in the army of the Crusaders has proved blind to her charms.  All the rest are at her feet, but Rinaldo alone is obdurate.  She has had a boding dream, moreover, in which Rinaldo has vanquished her, and all the consolations of her maidens cannot restore her peace of mind.  Hidraot, her uncle, entreats her to choose a husband, but she declares that she will bestow her hand upon no one but the conqueror of Rinaldo.  While the chorus is celebrating her charms, Arontes, a Paynim warrior, enters bleeding and wounded, and tells how the prowess of a single knight has robbed him of his captives.  Armida at once recognises the hand of the recalcitrant Rinaldo, and the act ends with her vows of vengeance against the invincible hero.

The second act shows Rinaldo in quest of adventures which may win him the favour of Godfrey of Bouillon, whose wrath he has incurred.  Armida’s enchantments lead him to her magic gardens, where, amidst scenes of voluptuous beauty, he yields to the fascinations of the place, lays down his arms, and sinks into sleep.  Armida rushes in, dagger in hand, but the sight of the sleeping hero is too potent for her, and overcome by passion, she bids the spirits of the air transport them to the bounds of the universe.  In the third act we find that Rinaldo has rejected the love of the enchantress.  Armida is inconsolable; she is ashamed of her weakness, and will not listen to the well-meaning consolations of her attendants.  She calls upon the spirit of Hate, but when he appears she rejects his aid, and still clings desperately to her fatal passion.  The fourth act, which is entirely superfluous, is devoted to the adventures in the enchanted garden of Ubaldo and a Danish knight, two Crusaders who have set forth with the intention of rescuing Rinaldo from the clutches of the sorceress.  The fifth act takes place in Armida’s palace.  Rinaldo’s proud spirit has at length been subdued, and he is completely the slave of the enchantress.  The duet between the lovers is of the most bewitching loveliness, and much of it curiously anticipates the romantic element which was to burst forth in a future generation.  Armida tears herself from Rinaldo’s arms, and leaves him to be entertained by a ballet of spirits, while she transacts some business with the powers below.  Ubaldo and the Danish knight now burst in, and soon bring Rinaldo to a proper frame of mind.  He takes a polite farewell of Armida, who in vain attempts to prevent his going, and is walked off by his two Mentors.  Left alone, Armida calls on her demons to destroy the palace, and the opera ends in wild confusion and tumult.

To say that ‘Armide’ recalls the romantic grace of ‘Paride ed Elena,’ is but half the truth.  The lyrical grace of the earlier work is as it were concentrated and condensed in a series of pictures which for voluptuous beauty surpass anything that had been written before Gluck’s day.  Against the background formed by the magical splendour of the enchanted garden, the figure of Armida stands