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in Three Acts 

Music by Gaetano Donizetti 

Libretto by 
Salvatore Cammarano 

Based on Sir Walter Scott’s novel ‘‘ The Bride of Lammermoor” 

First performed at the San Carlo Theater, Naples, September 26, 1835 


LANCIA OF dementi; do Ed Sox wa he PRG Toles E Roberta Peters, Soprano 
Edgardo, made of Ravowwghl Font cirie ili ener ee Jan Peerce, 7enor 
Lord Enrico Ashton of Lammermoor, Lucia’s brother. ................... Philip Maero, Baritone 
Raimondo Bide-the-Bent, chaplain at Lammermoor. ............LL Giorgio Tozzi, Bass 
Lord Arturo Bucklaw, Lucia’s prospective husband. ..................... Piero De Palma, Tenor 
Alia, sonno to DU: iii ns Mitì Truccato Pace, Mezzo-soprano 
Nomnanna, polcer of Lord Asbi iii eo Mario Carlin, Tenor 

Friends, Relatives and Followers of Ashton 

Rome Opera House Orchestra and Chorus 
Erich Leinsdorf, Conductor 

Giuseppe Conca, Chorus Master 
Luigi Ricci, Assistant Conductor 

(Recorded in the Rome Opera House, Italy) 

The action takes place in Scotland near the close of 

the seventeenth century. 

was a young unknown coloratura 
soprano when she was catapulted 
to fame by a brilliant debut at the 
Metropolitan Opera as a last- 
minute substitution in the role 
of Zerlina in Don Giovanni. The 
impression she made that evening 
has been richly confirmed in sub- 
sequent appearances as Rosina in 
The Barber of Seville, Gilda in 
Rigoletto, the Queen of the Night 
in The Magic Flute, Sophie in 
Der Rosenkavalier, Amor in Orfeo 
ed Euridice, Adele in Fledermaus 
and as Lucia. Her first appearance 
in Lucia di Lammermoor at the Met 

« (Edgardo) 

brilliant international career dates 
from his Metropolitan Opera 
debut as Alfredo in La Traviata. 
He immediately established him- 
self as leading tenor and bulwark 
of the Italian wing of the com- 
pany. Among his many roles are 
the Duke in Rigoletto, Rodolfo in 
La Bohéme, Don Ottavio in Don 
Giovanni, Cavaradossi in Tosca and 
Edgardo in Lucia di Lammermoor. 
He was chosen many times by 
Toscanini to sing leading roles in 
his operatic broadcasts, including 
La Bohème, La Traviata, Fidelio 
and A Masked Ball. 

is an American-born baritone who 
has scored impressively in concert 
and opera both in Europe and the 
United States. As soloist with 
R.A.I. Radio of Torino and 
Milano and the Academy of 
St. Cecilia in Rome, he sang in 
the world premiéres of Malipiero’s 
Figliuol Prodigo, Pizzetti’s Cagli- 
ostro and Porrino’s Processo di Cristo. 

was on February 1, 1956. 



made his Metropolitan Opera 
debut in 1955 after having won 
high acclaim in leading European 
opera houses. One of the most 
outstanding young bassos at the 
Met, he has appeared as Spara- 
fucile in Rigoletto, Ramfis in Aida, 
Philip in Don Carlo, Colline in 
La Bohème, Don Silva in Ernani, 
Figaro in The Marriage of Figaro, 
Pogner in Die Meistersinger and 
Raimondo in Lucia di Lammermoor. 

was principal conductor of the 
Metropolitan Opera’s German 
wing for four seasons after his de- 
but there conducting Die Walkiire. 
Subsequently named conductor 
of the Cleveland Orchestra and 
Music Director of the Rochester 
Philharmonic, he was director of 
the New York City Opera for the 
1956-57 season. In addition to 
guest appearances with the Met, 
San Francisco Opera and major 
American symphony orchestras, 
he has conducted the leading or- 

chestras of Europe. 

The Bride of Lammermoor 

In the early 1920s Puccini approached Ferenc Molnar 
with a proposition. He wanted to write an opera on 
Liliom. It had become a Puccini custom, and a highly 
profitable one, to look first to the theater for his subjects. 

If he understood a play in a language he did not know, 
he once said, then he knew he had found a good libretto. 
His requirements, says Vincent Seligman, were that it 
should be simple, straightforward, dramatic—and that 
its actions should be intelligible to a deaf-mute. This had 
worked brilliantly with Tosca and Butterfly. In Liliom he 
hoped for the same results. 

At that time Molnar’s curious amalgam of realism and 
fantasy was packing them in in almost every country of 
the civilized world. He didn’t need the money and he 

“Why?” Puccini asked. 

“Because,” replied the playwright, ‘‘ Lz/zom would then 
be remembered not as a play by Molnar but as an opera 
by Puccini.” 

This is precisely what happened in the case of Lucia di 
Lammermoor and The Bride of Lammermoor on which it is 
based. It is no exaggeration to say that Donizetti’s opera 
has a bigger public than all the novels of Sir Walter 
Scott put together. 

Donizetti’s librettist did a masterful job of compressing 
Scott’s sprawling tale, with its manifold characters and 
wealth of local color, into suitable operatic material and 
it is said that the composer himself wrote the text for the 
last act. 

For a romantic novel, the mad scene in the book is 
startlingly realistic. Set to music literally, it would re- 
quire a Richard Strauss of the Elektra days. Here is a 

“There was no private passage from the room, and 
they began to think that she must have thrown herself 
from the window, when one of the company, holding his 
torch lower than the rest, discovered something white 
in the corner of the great old-fashioned chimney of the 
apartment. Here they found the unfortunate girl, seated, 
or rather crouched like a hare upon its form—her head- 
gear disheveled; her night clothes torn and dabbled with 

Mr. Robinson, Assistant Manager of the Metropolitan Opera, is the author of 
Caruso: His Life in Pictures, published by Thomas Y. Crowell Company. 

by Francis Robinson 

blood—her eyes glazed, and her features convulsed into a 
wild paroxysm of insanity. When she saw herself dis- 
covered, she gibbered, made mouths, and pointed at 
them with her bloody fingers, with the frantic gesture of 
an exulting demoniac.” 

And again, ‘the unhappy bride was overpowered not 
without the use of some force. As they carried her over 
the threshold she looked down and uttered the only 
articulate words that she had yet spoken, saying with a 
grinning exultation, ‘So you have ta’en up your bonny 
bridegroom?’ °° 

Donizetti spares us the gory details. His Lucy makes 
her entrance on the startled guests (at the Metropolitan 
Opera down a long flight of stairs) singing an extended 
recitative in which she fancies she hears again the voice 
of her lover. In the aria she describes the wedding, 
apparently oblivious that it has already taken place and 
to another man. In the staging at La Scala the lights go 
down except on the unfortunate heroine. The guests are 
hardly visible and Lucia is left alone in her unreal world. 

Just as Donizetti made some alterations in the novel, 
Scott for his purposes made one important transposition 
in the actual story which had come down to him in a 
number of versions. The original of Lucy Ashton was a 
girl by the name of Janet Dalrymple. In life the husband, 
David Dunbar, survived his wife’s assault by twelve 
years and died in a fall from his horse. Lord Rutherford, 
the rejected lover, went into voluntary exile. Scott 
switches the fates of the two men. Bucklaw, the husband 
in the novel, leaves Scotland never to return while Lord 
Ravenswood meets his death in quicksand. It was an 
excellent move on the part of Donizetti and his librettist 
to make Lucia’s attack on her husband fatal. The plot is 
thereby considerably tightened and the atmosphere of 
gloom, so important in the over-all effect of the work, 

It can hardly be accident that the two masterpieces of 
Romantic ballet have major elements in common with 
Lucia. The setting of La Sylphide is Scotland while the 
first-act curtain of Giselle falls on a mad scene. The north 
country held a strong appeal to the nineteenth-century 
Romantic mind and operatic heroines before Donizetti’s 
had been known to take leave melodically of their senses 

followed by an obedient flute. It was something of a 

In I Puritani, which made its appearance only seven 
months before Lucia, Bellini allows his soprano to survive 
a mad scene and regain her reason in time for a happy 
ending. The denouement of his Sonnambula, produced 
four years earlier, is even more peculiar. In the final act 
we are treated, in keeping with the title, to the spectacle 
of a sleepwalking scene. 

Bellini died two days before the première of Lucia. A 
mutual friend of the two composers was kind enough to 
say to Donizetti, ‘What a pity Bellini is dead! Lucia 
would have been absolutely a subject for his fine musical 
vein, all passion and melancholy.”’ Donizetti, his pride 
wounded, replied, “I will torment what little talent I 
possess that I may succeed!” 

Lucia was a hit from the first. The next time he saw 
his friend Donizetti said, “I hope my Lucia has pleased 
you; have I wronged my friend Bellini? I imagined I was 
invoking his beautiful spirit and that inspired me...” 

Certainly Donizetti harbored no envy against his 
tragically short-lived compatriot. There is a story, per- 
haps apocryphal, of an energetic lady who once managed 
to lure Rossini and Donizetti to her drawing room the 
same evening. When the party was at its height she 
passed out manuscript paper and bade her guests com- 
pose. In the short pieces the two men turned in there 
were a few bars with the identical melody, the same 
rhythm, even the same tonality. 

“Ah,” gasped the delighted hostess, “you see! It is 
possible for two great creative talents to arrive inde- 
pendently at the same result!” 

Donizetti forthwith deflated this pretty conceit. “Of 
course, Madame,” he said gravely. “We both stole it 
from Bellini.” 

Although parts of Lucia are reminiscent of Bellini, the 
work is emphatically Donizetti’s own. There is very 
little that came before it to compare with what is still 
the most famous concerted number in all opera, the 
Sextet. In this great climax six characters pour their 
conflicting emotions into one majestic flow of sound. 

Donizetti came honestly by his predilection for Scot- 
land, by inheritance as well as romantic inclination. 
His grandfather is said to have been a Scotsman, one 
Donald Izett, a weaver from Perth. Another published 
account has it that Izett, having found fortune in Italy, 
took unto himself the prefix Don and thus handed down 
to his children the name Donizetti. 

Bergamo was Donizetti’s birthplace, November 29, 

1797. His father was a minor government official who 
wanted his son to be a lawyer, but the boy’s artistic 
bent led him first to architecture and then to music. 
He studied in Naples and Bologna and on his return 
to Bergamo his father insisted he give lessons to earn 
his living. 

To escape his practical parent he joined the army, 
an odd avenue of escape, but luckily his regiment was 
stationed in Venice where he took part in the thriving 
musical life of that city. It was in Venice that his first 
opera, Enrico di Borgogna, was revealed in 1818. Sixty-three 
or sixty-four operas (the music historians do not agree) 
followed in rapid succession, two or three a year, for 
the next twenty-five years. 

He has been criticized for the speed with which he 
wrote. Such a rate, the pundits say with some justifica- 
tion, made revision impossible. He once completed the 
orchestration of an entire opera in thirty hours. He 
tossed off Edgardo’s final aria in thirty minutes. Never 
mind. What composer wouldn’t be proud to put his 
name on Lucia or L’Elisir d’ Amore (said to have been 
thrown together from commissioning to first performance 
in two weeks) or Don Pasquale? 

Two more operas saw the light in Venice and £oraîde 
di Granata, produced in Rome in 1822, won him military 
exemption with honors. He was carried through the 
streets like a hero. From then on he could devote himself 
entirely to music. New works literally rolled off him. 

Milan, that most impregnable of musical fortresses, 
fell before his Anna Bolena. His fame was now secure. 
Brockway and Weinstock, in The Opera, dismiss this 
work as “not among the presentable.” “Its glory de- 
parted,” they write, ‘with the great trio who sang it in 
its youth” —Pasta as the hapless second wife of Henry 
VIII, Rubini as Percy, and Lablache as the Tudor 
monarch. It recently had a brilliant revival at the 
selfsame Scala where the première stood them on their 
ears ‘127 years before. 

Donizetti paid his first visit to Paris in 1835 but 
Puritani, which had opened there only a short time before, 
was the rage and he had no success. Back in Italy he 
was commissioned by the Society of Industry and Fine 
Arts of Naples to write a new opera. The fact that three 
other composers had used The Bride of Lammermoor did 
not stop him from turning to Scott’s novel for his plot. 
The enormous success of Lucia was consolation for his 
failure in Paris. 

Eventually he made his conquest of the French cap- 
ital. La Fille du Régiment had its first performance at the 

Opéra-Comique but did not catch on until it had made 
the rounds of practically every theater in Germany and 
Italy. ‘The first Paris production of Lucrezia Borgia was 
interrupted by a plagiarism suit brought by Victor Hugo 
who tried the same thing later, unsuccessfully, at the 
Paris premiére of zgoletto based on another of his 

La Favorita, a sadly neglected work, is another example 
of Donizetti’s facility. The dramatic final act, infinitely 
superior to the three preceding, is the product, text as 
well as music, of a single night’s labor. Fernando was an 
early Caruso role. He sang it in his Neapolitan days and 
at the Metropolitan and he recorded the lovely fourth- 
act aria, Spirito gentil, for Victor. O mio Fernando is a lasting 
favorite of the mezzo-soprano repertoire. There is also a 
fine bass part for the venerable and inevitable priest. 

Linda di Chamounix was written for Vienna and most 
favorably received. Both it and The Daughter of the 
Regiment have been revived in our day for Lily Pons. 
Don Pasquale, with its libretto of Donizetti’s own making, 
was, is, and will always be a hit when cast with taste 
and skill. There was an enchanting revival at the 
Metropolitan with Roberta Peters in 1955. The Norinas 
before her had been Bori and Sembrich to the Don 
Pasquales, respectively, of de Luca and Scotti. 

“Historians speak respectfully, as in duty bound,” 
writes Ernest Newman, “of Paisiello’s The Barber of 
Seville (1780); but the fact remains that of the enormous 
repertory of Italian comic opera of the last quarter of 
the eighteenth century and the first half of the nineteenth 
only three works still keep the boards intact, not merely 
respected as museum pieces but admired as masterpieces 
that seem, for all the changes that have taken place in 
music since their day, to be perennially young. These 
three works are Rossini’s The Barber of Seville (1816), 
Donizetti’s L’Eliser d Amore (1832), and his Don Pasquale 
(1843), which was nearly the last of its composer’s 
sixty-odd operas.” 

It is ironical that at the time Donizetti’s delightful 
comedy made its appearance he was showing alarming 
signs of exhaustion and melancholia. Already he was 
suffering from the cerebro-spinal ailment which eventu- 
ally took his life. The end was long and terrible. 

His condition was aggravated by the failure of his 
next opera, an ambitious work entitled Don Sebastiano. 
A paralytic stroke in 1845 deprived him of his reason. 
Almost the whole of 1846 and the first half of 1847 he 
lay in an asylum in a state of complete mental and 
physical prostration. As a last resort, in October of 

1847, he was taken home to Bergamo. There he died, 
April 8, 1848. 

He was buried some little distance from the town, 
where he lay until September 12, 1875, when he was 
given the belated honor of burial in the Church of 
Santa Maria Maggiore under a fancy monument com- 
plete with piano keys. The little opera house in Bergamo 
bears his name. 

The first American performance of Lucia occurred 
during the composer’s lifetime and only six years after 
the Naples premiére. It took place not in New York 
but in New Orleans, December. 28, 1841. The first 
performance in New York was at Niblo’s Garden, 
September 15, 1843, and there was a production in 
English at the Park Theatre two years later. 

The record of Lucia in New York alone as a vehicle 
for debutantes is unique. At the age of sixteen Adelina 
Patti made her first appearance on any stage in the 
title role at the Academy of Music in New York. Accord- 
ing to contemporary testimony, the youthful prima 
donna’s stays were so tightly laced her ribs crossed. 

The year of Patti’s debut, 1859, was the year of 
Melba’s birth and Lucia was the Australian diva’s first 
role in America, December 4, 1893, at the Metropolitan. 
Three years before there was a notable revival at the 
Metropolitan for Patti. 

Lucia was the second work presented at the Met- 
ropolitan, October 24, 1883, and served to introduce 
Marcella Sembrich to America. She had made her 
London debut three years previously in the title part. 

Lily Pons made operatic history with her Metropolitan 
debut as Lucia, January 3, 1931. Twenty-five years 
later on the same stage Miss Pons sang the Mad Scene 
in a gala celebrating a quarter-century’s continuous 
service there, a unique record for a leading soprano. 

Amelita Galli-Curci, the finest Lucia of her time, 
made her North American debut in Chicago in Rigoletto, 
her New York debut (with the Chicago Opera) in 
Dinorah and her Metropolitan debut in La Traviata, 
but she sang Lucia at the Metropolitan in her first season 
there and the management considered the event of 
sufficient importance to provide new scenery. 

When touched by a Galli-Curci the beloved old war- 
horse comes to life. The score ceases to be merely an 
excuse for vocal pyrotechnics and we have the picture 
of a girl in very real distress, caught and pressed beyond 
endurance. It is the same spell which Markova casts 
over Giselle, all bruised innocence and tenderness and 
infinite pathos. Somehow you believe it. 

It has always been so. Chorley, by no means an ad- 
mirer of Jenny Lind, writes of the Swedish Nightingale: 

“She was the only Lucia (as was pointed out to me 
by M. Berlioz) who prepared for the last dismal heart- 
break by the agony in the moment when she is impressed 
with the falsehood of her lover by her haughty and 
tyrannical brother. Her madness was fearfully touching 
in proportion as it had been foreseen.” 

Three of the principals in the present cast have sung 
their roles in Lucia at the Metropolitan. Before she under- 
took Lucia Miss Peters had already acquitted herself 
nobly in the other arduous roles of the coloratura reper- 
toire — Gilda, Rosina, 
the Queen of the Night, 

to Raimondo, as he does to everything he undertakes— 
bigness of frame, voice, personality, and conception 
of character. 

Maestro Leinsdorf’s activities are principally in the 
German wing but he came to the Metropolitan on 
Toscanini’s recommendation which should constitute a 
passport to the Italian repertoire anytime, anywhere. 

Lucia is well into its second century. It is difficult to 
put a finger on its precise hold over the public imagina- 
tion. Its method is simple and direct in the extreme. 
“If you want to find out if a certain piece of music is 
good,” Donizetti said, “play the melody without the 

In Act III of Anna 

and Fiakermilli in Rich- 

ard Strauss’ Arabella, to 
name but a few. 

When the long-play- 
ing record, Roberta Peters 
—Youngest Member of a 
Great Tradition, was is- 
sued a few years ago 
bracketing Miss Peters’ 
recordings with those 
of the greatest sopranos 
of the past fifty years, 
there were those who 
thought RCA Victor 
might be acting a bit 
prematurely. ‘The com- 
pany’s faith was justi- 
fied. The young so- 
prano’s career has been 
a steady rise from her 
surprise debut, Novem- 
ber 1:7, 1950. 

To be thrust on the Metropolitan stage for the first 
time and particularly without previous experience is, 
in the words of Rudolf Bing, ‘a shock few survive.” 
Miss Peters, he added, did. This is higher than any 
critic’s praise. 

Edgardo was Mr. Peerce’s third part at the Met- 
ropolitan. His delivery of the music makes one under- 
stand why Jenny Lind looked askance at Lucia. The 
right tenor in the Tomb Scene can hold his own against 
any soprano’s antics in the scene preceding. What must 
have been Sembrich’s feelings, who came to the Met- 
ropolitan twenty-one years before, when she first heard 
the young Caruso’s Edgardo? Mr. Tozzi brings bigness 

Bolena there is a melody 
which we know as Home, 
Sweet Home. For genera- 
tions the Home Book of 
Songs on the old parlor 
upright told us this tune 
is Sir Henry R. Bishop’s. 
He used it to the beloved 
words of John Howard 
Payne in an opera, Clari, 
or the Maid of Milan. 
But he published it first 
asa “Sicilian folk melody.” 
Did Donizetti steal it 
from Bishop, as he ad- 
mittedly lifted from 
Bellini in the musical 
charade, or did he know 
the same ‘Sicilian folk 
melody” original the 
Englishman discovered? 

Years before the chil- 
dren in Germany sang O du frohliche around the Christ- 
mas tree, Sicilian sailors were singing the same tune to 
other words. Theirs was a hymn to the Blessed Virgin 
beginning O Sanctissima, 0 piissima. You will find the 
music in many Protestant hymnals today to the words 
Lord, Dismiss Us with Thy Blessing. In the upper right 
hand corner the only source credited to the music is 
Sicilian Mariners’ Hymn—no name, rarely a date. 

In what tavern might Donizetti have heard the inde- 
structible tune which is the top line of the Sextet? 

Melody, beautiful melody—perhaps there is the answer. 
Certainly, like a touch of nature, it makes the whole 
world kin. 

The Story of the Opera 


SCENE 1: A Wood Near Lammermoor. In the somber 
gardens of Lammermoor Castle, the guards and their 
leader, Normanno, are discussing a stranger who has 
been seen prowling around the place, perhaps on secret 
mischief. ‘The guards leave hurriedly to search for him, 
but Normanno remains behind to suggest to Lord Enrico 
Ashton, who now enters, that the intruder may very 
likely be none other than Edgardo of Ravenswood. 
Lord Enrico is Edgardo’s mortal enemy and has recently 
acquired through treachery the Ravenswood estates. ‘The 
talkative Normanno further narrates, in the hearing of 
the kindly disposed Raimondo Bide-the-Bent, that one 
day Lord Enrico’s sister, Lucia, was saved from the 
attack of an angry bull by some unknown person. She 
has fallen in love with him and secretly meets him every 
day. Lord Ashton’s anger grows even more intense when 
the guards report that they saw the intruder and were 
able to recognize him as the hated Edgardo. Ashton 
vows speedy vengeance. 

SCENE 2: A Park Near the Castle. Lucia, accompanied 
by her maid, Alisa, awaits Edgardo at their daily trysting 
place. She looks with dread at a fountain near by and 
tells Alisa the legend about one of the Ravenswoods who 
stabbed his sweetheart beside it. To a wistful, pathetic 
melody she vows that she has seen in the dark waters an 
apparition of the murdered woman, in the aria “‘ Regnava 
nel silenzio” (‘The night reigned in silence”). 

Edgardo arrives, a gloomy figure with black-plumed 
cavalier hat and cloak of sable. This, he tells her, must 
be their last meeting, for he has been ordered to France. 
But he proposes first to go to Enrico and endeavor to end 
the mortal feud which exists between the two families. 
Lucia, knowing her brother only too well, declares that 
it would be useless, and entreats Edgardo to keep their 
Excerpted from 

The Victor Book of Operas and reprinied by permission of 
Simon and Schuster, Inc. 

love secret lest they will be forever parted. The informa- 
tion causes Edgardo again to renew his vow of vengeance. 
Then they begin their lovely duet of parting, ‘ Verranno 
a te sull’ aure” (‘My ardent sighs will come to you”). 
Both impassionedly unite again, repeating their vow 
of devotion. 


SCENE 1: An Anteroom in Lammermoor Castle. Edgardo 
was mistaken in his supposition that Lord Ashton’s 
conduct is entirely a matter of hatred. In reality Ashton 
is in desperate straits and his only chance to improve 
his fortune is to have Lucia marry Lord Arturo Bucklaw. 
He intercepts all of Lucia’s and Edgardo’s letters, and 
now he has forged in Ravenswood’s handwriting a letter 
which seems to prove beyond doubt that Lucia is 
betrayed, her lover having deserted her for another. 
Ashton heaps upon her his scorn for having dared love 
his enemy and asserts that he will be disgraced and 
ruined unless she consents to marry Lord Arturo Buck- 
law, as he has arranged. The unfortunate girl, stricken 
nearly dumb with grief, finally consents to the sacrifice. 

SCENE 2: The Great Hall of the Castle. In the great 
armorial hall of the castle, knights and ladies are 
assembled to witness the wedding, and sing a gay chorus 
of welcome; but the pale, agitated appearance of the 
bride gives the lie to their joyful song. Ashton tries to 
explain away her condition by saying that she still 
mourns her mother. Wan and almost fainting, she is 
escorted to the table where a notary is preparing the 
marriage papers; then with trembling hands she signs 
the document that makes her Lady Arturo Bucklaw. 

No sooner has she set down the pen than a stranger 
enters the room. All eyes are turned upon him in fear 
and amazement. Edgardo of Ravenswood, sword in 
hand, pistol in belt, stalks boldly toward the table. 
At this most dramatic moment begins the famous Sextet, 

“Chi mi frena?” (What restrains me?”). Its flowing 
melody, majestic rhythm, gorgeous harmonies, and 
soaring climax are known to all; but only those who 
know the action of the opera can fully realize how 
magnificently it expresses in sound the conflicting 
emotions of this scene. It begins with Edgardo and 
Enrico; Edgardo wonders why he has not rushed ahead 
to claim his vengeance and, on beholding the despairing 
Lucia, realizes that he still loves her. Enrico fears for 
his own future and the effect that this excitement may 
have on his sister. The voices of Lucia and Raimondo 
enter, Lucia expressing her despair that death has not 
come to save her from this grief and shame, Raimondo 
kindly praying that heaven will aid and protect her. 
Now the voices of Alisa and the attendant knights and 
ladies unite in this prayer, but above the outpouring 
of all these conflicting feelings rise the tones of Lucia’s 
lament, forming a climax of stirring effect. 

The eternal enemies, Edgardo and Ashton, rush at 
one another with drawn swords, but Raimondo restrains 
them, bidding them both, in heaven’s name, to sheathe 
their weapons. Coldly asking Edgardo the reason for 
his unwelcome visit, Ashton shows him the marriage 
contract. Unable to believe his eyes, Ravenswood turns 
to Lucia for confirmation; forlorn and in misery she 
tremblingly nods assent. Edgardo, in furious rage, calls 
down the curse of heaven on Lucia and all her hated 
family and rushes away. 


SCENE 1: The Hall at Lammermoor Castle. Meanwhile, 
at the castle, the wedding guests are still feasting and 
making merry. Suddenly the laughter ceases and the 
song dies upon their lips as Raimondo enters, horror- 
stricken, and cries out that Lucia has gone mad and slain 
her husband. An instant later Lucia herself appears, pale 
and lovely, robed in white, her hair loose upon her 
shoulders. In her eyes gleams an unnatural light and her 
face bears the tender, questioning expression of one who 
strives to recall a dream. Her brain unable to endure a 
suffering too intense, Lucia is mad, indeed; but she is 
happy in her madness, for she believes herself with her 
lover. Singing a melody of great sweetness, she imagines 
that she and Edgardo are being married. And here is the 

? which is anything but a colora- 

famous ‘Mad Scene,’ 
tura holiday. 

Heard outside of the opera, this number seems hardly 
more than an unusually brilliant, florid aria. But in its 
proper setting, caroled out by the demented Lucia amid 
the startled retainers, it takes on an ironic character 
quite its own. The scales seem what they are, the audible 
wanderings of a mind distraught. The flute joins her in 
these difficult cadenzas, forming an ensemble effect of 
great brilliance and loveliness. After a brief interruption 
by Ashton, she resumes her song. Still imagining that 
Edgardo is with her, she kneels and begs him not to 
leave; then requests, ‘‘ Spargi d’amaro pianto” (“Shed no 
bitter tears”). 

She sings this to a whimsical melody, half sad, half 
gay. Then growing more and more agitated at the 
thought that she will await her beloved in heaven, her 
voice rises ever higher, until at the end she falls swooning 
into Alisa’s arms. 

SCENE 2: The Tombs of the Ravenswoods. As the night 
wears on, the lights still winking gaily from the castle at 
Lammermoor convey to the silent watcher who stands 
amid the graves of the Ravenswoods no knowledge of 
these tragic events. In somber meditation, he solilo- 
quizes, ‘“ Tombe degli avi miei, l’ultimo avanzo @una stirpe 
infelice. Deh! Raccogliete voi!”’ (“Tombs of my ancestors, 
the last am I of a doomed race. Gather me unto 
you !”). Then, his thoughts instinctively turning to Lucia, 
Edgardo decries Lucia’s apparent treachery. Yet even as 
in self-pity he heaps reproaches upon the absent Lucia, 
he notes a train of mourners coming from the castle. He 
inquires of whom they lament. And they tell him of 
Lucia’s madness and of her love for him. She lies, they 
say, in the castle at the point of death. And as they speak, 
the sound of a tolling bell announces her death. 

The reality of the tragedy dawning upon him, he vows 
that he has decided his own fate; he, too, will die, hoping 
to join Lucia in heaven. And he expresses these senti- 
ments in the aria‘ Tu che a Dio spiegasti Pali” (“Thou hast 
spread thy wings”). The others, including Raimondo, 
try to desist him from his suicidal purpose, but he 
plunges his dagger into his heart, and, as the chorus 
prays for his pardon, expires. 


LUCIA di LAMMERMOOR tizn-zngish citrate 

New English Text by Anne Grossman 


Scene 1: A Wood Near Lammermoor 



Percorriamo le spiaggie vicine, 
Della torre le vaste rovine; 

Cada il vel di sì turpe mistero, 

Lo domanda . . . lo impone l’onor. 
Splenderà l’esecrabile vero 

Come lampo fra nubi d’orror, 
L’onor lo vuol. 

Search! All of you! 

Search the whole area 

Around the tower ruins. 

We must unravel this mystery! 
Honor demands it. 

Though the truth be horrible, 
Honor demands it. 

(Exit chorus. Enter ENRICO and Raimondo; 
ENRICO very upset) 

(respectfully to ENRICO) 

Tu sei turbato! 

E n’ho ben d’onde. Il sai; 
Dei miei destini impallidì la stella . . . 

Intanto Edgardo. . . quel mortale nemico 

Di mia prosapia, dalle sue rovine 
Erge la fronte baldanzosa e ride! 
Sola una mano raffermar mi puote 
Nel vacillante mio poter . . . Lucia 

Osa respinger quella mano... Ah! Suora 

Non m'è colei! 

You look so worried! 


There’s good reason. 

You know that I’m almost ruined... 
And that Edgardo, my mortal enemy, 
Watches from his battered 

Fortress and gloats. 

One person alone can save me. 

But Lucia refuses to marry him. 

Ah, she’s no sister of mine! 


Vergin, che geme sull’urna recente 
Di cara madre, al talamo potria 

Volger lo sguardo? Rispettiamo un core 

Che trafitto dal duol, schivo è d’amore. 

Poor thing, 

She still mourns her mother’s death. 
How can she think of marriage? 

A heart so full of sorrow 

Has no room for love. 



Schivo d’amor? ... Lucia 
D’amor avvampa. 

No room for love? Lucia 
Is afire with love. 


Che favelli? 

What are you saying? 


(Oh detto!) 

(Oh, God!) 


M?udite. Ella sen gia colà del parco 
Nel solingo vial dove la madre 

Giace sepolta. Impetuoso toro 

Ecco su lei s'avventa . . . 

Quando per l’aria rimbombar si sente 
Un colpo, e al suol repente 

Cade la belva. 

Listen to me. She was walking, 
As usual, in the deserted park 
Near her mother’s grave, 

When suddenly a maddened bull 
Attacked her. At that moment 

A shot was heard, 

And the bull fell dead. 


E chi vibrò quel colpo? 

Who fired the shot? 

Tal... che il suo nome ricoprì d’un velo. A man—who refused to give his name. 

Lucia forse... 

Dunque il rivide. 
Ogni alba... 

E dove? 

In quel viale. 

Io fremo! 
Ne tu scovristi il seduttor? 

Io n’ho soltanto. 

Ah! Parla. 

E tuo nemico. 

(Oh ciel!) 

Tu lo detesti. 

Esser potrebbe . . . Edgardo. 


Lo dicesti. 

Cruda, funesta smania 

Tu m'hai svegliata in petto! 
È troppo, è troppo orribile 
Questo fatal sospetto! 

Mi fa gelare e fremere . . . 
Solleva in fronte il crin. 
Colma di tanto opprobrio 
Chi suora a me nascea. 


And Lucia? 

Loves him. 

And sees him? 


Every morning. 


In the park. 

Did you recognize him? 

I have my suspicions. 

Well, speak out! 


Your enemy. 

(Good God!) 

Your most hated enemy! 





What you tell me 
Makes my blood boil! 
It’s too horrible— 
This awful suspicion 
Makes me shudder, 

I cannot believe it. 
My sister has covered 
Herself with shame. 

Pietoso al tuo decoro, 
To fui con te crudel. 

(La tua clemenza imploro; 
Tu lo smentisci, oh Ciel!) 

Ah! Pria che d’amor si perfido 
A me svelarti rea 
Se ti colpisse un fulmine .. . 


I tell you this 
Only out of friendship. 


(God in heaven, 
Have mercy on us!) 


Ah! I would rather 
See my sister dead 
Than believe this of her! 



Fora men rio dolor! 

Oh God! 


Then at least I’d not suffer so much 


(running in; to NORMANNO.) 

Il tuo dubbio è omai certezza. 

Odi tu? 


Your suspicions were right 

(to ENRICO) 
Do you hear? 

Tell me! 


(Oh giorno!) 

Come vinti da stanchezza, 
Dopo lungo errar d’intorno, 
Noi posammo della torre 
Nel vestibolo cadente: 

Ecco tosto lo trascorre 

In silenzio un uom pallente. 
Come appresso ei n’è venuto 
Ravvisiam lo sconosciuto: 

Ei su rapido destriero 

S’involò dal nostro sguardo . . . 

Qual s’appella, un falconiero 

Ne apprendeva, qual s’appella. 

E quale? 



Oh rabbia, oh rabbia che m’accendi, 

Contenerti un cor non può. 

Ah, no, non credere . .. 

No, contenerti un cor non può 
No, non può! No, no! 

. . + Deh sospendi! . .. 
ee liany- Ah! 

No, no. 


(This is dreadful!) 


Weary and exhausted 

From searching the grounds, 
We were resting a moment 
Near the ruined 

Tower entrance, 

When a man emerged. 

We recognize the face. 

He leaped on his horse 

And vanished 

In the distance. 

But a falconer who was near 
Told us who it was. 



This rage I feel 
Is more than I can bear. 
Ah, no, don’t believe them— 
No, no— 

I tell you it’s more 
Than I can bear! 

Stop it, 
Stop it! 

No, no. 

Listen to me! 


Udir non vò! I won’t listen! b 
La pietade in suo favore You want me to have pity— 
Miti sensi invan mi detta... You are wasting your breath. 
Se mi parli di vendetta Pll listen when you 

Solo intender ti potrò. Speak of revenge. 

Sciagurati! . . . Il mio furore Traitors! 
Già su voi tremendo rugge . . . Beware of me! 
L’empia fiamma che vi strugge You'll pay for this treachery 
Io col sangue spegnerò. in blood! 

Sì sì spegnerò! 
Col sangue spegnerò! 

Ah, yes, you’ll pay 
For this treachery! 


No, no, you can’t! 
No, no, you can’t! 

No, no, non può! 
No, no, non può! 

Ah, yes, you’ll pay 
For this treachery! 

Sì, sì spegnerà! 
Sì, sì spegnerà! 

Scene 2: A Park Near the Castle 

A ruined fountain is seen—it is twilight. 
Lucia, extremely agitated, enters with ALISA. 


Ancor non giunse! He's not here yet. 

Incauta, a che mi traggi! Be careful! Don’t you realize 
Avventurarci or che il fratel qui venne, You?re taking a terrible risk 
E folle ardir. With your brother so near? 

Yes, I know—But I must warn 
Edgardo of the danger we run. 

Ben parli! Edgardo sappia 
Qual ne circonda orribile periglio . . . 

Perchè d’intorno il ciglio Why do you look about 
Volgi atterrita? So terrified? 


Quella fonte, ah! ... Mai That spring—I can’t look 
Senza tremar non veggo. . . Ah tu lo sai: At it without remembering 

Un Ravenswood, ardendo The story of a Ravenswood 

Di geloso furor, l'amata donna Who stabbed his mistress there. 
Colà trafisse; e l’infelice cadde She fell in the water, 
Nell’onda, ed ivi rimanea sepolta . . . Where she still remains. 
M’apparve l’ombra sua... I have seen her ghost... . 

Che dici! What nonsense! 


Ascolta: Listen: 

Regnava nel silenzio One night I was here; 
Alta la notte bruna... It was very dark— 
Colpia la fonte un pallido When a ray of moonlight 
Raggio di tetra luna... Fell on the fountain. 
Quando un sommesso gemito I heard a low moan, 

Fra laure udir si fè; And suddenly, 

Ed ecco su quel margine At the edge of the fountain, 
L’ombra mostrarsi a me, ah! I saw her! 

Qual di chi parla, muoversi Her lips moved, 

Il labbro suo vedea, But I couldn’t hear her. 
E con la mano esanime She seemed to beckon tc me. 
Chiamarmi a sè, parea. She stood there 

Stette un momento immobile, 
Poi ratta dileguò, 

E l’onda prià sì limpida 

Di sangue rosseggiò. 


Chiari, oh Dio! Ben chiari e tristi 
Nel tuo dir presagi intendo! 

Ah Lucia, Lucia desisti 

Da un amor così tremendo! 

A moment, motionless, 
Then she vanished. 

And I saw the clear water 
Had turned blood-red. 

My God, my God, the meaning of this 
Is all too clear! 

Ah, Lucia, Lucia, give up 

This dangerous affair! 


Egli è luce a giorni miei, 
È conforto al mio penar. 
Quando, rapito in estasi 
Del più cocente ardore, 
Col favellar del core 

Mi giura eterna fè, 

Gli aflanni miei dimentico, 
Gioia diviene il pianto . . . 
Parmi che a lui d’accanto 
Si schiuda il ciel per me! 

He is the light of my life, 
My comfort, 

My solace. 

When he speaks of love 

He speaks from his heart. 
His vow of eternal love 
Makes me forget my sorrows. 
When I am with him 

I am in heaven. 


Ah! Giorni d’amaro pianto 
Ah! S’apprestano per te. 
Ah! Lucia, ah! desisti! 

Ah, only great sorrow 
Is in store for you. 
Ah, Lucia, give him up! 


Ah! Quando, rapito in estasi 
Del più cocente ardore, 

Col favellar del core 

Mi giura eterna fè, 

Gli affanni miei dimentico 
Gioia diviene il pianto . . . 
Parmi che a lui d’accanto 

Si schiuda il ciel per me! 

Ah, when he speaks of love 
He speaks from his heart. 
His vow of eternal love 
Makes me forget my sorrows. 
When I am with him 

I am in heaven. 


Egli savanza ... La vicina soglia 
Io cauta veglierò. 

He's coming. I'll stand 
on guard, 

(Exit ALisA—enter EDGARDO) 


Lucia, perdona se ad ora inusitata 

Io vederti chiedea; ragion possente 

A ciò mi trasse. Pria che in ciel biancheggi 
L’alba novella, dalle patrie sponde 
Lungi sarò. 

Lucia, forgive me for asking you 
To meet me at this hour. 

But I had to see you. 

By morning 

I must be far away. 


Che dici? 

But why? 


Pe’ Franchi lidi amici 
Sciolgo le vele; ivi trattar m’é dato 
Le sorti della Scozia. 

I’m leaving for France 
To join in the fight 
For the future of Scotland. 


E me nel pianto 
Abbandoni così! 

And I must remain here 
Alone with my sorrow! 


Pria di lasciarti 

Ashton mi vegga . . . io stenderò placato 
A lui la destra e la tua destra, pegno 
Fra noi di pace, chiederò. 

Before I leave 

I will see Ashton. I’ll make peace with him. 

And ask for your hand 
To seal our friendship. 

Che ascolto! 

Ah! No... rimanga nel silenzio sepolto 

Per or l’arcano affetto . . . 

Ah, no, impossible! 
At least for now our love 
Must remain secret. 



I understand. He would refuse me. 

He’s not content with my misfortunes. 
Isn’t it enough that he destroyed my 
father, and dispossessed me? What 
more can he want? My blood? 

To ruin me completely? 

Intendo! Di mia stirpe 

Il reo persecutor, de’ mali miei 

Ancor pago non é! Mi tolse il padre 

Il mio retaggio avito . . . Nè basta? 
Che brama ancor quel cor feroce e rio? 
La mia perdita intera? Il sangue mio? 

Egli m’odia.. . He must really hate me! 
EXTEN Olena AO. 
M’abborre. He must loathe me! 

Calma, oh Ciel, quell’ira estrema! In God’s name, calm yourself! 

Fiamma ardente in sen mi scorre! How can I calm myself? 
M’odi. Listen to me... 
Edgardo. Edgardo! 

You must listen to me! 

In the blindness of my despair 
I swore eternal vengeance 
Against your family 

Over my father’s grave. 

M’odi e trema. 

Sulla tomba che rinserra 

Il tradito genitore 

Al tuo sangue eterna guerra 
Io giurai nel mio furore: 

Ah! Ah! 


But then I saw you— 
Love overcame my hatred. 
Yet I have not forgotten 
My oath of vengeance! 

Ma ti vidi, e in cor mi nacque 

Altro affetto, e l’ira tacque; 

Pur quel voto non è infranto 

Io potrei, sì, sì, potrei compirlo ancor! 

Deh! Ti placa... Deh! ti frena... I beg you, calm yourself! 

Ah! Lucia! Ah, Lucia! 


Può tradirne un solo accento! 
Non ti basta la mia pena? 
Vuoi ch’io mora di spavento? 

Am I not suffering enough as it is? 
I live in constant fear of betrayal! 

Ah, no! Ah, no! 

Forget your vow of vengeance. 
Remember only our love, 
Our love that is stronger 
Than any vow. 

Ceda, ceda ogn’altro affetto, 
Solo amor t’infiammi il petto... 
Un pit nobile, pit santo, 

D’ogni voto è un puro amor! 

One thoughtless word will give us aw:ay. 


Pur quel voto non è infranto . . . 
Io potrei compirlo ancor . . . 

Ah solo amor t’infiammi il petto, 
Cedi, cedi a me, cedi, cedi all’amor. 

Qui di sposa eterna fede, 

Qui mi giura al Cielo innatne. 
Dio ci ascolta, Dio ci vede . . . 
Tempio ed ara è un core amante: 


I have not forgotten 
My oath of vengeance! 


Remember only our love, 
Forget your vow of vengeance! 

Then swear before God 
You’ll be faithful to me. 
In the eyes of God 
Now you are my wife 

(putting a ring on her finger) 

Al tuo fato unisco il mio, 
Son tuo sposo. 

As in God’s eyes 
I am your husband. 


(giving her ring to EDGARDO) 

E tua son io. 

I swear it. 

EpcaRrDO AND Lucia 

Ah! Soltanto il nostro foco 
Spegnerà di morte il gel! 

Ai miei voti amore invoco 
Ai miei voti invoco il Ciel. 

Ai miei voti invoco il Ciel. 

Separarci omai conviene. 

Oh, parola a me funesta! 
Il mio cor con te ne viene. 

Il mio cor con te qui resta. 

Ah! Edgardo! Ah! Edgardo! 

Separarci omai conviene. 

Ah! Talor del tuo pensiero 
Venga un foglio messaggero 
E la vita fuggitiva 

Di speranze nutrirò. 

Io di te memoria viva 
Sempre, oh cara, serberò. 

Ah! Verranno a te sull’aure 
I miei sospiri ardenti, 

Udrai nel mar che mormora 
L’eco dei miei lamenti . .. 
Pensando ch’io di gemiti 

Mi pasco e di dolor, 

Spargi un’amara lagrima 

Su questo pegno allor! 

Ah, our love will set us free, 
For love is stronger than death. 


I swear to love you forever, 
I swear before heaven. 

| I swear before heaven. 

Now we must part. 


We part, but 
My heart goes with you. 

My heart remains with you. 

Oh, Edgardo! Oh, Edgardo! 

Now we must part. 


I entreat you, 
Write to me. 

It will sustain me 
While we are apart. 


You will always be 
In my thoughts. 


Ah, the winds will 

Bring you my sighs, 

In the voice of the sea 

You will hear my weeping. 
You will know by my tears 
How bitter was this parting. 
I live only 

Till we meet again. 


Verranno a te sull’aure 

I miei sospiri ardenti, 

Udrai nel mar che mormora 
L’eco dei miei lamenti... 
Pensando ch’io di gemiti 

Mi pasco e di dolor. 

Ah, the winds will 

Bring you my sighs, 

In the voice of the sea 

You will hear my weeping. 
You will know by my, tears 
How bitter was this parting. 

Spargi un’amara lagrima I live only 
Su questo pegno allor! Till we meet again. 

Ah, the winds will 
Bring you my sighs, 
In the voice of the sea 
You will hear my weeping. 

Ah! Verranno a te sull’aure 
I miei sospiri ardenti, 

Udrai nel mar che mormora 
L’eco de’ miei lamenti.. . 

You will know by my tears 
How bitter was this parting. 

Pensando ch’io di gemiti 
Mi pasco e di dolor... 


Spargi un’amara lagrima I live only 
Su questo pegno allor! Till we meet again. 


Rammentati! Ne stringe il Ciel! Remember! God has joined us! 


Addio amor! Farewell, beloved! 


Scene 1: An Anteroom in Lammermoor Castle 

Enrico and NORMANNO are seated at a 


Lucia fra poco a te verrà. Lucia will soon be here. 

Tremante I await her anxiously. 
L’aspetto. A festeggiar le nozze illustri, All our noble relations have come 
Già nel Castello i nobili parenti To celebrate this illustrious marriage. 
Giunser di mia famiglia; in breve Arturo Arturo will soon arrive. 
Qui volge . .. Will she dare continue 
E s’ella pertinace osasse d’opporsi? To oppose me? 


Don’t worry. This long absence, 

The letters we intercepted, the forged 
Note, the rumors we spread of 

His love for another—all this 

Will cure Lucia of her love. 

Non temer: la lunga assenza 

Del tuo nemico, i fogli 

Da noi rapiti, e la bugiarda nuova 
Ch’egli s’accese d’altra fiamma, in core 
Di Lucia spegneranno il cieco amore. 

Ella s’avanza! .. . Il simulato foglio She’s coming. Give me the forged letter. 
(Normanno gives him a paper.) 
Now hurry to the highroad 
To meet Arturo 
And escort him here 

With pomp befitting the occasion. 

Ed esci sulla via che tragge 
Alla città regina di Scozia, 

E qui fra applausi e liete grida 
Conduci Arturo. 

(Lucia enters, pauses at the threshold. Her 
paleness and bewildered look show her suffer- 
ings, also the first symptoms of insanity.) 

Appressati, Lucia. 

Sperai più lieta in questo dì vederti, 
In questo dì che d’Imeneo le faci 
S’accendono per te. Mi guardi e taci? 

Il pallor funesto, orrendo, 

Che ricopre il volto mio, 

Ti rimprovera tacendo 

Il mio strazio . . . il mio dolore. 
Perdonare ti possa Iddio 
L’inumano tuo rigor 

E il mio dolor. 

A ragion mi fè spietato 

Quel che t’arse indegno affetto; 
Ma si taccia del passato, 

Tuo fratello sono ancor. 

Spenta è l’ira nel mio petto, 
Spegni tu l’insano amor. 

Nobil sposo . . . 

Cessa . . . cessa. 


Ad altr’uom giurai mia fe: 
Nol potevi... 


Nol potevi! 

Ad altro giurai mia fé. 


Questo foglio appien ti dice 
Qual crudel, qual empio amasti! 


Come here, Lucia. 

I had hoped to find you happier on 
this day 

When the castle is aglow in honor of your 

Marriage. Why do you stare at me in 


If I am pale and wan 

It is from the 

Sorrow and pain 

You have caused me. 
Perhaps God will be 
Able to forgive your 
Cruel, inhuman behavior. 


I cannot sympathize with 

The love that degraded you. 

But that is all ended; 

I am still your brother 

And can be angry with you no longer. 
Forget your insane infatuation. 

A noble husband . . . 


Stop it, stop it! 


How’s that? 


I am sworn to another. 


That can’t be! 






I swore before God! 


That's enough. 

This letter will show you 
What a traitor you love. 
Read it. 

(Gives her the forged letter.) 


(Reads the letter. Her face shows first surprise 
then great suffering, and she trembles violently.) 

Ah! Il core mi balzò! 

Am-vacilli .... 

Me infelice! 
Ahi! ... La folgore piombò! 

Ah! How could he? 


You’re trembling... 


God help me! 
Ah, how could he do this? 

Un folle taccese, un perfido amore; 
Tradisti il tuo sangue per vil seduttore. 

Oh! Dio! 

Ma degna del Cielo ne avesti mercè: 
Quel core infedele ad altra si diè. 
Un folle t’accese, un perfido amore; 

You let yourself be deceived by this 


You betrayed your family for him. 

Oh God! 

But God in his mercy will forgive you. 

The traitor is faithful no longer. 

You let yourself be deceived by this 

Tradisti il tuo sangue per il vil seduttore, traitor, 

Ma degna del Cielo ne avesti mercé: 
Quel core infedele ad altra si diè. 

L’istante tremendo è giunto per me. 
Quel core infedele ad altra si diè. 

You betrayed your family for him. 


Oh God! 
Ah, now let me die, 
He is faithful no longer. 

(Noises are heard in the distance.) 

Che fia? 

Suonar di giubilo 
Senti la riva? 


Giunge il tuo sposo. 

Un brivido 
Mi corse per le vene! 

A te s'appresta il talamo! . .. 

La tomba a me s’appresta! 

Ora fatale è questa! 

Ho sugli occhi un vel! 


Spento é Guglielmo . . . ascendere 
Vedremo in trono Maria... 
Prostrata é nella polvere 

La parte ch’io seguia . . . 

Ah! Io tremo! 

Dal precipizio 
Arturo può sottrarmi, 

What's that? 


The crowds are 
Cheering. Don’t you hear them? 

What for? 
Your bridegroom’s arriving. 

I feel the chill of death! 

Prepare for your marriage! 

I prepare for my grave! 

This is the awaited moment! 

I feel a mist before my eyes! 


Listen to me: 
William is dead— 
Mary will reign. 
Our party has fallen 
Out of favor... 

Ah, I am frightened! 


Only Arturo 
Can save me from utter 

Salvarmi devi! You must save me! 
Enrico! Enrico! 

Vieni allo sposo! Let us greet your bridegroom! 


Ad altro giurai! I am sworn to another! 

Devi salvarmi. You must save me! 
Ma... 4 TRIO 
Il devi! You must! 

Oh Ciel! Oh Ciel! Oh Heaven help me! 


If you betray me 

My life is worthless. 

I°1l be stripped of all honor, 
I must die in disgrace. 

But I will return to haunt 
Ombra irata e minacciosa; You forever. You will never 
Quella scure sanguinosa Be free of my menacing spirit 
Starà sempre innanzi a te. Till you die! 

Se tradirmi tu potrai, 

La mia sorte è già compita... 
Tu m’involi onore e vita; 

Tu la scure appresti a me... 
Nei tuoi sogni mi vedrai 


Oh Father in Heaven, 
See my tears, my despair. 

Tu che vedi il pianto mio, 
Tu che leggi in questo core, 
Se respinto é il mio dolore 
Come in terra, in Ciel non é, The world has no compassion. 
Tu mi togli, eterno Iddio, Have pity on me, 

Questa vita disperata... Ah let me die! 


You will never be free 
Of my menacing spirit. 

Ah! Quella scure sanguinosa 
Stara sempre innanzi a te. 


Ah, in my misfortune 
Death would be welcome! 

Ah! Io son tanto sventurata 
Che la morte è un ben per me. 

Scene 2: The Great Hall of the Castle 

The reception for Arturo is beginning. 


For you this jubilee, 
All this rejoicing. 
Through you all 

Our hopes are reborn. 

Per te d’immenso giubilo 
Tutto s’avviva intorno, 

Per te veggiam rinascere 
Della speranza il giorno. 

Grant me your heavenly mercy. 

Per poco fra la tenebre 
Sparì la vostra stella; 

Io la farò risorgere, 

Più fulgida, più bella. 

La man mi porgi, Enrico, 
Ti stringi a questo cor. 

A te ne vengo amico, 
Fratello e difensor! 

Ah! Per te d’immenso giubilo 
Tutto s’avviva intorno, 

Per te veggiam rinascere 
Della speranza il giorno. 

Qui l’amistà ti guida, 

Qui ti conduce amore; 

A te ne vengo amico, 
Fratello e difensor! 

Qual astro in notte infida, 
Qual riso nel dolor... 
Fratello e difensor! 

Dov'è Lucia? 

Qui giungere 
Or la vedrem . . . Se in lei 
Soverchia è la mestizia 

Maravigliarti, no, no, non dei. 

Dal duolo oppressa e vinta 
Piange la madre estinta. 

M’é noto, si, si, m’è noto. 

Soverchia è la mestizia 
Ma piange la madre. 

Or solvi un dubbio; 
Fama suonò che Edgardo 
Sovr’essa temerario. 
Alzare osò lo sguardo . . . 
Pemerario. 7. 

E vero quel folle ardìa, ma... 


S’avanza qui Lucia; s’avanza. 

For a brief moment 
Your fortunes have fallen. 
I will restore them 
To greater heights. 
Give me your hand, Enrico, 
Let me embrace you i 
As your friend, 
Your brother and defender. 


For you this jubilee, 

All this rejoicing. 

Through you all 

Our hopes are reborn. 

This great alliance 

Is made stronger through love. 


I am your friend, 
Your brother and defender. 

For us who have suffered so, 
You are the only ray of hope! 
Our brother and defender! 
Where is Lucia? 


She will soon be here. 
Do not be surprised 

If she seems sad; 
Remember that she is 
Still overcome with grief 
At losing her mother. 

Yes, I know, I know. 


Overcome with grief, 
She weeps for her mother. 


There is one thing 

You must explain: 

I have heard that Edgardo 
Has had the gall, the temerity, 
To look at her... 

It’s true that he tried, but... 



Lucia is coming. 

(to ARTURO) 

: , 3 He Fica x Sol egli! Destruction! dr SRI RE È 2 
Soffriva nel pianto... languia nel dolore How I have suffered suffered in silence ol egli Qui Pamista ti guida, This great alliance Piange la madre estinta . . . You see how she weeps for her mother... 
La speme . . . la vita riposi in un core... I believed him, I trusted him. vera Qui ti conduce amore; Is made stronger through love. 
L’istante di morte è giunto per me. Ah! Ah, now let me die— | fava And I? And I? Qual astro in notte infida, For us who have suffered so, (Lucia enters, supported by Aisa and 
Quel core infedele ad altra si diè! He is faithful no longer! 19; 10: Qual riso nel dolor! You are the only ray of hope! Rarmonpo—she seems greatly dejected.) 


(Presents ARTURO to Lucia.) 

Ecco il tuo sposo . . . 

Here is your bridegroom. 

(Lucia makes a motion as if to draw back. 

Perder mi vuoi?) 

(Gran Dio!) 

Ti piaccia i voti accogliere 
Del tenero amor mio. 

Enrico whispers:) 

(Be careful! 
Do you want to ruin me?) 

(Dear God!) 


May it please you to accept 
The love I offer. 


(going to the table for the marriage contract, 
interrupting ARTURO) 

Omai si compia il rito. 

(Gran Dio!) 


Oh dolce invito! 


(Be careful!) 
Let the ceremony begin. 

(Dear Heaven!) 


(to ARTURO) 
Come closer. 

With pleasure. 

and Enrico sign the contract. 

Lucta is led to the table by Ratmonvo and 

(Io vado al sacrifizio! Me misera!) 

Non esitare . . . scrivi! 
(Reggi buon Dio l’afflitta!) 



(La mia condanna ho scritta!) 

(Io gelo ed ardo . . . 
Io manco . . .) 

(A terrific 


| (I must sacrifice myself—God help me!) 

| No hesitation! Sign! 

| (Oh God, have pity on her!) 



(I have signed my death warrant!) 

(Thank God!) 


(This chill, this fever, 
This faintness . . .) 

commotion is heard at the door.) 

Qual fragor! 
Chi giunge? 

Edgardo! Oh terror! 
Edgardo! Oh fulmine! 

(Chi mi frena in tal momento? 
Chi troncò dell’ira il corso? 

Il suo duolo, il suo spavento 
Son la prova di un rimorso! 
Ma, qual rosa inaridita, 

Ella sta tra morte e vita! ... 
Io son vinto . . . son commosso! 
T’amo ingrata, t'amo ancor!) 

(Chi raffrena il mio furore, 

E la man che al brando corse? 
Della misera in favore 

Nel mio petto un grido sorse! 
È mio sangue! io l’ho tradita! 
Ella sta fra morte e vita... 
Ah! Che spegnere non posso, 
I rimorsi del mio cor!) 

(Io sperai che a me la vita 
Tronca avesse il mio spavento, 
Ma la morte non maita . . . 
Vivo ancor per mio tormento! 
Da’ miei lumi cadde il velo... 
Mi tradì la terra e il Cielo! 

Vorrei piangere e non posso . . . 

M’abbandona il pianto ancor!) 

(Qual terrible momento! 
Più formar non so parole; 
Densa nube di spavento 
Par che copra i rai del sole! 
Come rosa inaridita 

Ella sta tra morte e vita; 
Chi per lei non è commosso 
Ha di tigre in petto il cor!) 

(Chi mi frena in tal momento? 
Ma chi? Chi? 

Come rosa inaridita 

Ella sta fra morte e vita! ... 
Ingrata! T’amo ancor, 

Sì, t'amo ancor!) 

a . 
(E mio sangue! L’ho tradita! 
Ella sta fra morte e vita... 
Spegnere non posso i rimorsi . . 


What's happening? 
Who's there? 



Edgardo! Good God! 

Edgardo! God help me! 


(What holds me back now? 

Why can’t I give vent to my anger 
When her pain and fear 

Prove her guilty remorse? 

Yet when she stands there 

Like a faded rose, more dead than alive, 
I’m defeated, moved by compassion. 
Unfaithful or not, I love you still!) 

(What restrains my anger 
And prevents me from killing him? 
In spite of myself 
I cannot help but pity her. 
I’ve betrayed my own sister; 
She stands there, more dead than alive. 
I’ll blame myself for this tragedy 
For as long as I live!) 

(I prayed that this anguish 
Would end my life, 
But death would not come 
And I must live and suffer. 
Now I am certain 
That heaven and earth have betrayed me. 
I want to weep, but cannot— 
Even my tears have abandoned me!) 

(No words can describe 
This dreadful moment, 
A thick cloud of fear 
Has blotted out the sun’s rays. 
She stands there like a faded rose, 
More dead than alive. 
One must have a heart of stone 
Not to pity her!) 

(What holds me back now? 
Tell me, what? She stands there 
Like a faded rose, more dead than alive. 
Unfaithful or not, I love you, 
I love you still!) 

(I’ve betrayed my own sister! 
She stands there more dead than alive. 
I’ll blame myself forever!) 


(No words can describe 

This dreadful moment! 

A thick veil of fear 

Has blotted out the sun’s-rays. 
She stand there like a faded rose, 
More dead than alive. 

One must have a heart of stone 
Not to pity her!) 

(Qual terribile momento! 
Più formar non so parole; 
Denso velo di spavento 

Par che copra i rai del sole! 
Come rosa inaridita 

Ella sta fra morte e vita; 
Chi per lei non è commosso 
Ha di tigre in petto il cor!) 

(She stands there like a faded rose, 
More dead than alive. 
One must have a heart of stone 
Not to pity her!) 

(Come rosa inaridita 

Ella sta fra morte e vita; 
Chi per lei non è commosso 
Ha di tigre in petto il cor!) 


(I want to weep, but cannot— 
Even my tears have abandoned me!) 

(Vorrei piangere e non posso . . . 
M’abbandona il pianto ancor!) 


(I’m defeated, moved by compassion. 
Unfaithful or not, I love you still!) 

(Ah, son vinto, son commosso! 
T’amo ingrata, t'amo ancor!) 


(I’ve betrayed my own sister! 

She stands there, more dead than alive. 
I’ll blame myself for this tragedy 

For as long as I live!) 

(Ah! E mio sangue, l’ho tradita! 
Ella sta fra morte e vita! 

Ah! Che spegnere non posso, 

I rimorsi del mio cor!) 


(One must have a heart of stone 
Not to pity her!) 

(Chi per lei non è commosso 
Ha di tigre in petto il cor!) 

Leave, traitor! 

(They draw their swords.) 
Leave or die! 

T’allontana, sciagurato, 

O il tuo sangue fia versato. 


T’allontana, sciagurato. Leave, traitor! 

(Draws his sword.) 

Morirò, ma insiem col mio If I die, Pll not 
Altro sangue scorrera. die alone! 

(With authority.) 

Iama minister, 
A man of God! 
In His name I command you! 
Forget your anger—put up your swords. 
Peace, Peace! God will not 
Tolerate murder! It is written: 
“Who lives by the sword 
Shall die by the sword!” 
(All swords are sheathed.) 

Peace! Peace! 

Rispettate in me di Dio 

La tremenda maesta. 

In suo nome io vel comando. 
Deponete Vira e il brando; 
Pace, pace . . . Egli abborisce 
L’omicida, e scritto sta: 

“Chi di ferro altrui ferisce, 
Pur di ferro perirà.” 

Pace, pace! 


Fool! Why have 
You come here? 

Sconsigliato! In queste porte 
Chi ti guida? 

La mio sorte, To claim 
Il mio dritto! What is rightfully mine! 

Sciagurato! Insolent dog! $ 
St! Lucia Yes! Lucia 

La sua fede a me giurò. swore to be mine! 


Ah, forget this love. 
She has married another. 

Ah, questo amor funesto oblia; 
Ella è d’altri... 

D’altri? No! Another? Impossible! 

(Shows EDGARDO the marriage contract.) 
Mira. Look at this. 
(Reads, then turns to Lucia.) 

Tremi...ti confondi! 
Son tue cifre? A me rispondi! 

You are confused . . . trembling! 
Did you sign this? Answer me! 

(Points to the signature.) 

Son tue cifre? Rispondi. Is this your signature? Answer me. 

STARE Mesha 
(Controlling his anger, gives her the ring.) 
Riprendi Faithless creature, 
Il tuo pegno, infido cor! Take back your ring! 
Ah! Ah! 

Il mio dammi! And return mine to me. 

Almen... At least... 
Lo rendi. Give it to me! 

Edgardo! Edgardo! Edgardo, Edgardo! 

(She returns his ring.) 


Hai tradito il Cielo e amor. 
Maledetto sia l’istante 

Che di te mi rese amante... 
Stirpe iniqua . . . abbominata . . 
Io dovea da te fuggir! 
Abbominata, maledetta, 

Io dovea da te fuggir! 

You have betrayed everything I lived for! 
I curse the moment 

I fell in love with you! 

I curse your treacherous family. 

I should have fled from your 

Loathed, accursed presence! 

I should have fled! 

Ah! Ah! 


Ah! Vi disperda! May you be damned forever! 


Insano ardir! Esci! | You’re insane! Get out! 


Insano ardir! Pace! | You’re insane! Stop! 


Insano ardir! | You’re insane! 


Get out, get out of here 

Before I kill you! 

I may not be able 

To control my fury much longer! 

Esci, fuggi, il furor che mi accende 
Solo un punto i suoi colpi sospende . . . 
Ma fra poco più atroce, più fiero... 
Sul tuo capo abborrito cadrà. 


Infelice tinvola, taffretta... 

I tuoi giorni, il suo stato rispetta... 
Vivi, e forse il tuo duolo fia spento, 
Tutto é lieve all’eterna pieta. 

I beg you, leave quickly! 
Leave her to her destiny. 
Live—your sufferings will abate, 
For time heals all sorrow. 


(Falls on her knees.) 

Please, God, protect him now! 
Hear the prayers of one 

Dio lo salva, in si fiero momento 
D’una misera ascolta il lamento. 
E la prece d’immenso dolore Who suffers unbearable grief, 
Che più in terra speranza non ha... Who knows that the world has forsaken 
E l’estreme domanda del core, her, 
Che sul labbro spirando mi sta! And who asks this 

As her dying wish! 

(Flings away his sword.) 
Kill me then, and let my corpse be 
Witness to this marriage! 
Perhaps the bride will 
Enjoy the sight of my blood, 
And go happier to the altar . 
Trampling on my lifeless body! 

Trucidatemi, e pronubo al rito 

Sia lo scempio di un core tradito... 
Del mio sangue coperta la soglia 
Dolce vista per l’empia sarà. 
Calpestando l’esangue mia spoglia 
All’altare più lieta ne andrà. 


Va! Tinvola Leave this instant 

La macchia d’oltraggio sì nero Before this scene 

Lavata col sangue sarà! Ends in bloodshed! 

Esci, fuggi, il furor che mi accende Get out, get out of here 

Solo un punto i suoi colpi sospende . . . Before I kill you! 

Ma fra poco più atroce, più fiero... I may not be able 

Sul tuo capo abborrito cadrà. To control my fury much longer! 


Deh! Ti salva! Infelice! Go! Save yourself! 

T’invola ... t'affretta I beg you, leave quickly! 

I tuoi giorni . . . il suo stato rispetta... Leave her to her destiny. 

Vivi, e forse il tuo duolo fia spento, Live—your sufferings will abate, 
Tutto è lieve all’eterna pietà. For time heals all sorrow. 
Quante volte ad un solo tormento Heed this advice; 

Mille gioie apprestate non ha. You will live to be thankful! 

(RAIMONDO supports LUCIA, who is now at 

the breaking point. Aisa and ladies surround 

them. The others run after EDGARDO to the 
door as the curtain falls.) 

Scene 1: The Hall at Lammermoor Castle 

Music and dancing are heard from adjoining 

rooms—the celebration is at its height. Guests 

and relations fill the room, while the people of 
Lammermoor crowd into the background. 

D’immenso giubilo Let cheers 
S’innalzi un grido. Of jubilation 
Corra la Scozia Ring across Scotland, 
Di lido in lido; From shore to shore! 
E avverta i perfidi Let our enemies 
Nostri nemici Beware of the 
Che a noi sorridono Power that has been 
Le stelle ancor. Restored to us! 

(Enters with faltering step, gasping, half 

Deh! Cessate quel contento . . . Stop the celebration! 


Sei cosparso di pallor. You?re as pale as a ghost! 

Deh! Cessate! Stop, I tell you! 


Ciel! Che rechi? What has happened? 


Un fiero evento! The most terrible thing! 


Tu ne agghiacci di terror! You seem frightened to death! 


(Motions them with his hand to draw near.) 

From the room where Lucia 
And her husband had retired, 
Suddenly there came a cry, 

Dalle stanze ove Lucia 
Tratta avea col suo consorte, 
Un lamento . . . un grido uscìa, 
Come d’uom vicino a morte! A scream as of one in the 
Corsi ratto in quelle mura; Throes of death! 

AR terribile sciagura! I burst in, and 

Steso Arturo al suol giaceva A horrible sight met my eyes! 
Muto, freddo, insanguinato! On the floor lay Arturo, 

E Lucia l’acciar stringeva Stabbed to death! 

Che fu già del trucidato. Lucia stood over him, 

Ella in me le luci affisse Still clasping the knife! 

“Il mio sposo ov’é” mi disse. She looked at me. 

“Where is my husband?” 

E nel volto suo pallente 
Un sorriso balenò! She asked, and smiled gently. 

Infelice! Della mente The poor child 
La virtude a lei mancò. Has gone mad! 

Oh! This terrible thing 

Fills us with horror! 

If only the blackness of night 

Could erase all this from our minds! 

Oh! Qual funesto avvenimento! . . . 
Tutti ne ingombra cupo spavento. 
Notte, ricopri la ria sventura 

Col tenebroso tuo denso vel. 


May God forgive her and us all 
For this dreadful murder! 

Ah! Quella destra di sangue impura 
L’ira non chiami su noi del Ciel. 

(Luota enters, dressed in white; her hair di- 
sheveled; her face deathly pale, giving her a 
ghostly appearance. Her staring eyes, con- 
vulsive movements and bitter smile show not 
only insanity, but approaching death.) 


Ah! Spargi d’amaro pianto Ah! Weep bitter tears 

Il mio terrestre velo, Over my body. 

Mentre lassù nel Cielo I will pray for you 

Io pregherò per te. When I am in heaven. 

AI giunger tuo soltanto But not till we meet there 
Will it be Heaven for me. 

Eccola! She is here! 
(Oh giusto Ciel! (My God! 

Par dalla tomba uscita !) 

She looks like a ghost!) 


Il dolce suono 

Mi colpì di sua voce! . . . Ah, quella voce 
M’é qui nel cor discesa! . . . 

Edgardo! Io ti son resa; 

Edgardo! Ah! Edgardo mio! 

Sì, ti son resa! 

Fuggita io son da’ tuoi nemici . . . 

Un gelo mi serpeggia nel sen! . . . 

Trema ogni fibra! . . . Vacilla il pié!... 

Presso la fonte meco t’assidi alquanto . . . 
Ohimè! Sorge il tremendo - 
Fantasma, e ne separa! Ohimè! 

Ohimé! Edgardo! . . . Edgardo! Ah! 

Il fantasma, il fantasma ne separa! .. . 
Qui ricovriamo, Edgardo, a piè dell’ara. 
Sparsa è di rose! ... Un’armonia celeste, 
Di’, non ascolti? Ah! L’inno 

Suona di nozze! Il rito 

Per noi s’appresta! . . . Oh me felice! 
Edgardo! Edgardo! Oh me felice! 

Oh gioia che si sente e non si dice! 
Ardon gli incensi . . . splendon 

Le sacre faci, splendon intorno! 

Ecco il Ministro! Porgimi 

La destra... Oh lieto giorno! 

Alfin son tua, alfin sei mio, 

A me ti dona un Dio... 

I hear the 

Gentle sound of his voice! That voice 

That thrills my heart! 

Edgardo! I am yours; 

Edgardo! Oh, my Edgardo! 

Yes, I am yours! 

I have escaped from your enemies . . . 

An icy chill runs through me! 

I tremble all over! . . . my feet falter!... 

Let us sit here by the fountain... 

Oh God! The ghost is coming and 

Will part us! Oh God! 

Oh God! Edgardo! . . . Edgardo! Ah! 

The ghost, the ghost will part us! . . . 

Let us hide at the foot of the altar. 

Scattered are the roses! . . . A celestial 

Can’t you hear it? It's a hymn in 

Honor of our marriage! It is time 

For our wedding! How happy I am! 

Edgardo! Edgardo! How happy I am! 

Oh happiness too deep for words! 

The incense burns . . . the sacred 

Torches are shining, shining around us! 

Here is the minister. Give me 

Your hand . . . Oh day of happiness! 

At last, I’m yours, at last you’re mine, 

God has brought us together... 


Ambi in si crudo stato! 
Di lei, Signore, di lei pieta. 

How dreadful to see this! 
God, have mercy on her! 


Ogni piacer più grato, 
Mi fia con te diviso, 

Del Ciel clemente un riso 
La vita a noi sarà! 

Together we will share 
The joys of love. 

The heavens will smile 
To see us so happy! 

(ENRICO enters.) 

Spargi d’amaro pianto 

Il mio terrestre velo, 

Mentre lassù nel Cielo 

Io pregherò per te. 

AI giunger tuo soltanto. 

Fia bello il Ciel per me! Ah sì! 

Weep bitter tears 

Over my body, 

I will pray for you 

When I am in heaven. 
But not till we meet there 
Will it be heaven for me! 


Più raffrenare il pianto 
Possibile non è. 

One can no longer 
See this without weeping. - 


Giorni d’amaro pianto 
Serba il rimorso a me. 

A life of bitter remorse 
Is all that remains for me. 

Fia bello il Ciel per me! Ah si! 


Scene 2: The Tombs of the Ravenswoods 


Tombe degli avi miei, l’ultimo avanzo 
D’una stirpe infelice 
Deh! Raccogliete voi. Cessò dell’ira 

Il breve foco . . . sul nemico acciaro 
Abbandonar mi vo’. Per me la vita 
È orrendo peso! . . . L'Universo intero 

È un deserto per me senza Lucia! . . . 

Di faci tuttavia 

Splende il Castello! Ah! Scarsa 

Fu la notte al tripudio! Ingrata donna! 

Mentr’io mi struggo in disperato 

Tu ridi, esulti accanto 

AI felice consorte! 

Tu delle gioie in seno, io della morte! 

Fra poco a me ricovero 

Darà negletto avello. 

Una pietosa lagrima 

Non scenderà su quello! . . . 

Ah! Fin degli estinti, ahi misero! 

Manca il conforto a me. 

Tu pur, tu pur dimentica 

Quel marmo dispregiato; 

Mai non passarvi, oh barbara, 

Del tuo consorte a lato, 

Ah! rispetta almen le ceneri 

Di chi morìa per te! 

Mai non passarvi, 

Tu lo dimentica, 

Rispetta almeno chi muore per te. 

Oh barbara! 

Tomb of my forefathers, the last 

Of your unhappy family is come. 

Receive him. My brief fire 

Is burned out. I will give 

My body to my enemy’s sword. 

Now life is only a heavy burden. 

Without Lucia the universe is a desert. 

Torches still shine in the castle. Ah, 

The night is short 

For those who are happy. Faithless 

While I weep despairingly 

You laugh in exultation 

At the side of your happy husband. 

You in the midst of joy, I in death! 

Soon some forgotten grave 

Will give me refuge. 

No tears of pity 

Will fall upon it. 

Ah—even in death 

T°1l find no comfort. 

You, you too, will forget 

Where I’m buried. 

Never visit my grave 

Together with your husband. 

At least respect the ashes 

Of one who died for you. 

Never visit my grave. 

Forget it completely. 

At least, cruel woman, respect one 

Who died for you. 

(A procession approaches from Lammermoor 



Oh meschina! Oh fato orrendo! 
Più sperar non giova omai! 
Questo dì che sta sorgendo, 

No tramontar più non vedrà. 

Poor thing! Oh dreadful fate! 
There is no more hope for her. 
She will not live 

Till sunset. 

Giusto Cielo! Rispondete, Good Heavens! What is it? 
Rispondete! Ah! What is it? 

Oh meschina! Poor girl! 


Di chi mai, di chi piangete? 
Rispondete, rispondete per pietà! 

For whom are you weeping? 
For God’s sake, tell me, tell me! 


Di Lucia. 


Lucia diceste! 
Lasmeschinal: .. 

Su parlate! 

Si; la misera sen muore. 

Fur le nozze a lei funeste, 

Di ragion la trasse amore . . . 
S’awvicina all’ore estreme, 

E te chiede, per te geme. 

Ah! Lucia! Muore! Lucia, ah! 

Questo dì che sta sorgendo 
Tramontar più non vedrà! 
Di ragion la trasse amore, 

E te chiede, per te geme... 

Questo dì che sta sorgendo 
Tramontar più non vedrà 
La mia Lucia? 

Di ragion la trasse amore per te! 


Did you say Lucia? 

Poor girl’. 

Tell me! 

She is dying. 


Her wedding was her funeral. 
Her love for you drove her mad 
And she is dying. 
She calls and moans for you. 

| Ah! Lucia dying! Lucia! 

She will not live 
To see the sunset. 

Her love for you drove her mad. 

She calls and moans for you. 

My Lucia 

Will not live 

To see the sunset! 


Her love for you drove her mad. 



Rimbomba già la squilla in suon di morte! The death-knell is tolling! 

Quel suono in cor mi piomba! 
E? decisa la mia sorte! 

Oh Dio! 

It strikes deep in my heart 
And decides my destiny! 

Oh God! 

Rivederla ancor vogl’io I must see her again! 


Qual trasporto sconsigliato! 
Ah! desisti, ah riedi in te! 

Rivederla e poscia . . . 

Dove corri, sventurato! 
Ella in terra più non è. 


In terra più non è? 
Ella dunque? 

He's out of his mind! 
Stop! Come to your senses! 

| I must see her, and then... 
Where are you going? 
She is no longer with us. 
How pitiful! 

No longer with us... 
Then she is? 

E? in Cielo! 
Lucia più non è... 
Sventurato! Sventurato! 

Tu che a Dio spiegasti l’ali, 
Oh bell’alma innamorata, 

Ti rivolgi a me placata, 

Teco ascenda il tuo fedel. 

Ah se l’ira dei mortali, 

Fece a noi sì cruda guerra, 
Se divisi fummo in terra, 

Ne congiunga il nume in Ciel! 
Oh bell’alma innamorata, 

Ne congiunga il nume in Ciel 
Io ti seguo! 

(He draws 


In Heaven! 

Lucia is. dead... 

How pitiful, pitiful! 

My beloved, you who 
Are in Heaven, 
Smile on me— 
I am coming to join you. 
Though on earth 
We were kept apart 
By the hand of man, 
God will unite us! 
Oh my beloved, my darling, 
In Heaven we’ll be together. 
I follow you! 

his dagger. The others try to 
disarm him.) 



Ah che fai? 

Morir voglio! 

What are you doing? 

I will die! 


Ritorna in te! 

No, no; no": a 

Come to your senses! 

No, no, no. 

(He stabs himself.) 



Che facesti! 

A te vengo . . . oh bell’alma... 
Ti rivolgi, ah! Al tuo fedel. 

Ah se Vira... dei mortali . . . 

Sì cruda guerra . . . oh bell’alma, 
Ne congiunga il nume in Ciel! 

O bell’alma innamorata, 

Ne congiunga il nume in Ciel, 

Se divisi fummo in terra 

Ne congiunga il nume in Ciel! 

Sciagurato! Pensa al Ciel. 

Oh Dio perdona . . . Pensa al Ciel! 

Dio perdona tanto orror. 

Quale orror! Quale orror! 
Oh tremendo, oh nero fato 
Dio perdona tanto orror. 


What have you done? 


I am coming to you, my beloved. 
Smile on me—I am coming to you. 
Though on earth we were kept apart 
By the hand of man... Oh my beloved... 

God will unite us... 

Oh my beloved, 

In Heaven we’ll be together. 
Though divided on earth, 

In Heaven we’ll be together! 


What horror! What horror! 

(They fall to their knees as EpcARDO dies.) 

Tue Enp 

Wretched man! Turn to Heaven 
For forgiveness . . . to Heaven! 
May God forgive all this horror! 

How dreadful—what disaster! 
May God forgive all this horror! 

Among the great full-length 
operas available on RCA 

Victor records are: 

This Is an RCA Victor “New Orthophonic”’ 

High Fidelity Recording. 
It is distinguished by these characteristics: 1. Com- 
plete frequency range. 2. Ideal dynamic range plus 
clarity and brilliance. 3. Constant fidelity from out- 
side to inside of record. 4. Improved quiet surfaces. 

Beware the Blunted Needle! 

A blunted or chipped needle can permanently dam- 
age your most valuable records. A worn needle will 
impair the quality of sound reproduction you hear. 
Make sure your needle is in good condition before 
you play these records. If in doubt, have it checked 
by your dealer—or buy a new needle. 


*A MASKED BALL (Verdi) LM-6112 
Arturo Toscanini and the NBC Symphony Orchestra with Jan Peerce as Richard, Robert 
Merrill as Renato, Herva Nelli as Amelia; The Robert Shaw Chorale 

*AÎDA (Verdi) LM-6122 
with Zinka Milanov as Aida, Jussi Bjoerling as Rhadames, Fedora Barbieri as Amneris, 
Leonard Warren as Amonasro, Boris Christoff as Ramfis; Rome Opera House Orchestra 
and Chorus conducted by Jonel Perlea 

CARMEN (Bizet) LM-6102 

with Risé Stevens as Carmen, Licia Albanese as Micaéla, Jan Peerce as Don José, Robert 
Merrill as Escamillo; The Robert Shaw Chorale; RCA Victor Orchestra conducted by 
Fritz Reiner 

with Zinka Milanov as Santuzza, Jussi Bjoerling as Turiddu, Robert Merrill as Alfio; 
The Robert Shaw Chorale; RCA Victor Orchestra conducted by Renato Cellini 

*IL TROVATORE (Verdi) LM-6008 
with Zinka Milanov as Leonora, Jussi Bjoerling as Manrico, Fedora Barbieri as Azucena, 
Leonard Warren as Count di Luna; The Robert Shaw Chorale; RCA Victor Orchestra 
conducted by Renato Cellini 

*LA BOHEME (Puccini) LM-6042 

with Victoria de los Angeles as Mimi, Lucine Amara as Musetta, Jussi Bjoerling as 
Rodolfo, Robert Merrill as Marcello, Giorgio Tozzi as Colline; RCA Victor Orchestra 
and Chorus conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham, Bart. 

*LA TRAVIATA (Verdi) LM-6040 
with Rosanna Carteri as Violetta, Cesare Valletti as Alfredo Germont, Leonard Warren 
as Giorgio Germont; Rome Opera House Orchestra and Chorus conducted by Pierre 


*MANON LESCAUT (Puccini) LM-6116 
with Licia Albanese as Manon Lescaut, Jussi Bjoerling as Des Grieux, Robert Merrill 
as Lescaut; Rome Opera House Orchestra and Chorus conducted by Jonel Perlea 

*PAGLIACCI (Leoncavallo) LM-6045 
with Victoria de los Angeles as Nedda, Jussi Bjoerling as Canio, Robert Merrill as 
Silvio, Leonard Warren as Tonio; The Robert Shaw Chorale; RCA Victor Orchestra 

conducted by Renato Cellini 

*RIGOLETTO (Verdi) LM-6051 
with Robert Merrill as Rigoletto, Roberta Peters as Gilda, Jussi Bjoerling as the Duke, 
Giorgio Tozzi as Sparafucile; Rome Opera House Orchestra and Chorus conducted by 

Jonel Perlea 

*TOSCA (Puccini) LM-6052 
with Zinka Milanov as Tosca, Jussi Bjoerling as Cavaradossi, Leonard Warren as Scarpia; 
Rome Opera House Orchestra and Chorus conducted by Erich Leinsdorf 

*A “New Orthophonic” High Fidelity Recording 

Printed in U. S. A. 




Il (Concluded 

ACT HI (Part 1 
21, B JAN PEERC n 

M Sop. 

e Orchestra and Chorus 
DORF, Conductor 
ss’t Conductor 

Rome Ope