time,
appropriated to the most degrading purposes of vulgar householdry; and
the frenzied worshippers of a faith that knows not the divine presence
in its most marvellous manifestation, the intellect of man. Here is no
longer the home of wisdom and the arts; so the liberated goddess
proceeds to Pesth, where she establishes anew her temple in the new
theatre, and presides over a triumphal procession in honor of the
Emperor, its patron, under whose auspices the golden age is to prevail
again."

After the opening performances the music to "King Stephen" was laid aside
until 1841, when it was given in Vienna; but the after-piece, "The Ruins
of Athens," was presented again during Beethoven's lifetime upon the
occasion of the opening of a theatre in that city. The new text, which
was prepared for it by Carl Meisl, was entitled "Die Weihe des Hauses"
("The Dedication of the House"), and Beethoven wrote for it the overture
which is now so famous, solos for soprano and violin, and a final chorus
with dances.

The music to the "Ruins of Athens" comprises eight numbers. The overture
is very light and unpretentious, and by many critics, among them
Ferdinand Ries, Beethoven's pupil, has been deemed unworthy of the
composer. Thayer says:--

"When the overture was first played at Leipsic, people could hardly
trust their ears, could hardly believe it to be the work of the author
of the symphonies, of the overtures to 'Coriolan,' 'Egmont,' and
'Leonore' (Fidelio)."

The opening number is a chorus ("Daughter of mighty Jove, awake!"), which
is followed by a beautiful duet ("Faultless, yet hated"), voicing the
lament of two Greek slaves for the destruction of their temples and the
degradation of their land. The duet is very pathetic in character, and
the melody, carried by the two voices, leaves an impression of sadness
which cannot be resisted. The third number is the well-known chorus of
Dervishes sung in unison by tenors and basses, thus forming a kind of
choral chant. The melody is a weird one, and full of local color, but its
powerful effect is gained by the manner of treatment. It begins
pianissimo and is gradually worked to the extreme pitch of true Dervish
delirium, culminating in the exclamation, "Great Prophet, hail!" and then
gradually subsiding until it dies away, apparently from the exhaustion of
such fervor. It is followed by the familiar Turkish march, founded on the
theme of the Variations in D,