The Sun.
London, England, 1863-06-08 00:00:00

UN BALLO IN MASCIIERA.

Verdi's last and finest cperE—and which has only
to be better known to become also the most popular
—was produced at this theatre on Saturday even-
ing with the utmost possibla success. It was its
first performance for the season, and it sufficed to
attract an audience that was equally elegant and
numerous. Mr. Mapleson, vsho enjoys the credit of
being the first to introduce this charming work to our
lyric stage, may now also claim the distinction of
directing the theatre which gives it its most perfect
interpretation. We have never seen it receive such
entire justice as on this occasion, and consequently
produce so profound an impression on the public.
In addition to all the usual characteristics of Verdi's
acknowledged genius—the fresh and inspiring
melody, the intense dramatic feeling, and the vivid
and I:lcturesque, if occasionally clamo-
rous instrumentation this opera is distin-
guished by a feature of superior power. It
mingles with its highest tragic emotion a mocking
or defiant gaiety—that whilst it contrasts with, sin-
gularly intensifies its pathos or its fervour. Such
is the exquisite " E. scherzo odie follia" of Ricciardo
in the Sy bils cave, in which he laughs at the doom
that the weird woman has just pronounced o❑ him
—and still more strikingly the masterly chorus of
the conspirators that closes the second act, in which
they deride the agony of Renato, who has just
discovered that the man he has protected
has repaid his devotion with dishonour. In
the entire round of the lyric drama we know of
nothing more affecting than this most original
position—nor developed, as it is, by the music to
its utmost point of power—nothing so distinctive of
the genius of its composer.

The execution of the opera as we have already
said, was the most perfect we have ever witnesed.
Mudlle. Titiens, who has made Amelia so entirely
her own that all the rivalry she has sustain ed in it
has only served to confirm her title—despite the
severe indisposition under which she laboured
on Saturday evening—renewed the evidence
of those powers which render her at present
so unrivalled. In the music of the third act,
especially—the finest altogether that Verdi has ever
written—whether in the superb declamation of her
opening scene, in which she describes the tqrrois of
her midnight task—or in the admirable duet with
Ricciardo, in which he extorts from her the avowal
of her love—she never affirmed with more noble
emphasis her magn.ficent endowments. It is need-
less to say with what enthusiasm she was summoned
by the audience at the conclusion of this act.
Madlle. Trebelli also gave to the character of
thrice a new and striking interpretation. The
mystic solemnity with which she stamped it, both
in her bearing and expression, conduced not less to
its just influence than to the proof of her claims as a
true artist. Thu performance was further signalised
by the first appearance of Signora Volpini in the
character of Osc it—a young lady who is possessed
of a very clear and sweet soprano, which, if
somewhat trtmulous at first—in the " Saper Vor-
reste" of the last act, rose to a firmness, in
addition to a spirit and facility of expression,
which won for the effort a warm encore,
and secured to the debutante an unquestionable
success. This young lady is distinguished also by
considerable personal advantages, and must be re-
garded i❑ all respects as an acquisition to the theatre.
fhe Ricciardo of Signor Giuglini is another of the
numerous characters he has entirely made his own,
and both in the variety, as well as the force of its
expression, has enlarged his claims to public favour.
The gaiety of his singing and acting throughout
the scene in the sybil's cave contrasts as strikingly
with the passionate ardour of his encounter with
Amelia—as do both of them—with the affect-
ing pathos of his most naturally-depicted
death. This is throughout a very genuine and su-
perior performance. A still more striking feature
of the night, however, was the Renato of Signor
Della Sedie, an artist whose musical and dramatic
powers are second to none on the lyric stage, and
had they been but equalled by his vocal, who would
scarcely have had a rival. The deep devotion
of the generous Creole, who risks his life freely for
his friend—and on the discovery of his betrayal—
seeks a vengeance which in its misery is almost as
fatal to himself—was illustrated by Signor Della
Sedie, in every aspect of its emotions with a
vigour which was only equalled by its naturalness
and pathos. Several of the passages in his acting
rose to the highest point of tragic power—such as
the recognition of his wife in the third act—his
repulse of her entreaties iu the last, and above all
the terrible dismay and bewildering sense of his
remorse, on the discovery of his wife's innocence
and his groundless vengeance on his friend. His
despairing rush from the scene of his guilt was an
effort worthy of Edmund Kean. Quite on a level
with these merits was his singing, which in the
delivery especially of the lovely cavatina—" Oh
dolcezze perdute," presented an instance of pathetic
expression unsurpassed on the modern stage. It is
❑eedless to say that it was most vehemently and
rapturously encored. The performance of the
band and chorus was entirely worthy of that de-
scribed—aad we can only suppose that this admirable
opera so magnificently sustained will be frequently
repeated—and as much for the honour or the house
as the enjoyment of the public.
On Thursday next we are to have at this theatre
the important novelty of Gounod's " Faust," sus-
tained by the unrivalled talent of Madl le. Titiens
and Mdlle. Trebelli, Signor Giuglini, Mons. Gassier,
and Mr. Santley.