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About the Operas

The Enchantress (1911)

by  Victor Herbert

MYSTERY! ROYALTY! INTRIGUE! PANIC! Just business as usual at the White House - oops, the Castle - in a mythical land called Zergovia, where the dashing Crown Prince Ivan has come of age and now must choose his Queen. Hopeful princesses from around the world, rarely good at rejection, are forced to face their fears when the enchanting Vivien Savary appears. Is she Austrian? Is she an Opera Diva?? Is she, or isn't she, Royalty???  From the bevy presented to him, where does true love come in? Add to that dilemma, all manner of devious advisors who wouldn’t mind sitting on his throne themselves.




Mama is a queen

And Papa is a king

So I am a princess and I know it

But court etiquette

Is a dull dreary thing

I just hate it all

And I show it

To be on the stage is the one life for me

My figure’s just like Tetrazzini

I know I’d win fame

If I sang in Boheme

That op’ra by Signor Puccini

I’ve roulades and the trills

That would send the cold chills 

Down the backs of all hearers of my vocal frills.


“Quando m’en vo

Quando m’en vo soletta per la via

La gente sosta e mira

So ben le angoscie tue non le vuoi dir

Non le vuoi di so ben ma ti sen . . . . »


I want to be a prima dona dona dona

I long to shine upon the stage

I have the embonpoint 

To become a queen of song

And my figure would look pretty as a page

I want to be a screechy peachy cantatrice

Like other plum girls that I see

I hate society

I hate propriety

Art is calling for me!


I’m in the elite

And men sigh at my feet

Still I do not fancy my position

I have not much use for the men that I meet

I just burn with lyric ambition

Those tenors so sweet 

If they made love to me

I’d be a success that I do know

And Netrebko I’d oust

If I once sang in Faust

That op’ra so charming by Gounod

Girls would be on the bring

Of hysterics I think

Even strong men would have to go out for a drink.


“Ah! Je ris de me voir si belle en ce miroir !

Ah ! Je ris de me voir si belle en ce miroir !

Est-ce toi, Marguerite ?

Est-ce toi ? Réponds moi ! 

Réponds, réponds, réponds vite ! »


I want to be a prima dona dona dona

I long to shine upon the stage

With my avoir du pois

And my tra-la-la-la las 

I would be the chief sensation of the age!

I long to hear them shouting 

‘Viva for the diva!’

How very lovely that must be

That’s what I’m dying for

That’s what I’m sighing for

Art is calling for me!

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