so that his cry to Maria bursts fro

so that his cry to Maria bursts from his soul like an outcry of profound dismay." Here we shall not attempt a dis- quisition on the value or valuelessness of the Paris revision. We shall only point out that dramatically—especially in the economy of the scenic arrangement—the first act, which
originally was divided into two balanced sec- tions, lost that balance in the later version, with the result that the overextended first half undeniably impairs our impressionability for the charm of the second part. But note one important point: As to the first half of Act I, Wagner characterized this entire section as simply one tremendous intensification of effect up to the decisive outcry, "Maria!" And this "Maria!" ought to burst forth with such poignant energy, that "from it flows swift apprehension of the instantly following mar- vellous disencharming of the Venusberg, and of the translocation to the home-valley, as the necessary fulfilment of an imperative demand by a heart driven to desperate decision." Surely, there are but few situations in the dramatic literature of all periods and peoples, that may be compared with this thrilling moment in "Tannhauser." Let us examine, exclusively from the standpoint of dramatic construction, how Wagner prepares this moment, and how he builds up the second scene in the first act. The very first gesture in this scene clearly reveals the situation at the beginning—Tannhauser raises his head convulsively, as if starting up out of a dream; Venus caressingly draws him back. This brings before our eyes the most vital contrast within the scene—the discontent of Tannhau- ser, sated with the pleasures of the Venusberg, and the still unwavering love of the goddess, who will not for the world allow her favorite knight to depart. From this opposition of wills arises the conflict of the scene and its final result: Tannhauser's will wins the day, but the curse of the goddess pursues him and never lets him find peace. (We have to admit that we do not divine the effectiveness of the goddess's curse until the opening of the second act, where the menacing Motive of the Curse intrudes like a spectre into the joyous orchestral prelude.) Between begin- ning and end are all stages of transition, and it is quite in keeping with dramatic truth that it seems at moments (for heightening the suspense) as if Tannhauser had renounced his purpose and yielded to the desire of the goddess. This always appears in the first half of his praise-song, but in the second half of the song he as regularly returns to his longing for freedom. Within the scene its division into grand intensifications is clearly marked by the triple repetition of the praise- song (raised by a semitone each time, be it noted), in which, after celebrating the goddess, Tannhauser vents his longing for liberty with ever-increasingvehemence. Now,itismostin- structive, dramatically, to observe how Venus reacts each time. Before the first strophe of the song she does not take Tannhauser's plaints all too tragically. She replies to him with a couple of trifling phrases in the tone of an aggrieved coquette, ending with an appeal to sing the praises of lpve and the goddess of love. Then follows the first strophe of the song, whose close always runs: "Aus deinem Reiche muss ich fliehn, o Konigin, Gottin, lass mich ziehn!" (From thy domain I must flee: O queen, goddess, let me go!) Whereas Tannhauser before had only mournfully asked: "Shall I ne'er -hear them, never see them more?" we now hear for the first time his firm decision to abandon Venus for ever. Accordingly, she answers in a more serious tone, yet still thinking she has to do with a mere momentary whim, a fit of de- pression; she coaxes him much as a mother coaxes her spoiled darling, and questions herself: "Wherein was my love remiss?" Tannhauser responds with yet more glowing
praise of the goddess of love—but also with stillmorevehementdesireforfreedom. There- upon Venus starts up passionately, wounded in her profoundest affections, and hurls at him the reproach:
Thou darest to scorn my love?
Thou praisest it, and still wouldst flee from it? My charm has now grown wearisome to thee?
With fine feminine instinct Venus has found the true reason for his enigmatic attitude, al- though she is mistaken in supposing that Tannhauser "scorns" her, for it is only the war of emotions that drives him to his strangely contradictory behavior. And for a moment he attempts to pacify the goddess, calling her "lovely," and declaring the very excess of her charms to be the reason that he must go— supposedly a sort of "compliment" for Venus. She, however, is not deceived by mere phrases born of embarrassment. While calling him a traitor, hypocrite, thankless wretch, she none the less reveals in the same breath, in truly feminine fashion, that she will not let him go. But now, when Tannhauser warmly and openly avows:
Ne'er was my manhood fuller, never truer, Than now, when I must part from thee forever!
she changes her tone. She knows that an unfaithful man is more effectively controlled by loving allurement than by reproaches, and of the former she is past-mistress. At her beck is disclosed the blissful grotto:
A feast of joy shall celebrate our union,
In our rejoicing let love's rites be crowned!
Bring thou to love no timid sacrifice
Nay! with love's goddess taste the ecstasy of bliss.
From afar sounds the -seductive song of the Sirens, and it seems as though Tannhauser, lost in blissful fascination, were unable to carryouthisdeterminationtodepart. Venus herself, gently urging him on, asks half-jest- ingly, half-seductively, "My knight, my lover, wilt thou go?" And he, in bewildering , en- ravishment, sweeps his harpstrings with ecstatic mien and for the third time sings the praise of Venus's charms. And Venus, like the uninitiate beholder, feels no doubt that this time, intoxicated by love's allurements, Tannhauser will finally forfeit his freedom to the goddess. And yet—take note of the tremendous dramatic revulsion—in the second half of the praise-song Tannhauser once more intones his longing for liberty; so steadfast is his will that only for a moment can it be made to waver, but remains unbroken. For the third time he implores the goddess, "Let me go!" AndatthisjunctureVenus'sdemeanor likewise changes; till now only the loving woman, she reveals herself as the haughty, ireful goddess. Prophetically she foresees Tannhauser's wretchedness out in "the world": "What thou desirest, be thy lot! Depart!" She feels that sometime he will return, remorse- ful and broken. Tannhauser's pride hurls back the defiance: "Ne'er shall I return to thee!" Thereupon—again how wonderful a contrast!—the goddess, but now so majestical, once more becomes the loving woman that sees herself bereft of her last hope ("Ha! shouldst thou ne'er return to me"), and there- fore in utmost desperation launches a curse upon the whole world—none of humankind shall enjoy love, if the goddess of love herself must sigh in vain. And now comes the grand intensification; Venus plays her last
trump:
Venus:—O come, come back to me again! Tannhauser:—No more may me love's joy delight! Venus:—Come back, whene'er thy heart shall plead!
Tannh.:—Thy lover leaves thee now for aye! Venus:—And if they all should spurn thee forth? Tannh.:—Repentance lifts the curse from me. Venus:—Forgiveness ne'er shall make thee whole!
Return, when naught can save thy soul! Tannh.—My soul—my soul confides in Mary!
{Venus cowers to earth with a cry, and vanishes. The scene changes with lightning-like swiftness.)
Observe how in this intensification—so brief in point of time, so overwhelming in effect —all the elements in the subsequent develop- ment of the Tannhauser drama are already anticipated:
"And if they all should spurn thee forth" (Act II).
"Repentance lifts the curse from me" (Act II, close).
"Forgiveness ne'er shall make thee whole" (T.'s pilgrimage).
"My soul confides in Mary" (Elisabeth's pleading, and martyr-death, in Act III).
One can admire the genius of the youthful Wagner, who here intuitively found the right path, only the more unreservedly when one notes how the later Wagner played the mis- chief, dramatically, with his own creation in the Paris version. As Wagner remarked to Rockel: "But how little can the artist expect to see his own intention fully reproduced in any interpretation, when he himself is con- fronted by his art-work as by an enigma, concerning which he may be as readily de- ceived as others!" Compare with the above quotation the following version1 of the same situation:
Venus:—Comebacktome! Believeme, My fondest love thou'lt find!
Tannhauser:—Goddess, whoe'er doth leave thee, Leaves love for aye behind.
Venus:—Resist no longing proudly That leads thee back to me!
Tannh.:—My longing is for battle; I seek no bliss, no joys,
Goddess, mark me rightly,
'Tis death alone I prize! Venus:—If even Death avoid thee,
Were there no grave for thee! Tannh.:—My heart shall find thro' penance
Its death and grave in peace. Venus:—-Peace ne'er shall be thy portion,
Nor safety for thy soul! Come back to me and rest thee,
My love shall make thee whole! Tannh.:—Goddess of rapture, not in thee
For peace my soul trusteth in Mary! {Terrible crash. Venus vanishes.)
J As given in the "Gesammelte Schriften und Dichtungen," this being the real poetic version; for actual performance according to the Paris version, there is used a poor retransla- tion of the French text to which Wagner wrote the music.