Opera in three acts 

Libretto by Nahum Tate

Characters:
Dido, Queen of Carthage
Belinda, her confidante
Aeneas, a Trojan prince
Sorceress
Sailor
Second woman
First witch
Second witch
Spirit
Chorus

Instrumental ensemble: strings and continuo

Program Notes by Martin Pearlman

In the spring of 1689, the "young gentlewomen" of Josias Priest's School for Young Ladies in Chelsea gave the only performance of Dido and Aeneas known to have taken place during Purcell's lifetime.  This first major stage work by the 30-year-old composer is an intimate chamber opera that lasts less than an hour and calls for limited resources with relatively simple staging and an orchestra of only strings and continuo.  Nonetheless, it is justly celebrated for its fluid drama and emotional depth, qualities that culminate most famously in Dido's final lament, her poignant farewell to the world.  Throughout the work, Purcell's setting of the English language is unmatched in its simplicity and its rhythmic crispness, and his deceptively simple harmonic language and musical structures are always ingenious and detailed. 

True opera that is sung throughout was not popular in seventeenth-century England, and Dido and Aeneas was Purcell's only foray into the genre.  His subsequent stage works -- King Arthur, The Fairy Queen, and other "semi-operas" -- were essentially spoken plays that incorporated musical scenes and masques within them.  His premature death in 1695 at the age of 36 prevented his seeing Italian opera come into vogue in England within the next few decades.

At the time of the 1689 performance, the Glorious Revolution was coming to a peaceful end with the accession on April 11 of William of Orange and his English wife Mary to the British throne.  The connection between the opera and those events has given rise to much speculation about an underlying political meaning to the story.  For over five centuries, since the time of Geoffrey of Monmouth, the British monarchy had traced its ancestry back to Aeneas, the Trojan patriarch of Rome.  Through him, Britain could claim to be the inheritor of a revived Roman empire, a powerful fantasy shared by other monarchies of Europe, who likewise traced their origins back to Trojan ancestors.  More than a century before Purcell, scholars had shown Geoffrey's genealogy to be false, but the need for the myth was so strong that it was still alive and well by the time that William and Mary came to England.

Purcell's librettist, Nahum Tate, must certainly have been aware of the possible political undertones of such a myth, regardless of whether he chose it for that reason.  His story is adapted from his own play, Brutus of Alba, written some ten years earlier, but ultimately it derives from the fourth book of Virgil's Aeneid.  There the hero Aeneas, fleeing the destruction of Troy and driven to Carthage by storms at sea, has a tragic love affair with Dido, the widowed queen and founder of that city. 

There have been various attempts to interpret Tate's libretto as a political allegory, although not all of them are convincing.  That the future founder of Rome (and "ancestor" of the British monarchy) ultimately sets sail from Carthage to follow his destiny may serve as an allegory for William of Orange setting sail from Holland to found a new dynasty in Britain.  But the opera, is not principally about Aeneas but about Dido, and allegorical interpretations become a bit forced in dealing with her character.  If Aeneas is William, then Dido, the spurned queen who commits suicide, might naturally be associated with his consort Mary.  That is a dangerous association and an unlikely one for Tate and Purcell to have attempted.  Nonetheless, they may well have simply tried to be careful.  Perhaps that is why Tate has toned down the heroine of the Aeneid and of Brutus in Alba, eliminating all feelings of guilt and suggesting that she dies of a broken heart, rather than by suicide.

The witches bring a further dimension to the work, even though they too may not fit comfortably into an allegorical interpretation.  With them, the story is considerably altered from the original.  In Virgil, it is the gods who bring about Aeneas's departure and Dido's ruin; it is part of their grand design, tinged with rivalries left over from the Trojan War.  Tate's libretto, however, substitutes the sorceress and witches to bring about the calamity. They are cartoon figures motivated by nothing more than an unexplained hatred of Dido, but they have a sinister pedigree.  Their prototypes, Shakespeare's witches in Macbeth, were conceived at a time when James I--originally king of Scotland, like Macbeth--lived in great fear of witches and initiated witch hunts.  By the time of Purcell, the height of the great witch hysterias had passed, although a few, including that in colonial Salem, Massachusetts were yet to come.  In an atmosphere fueled by intense religious rivalries and fearful reactions against the new sciences, Tate's witches might well be seen as more than mere theatrical devices, even though they were not the frightening, lifelike figures that they might have been some decades earlier.

Whether or not we can ever know the original intent of the libretto -- a political allegory, a cautionary tale about love affairs for the girls' school where it was first performed, simply a good story, or a combination of all of these -- the power of Purcell's music makes it speak to us today.

Synopsis

Act I
The heroic prince, Aeneas, fleeing the destruction of Troy and driven by storms to the coast of Africa, has been received at the court of Dido, the queen of Carthage.  He is destined by Fate to end his wanderings in Italy, where he will found a new nation. 

Scene 1: The opera opens in the queen's palace, where Belinda, her handmaiden and confidante, is urging her mistress to put aside her sorrows and give in to her love for Aeneas.  The prince sues for Dido's love, and, as she appears to yield, the chorus rejoices.  The scene ends with a "Triumphing Dance."

Scene 2:  Thunder is heard, and the scene changes to the cave of the sorceress and her witches.  Playing upon their hatred for Dido and their love of mischief, the sorceress proposes bringing about Dido's ruin and that of all Carthage by driving her lover away.  She and her witches will first create a storm to break up the royal hunting party that is then in progress.  One of her elves, disguised as Mercury, will then command Aeneas to leave Carthage and continue on his journey.  The witches prepare the necessary charms in their deep, echoing cave.

Act II
In a pleasant grove, the lovers and their train are hunting.  As the skies suddenly cloud over and thunder is heard, the alarmed hunting party hastens back to town.  Aeneas, however, is detained by the sorceress' messenger.  It is a spirit, in the guise of Mercury, who announces that Jove himself commands Aeneas to leave Carthage and continue his journey that very night.  Aeneas is devastated; he will obey the gods but deplores his fate, wondering "what language can I try/ My injur'd Queen to pacify."

Act III
Scene 1:  At the ship, Aeneas's spirited crew prepares to depart.  The sorceress and her witches watch the preparations and plan their next move, to storm the ship on the ocean.  There follows a bizarre "Witches' Dance."

Scene 2:  At the palace, Aeneas reveals to Dido that he must leave, and she accuses him of being faithless.  Torn, he offers to defy the gods and remain with her, but she has been too deeply offended and sends him away, knowing full well that she will die once he departs.  Left alone with Belinda, the broken-hearted Dido sings her famous lament, "When I am laid in earth," as the chorus invites Cupids to watch over her tomb.   

Orchestration Chart

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