Ballet pantomime in one act premiered on 6th July 1863 at the Théâtre Impérial de l’Opéra, Paris

Choreography: Arthur Saint-Léon

Music: Cesare Pugni

Premiers Rôles

Diavolina: Marfa Muravieva

Gennariello: Louis Mérante

Donna Marianna: Louise Marquet

Don Peppino: M Dauty

Don Fortunato: M Lenfant

Don Chichillo: M Coralli

Bridoux: M Berthier

 

Plot

Summary

The scene depicts a charming countryside near Caserta. To stage right is the home of Diavolina, with a small balcony.

Everything is resplendent with happiness and joy in the small town of Caserta and its surroundings; the countryside seems to have donned its finest festive attire, as if to celebrate a public rejoicing. For Diavolina, a beautiful and spirited local girl, loved by all, is about to marry Gennariello, one of the richest fishermen on the coast, and, without a doubt, the darling of the place.

The zambogari are having a matinata under the windows of the beautiful bride-to-be.

Donna Marianna, Diavolina’s cousin, rushes out of the house, deafened by the discordant concerto, to confront these ear-splitting harassers, who only redouble their racket by blowing at full blast into their zampogne.

Poor Marianna despairs of ever getting rid of these pests: musicians whose tactic is to assault ears to get money; tenacious and tireless beggars who, seeing no mercy in the face of any begging, rely less on harmony to soften alms than on their unbearable obsession.

Meanwhile, Sergeant Bridoux arrives, pursuing the attentions of the beautiful Marianna; seeing her struggling with the zambogari, the gallant sergeant does not miss such a fine opportunity to woo her, and, calling on the drum major for help, the two of them give such a chase to these infernal musicians that they are forced to leave the area. 

Don Peppino, Diavolina’s guardian, brings his young ward the buon augurio (a custom which consists of offering the new bride linen and bread, as a prophecy that neither will ever lack in her house, a medallion containing indulgences, and, moreover, a fine pair of horns to ward off jettatura).

Don Peppino gets caught up in the fight with the pursued zambogari and only escapes by throwing a few grani at them.

After embracing Donna Marianna, wishing her all the graces of providence, in honour of such a prosperous day, he heads towards Diavolina’s house, on the threshold of which he meets a joyful swarm of young girls, all radiant, who come to congratulate the happy fiancée. 

They call for Diavolina, who is still at her toilet; Donna Marianna goes to announce their presence and hasten her arrival. Diavolina, the angelic demon of Caserta, appears rosy-cheeked, beautiful, and adorned; she graciously receives the buon augurio from her godfather and the congratulations of her companions. They express their desire to admire her wedding basket and bridal gown; and Marianna takes them with her into the house.

Diavolina is surprised and upset that she hasn’t yet received Gennariello. Shouldn’t he be here, and give her her first bouquet? This lack of eagerness is unforgivable. She vows to make him pay dearly for it.

The young girls return with Marianna, who is wearing the virginal crown and the unfinished bride’s gown. Diavolina, eager to adorn herself with these beautiful things, and to show her companions how well her outfit suits her, places the garland of orange blossoms on her head. Marianna opposes this coquettish display and insists that nothing be tried on until the dress is completely finished. The young girls, wanting to enjoy seeing the bride in all her finery sooner, all propose to help finish the dress; Diavolina doesn’t mind working on such a beautiful day, she prefers to wait for her fiancé. Her cousin gently teases her about it and goes back into the house with the girls. 

Diavolina, left alone, rises on tiptoe to see in the distance if she can spot the one whom her lover awaits with feverish impatience. Her love had guessed it…it is Gennariello! He runs up, breathless and quite embarrassed at being so late. Diavolina sees all this; she could forgive him, and with a smile bring calm and joy back to her lover’s heart, but the cruel girl has sworn revenge; at his approach, she quickly sits down on the bench and pretends to sleep. 

Gennariello feels very guilty about such an unforgivable delay and ponders how to redeem himself. He sees Diavolina, “how beautiful she is like that,” he thinks. He also thinks that a trick would be a good means of reconciliation, and certainly the moment is favourable but the sleeping beauty is watching too closely.

But the sleeping beauty is too vigilant to let him catch her; she awakes just in time to avoid the kiss; Gennariello recoils, utterly confused, and dares not show himself.

The cunning young woman pretends to still be under the spell of an interrupted dream. She was dressed as a grand lady, surrounded by wealthy lords; one in particular, young and handsome, was very attentive to her; after making her dance, he shook her hand and kissed it. She doesn’t know why, but it made her very happy.

Gennariello, furious at what he has just heard, appears before his fiancée, who seems quite surprised to see him there, and reproaches her for having broken her oath: “It is perjury to be unfaithful even in a dream,” he tells her. Diavolina seems to hear all this with the deepest astonishment. What oaths, what love does Gennariello want to talk about? She remembers nothing.

Poor Gennariello, in his despair, speaks of nothing less than dying, the pitiless young woman laughs at his martyrdom and mocks him to the point of defiance: disappointed by the lack of success of his threat, the lovelorn fisherman changes tack, he becomes gentle and docile again with his mistress, and, filled with resigned sadness, he gathers his nets, loads them onto his shoulders, and leaves. Diavolina stops him by placing her small foot on a trailing end of the net, which she picks up and playfully throws over her fiancé’s head, so as to envelop him. The kiss of peace is given and received. Gennariello is forgiven.

A scène dansante to cement the reconciliation of the two lovers. 

At the back of the theatre, we see Neapolitan fishermen filing past, come to congratulate the engaged couple. Gennariello welcomes them and invites them to dance the Pas de la Scarpetta (the symbolic idea of this step lies in the fact that the dancer in love with his partner places his shoe on the ground; if the beloved girl, while dancing, manages to put on the shoe without turning it over, her partner becomes her husband; otherwise, all hope is lost). 

Once la scarpetta is accepted, the young women are called in, and, having finally finished the bride’s dress, they joyfully begin to dance. Sergeant Bridoux tries to flirt with Donna Marianna, but his gallant attempts are thwarted by the arrival of Don Fortunato and his wife Francesca, followed by numerous peasants and sailors from the surrounding area. Don Fortunato is a wealthy bourgeois who is to be Diavolina’s witness. 

Then arrives Don Chichillo, one of the local dandies, a kind of clumsy and facetious entertainer, aiming for effect and sacrificing himself against propriety and good taste to get noticed.

Don Chichillo finds nothing more pleasant than to be entertained by a troupe of peasants equipped with all the musical instruments used in the countryside; he himself plays a discordant and shrill aria, with which he pretends to be “Mother Diavolina.” In his haste, he bumps into everyone, steps on one person’s feet, jostles another; nearly knocks over Don Fortunato and steps on Francesca’s dress; he loudly gives the signal for the concert, the audience’s ears of which are soon deafened.

Donna Marianna took care to have a sumptuous meal prepared. It was served to the great satisfaction of all the wedding guests; no one was forgotten, even the musicians partake of the feast. All the guests sat down at the table, the bride’s companions first, then finally Diavolina, and opposite her, her fiancé. 

Don Chichillo, still bewildered, appointed himself cupbearer and carelessly poured wine beside the glasses. This clumsiness became a hit, thanks to the Neapolitan prejudice that sees wine spilled on the tablecloth as a sign of happiness, prosperity, and abundance. 

Amused by this unexpected turn of events, Don Chichillo racked his brains to find a second prank that would be just as successful. Spying on the bride and groom, he noticed Gennariello and Diavolina reaching for each other’s hands behind the table, and hidden beneath the tablecloth, their feet whispered amorously. Is there more to such a perfect joke? Everyone drank to the health of the future spouses, Chichillo was absent from this toast! What has become of him? He cleverly slipped under the table, and, taking advantage of the moment when Gennariello’s hand furtively met Diavolina’s, he betrayed their secret agreement to everyone. 

Diavolina cried out in fright, jumped up, and with her, everyone left the table. Don Chichillo, pleased with his amiable joke, laughed heartily, and as he stood up, carried her on his back the table under which he was hiding.

Diavolina, ashamed and embarrassed at having been caught in flagrante delicto, becomes dreamy and sullen. Don Fortunato, to dispel the cloud that darkens the brow of the beautiful bride, gives the signal for the dance. The notary arrives to draw up the marriage contract, pays without withdrawing, as well as the young girls. Those who are still there, go into the next room, with the parents of the future spouses.

Gennariello greets his fiancée on the threshold, and they both listen to the first formulas of the contract.

“You see,” Gennariello says to his beautiful fiancée, “We’ll take care of ourselves, and soon We will be united for life.”

Gennariello, being a prudent husband, is keen to establish his marital authority immediately and lay down the conditions of his household in advance. He warns his wife that he is jealous; she will have to “refrain her relationship with her neighbours, neither to the right nor to the left.”

Diavolina doesn’t see it that way: she loves society and, on the contrary, wants her husband to introduce her to all the burghers in the area.

Gennariello wants to smoke, take snuff, drink, and play freely with his friends.

“Not at all,” Diavolina tells him, “a good husband should always stay close to his wife and only concern himself with pleasing her.” Gennariello fully expects his little wife to bring him his coffee herself every morning and put his curlers in. Diavolina protests this exorbitant demand and declares that she wants to be the mistress of the house and that her husband will be only too happy to serve.

And the two fiancés, mutually arousing each other with their own words, end up exacerbating the discussion and getting to a point close to anger.

“If you want friends to smoke, drink, and gamble with,” Diavolina tells him, “I want fine clothes, jewels, beautiful gowns, lots of visits, and lots of entertaining. I want horses, carriages, footmen in braid, and even little dogs, like the great ladies, and a host of other things just like the great ladies. If that doesn’t suit you, well, you can… there’s nothing decided between us yet, thank God…” And with that, Diavolina goes home, forbidding Gennariello to follow her. 

The poor lover, motionless and speechless before the door that had just closed behind him, collapses in despair on the threshold. How would he ever make peace with Diavolina? “Oh, Lord!” he thinks, “if the contract didn’t end…otherwise our wedding would be postponed…broken off perhaps…oh! Oh Lord…oh Lord…” 

Chichillo leaves Marianna’s house and asks Gennariello the cause of his despair. Gennariello tells him what happened between him and his fiancée and begs him for advice.

But how astonished they are to see Diavolina approaching from the other side of the house, tenderly leaning on Sergeant Bridoux’s arm. Playing his role as a smitten lover very well, he showers the young girl with the most gallant words and declarations of unparalleled love!

The unfortunate Gennariello remains petrified, unable to believe his eyes or ears! Yet how could he doubt? Diavolina is there, listening to the sergeant’s saccharine nonsense, to whom she promised tenderness and fidelity for life!

The poor lover was about to burst into despair! However, he thinks, what if it were only a feint? 

Suddenly changing tactics, he seems seized by vertigo, his body collapses in on itself, and he falls lifeless.

Chichillo himself believes his friend dead; he cries out, “My friend!”

Diavolina turns and rushes towards Gennariello, who, struggling to rise, takes her hand and says in an almost inaudible voice: “Be happy and pray for me!” Upon hearing these sinister words, Diavolina, beside herself with fear and despair, falls to her knees beside her lover, and, bathing him in her tears, assures him that all he has just seen and heard was but a joke, a test, and affirms to him in a voice full of love and truth that she has never wanted to love him and that her whole heart belongs to him. 

Gennariello can no longer contain himself; his heart leaps with happiness and joy. And at the moment when Diavolina presses him in her arms, he rises and embraces him, to the great astonishment of everyone and of Don Chichillo in particular, who gazes at his friend with admiration, saying to himself: “He’s a strong one!” 

The reconciled lovers offer a few words of explanation to the astonished onlookers and promise each other a long life and to never repeat their trials.

The dances begin.

Sergeant Bridoux asks Donna Marianna for a kiss, a token of appreciation for his willingness to submit to his cousin’s frenzy. Donna Marianna, who doesn’t care about paying off others’ debts, refuses and points out to the sergeant that a Frenchman shouldn’t demand payment for a good deed, and that the glory of having committed it should be enough for a truly French and warlike heart.

The sergeant swallows this maxim with a grimace, and as a consolation prize, asks to be reminded of his country by a few national rigaduons. His proposal is received by everyone with eagerness. This is followed by a military divertissement, entitled Le Bon Vieux Temps, in which Diavolina participates dressed as a vivandière in the French army.

Signing of the contract and finale.

 

History

Original Production

Diavolina is a ballet pantomime choreographed by Arthur Saint-Léon to music by Cesare Pugni. Pugni fashioned the score from a set of Neapolitan airs called Passatempi Musicali. It premièred in 1863 at the Paris Opéra, where the rôle of Diavolina was danced by Marfa Muravieva.

The ballet had begun its life in 1860, where it premièred at the Imperial Russian Ballet in 1860 as Graziela ou Les Dépits Amoureux. As part of Saint-Léon’s Parisian revision, he added the Chasse aux Hirondelles, a polka by Maximilien Graziani and a Pas de Deux that Pugni had composed for Saint-Léon’s 1861 revival of Santos Pinto’s La Perle de Séville which he expanded to a Pas de Quatre. The ballet proved to be more popular in Paris than in Russia, and remained in the Opéra’s repertory until 1874. 

Quotes from the article written by the critic of La France Musicale include:

“The ballet was perfectly mimed and warmly applauded, Mlle. Muravieva is ravishing in it; she was recalled four times the first evening, which was merited, for in addition to the qualities observed in her Giselle, [which Muravieva debuted in Paris the same year] she has revealed new qualities, although she has not yet been able completely to free herself from that stiffness which is a little antipathetic to the inherent grace of the French…”

“M. Saint-Léon is a celebrated maître de ballet worthy of his reputation; none know better than he how to compose pas and fit groups into a frame.”

Quotes from the article written by the critic of Le Ménestrel include:

“Neapolitan customs have furnished two zambogari, who play havoc with their bagpipes, and several pas, one of which in particular is very original the Pas de la Scarpetta… which La Muravieva executes with the most charming sprightliness.”

“I do not know if the Pas de la Niania is also of pure Neapolitan origin; it is most comical in its foolishness. Its persistent rhythm ends by dominating everyone: there is not a foot which does not beat in time, not a head which does not nod involuntarily…”

“As for the music of the new ballet by M. Pugni… on the pretext that the action passes at Naples, he has thought fit to pillage the celebrated collection of popular airs called Passatempi Musicali, which, starting from Naples, its birthplace, has toured the world…”

“M. Pugni, with an admirable candour, has literally transcribed from it half a dozen well-known airs.”

“He has added others no less well known, such as Le Roi Dagobert and Marlborough, a proceeding which cannot be excused on the ground of local colour. At least let it be recognized that all the music which M. Pugni has written or which has passed through his hands is essentially danceable.

“A pleasing musical hors d’œuvre to mention is the Danse des Pêcheurs, which is none other than the Chasse aux Hirondelles, a polka-galop by Maximilien Graziani, from whom Saint-Léon has often borrowed airs for his ballets.”

Selected Revivals

1904

Location: Imperial Mariinsky Theatre, St Petersburg

Staged as Graziella (presumably a revival of the 1860 St Petersburg original) for Vera Tefilova with Sergei Legat as Gennariello.

 

London Revivals

1877 Revival

In 1877 the ballet was revived by William Thompson at Her Majesty’s Theatre with musical revisions by François Bardet. 

As part of Thompson and Mapleson’s move to revive ballet in London, a grand revival of Ondine was to be staged in three acts and five scenes. Bardet was to revise the score and Thompson provided new choreography. Ondine would go on to become one of the most popular ballets in London, if not the most popular ballet. 

However, it soon became apparent that the ballet could not survive if it only presented one full-length ballet a season. It was decided to operate in the spirit of the Parisian model at the Opéra by including one or two shorter one-act ballets to function as diversions after operas. Due to their shorter length, they could be programmed more frequently, and would give the remainder of the dancers something to do without tiring out Isabella Velluti, who was to portray the titular rôle in Ondine. Additionally, Thompson was well aware that Marguerite Lemoine felt snubbed due to being passed over for the rôle of the naiad (she would instead portray Giannina), as Lemoine had worked with Thompson at the Linden Theatre. Thus, Lemoine could also be given a ballet to lead, if only a one-act diversion. 

For these one-act pieces, Thompson looked again to Paris which boasted a plethora of such works. Gretna Green had premièred in 1873 to good reviews, but its run had been cut short by the fire later that year. Diavolina had been given from the early 1860s until the early 1870s and La Vivandière from its introduction in the mid 1840s to the early 1860s. Other works included Graziosa and Le Marché des Innocents, which were both given until the early 1870s.

As such, Diavolina was revived for Marguerite Lemoine, the second première danseuse of the troupe. However, Thompson believed that a second diversion would be necessary (so that the audience would not tire of the first, a request which was granted by Mapleson. Eventually, Thompson settled on The Vivandiere as the second diversion to be revived, having been given in Paris with great success from its introduction in the 1840s through to the 1860s. Though Diavolina received good enough reviews, The Vivandiere seemed to be the preferred of the two. It remained in the repertory until 1882.

Rôles

Diavolina: Marguerite Lemoine

Musical Revisions

A new Variation was composed for the Pas de Trois.

A new Variation was composed for Diavolina as the drum major in Le Bon Vieux Temps.