t, but as Lysiart reveals the
mystery of the grave, she cannot deny that she has broken her promise
of never telling the secret.

{74}

Adolar full of despair surrenders everything to his rival, leading
Euryanthe, whom he believes to be false, into the wilderness to kill
her. A serpent is about to sting him, when his bride throws herself
between. He kills the reptile, but after her sacrifice he is unable to
raise his arm against her and so leaves her to her fate.

She is found by the King and his hunters, and to them she relates the
whole story of her error of confiding in the false Eglantine. The King
promises to inform Adolar and takes her back with him. Meanwhile
Adolar returning once more to his grounds, is seen by his people. One
of them, Bertha, tells him that Euryanthe is innocent, and that
Eglantine, who is about to marry Lysiart and to reign as supreme
mistress over the country, has been the culprit.

Eglantine, appearing in bridal attire, led by Lysiart, suddenly becomes
a prey to fearful remorse, she sees Emma's ghost, and in her anxiety
reveals the whole plot. Her bridegroom stabs her in his fury, but is
at once seized by order of the King who just then comes upon the scene.
Adolar, believing Euryanthe dead, demands a meeting with Lysiart. But
the King declares, that the murderer must incur the penalty of the
laws. He renders up to Adolar his possessions and his bride, who the
more easily pardons her repentant bridegroom, that she has saved his
sister's soul by the innocent tears of her misfortune.

{75}

FALSTAFF.

A lyric Comedy in three acts by GIUSEPPE VERDI.

Text by ARRIGO BOITO.

Nobody who hears this opera would believe, that it has been written by
a man in his eightieth year. So much freshness, wit and originality
seem to be the privilege of youth alone. But the wonder has been
achieved, and Verdi has won a complete success with an opera,--which
runs in altogether different lines from his old-ones, another wonder of
an abnormally strong and original mind.

Falstaff was first represented in Milan in February 1893; since then it
has made its way to all theatres of renown, and it is now indisputable
that we have in it a masterpiece of composition and orchestration.
Those who only look for the easy-flowing melodies of the younger Verdi
will be disappointed; art is predominant, besides an exuberant humour
full of charm for every cultivated hearer. The numbers which attract