80, is a 1935 comic opera in three acts by Richard Strauss to a libretto by Stefan Zweig after Ben Jonson's 1609 comedy Epicœne, or The Silent Woman.

Since Elektra and Der Rosenkavalier, with only the exception of Intermezzo, all previous operas by Strauss were based on libretti by Hugo von Hofmannsthal, who died in 1929.

In his autobiography The World of Yesterday, Zweig describes how Strauss got in touch with him after Hofmannsthal's death to ask him to write a libretto for a new opera.

His son had married a Jewess and thus he feared that his grandchildren, whom he loved above all else, would be excluded as scum from the schools; his earlier operas tainted through the half-Jew Hugo von Hofmannsthal; his publisher was a Jew.

[1]The fact that Zweig was a Jew was causing potential problems for the performance of the opera: in the summer of 1934 the Nazi press began to attack Strauss on this issue.

Joseph Goebbels wanted to use Strauss's international reputation and was willing to relax the rule against works with non-Aryan artists.

On 6 July 1935, Strauss was visited at his home by a Nazi official sent by Goebbels and told to resign from his position as president of the Reichsmusikkammer on grounds of "ill health", less than two years after he had taken up the post.

Zweig and Strauss continued to work together secretly (with Joseph Gregor), mainly on the libretto for the opera Friedenstag which was premiered in 1938.

Strauss outlived the Nazi regime by four years and was happy when the opera was revived shortly after the end of the war.

He wrote to Joseph Keilberth, the director of the Dresden Opera House where the opera was first revived: "Now, after ten years, the honorable Sir Morosus has been liberated from the concentration camp of the Reichstheaterkammer and has returned to his native town, where twelve years ago I had a lot of trouble to get the name of the librettist on the program".

Depressed by the growth of intolerance, authoritarianism, and Nazism, feeling hopeless for the future for humanity, he committed suicide on 23 February 1942.

The Barber next introduces Isotta, playing the role of noble lady educated in a wide range of subjects.

She wreaks havoc in the house pulling down the curtains and throws some of the captains most precious possessions onto the floor ("away with this junk").

A grateful Morosus thanks Henry: he has survived many sea battles and hurricanes, but would not stand a chance against someone like Timidia.

In addition, she has appointed a pianist (Farfallo) and a singing teacher (Henry) who practice Monteverdi’s "L’incoronaziane di Poppea" with her.

The Barber walks in and introduces a "Lord Chief Justice" (Vanuzzi) and "Two lawyers" (Morbio and Farfallo) who discuss the prospective divorce.

The barber argues that she has had relations before the marriage to Sir John and the two "honorable ladies" (Isotta and Carlotta) attest to this.

Morosus scents victory and is about to celebrate when the lawyers raise a further barrier to divorce: the marriage agreement did not stipulate the virginity of the bride, so "you will have to keep her now".

After the captain realizes he has been fooled his initial anger turns to laughter as he sees the funny side of a troupe of actors outwitting him.

The story line of an old man marrying a young woman who turns out rather differently to what he expected has its roots in classical antiquity: the play Casina by Plautus (251–184 B.C.)

Perhaps the closest progenitor is from the Declamatio Sexta, a Latin translation of mythological themes from the Greek sophist Libanius.

[19] Jonson's comedy had been used before as the basis for an opera: in 1800 Antonio Salieri's Angiolina ossia Il Matrimonio, and in 1810 Stefano Pavesi wrote the opera Ser Marcantonio which in turn formed the basis for Donizetti's Don Pasquale with characters based upon the Commedia dell'arte (thus Morose becomes Don Pasquale who is based on Pantalone).

Sir Morosus is a retired naval captain with a distinguished career: the Barber explains to the others that an explosion on ship caused his aversion to noise (and his capture of Spanish galleons the source of his wealth).

However, the Barber's arguments do lead him to see the emptiness of living alone: Every Day, every night with oneself at home, No son, no heir, no nephew, no friend, No-one in the world on whom to attend.

To know there is someone for whom one is real, for whom one breathes, to whom one confesses, Someone for whom one lives and for whom one dies, And is there when one grows cold to close one's eyes and fold one's hands, Yes that would be good.

At the heart of act 2, just before the sham marriage, "Timidia" speaks to Morosus: Oh Lord, I swear by the holy sacrament: I feel I could be truly fond of you As one piously loves and honours a father, as one who has given me the best in life.

Likewise when the gentleman (Henry in disguise) is bought in as a witness, he says he has had "carnal relations" with Timidia, to which she again replies "I have belonged to no other man than my husband."

In Zweig's libretto,[28] the charade has served a benign purpose: Morosus realizes his folly and states "You did the right thing, rag a fool and thrash his stupidity."

Morosus now has all he wants: a loving nephew as his heir, an admiring "daughter in law" and most of all the peace and quiet he has been seeking.

Sir Morosus has the final word in an aria which has become the best known part of the opera "Wie schön ist doch die Musik".