Operas Every Child Should Know

Bertha, affianced to John of Leyden.

Faith, John's mother.

Choir: Peasants, soldiers, people, officers

Story laid in Holland, near Dordrecht, about the fifteenth century.

Composer: Meyerbeer.

Author: Scribe.

ACT I

One beautiful day about four hundred years ago the sun rose upon a castle on the Meuse, where lived the Count Oberthal, known in Holland as Lord of the Manor. It was a fine sight with its drawbridge and its towers, its mills and outbuildings, with antique tables outside the great entrance, sacks of grain piled high, telling of industry and plenty. In the early day peasants arrived with their grain sacks, called for entrance, and the doors were opened to them; other men with grain to be milled came and went, and the scene presented a lively appearance.

Sheep-bells were heard in the meadows, the breezes blew softly, and men and women went singing gaily about their work. Among them was a young girl, more beautiful than the others, and her heart was specially full of hope. She was beloved of an innkeeper, John, who lived in a neighbouring village. He was prosperous and good, and she thought of him while she worked. She longed to be his wife, but John had an old mother who was mistress of the inn – in fact, the inn was hers – and it had been a question how they should arrange their affairs. John was too poor to go away and make a separate home, and the old mother might not care to have a daughter-in-law take her place as mistress there, carrying on the business while the active old woman sat idly by.

Upon that beautiful day, Bertha was thinking of all of these things, and hoping something would happen to change the situation. Even while she was thinking thus fate had a pleasant surprise in store for her, because the old mother, Faith, was at that very moment approaching the manor where Bertha lived. Like others of her class she owed vassalage to some petty seigneur, and while that meant oppression to be endured, it included the advantage of safety and protection in time of war.

Bertha, looking off over the country road, saw Faith, John's mother, coming. Her step was firm for one so aged, and she was upheld on her long journey by the goodness of her mission. When Bertha saw her she ran to meet and welcome her.

"Sit down," she cried, guiding the old woman's steps to a seat, and hovering over her. "I have watched for your coming since the morning – even since sunrise," the young woman said, fluttering about happily. "I was certain thou wert coming."

"Yes, yes. John said: 'Go, go, mother, and bring Bertha home to me,' and I have come," she answered, caressing Bertha kindly. "I have decided to give over the work and the care to you young people; to sit by the chimneyside and see you happy; so bid farewell to this place, and prepare to return with me. John is expecting thee."

"At once, dear mother?" she asked with some anxiety. "You know, mother, I am a vassal of the Seigneur Oberthal, and may not marry outside of his domain, without his permission. I must first get that; but he cannot wish to keep me here, when there is so much happiness in store for me!" she cried, with all the assurance of her happiness newly upon her. But while she had been speaking, Faith had looked off toward the high-road:

"Look, Bertha! dost see three strange figures coming along there?" she asked in a low tone, pointing toward the road. Bertha looked. It was true: three men, in black, of sinister appearance, were coming toward them. The pair watched.

"Who are they?" she repeated, still in low and half-frightened tones.

"I have seen them before," Bertha answered. "It is said that they are saintly men, but they look sinister to me."

By this time the men had been joined by many of the peasants and were approaching the castle. They were Jonas, Mathison, and Zacharia, seditionists; but they were going through the country in the garb of holy men, stirring up the people under cover of saintliness.

They preached to the people the most absurd doctrines; that they would have all the lands and castles of the nobles if they should rise up and rebel against the system of vassalage that then prevailed. They lacked a leader, however, in order to make their work successful. Now they had come to Dordrecht and were approaching the castle of the Count of Oberthal. All the peasants got into a frightful tangle of trouble and riot, and they called and hammered at the Count's doors till he and his retainers came out.

"What is all this noise?" he demanded, and as he spoke, he recognized in Jonas, the leader of the Anabaptists, a servant whom he had discharged for thievery. He at once told the peasants of this, and it turned them against the three strangers and stopped the disturbance, but at the back of the crowd the Count Oberthal had seen the beautiful Bertha and Faith.

"What do ye do here?" he asked, curiously but kindly, noticing the beauty of Bertha. At that she went toward him.

"I wish to ask you, Seigneur, for leave to marry outside your domain. I love John of Leyden, the innkeeper – this is his mother – and she has come to take me home with her, if I may go." She spoke modestly, never thinking but she would be permitted to leave. But Oberthal looked at her admiringly and decided that he would have her for himself. Then thinking of her love, she began to sing of how John had once saved her life, and Faith joined her in pleading.

[Listen]

One day in the waves of the Meuse
I struggled I struggled
John, John saved me —

"No," Oberthal said at last, smiling; "I will not have so much loveliness leave my domain. No! I shall not give my consent." At that she began to weep, while Faith protested against his decision. This made him angry and he ordered the two woman taken into his castle and confined there till he should decide what he wished to do with them.

The peasants, who were still gathered about the Anabaptists, uncertain how to treat them after the Count's disclosures, now showed great anger against Oberthal for his action toward Bertha and Faith. As the two women were dragged within the castle, the peasants set up a howl of rage, while the Anabaptists extended their hands above them in a pious manner and began their Latin chant once more.

ACT II

At the little inn belonging to Faith, John had been waiting all day for her return with Bertha, and trying his best to look after those who came and went. Outside, people were waltzing and drinking and making merry, for the inn was a favourite place for the townsmen of Leyden to congregate.

"Sing and waltz; sing and waltz!" they cried, "all life is joy – and three cheers for thee, John!"

"Hey! John, bring beer," a soldier called merrily. "Let us eat, drink and – " At that moment Jonas, followed by the other Anabaptists, appeared at the inn.

"John! who is John?" they inquired of the soldier.

"John! John!" first one, then another called. "Here are some gentlemen who want beer – although they are very unlikely looking chaps," some one added, under his breath, looking the three fellows over. John came in to take orders, but his mind was elsewhere.

"It is near night – and they have not come," he kept thinking. "I wonder if anything can have happened to them! Surely not! My mother is old, but she is lively on her feet, and on her way home she would have the attention of Bertha. Only I should feel better to see them just now."

"Come, come, John! Beer!" the soldier interrupted, and John started from his reverie. As he went to fetch the beer, Jonas too started. Then he leaned toward Mathison.

"Do you notice anything extraordinary about that man – John of the inn?" he asked. The two other Anabaptists regarded the innkeeper closely.

"Yes! He is the image of David – the saint in Münster, whose image is so worshipped by the Westphalians. They believe that same saint has worked great miracles among them," Zacharia answered, all the while watching John as he moved about among the tables.

"Listen to this! Just such a man was needed to complete our success. This man's strong, handsome appearance and his strange likeness to that blessed image of those absurd Westphalians is enough to make him a successful leader. We'll get hold of him, call him a prophet, and the business is done. With him to lead and we to control him, we are likely to own all Holland presently. He is a wonder!" And they put their heads together and continued to talk among themselves. Then Jonas turned to one of the guests.

"Say, friend, who is this man?"

"He is the keeper of this inn," was the answer. "He has an excellent heart and a terrible arm."

"A fiery temper, I should say," the Anabaptist suggested.

"That he has, truly."

"He is brave?"

"Aye! and devoted. And he knows the whole Bible by heart," the peasant declared, proud of his friend. At that the three looked meaningly at one another. This certainly was the sort of man they needed.

"Come, friends, I want you to be going," John said at that moment, his anxiety for his mother and Bertha becoming so great that he could no longer bear the presence of the roistering crowd. "Besides it is going to storm. Come. I must close up." They all rose good-naturedly and one by one and in groups took themselves off – all but the three Anabaptists, who lingered behind.

"What troubles thee, friend?" Jonas said sympathetically to John, when all had gone, and he looked toward them inquiringly.

"The fact is, my mother was to have returned to Leyden with my fiancée before this hour, and I am a little troubled to know they are so late upon the road. I imagine I feel the more anxious because of some bad dreams I have had lately – two nights." He added, trying to smile.

"Pray tell us what your dreams were. We can some of us interpret dreams. Come! Perhaps they mean good rather than bad," Jonas urged.

"Why, I dreamed that I was standing in a beautiful temple, with everything very splendid about me, while everybody was bowing down to me – "

"Well, that is good!" Jonas interrupted.