Identifier: victrolabookofop00vict (find matches)
Title: The Victrola book of the opera : stories of one hundred and twenty operas with seven-hundred illustrations and descriptions of twelve-hundred Victor opera records
Year: 1917 (1910s)
Authors: Victor Talking Machine Company Rous, Samuel Holland
Subjects: Operas
Publisher: Camden, N.J. : Victor Talking Machine Co.
Contributing Library: Harold B. Lee Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University

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Text Appearing Before Image:
PHOTO REUTUNGER THE CARDS PREDICT CARMENS DEAT1(EMMA CALVE) * Double-Faced Record—See page 69. (In French) 88534 12-inch. $3.00By Lavin de Casas, Contralto(Piano ace.)(Inltalian) *62617 10-inch, .75 Carmen tells her own fate by the cards,reading death, first for herself and then for herlover. In vain she shuffles and re-tries theresult; the answer is ever the same. Carmen: Come, let me know my destiny.Pictures! spades! a grave!They lie not; first to me, and then to him,And then to both—a grave! The neighboring camp being ready, thesmugglers retire, and the stage is once moredeserted. Je dis que rien ne mepouvante(Micaelas Air/41 am not Faint-HeartecT) By Luisa Tetrazzini, Soprano (Inltalian) 88503 12-inch, $3.00By Geraldine Farrar, Soprano (In French) 88144 12-inch, 3.00By Frances Alda, Soprano (In French) 74353 12-inch, 1.50By Alma Gluck, Soprano (In French) 74245 12-inch, 1.50 65
Text Appearing After Image:
VICTROLA BOOK OF THE OPERA-BIZETS CARMEN Into this strange and wild scene now enters Micaela, the peasant sweetheart of Don Jose,who has forgotten her in his fascination for the wayward Carmen. Micaela has braved thedangers of the road to the smugglers retreat, whither Don Jose has followed Carmen, to carryto the soldier a message from his dying mother. The innocent girl is frightened by the vastand lonely mountains, and in her aria appeals to Heaven to protect her, ingenuously con-fessing her love for Don Jose and her detestation of the woman who hasled him away from his duty.Micaela: I try not to own that I tremble; But I know Im a coward, altho bold Iappear.Ah! how can I ever call up my courage, While horror and dread chill my sad heartwith fear?Here, in this savage retreat, sad and weary am I,Alone and sore afraid.Ah! heavn, to thee I humbly pray, Protect thou me, and guide and aid!I shall see the guilty creature, Who by infernal arts doth severFrom his country, from his duty, Him

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