id="pgepubid00015">OPERATIC NOTES.

Wednesday.—Great German Night. Third Part of the Festival Play for Four Nights by RICHARD WAGNER, with (thank goodness just to lighten it) an English translation by the Messrs. CORDER.

"Sursum Corder!" A light and airy work as everyone knows is Der Ring des Nibelungen, or The Nibelung's Ring, requiring all the power of lungs to get the true ring out of the work. Hard work for singers, more so for orchestra, and most so for audience. As for the "Ring," there are a lot of animals in the Opera, but no horse, so the Circus entertainment is not complete until Brünnhilde shall appear in the next part of the tetralogy, with her highly-trained steed. Odd! Throughout two long (and, ahem! somewhat weary, eh?) Acts, not a female singer visible on stage (though one sings "like a bird" off it,—that is, quite appropriately, "at the wings"), and not until the Third Act, does Erda the witch "rise from below," and we all saw her and 'Erd 'er. Then, later on, appears Brünnhilde, asleep, "in a complete suit of gleaming plate-armour, with helmet on her head and long shield over her body," a style of free-and-easy costume which, as everyone knows, is highly conducive to sleeping in perfect comfort. No wonder Siegfried mistakes her for a man-in-armour out of the Lord Mayor's Show, and exclaims,

Scenes in the Ring. Sir Alvary Siegfried, with Nothung on, as Master of "the Ring," gives a Special Entertainment.

(I was scanning with wonder the verses,—but passons!)—he continues:—

This at first sight looks nautical; and therefore his next question is, "Can I speak to the man at the wheel?" He decides that, as the sleeping warrior "heaveth his breast," and "is heavily breathing," it will be a humane act to give him a little air,—[which is done in the orchestra whatever air there is],—and then Siegfried asks himself if it won't be as well, or "better, to open his byrnie?" Those among the audience who have been carefully reading the translation up to this point, here look up and closely watch Siegfried's proceedings, being evidently uncertain as to what "his byrnie" may be. Some clever person in Stalls observes that up to now, he has always thought that "'byrnie' was the affectionate diminutive for a mountain 'byrne' in Scotland." Which clever person had evidently much to learn. However the effect of the operation for "byrnie" (which ought to have been performed by Dr. BYRNIE YEO, ever ready to rescue a fellow-creature in distress) is to show that the supposed Knight is a Lady. Whereupon Siegfried with "surprise and astonishment starts back" exclaiming:—

"This is no man! Burning enchantment"—he meant "Byrnieing"—"charges my heart;"—(what charge does a heart make in these circumstances?)—"fiery awe falls on my eyesight;" (bad symptoms these!)—"My senses stagger and sway,"—So he swaggers and stays.

It is some time before he can pull himself together, and then the "Bewitched Maiden" awakes and addresses him bewitchingly. This causes him to be taken with a fit of "exalted rapture," while the lady, on her part, cannot help being "deeply stirred."

After a mad wooing, she laughs in a "wild transport of passion," calls him a "high-minded boy," likewise "a blossoming hero," also "a babe of prowess;" all which epithets, styles and titles, are in quite the vein of Falstaff addressing Prince Hal. Then, in return, Siegfried can hit on no better compliment than to style her "a Sun" and "a Star." Having thus exhausted their joint-stock of complimentary endearments, they throw themselves into each other's arms. On which situation the Curtain discreetly falls.

Sir Druriolanus Wagnerensis offering the Tea-tray-logy to his Patrons.

All very fine and large, of course. Orchestra splendid. Siegfried and Brünnhilde recalled four times. Everybody, including Mr. MAHLER the Conductor, and Sir AUGUSTUS WAGNERENSIS, called before Curtain. Madame ROSA SUCHER had her evening all to herself, to go wherever she liked, as she had only to drop in at the Opera at 11 P.M., don her armour in which to appear before the public at midnight, sing a few solos, join in a duet, and be off the stage again by 12:30 A.M. punctually.

The English translation will repay perusal. There are in it some really choice morsels. This subject must be considered at the earliest operatunity.

The Singing Dragon is delightful throughout, and his death as tragic as anything in Pyramis and Thisbe as played by Bottom the Weaver & Co, Limited.

Saturday.—Production of the Illustrious ISIDORE DE LARA's Light of Asia. So the operatic day, that is Saturde-ay, finishes with generally-expressed opinion that this Opera is a

"DE-LA-RA-Boom-de-ay!"

Everything scenically and stage-managerially that could be done to make The Light of Asia brilliant, Sir DRURIOLANUS has done; but, after a first hearing, it strikes me that, regarded as a work for the stage, it is a mere Night-light of Asia, which, like Macbeth's "brief candle," will go "out," and "then be heard no more." If, however, it be relegated to the concert-hall, as a Cantata, The Light of Asia may appear lighter than it does on the boards of Covent Garden, where, intended to be a dramatic Opera, it only recalls to me the title of one of RUDYARD KIPLING's stories, viz., The Light that Failed.

A SUTTON THOUGHT.—Mr. CHAMBERLAIN can now allude to Lord ROSEBERY as "a Sutton person of his acquaintance."

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

Unfashionable Mother. "WHAT A SWEET CHILD! HOW OLD IS SHE?"

Fashionable Mother. "WELL, REALLY, IF YOU ARE GOING TO ASK THAT SORT OF QUESTION, I'D BETTER SEND FOR THE NURSE!"

AN OLD SONG REVIVED.

(As sung by the Champion Ulster "Comique," Colonel S-nd-rs-n, to the old tune of "De Groves of de Pool," written by "honest Dick Millikin.")