The opera centers on two young Venetian gondoliers named
Marco and Giuseppe Palmieri. They are very popular with the
local girls, and, early in the opera, marry two of them.
Meanwhile, a party of Spaniards arrives in Venice: the Duke
and Duchess of Plaza-Toro, their daughter Casilda, and their
drummer Luiz (they cannot afford the pretension of an entire
band). They have come to meet the Grand Inquisitor of Spain,
Don Alhambra. The duke and duchess tell their daughter that
when she was only six months old she was married to the infant
son of the King of Barataria. It turns out that the Grand
Inquisitor kidnapped the young boy and took him to Venice,
because the King had converted to Methodism. The King has
recently been killed, and so Casilda has been brought to
Venice to be united with her husband, who will assume the
throne. Casilda is not happy about having been married without
her permission or knowledge, and in fact she is in love with
Luiz.
The Grand Inquisitor arrives and reveals still more
complications: when he brought the young prince to Venice, he
left him with a "highly respectable gondolier,"
to be raised alongside the boatman's own son. But the boatman
was a drunk and lost track of which boy was which, and besides
he is now dead. However, the prince's nurse (who turns out to
be Luiz's mother) will be able to identify him, with the help
of a little torture if necessary. She is living in the
mountains around Cordoba, married to "a highly respectable
brigand."
The Grand Inquisitor tells the Palmieri boys that one of them
is a king and that they should both move to Spain until it can
be determined which is which. He does not mention that the
king is already married, and thus a bigamist. The boys agree
to the plan. Both are republicans, and they announce that they
will rule in an egalitarian way. The opening of act 2 finds
them doing just that: they are doing all the work around the
palace, and everyone else has been promoted into the nobility.
The Grand Inquisitor arrives, and tells them that one of them
has already been married to Casilda. Casilda too shows up with
her parents, and tells the boys that she will be a good wife
and queen to one of them, but she is in love with someone
else. This proves cause for celebration to the boys and
especially their wives.
The opera concludes with the appearance of the old nurse, who
says that in fact neither of the Palmieri boys is a prince.
When the Grand Inquisitor instructed her to steal the infant,
she gave him her own child instead, and raised the prince as
her child. So Luiz is the king of Barataria, Casilda does not
have to renounce him, and the Palmieri couples can return to
their rightful home. The opera ends with a celebratory dance.
It turns out, then, that neither of the young gondoliers is
noble, and after they have returned to Venice the servants can
return to doing the work in the Spanish court, and the
nobility can return to doing nothing. Class distinctions are
affirmed as they must be at the end of a comic subversion. But
along the way, the opera has suggested that nothing
substantial at all separates dukes from boatmen. Simon Dedalus
appears to have rather missed the point.
The lyrics to Don Alhambra's aria about a "highly respectable
gondolier" are as follows:
I stole the prince and I brought him here and I left him
gaily prattling
With a highly respectable gondolier, who promised the Royal
babe to rear
And teach him the trade of a timoneer with his own beloved
bratling!
Both of the babes were strong and stout, and, considering all
things, clever
Of that there is no manner of doubt, no probable, possible,
shadow of doubt,
No possible doubt whatever!
Time sped, and when, at the end of the year, I sought that
infant cherished,
That highly respectable gondolier was lying a corpse on his
humble bier—
I dropped a Grand Inquisitor's tear; that gondolier had
perished!
A taste for drink, combined with gout, had doubled him up
forever!
Of that there is no manner of doubt, no probable, possible,
shadow of doubt,
No possible doubt whatever!
But owing, I'm much disposed to fear, to his terrible taste
for tippling,
That highly respectable gondolier could never declare with a
mind sincere
Which of the two was his offspring dear, and which the royal
stripling.
Which was which he could never make out, despite his best
endeavour
Of that there is no manner of doubt, no probable, possible,
shadow of doubt,
No possible doubt whatever!
The children followed his old career—this statement can't be
parried—
Of a highly respectable gondolier; Well, one of the two (who
will soon be here)
But which of the two it is not quite clear—is the royal prince
you married!
Search in and out and round about and you'll discover never
A tale so free from every doubt, all probable, possible,
shadow of doubt,
All possible doubt whatever!
