e work. It has no choruses of rejoicing, no paeans of
praise, not even a hallelujah at its close.

The first part opens with a reflection sung by double chorus, "Come, ye
Daughters, weep for Anguish," the first exhorting believers to weep over
the sinful world, the second responding with brief interrogations, and at
last taking part in the sorrowful strains of the first. Interwoven with
these is an independent instrumental melody, the whole crowned with a
magnificent chorale sung by the sopranos, "O Lamb of God all blameless!"
followed by still another, "Say, sweetest Jesus," which reappears in
other parts of the work variously harmonized. The double chorus and
chorales form the introduction, and are followed by recitative and a
chorale, "Thou dear Redeemer," and a pathetic aria for contralto, "Grief
and Pain," relating the incident of the woman anointing the feet of
Jesus. The next number is an aria for soprano, "Only bleed, Thou dearest
Heart," which follows the acceptance by Judas of the thirty pieces of
silver, and which serves to intensify the grief in the aria preceding it.
The scene of the Last Supper ensues, and to this number Bach has given a
character of sweetness and gentleness, though its coloring is sad. As the
disciples ask, "Lord, is it I?" another chorale is sung, "'Tis I! my Sins
betray me." Recitative of very impressive character, conveying the divine
injunctions, leads up to a graceful and tender aria for soprano, "Never
will my Heart refuse Thee," one of the simplest and clearest, and yet one
of the richest and most expressive, melodies ever conceived. After
further recitative and the chorale, "I will stay here beside Thee," we
are introduced to the scene in the Garden of Gethsemane, which is
characterized by a number of extraordinary beauty and strength in its
construction. It is introduced by a short instrumental prelude, Zion,
represented by the tenor voice, and the Believers by the chorus, coming
in after a few bars and alternating with extraordinary vocal effect. It
calls for the highest dramatic power, and in its musical development is a
web of wonderful harmonies such as we may look for only in the works of
the mighty master of counterpoint. It fitly prepares the way for the two
great movements which close the first part, an aria for soprano and alto,
"Alas! my Jesus now is taken," and a double chorus, "Ye Lightnings, ye
Thunders!" The two solo voices join in a lament of a most touching
nature,