We know that the authors, in utter defiance of mythology, wanted a happy ending and so brought Eurydice back to life a second time.  Love accomplished this miracle and the work ended with the song “Love Triumphs,” which is exceedingly joyful and in harmony with the situation.  They did not want this ending, which was in Orfeo and which Gluck retained in Orphee, at the old Theatre-Lyrique and the Opera-Comique, and they replaced it with a chorus by Echo and Narcissus.  This chorus is charming, but that does not excuse it.  Joy was what the author wanted and this does not give joy at all.  Gluck’s finale is regarded as not sufficiently distinguished, but this is wrong.  The real finale was sung at Mezieres and it was found that it was not at all common, but that its frank gaiety was in the best of taste.

Gluck had no scruples about grinding several grists from the same sack and drawing from his old works to help out his new ones.  So the parasitical aria attributed to Bertoni was written by Gluck in the first place in 1764 for a soprano.  He wove this into his opera Aristo in 1769.  This is also true of the trio, Tendre Amour, which precedes the finale in the last act.  A serious-minded analyst might be tempted to admire the profound psychology of the author in mingling doleful accents with expressions of joy, but he would have his labor for his pains.  The trio was taken from the opera Elena e Paride, where Gluck expressed strongly wrought up emotions.  Doret did not keep these two passages and one can’t blame him.  On the other hand, he retained, by making it an entr’acte, the Ballet des Furies.  This was taken from a ballet, Don Giovanni o il convitato de pietra, which was performed at Vienna in 1761.  This passage was used as the accompaniment to Don Juan’s descent into Hell, surrounded by his band of demons.

Many of Gluck’s compatriots came to Mezieres to see Orphee and they were loyal enough to recognize the superiority of the performance.  Some even had the courage to say, “We murder Gluck in Germany.”

I discovered that fact a long time ago.  In my youth I was indignant when I saw Paris, where Gluck wrote his finest works, quite neglecting them, whereas Germany continued to promote them.  In those days I was frequently called to the other side of the Rhine to play in concerts, and I watched for a chance to see one of these masterpieces which had been forgotten in France.  So it was with the liveliest joy that one day I entered one of the leading German theaters where they were giving Armide.  What a hollow mockery it was!

Madame Malten was Armide, and she was everything that could be wished in voice, talent, style, beauty and charm.  She spoke French without an accent and was as remarkable as an actress as a singer, so she would without doubt have had great success at the Opera in Paris.  She was Armide herself, an irresistible enchantress.