nst her fate. Such weaknesses as the opera
contains are principally attributable to the libretto, which is
ill-constructed, and cold and formal in diction. Rinaldo is rather a
colourless person, and the other characters are for the most part merely
lay-figures, though the grim figure of Hate is drawn with extraordinary
power. But upon Armida the composer concentrated the full lens of his
genius, and for her he wrote music which satisfies every requirement of
dramatic truth, without losing touch of the lyrical beauty and
persuasive passion which breathes life into soulless clay.

In 'Iphigenie en Tauride,' the last of his great works, which was
produced in 1778, Gluck reached his highest point. Here he seems for the
first time thoroughly to fuse and combine the two elements which are for
ever at war in his earlier operas, musical beauty and dramatic truth.
Throughout the score of 'Iphigenie en Tauride' the declamation is as
vivid and true as in 'Alceste,' while the intrinsic loveliness of the
music yields not a jot to the passion-charged strains of 'Armide.' The
overture paints the gradual awakening of a tempest, and when the storm
is at its height the curtain rises upon the temple of Diana at Tauris,
where Iphigenia, snatched by the goddess from the knife of the
executioner at Aulis, has been placed as high priestess. The priestesses
in chorus beseech the gods to be propitious, and when the fury of the
storm is allayed, Iphigenia recounts her dream of Agamemnon's death, and
laments the woes of her house. She calls upon Diana to put an end to her
life, which already has lasted too long. Thoas, the king of the country,
now enters, alarmed by the outcries of the priestesses. He is a prey to
superstitious fears, and willingly listens to the advice of his
followers, that the gods can only be appeased by human blood. A message
is now brought that two young strangers have been cast upon the
rock-bound coast, and Thoas at once decides that they shall be the
victims. Orestes and Pylades are now brought in. They refuse to make
themselves known, and are bidden to prepare for death, while the act
closes with the savage delight of the Scythians.

The second act is in the prison. Orestes bewails his destiny, and
refuses the consolation which Pylades offers in a noble and famous song.
Pylades is torn from his friend's arms by the officers of the guard, and
Orestes, left to himself, after a paroxysm of madness sinks to sleep
upon the