Three Queens but (we note) one Beverly Sills: the prospect will not be welcome in all quarters. Welcome or not‚ I am still for recommending this handsome boxed set‚ and for a start can report personal enjoyment‚ the extent of which surprised and a little disconcerted me. The recordings date from 1969 (Roberto Devereux) to 1972 (Maria Stuarda)‚ a period which though post­Callas was still quite early in the Donizetti revival on records. We were glad to have them at the time‚ and yet they disappeared from view without being greatly missed. Memory retained a view of Sills herself as singing all three with intense feeling‚ vivid expression‚ skinny tone except on high‚ and a vocal line ornamented as richly as those jewel­encrusted gowns worn by Gloriana when she meant to dazzle the world. On the other hand memories of the recorded sound did not produce good vibrations. One pleasant discovery on revisiting these recordings was to find how well the three operas work in succession‚ how the first created an appetite for the second‚ and how impressively Donizetti’s development could be traced on into the third. Roberto Devereux has its share of musical absurdities‚ notably in Roberto’s jolly cabaletta in the Tower‚ but there are real advances too‚ evident even in the first chord of the Overture‚ which slices the silence like the headsman’s axe. Another pleasure lies in the varied nature but consistent quality of the supporting casts. In each‚ the seconda donna plays an important part‚ and the three here are eminently worth hearing. Eileen Farrell as Elizabeth in Maria Stuarda sounds not entirely happy – and her autobiography (Can’t help singing: Northeastern University Press‚ 1999) shows that indeed she was not. The conductor‚ Aldo Ceccato‚ insisted on speeds so slow that at one point‚ she confesses‚ ‘I thought I was going to pass out’. She nevertheless has what some more recent singers of the part on records have conspicuously lacked – the conviction of a strong personality. Shirley Verrett is a superb Giovanna (or Jane Seymour) in Anna Bolena; and in Roberto Devereux Beverly Wolff sings with a fine concentration of tone and feeling‚ especially in Act 3. Patricia Kern appears in two of the operas‚ leaving the impression that she could well have sung one (or any) of the big mezzo roles. As Essex‚ Róbert Ilosfalvy warms to the task rather late in the opera‚ reserving his best for the cruel tessitura of his final solo. Stuart Burrows as Percy and Leicester turns the lyrical sweetness of his voice to good account‚ though one misses the authentic Italianate ring especially in Maria Stuarda. Then it is good to have Louis Quilico’s richness and even production‚ while in Roberto Devereux Peter Glossop provides a worthy and rather more expressive counterpart. Paul Plishka’s Henry VIII has implacable sonority‚ and Don Garrard‚ in a small part‚ has enough to sing to make one wish for more. Choruses and orchestras are excellent. Mackerras conducts with the most lively sense of enjoyment; Rudel is judicious; Ceccato is particularly good in his handling of concerted numbers. Some anomalies of imbalance between voices and orchestra make one wonder what is happening in Maria Stuarda‚ and in Roberto Devereux the occasional touches of stage­production are the more obtrusive by being so few. The re­mastering is vivid but not glaring. Which leaves the three Queens or the one Beverly Sills‚ whose strengths and weaknesses are much as remembered. But hear Elizabeth’s first aria (‘L’amor suo’) in Roberto Devereux for the delicate beauty of her singing at its best; then try any of those blazing confrontations involving such an expense of voice and spirit: in their combination of frailty and heroism these are performances not to be missed.