f his new opera-house at Cairo by the
production of a work upon an Egyptian subject from the pen of the most
popular composer of the day. The idea of the libretto seems to have been
originally due to Mariette Bey, the famous Egyptologist, who had
happened to light upon the story in the course of his researches. It was
first written in French prose by M. Camilla du Locle in collaboration
with Verdi himself, and afterwards translated by Signor Ghislanzoni.

Aida, the daughter of Amonasro, the King of Ethiopia, has been taken
prisoner by the Egyptians, and given as a slave to the princess Amneris.
They both love the warrior Radames, the chosen chief of the Egyptian
army, but he cares nothing for Amneris, and she vows a deadly vengeance
against the slave who has supplanted her. Radames returns in triumph
from the wars, bringing with him a chain of prisoners, among whom is
Amonasro. The latter soon finds out Aida's influence over Radames, and
half terrifies, half persuades her into promising to extract from her
lover the secret of the route which the Egyptian army will take on the
morrow on their way to a new campaign against the Ethiopians. Aida
beguiles Radames with seductive visions of happiness in her own country,
and induces him to tell her the secret. Amonasro, who is on the watch,
overhears it and escapes in triumph, while Radames, in despair at his
own treachery, gives himself up to justice. Amneris offers him pardon
if he will accept her love, but he refuses life without Aida, and is
condemned to be immured in a vault beneath the temple of Phtha. There he
finds Aida, who has discovered a means of getting in, and has made up
her mind to die with her lover. They expire in each other's arms, while
the solemn chant of the priestesses in the temple above mingles with the
sighs of the heart-broken Amneris.

'Aida' was an immense advance upon Verdi's previous work. The Egyptian
subject, so remote from the ordinary operatic groove, seems to have
tempted him to a fresher and more vivid realism, and the possibilities
of local colour opened a new world to so consummate a master of
orchestration. The critics of the day at once accused Verdi of imitating
Wagner, and certain passages undoubtedly suggest the influence of
'Lohengrin,' but as a whole the score is thoroughly and radically
Italian. In 'Aida' Verdi's vein of melody is as rich as ever, but it is
controlled by a keen artistic sense, which had never had full play
before.