has taken homeward to die.  But now we get a renewal of the furious energy of the tournament scene.  As Tannhaeuser declares his intention of returning to Venus, the music crackles and roars for a moment; then it subsides to broken phrases of utter despair as he describes his journey to Rome.  The Dresden Amen accompanies him at first with ethereal effect, and afterwards with the utmost grandeur, as he tells how he knelt before the Rood to pray—­in a few bars every aspect of St. Peter’s is brought to our minds, and the atmosphere and colour.  Wagner himself never surpassed the declamatory passage of the pope’s curse.  Bach and Mozart knew how to write recitative, but they rarely attempted to fill it with anything approaching the intensity of meaning with which this terrible recitative is filled.  Then, again, the music boils, and with unearthly effects the themes from the Hoerselberg scene sound out, now from behind the scenes, now from the orchestra; the thing grows madder and more mad, until suddenly Wolfram perceives the bier bearing Elisabeth being carried down.  “Elisabeth!” he cries, and a requiem is heard from behind the scenes.  As a stage effect I know only one thing to match it.  In Hamlet the hero has been philosophizing to his heart’s content, when a funeral procession approaches—­

    Hamlet:  What, the fair Ophelia?

    Queen:  Sweets to the sweet, farewell....

Every one knows the magic of that stroke:  the abrupt change of key, the instant disappearance of bitterness, and the introduction of pathos and pure beauty; so here the Venusberg music disappears like a flame that is blown out.  “Elisabeth!” Tannhaeuser echoes, and the chorus chants solemnly “Der Seele Heil,” etc.  “Henry, thou art redeemed,” cries Wolfram; and then we have the final scene, the entry of the young penitents with the pope’s staff.  The final chorus is effective enough, though it suggests the audience getting up and looking for their hats.

As a whole, the music of Tannhaeuser is characterized by intense energy, the greatest definiteness, and richness and gorgeousness of colouring.  Inviting as must have been the opportunities offered in the opening scene of indulging in a riot of voluptuous colour, the definiteness is never lost.  Through the whirling, dancing-mad accompaniment runs a fibre of strong, clean-cut, sinewy melody.  The picture is drawn with firm strokes as well as painted with a full brush.  Or perhaps the better analogy would be to describe each scene as an architecturally constructed fabric; and each is also so constructed as to lead inevitably into the next.  Hence, as already pointed out, the artistic restraint and breadth in scenes where, with such heat of passion at work, we might fear spasmodic jerkiness.