this new state of his mind, in a manner which is indescribably striking, and full of enchanting effect. Then begins an impassioned quick movement, in which joy and sadness alternate, he is in love, and yet recollects he is a Brahmin. Being gently reminded by Jessonda of his duty, he tries to recover himself, and to finish the sentence which he has to pronounce. The sister approaches him in the attitude of supplication, and overcome anew by her charms, he is borne away by his feelings, feels his whole existence changed, and is determined to throw off the yoke which religion has imposed upon him. Here follows an extremely beautiful, though somewhat long, terzetto, with which the first act concludes. at beholding her who is sacred to the Gods in the arms of a man, and he too an enemy, they wish to tear Jessonda away by force. D'Acunha draws and defends her. Portuguese and Indians rush in from different sides, and prepare for an attack. A fine contrast takes place between the two different chorusses, which produces a very striking effect. The high priest reminds D'Acunha of the truce, and of his promise to allow the women to pass without interruption. He recalls this to mind in the deepest anguish. An allegro agitato follows, which is finely taken up by the chorus of soldiers, who stand menacing each other. This finale is rich in ideas, originality, and effect, and shows Spohr to be a complete master of his art, and deeply versed in the knowledge of scenic effect. The introduction of the last act presents a picture of D'Acunha's distracted state of mind, which is happily expressed by broken and interrupted music, with scattered pieces from the last finale interwoven, which serve to awaken recollections of the parting scene between himself and the object of his love. He is seen wandering in melancholy mood along the sea coast; in imagination he views his Jessonda expiring in the flames. This is expressed in a recitative of such power, that we scarcely know anything that will stand in competition with it. From a soft and plaintive unisonous movement, the music gradually advances through harmonies of the most rare and touching kind, till it terminates in a burst of despair, at the moment when in fancy he beholds Jessonda throw herself into the flames. At this point he sinks exhausted into the arms of his friend Lopez. The young priest appears, and announces that the chief of the Brahmins had himself broken the truce, and had issued an order to set fire, that very night, to all the Portuguese ships. These words recal him to life; and, being released from the obligations of the truce by the treachery of the enemy, he is determined to attack the town, and a call to arms of an inspiring nature, concludes the scene. We are next transported to the square in front of the temple of Brahma, in the centre of which stands the image of the god. It is night, and thunder is heard rolling at a distance. From the interior of the temple the nocturnal hymns of the Brahmins break upon the ear. der-storm approaches. A procession is seen moving from the temple, led by a group of wildly-dancing Bayaderes. They approach the statue of the god, and the chief Brahmin utters an imprecation of terrible effect. The storm increases; and a thunderbolt shatters into pieces the image of Brahma. This is attributed to the effect of Jessonda's guilt, and it is resolved that she shall immedi ately be sacrificed. The composition of this scene is in the highest degree grand, both with respect to the muJessonda, ornamented for the sic and the scenic effect. sacrifice, appears flying in distraction before the pursuing Bayaderes. The thun The second act begins with a chorus of Portuguese, which is the same subject that has been interwoven in the overture. Their leader appears, and is saluted with warlike honours. A very spirited and original march follows. When the scene is cleared, Tristan D'Acunha remains alone with his friend Lopez, wrapt in melancholy thoughts; he reveals to his friend the story of his early love in these lands, before the fate of war had separated him from its object. This is expressed in an air alla Espagnuola; it is very beautiful in itself, though it appears of too soft a character for the hero D'Acunha. Lopez observes a train of women advancing from the town; they come from the Brahmins to announce that a female is on her way to a sacred spring, to prepare herself for a pious rite, and to solicit permission for her to pass without in terruption. This is obtained. When D'Acunha and Lopez have retired, Jessonda and the Bayaderes appear. The introduction to the recitative that follows, is full of heavenly calm, and expressive of the composure that reigns in the bosom of Jessonda. She begs to be left alone with her sister. When the rest are retired, she asks her sister to gather some of the flowers that cover the meadow in rich profusion, in order to form a wreath of peace to the memory of her former love. During the weaving of this wreath, a duet takes place between the two sisters. Our space will not allow us to enumerate all the beauties that are thickly scattered through this opera, and therefore we are obliged to forego any remarks on this piece, on an air of the young priest, and a duet between the latter and Jessonda's sister, who acknowledge their mutual flame, and plan how to save the sister. The young priest determines to have recourse to the Portuguese leader, and he accordingly hastens to him. Jessonda and the Bayaderes return from the spring. Finale; a short chorus of the Bavaderes, interwoven with a solo air by Jessonda. In the third act, D'Acunha appears in haste; Jessonda observes him, utters a cry, and falls in a swoon. Her A grand scena and air follow, expressive of the revivlover makes his way through the women that surrounding hope of life, and of being united to her beloved; this her, raises her veil, and discovers his faithful Jessonda. movement is full of truth, and in a tone of pathos which The music employed during this scene is simple, but of admirably harmonizes with the rest of the scene. powerful effect. D'Acunha kneels before his beloved, moment Jessonda's sister hurries in, and announces the and supports her in his arms. She opens her eyes, and approach of their deliverers: the Portuguese storm the expresses her rapture at beholding him again. Lost in town; the chief Brahmin demands the death of Jestheir ecstacies, the two lovers do not hear the warning sonda; the Indians are seen flying in all directions, voice of the Bayaderes, who announce the approach of sued by the victors; the Brahmins are forced to retire, the high priest and the other Brahmins; and are aroused Jessonda is saved, and a triumphal chorus concludes the from their delirium only by their appearance. Enraged piece At this pur |