The long-expected opera by Mr. Edward German and Sir W. S. Gilbert was produced at the Savoy to-night, and bids fair to fill the theatre for many months. Some slackness in the first act—which it would not be difficult to remedy—interferes a little with the smooth progress of the whole, but apart from that the interest is kept alive from first to last, and the music is thoroughly delightful. The chief weakness arises from the very things which we had been told were to be the most interesting characteristic—the absence of male chorus and tenor hero.

The audience was a very brilliant one, and the reception exceedingly enthusiastic—nearly everything was encored, and everything might have been. The libretto is the old play “The Wicked World,” in which Sir William—then Mr. Gilbert—first revealed to the world the possibilities of topsy turveydom. It contains the germs of much of the later Gilbertian philosophy and cosmogony. We actually have the words:-- “Away to you, Good day to you, That’s all we have to say to you” in which every Savoyard will recognise a close relation of one of his best friends.

The fairies, ruled over by Silene [sic], live in fairyland immaculate, and know nothing of man save that he is wicked. Each fairy has his or her counterpart on earth, “a parallel identity” so like that no one can see the difference, but the fairies are sinless, the men and women stupid [sic] in infamy. Lutin, a fairy traveller, returns from earth to tell how wicked man is—he will not even relate one incident from his experience so terrible has it been. The fairies then wonder how it is that man, being so wicked and so wretched, prefers to live when he might put an end to himself. The Queen explains that it is because of love. The fairies are anxious to know more of love, and to reform the world. They argue that one man or two might study perfection in fairyland, and then return to earth and teach their fellow-men to be good—“Comparatively respectable” is the Gilbertian phrase. It is resolved to try the experiment by means of a half-forgotten law in the fairy constitution, in virtue of which an absent fairy’s mortal counterpart may be summoned from earth. As two fairies, Ethais and Phyllon, are on earth their mortal doubles are called up—and suddenly appear two Hunnish knights fighting a deadly duel, which the fairies, more Gilbertiano, mistake for a game of skill.

The fairies treat them well, fulfilling the Queen’s command—“Treat them as though they were what they will be when they have seen what we shall be to them.” Lutin warns the fairies of the evils of love in vain, and love and hate and jealousy run riot among them. The mortal Lutin—a droll churl—is summoned to heal a wound Ethais had in his fight with Phyllon. Darine is consumed with jealousy of Silene and supplants her as Queen, Silene curses Ethais because he prefers Darine to herself, and in the end the knights have enough of Fairyland and go back to earth. “where women are not devils till they die.”

The Opera ends with the restoration of Silene to her throne, and a sermon against self-righteousness. Fairies, she says, are good because they never have been tempted. When temptation comes they give away to evil passions even as mortals do.

It is a good libretto, though not as closely knit as the later ones of Gilbert, in which the art of conciseness reaches its extreme limits. It is full of verbal felicities and quaint conceits, and of true Gilbertian contempt for convention. The mortal Lutin, a henpecked husband and a terrible flirt, is an amusing creation—doubly amusing because the fairy Lutin is as far removed from love as Mime himself.

Mr. German’s music is as important as the book itself, and fits it as well as any music except Sullivan’s own could. His more dramatic musical appeals more strongly to the twentieth-century ears than Sullivan’s would have done. The music of the curse of Silene, part of the finale of the first act, and the music which accompanies the crowning of Darine and Darine’s solo of triumph with the charm are worthy of grand opera, and besides being dramatic are melodious; and the fairy Lutin’s song of the perils of love in act i. has dramatic fire. Of the more humorous songs the best is the duet between Ethais and Silene, When a knight loves ladye, Hey, but a maid is a sorry little jade, He sighs and he sings lackadady, both as to music and as to lyrics.

The music which accompanies the violent entrance of the mortal Lutin is, perhaps, the most effective of the whole opera. There is great charm, too, in a trio of fairies in the first act, “Oh, gentle knights with joy elate,” and Lutin’s song of the joys of Mahomet’s paradise is excellently humorous. The part-writing in the choruses is masterly, and Mr. German has nearly escaped the danger of monotony inherent in the absence of male voices.

The performance was excellent, and the chorus in particular deserves the highest praise. The freshness and fullness of the voices was a delight to the ear, and the dresses a feast for the eye. Miss Nancy M‘Intosh as Silene, Mr. Workman as Lutin, and Mr. Claude Fleming [sic] as Ethais bear the brunt of the burden, and all three won great favour, especially Mr. Workman, who was very droll in the second act. Miss Jessie Rose as Dayda [sic] and Miss Maidie Hope as Darine made a great impression, chiefly in the more dramatic moments. The composer conducted, and great enthusiasm prevailed.