In putting on grand opera in English I had, in each case, the tradition of two countries to contend with; but I endeavoured to secure some uniformity of style and usually rehearsed them all myself, sitting at the piano. The singers were, of course, hide-bound to the awful translations that were institutional and to them inevitable. None of them would have ever considered changing a word, even for the better. The translation of _Mignon_ was probably the most completely revolutionary of the many translations and adaptations I indulged in. I shall never forget one fearfully clumsy passage in _Trovatore_.
"To the handle, To the handle, To the handle Strike the dagger!"
There were two modifications possible, either of which was vastly preferable, and without actually changing a word.
"Strike the dagger, Strike the dagger, Strike the dagger To the handle!"
"Strike the dagger To the handle, Strike the dagger To the handle!"
a simple and legitimate repetition of a phrase. This is a case in illustration of the meaningless absurdity and unintelligibility of the average libretto.
Those were the days in which I devoutly appreciated my general sound musical training. The old stand-bys, _Fra Diavolo_, _Trovatore_, and _Martha_ were all very well. Most singers had been reared on them from their artistic infancy. But, for example, _The Marriage of Figaro_ was an innovation. To it I had to bring my best experience and judgment as cultivated in our London productions; and we finally gave a very creditable English performance of it. Then there were, besides, the new operas that had to be incepted and created and toiled over:--_The Talisman_ and _Lily o'Killarney_ among others. _The Talisman_ by Balfe, an opera of the Meyerbeerian school, was first produced at the Drury Lane in London, with Nilsson, Campanini, Marie Roze, Rota, and others. Our presentation of it was less pretentious, naturally, but we had an excellent cast, with Joseph Maas as Sir Kenneth, William Carlton as Coeur de Lion, Mme. Loveday as Queen Berengaria, and Charles Turner as De Vaux. I was Edith Plantaganet. When the opera was first put on in London, under the direction of Sir Jules Benedict, it was called _The Knight of the Leopard_. Later, it was translated into Italian under the title of _Il Talismano_, and from that finally re-translated by us and given the name of Sir Walter Scott's work on which it was based. It was not only Balfe's one real grand opera, but was also his last important work. _Lily o'Killarney_, by Sir Jules Benedict, was not a striking novelty. It had a graceful duet for the basso and tenor, and one pretty solo for the _prima donna_--"I'm Alone"--but, otherwise, it did not amount to much. But we scored in it because of our good artistry. Our company was a good one. Parepa Rosa did tremendous things with her English opera _tournées_; but I honestly think our work was more artistic as well as more painstaking. There were not many of us; but we did our best and pulled together; and I was very happy in the whole venture. Benedict's _Lily o'Killarney_ was written particularly for me, and was inspired by _Colleen Bawn_, Dion Boucicault's big London success. I have always understood that Oxenford wrote the libretto of that--a fine one as librettos go--but Grove's Dictionary says that Boucicault helped him.