hoc, rings them vigorously against her ear, singing
the while I know not what little pensive, birdlike song, which I dare
say she improvises as she goes along. Well, after all, it is even more
completely Japanese than I could possibly have imagined it--this last
scene of my married life! I feel inclined to laugh." And he commends
the little gypsy's worldly wisdom, offers to make good any counterfeit
piece which she may find, and refuses to permit her to see him go
aboard of his ship. She does, nevertheless, along with the Japanese
wives of four of his fellow officers, who peep at their flitting
husbands through the curtains of their sampans. But when he is far out
on the great Yellow Sea he throws the faded lotus flowers which she had
given him through the porthole of his cabin, making his best excuses
for "giving to them, natives of Japan, a grave so solemn and so vast";
and he utters a prayer: "O Ama-Terace-Omi-Kami, wash me clean from this
little marriage of mine in the waters of the river of Kamo!"

The story has no soul, and to give his story, which borrowed its motive
from Loti's, a soul, Mr. Long had to do violence to the verities of
Japanese life. Yet might not even a geisha feel a genuine passion?

The use of folk-tunes in opera is older than "Madama Butterfly," but
Puccini's score stands alone in the extent of the use and the
consistency with which Japanese melody has been made the foundation of
the music. When Signor Illica, one of the librettists, followed Sar
Peladan and d'Annunzio into Nippon seeking flowers for "Iris," he took
Mascagni with him--metaphorically, of course. But Mascagni was a timid
gleaner. Puccini plucked with a bolder hand, as indeed he might, for he
is an incomparably greater adept in the art of making musical nosegays.
In fact, I know of only one score that is comparable with that of
"Madama Butterfly" in respect of its use of national musical color, and
that is "Boris Godounoff." Moussorgsky, however, had more, richer, and
a greater variety of material to work with than Puccini. Japanese music
is arid and angular, and yet so great is Puccini's skill in combining
creative imagination and reflection that he knew how to make it blossom
like a rose. Pity that he could not wholly overcome its rhythmical
monotony. Japanese melody runs almost uninterruptedly through his
instrumental score, giving way at intervals to the Italian style of
lyricism when the characters and passions become un