Parallel translation to be found here - it works well on its own, but in the context of the opera, where we, the audience, know full well Pinkerton ain’t comin’ back, it is heart wrenchingly beautiful.
That’s the Ring of the Nebalungs (spelling it wrong, I know), aka The Ring cycle by Wagner, which is actually 4 operas in 1: Das Reingold, Valkyrie (Bugs’ song is in this one), Seigfried and Gotterdamerung. Great stuff, but loooooong…
That’s The Barber of Seville, whose name is Figaro. In the sequel, he gets married to the lady’s maid of the wife of his lascivious boss, the count. Hijinks ensue, but all ends happily. (The above-referenced “Pace, pace mi dolce tesoro” translates to “Peace, peace, my sweet darling,” and it’s the section in which the count and countess resolve their differences. blissful sigh)
ETA: I am revelling in the moment in which Wile E. and twickster discuss opera, and yet remain true to their respective usernames.
The Marriage of Figaro was my entryway into the glorious world of opera. The arias and music were so ravishing that I fell in love straight away. Maybe there’s more beautiful music out there, I thought.
There was, and thirty-odd years later I still haven’t exhausted the supply. Welcome to the most entrancing, vibrant and powerful music on the planet, Twickster! Welcome to the world of opera.
Figaro is incredible. Every note is beautiful beyond description. And the libretto – it’s funny, but there’s a lot beneath the surface. It’s all about forgiveness, if you listen all the way through, reading along with a translation. It’s a great love story (two great love stories, really), about real human beings with strengths and flaws and everything.
And, oh my God, that music. Voi che sapete perfectly captures the longing curiousity of an adolescent boy. The Countess, mourning the passing of her love, in Dove Sono (nothing funny about that one). The Countess and Susanna conspiring to trick their men in that gorgeous duet (Sull’aria). And Susanna’s aria in the last act (Deh, vieni, non tardar), well, if that doesn’t move you to tears, you’re made of stone. And the Count, sincerely begging forgiveness (Contessa, perdono), and getting it (Piú docile io sono), that’s the message of the whole rigamarole. Forgiveness.