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PROLOGUE
The Prologue opens with a brief orchestral introduction that presages
the drama to follow. It depicts the players themselves, as a group, in the
bustle and verve of the music, then refers to Canio with a somber strain
suggestive of his unhappiness and jealousy, to Nedda by way of a sinuous
theme indicative of her guilty love for Silvio, and ends with the first idea
of the troupe itself.
Tonio, coming through the curtain on an abrupt dissonance, asks the
audience's permission with the words "Si può?" ("A word?"). Thereafter he
launches into a lengthy explanation of the work. These players, he says,
are men and women, and the author, borrowing the idea of a prologue from the
'' glory of old,'' would not repeat to his hearers that the sighs and tears
of the actors are false or that they have no hearts. On the contrary, he
would show them to be players in a fragment from life. So he has written the
story for men, and the story is true. Tonio knocks on the curtain,
saying, "Come, let's begin," and the orchestra peals out the "Pagliacci"
theme.
ACT I
SCENE : The entrance to a litttle Italian village, at the junction of two
roads. A rude stage has been erected; before it Tonio stands on guard.
A
trumpet is heard, crude and out of tune, and the booming of a bass drum. It
is a holiday, the feast of the Assumption, and gaily dressed villagers hurry
to the spot, in no mood for work. Excited with the anticipation of a good
time, they exclaim, "They're here, the pagliacci! Welcome!"
Down the road comes a characteristic procession: Beppe, dressed as
Harlequin, leading a donkey, which in turn draws a brightly painted cart; in
the cart lies Nedda; back of it walks Canio, in the costume of Pagliaccio,
with trumpet and drumsticks. The troupe halts before the little theater,
and Canio silences the noisy welcome by hammering the bass drum.
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Enrico Caruso as
Canio |
With mock
solemnity he announces their performance, "Un grande
spettacolo a ventitré ore" then adds, "Venite onorateci,
signor' e signori" ("So come then, and honor us, ladies and gentlemen"). He
turns to help his wife down from the cart, but Tonio, the misshapen clown,
is there before him, much to the amusement of the crowd. Canio pays him for
this with a hearty box on the ear. Tonio slinks off back of the stage,
muttering to himself, while the villagers rock with laughter.
One of the men suggests they go for a drink, and Canio calls to Tonio to
come along. But the clown answers that he must stay to rub down the donkey,
and a villager jestingly hints that Tonio might prefer staying behind with
Nedda. At once on the alert, Canio exclaims, "Eh! What!—You think so?" Then,
with a wry smile, he continues, "Un tal gioco,
credetemi" ("Such a game is better not
played").
Nedda understands very well the cause of her husband's black looks, yet
exclaims to herself, "What does he mean?" The villagers are somewhat puzzled
and ask if he is serious. He rouses himself with an effort and says lightly,
"Not I—I love my wife most dearly," and thereupon he kisses her on the
forehead.
A troupe of bagpipe players passes, and church bells are heard ringing in
the village; toward it the people now turn, slowly, in couples. As they go,
they sing the famous '' Chorus of the Bells,'' a charming melody with
something of the spirit of Italian folk song.
The voices fade away in the distance, and Nedda is left alone to muse over
the jealous fire she saw in Canio's eyes. "If he were to catch me!" She
shudders. The bright summer sunlight soon drives away these ominous thoughts
and, looking up to the sky, she sings the ballatella "Stridono lassù"
("Birds without number"). Nedda has forgotten her tawdry world as she thinks
of the freedom of the birds.
Her musing is interrupted by the unwelcome reappearance of Tonio. He tells
her that he could not resist her singing; she laughs at him, saying he talks
like a poet. He knows that he is ugly and deformed, yet he cannot help
loving her, desiring her, violently. Nedda orders him to go or she will call
Canio. "Not before I have kissed you!" he cries, rushing at her. She darts
away, picks up a whip, and strikes him across the face, shouting, "You cur!"
Tonio screams with pain, then cries, "By the Blessed Virgin of the
Assumption I swear you’ll pay me for this!''
No sooner has Tonio gone than a more welcome lover approaches. He vaults
lightly over the wall and greets Nedda with a laugh. It is Silvio, one of
the villagers, whom she has met on previous visits and found much to her
liking. She is alarmed at the sight of him during broad daylight, but he
reassures her, for he has left Canio with Beppe at the tavern, where they
are drinking and are likely to remain.
Nedda tells Silvio of the clown's threats, bidding him be cautious; but the
young villager laughs at her fears, and consoles her by pleading his own
love with great earnestness. He begs her to run away with him to some place
where they can be happy. Nedda is greatly fascinated, yet remains fearful;
she is so charming when she implores him not to tempt her that he only grows
more impetuous in his lovemaking. He reproaches her for her coldness, until
at last, throwing discretion to the winds, she yields herself to the bliss
of the moment and consents to go.
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Franco Corelli as
Canio |
They are so lost in the ecstasy of their
passion that they do not observe Canio, who, warned by the over-observant
Tonio, approaches just in time to hear Nedda's parting exclamation, "Till
tonight, then! And forever I'll be yours!" Canio is unable to restrain a
subdued "Ah!" Silvio disappears over the wall, and Canio, who has not seen
his face, runs to follow him. Nedda bars the way. Canio thrusts her aside in
fierce anger and leaps over the wall in pursuit. He is too late, for Silvio
knows a path hidden by the brush, and Canio fails to discover it. Tonio, who
is looking on, laughs in glee, and to Nedda's scornful "Bravo! Well done,
Tonio!" replies that he will do better next time. Canio returns out of
breath, exhausted, trembling with anger.
The outraged husband commands his wife to pronounce the name of her lover,
but she bravely refuses. Wild with jealousy, he rushes at her with drawn
dagger. Beppe, who has returned unobserved, runs forward and holds him back.
People are coming from church, he says, it will soon be time for their
performance; they must hurry and dress for it. Nedda, glad for an excuse,
disappears into the tent-like stage; Beppe and Tonio go on about their work.
With bowed head, worn out by passion and jealousy, Canio remains alone to
consider his fate. Heavy chords are played by the orchestra as he meditates,
"Recitar! mentre preso dal delirio" ("To perform, while in this frenzy").
He continues, singing the famous arioso of heart-rending pathos "Vesti la
giubba," freely rendered in English as "On with the play." He moves slowly
toward the theater, sobbing. Reaching the curtain that opens on the little
stage, he pushes it roughly, as if not wanting to enter; then, seized by a
new fit of sobbing, he again buries his face in his hands. Finally he takes
several steps toward the curtain from which he had recoiled in fury, enters,
and disappears.
ACT II
SCENE: The same. It is the hour appointed for the performance. Tonio is
beating the drum to summon the villagers—it would seem rather to drown out
their animated chatter as they rapidly congregate. Silvio also arrives, to
feast his eyes on Nedda, greeting his friends among the spectators as he
takes his seat. All are excited. Some exclaim as they enter, “Let's try to
put ourselves well up in front there!'' Others, true villagers impatient for
the show, ask, "What are you waiting for? Why this delaying? Everyone's
here!" Then as the play begins, all shout, “Keep quiet! Be still!''
The curtains of the theater are drawn aside, revealing this scene, roughly
painted: a small room with two side doors and a window at the back. A plain
table and two ordinary chairs are at the right. Nedda is there alone,
dressed in the costume of Columbine. She seems to be nervously awaiting
someone, although she informs her audience that her husband will not be home
till late this evening. From outside comes the sound of a guitar and
Columbine rushes toward the window with a little cry of joy. The voice of
Harlequin (Beppe) is heard without, singing a serenade; the Italianate
melody is at once dainty and sentimental; the words, a bit extravagant, are
perfectly in keeping with the character and the occasion, "0 Colombina" ("O
Columbine").
Before Harlequin can enter, however, Taddeo arrives (this clownish role is
justly assigned to Tonio), bearing a. basket. He sings a pompous greeting,
which brings a roar from the assembled villagers. He forthwith begins to
make love to Columbine. Her reply is a demand for the chicken he had been
sent to fetch; Taddeo kneels before her, holding up the fowl in grotesque
devotion. His buffoonery is cut short by Harlequin, who enters and leads him
out by the ear—to the delight of the village audience.
With Taddeo banished, the lovers can make merry. Harlequin gives his
Columbine a little vial, telling her to give it to Pagliaccio. Columbine
assents. Suddenly Taddeo reappears, bawling out in mock alarm,'' Be careful!
Pagliaccio is here!'' The "lovers" simulate the greatest alarm, while the
spectators applaud lustily. Harlequin leaps from the window just as
Pagliaccio enters. At that moment Columbine calls to Harlequin the very
words previously spoken to the villager Silvio, "Till tonight, then! And
forever I’ll be yours!''
This is almost too much for Canio, who forgets for a moment his part of
Pagliaccio. Then, recalling that he is supposed to be acting, he continues
with his lines. "Who has been here with you? Tell me his name?" She insists
that it was only Taddeo the clown, who, having rushed into hiding, now calls
from the closet, "Believe her, sir, she is faithful! Ah, they could never
lie, those lips." There is more laughter from the spectators.
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Luciano Pavarotti as
Canio |
Again Canio
forgets his part, he demands, "Woman, it's your lover's name I want!" Nedda,
still boldly playing Columbine, replies jokingly, "Pagliaccio! Pagliaccio!"
This reminder of his part only angers the jealous actor; throwing aside his
role, he answers, to music of unusually ominous force, "No, Pagliaccio non
son" ("No! Pagliaccio no more!"). And in a long speech he tells her that he
is a man seeking vengeance. Overwhelmed, he sinks on the chair by the table.
The audience, not knowing that this has no part in the play, cries, "Bravo!"
Pale, but courageous, Nedda continues the role of Columbine; to a frivolous
gavotte tune she remarks that the man who was with her was only the harmless
Harlequin. The villagers start to laugh, but stop short on seeing the
expression on Canio's face. They begin to realize that this is no mere
play-acting. The faithful Beppe approaches in the background; he would
interfere, but Tonio craftily holds him back. Canio, crazed with anger and
jealousy, again demands her lover's name; again Nedda refuses, boldly
declaring, '' I will not speak! No, not even if you kill me!" In their
excitement, the villagers have risen to their feet, overturning benches;
some of the women run away. Silvio draws his dagger, but the men near him,
not understanding his excitement, hold him back. Nedda tries to escape
toward the spectators, but Canio is too quick. With lightning speed he
seizes her. There is a sudden flash, and he plunges his dagger into her
heart, crying, ''To you! To you!'' She shrieks, then falls with a choking
sound. Making a last faint effort, she calls, "Help me, Silvio!" The young
villager breaks away from the men holding him and runs to his beloved.
Muttering, "Ah, it's you!" Canio springs forward and strikes the dagger into
him. Then, as if stupefied, he lets the knife fall and, addressing his
audience for the last time, says with most bitter irony, "La commedia è
finita!" ("The comedy is ended!").
From
"The Victor Book of the Opera" 13th Edition © 1929, 1949, 1953,
1968
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