The old Yiddish theater standard popularized by the Andrews Sisters as “Bei mir bist du schoen” includes the line “I could say bella, bella, even say wunderbar.” It’s an apt response to the Metropolitan Opera’s revival of “Rodelinda,” an Italian opera written by a German in England.

Georg Frederic Handel wrote “Rodelinda” for the Royal Academy and its repertory company. Whereas many modern companies present Handel with major cuts, this Met effort includes restored material that Handel himself had designated for potential excision.

In the first 10 minutes of the evening, Renee Fleming, as Queen Rodelinda, stumbled badly. In her first aria, she landed well below the mark of her initial high note and struggled for breath in her beginning foray into the complex ornamentation that is the heart of this florid vocal style. But Ms. Fleming righted herself admirably and, except for some hard edges at the beginning of Act II,delivered a very fine performance.

Most notable was her impassioned scene culminating in the “Morrai, si.” This music, unlike some of the Handel works in English, such as this season’s “Hercules” at BAM, has an undercurrent of exuberantly happy major-key melody arrestingly akin to Handel’s concerti grossi. Even when the emotions of the characters are sorrowful or angry, the orchestra seems to be anticipating the ending of the piece, wherein heroes and villains get together for one more rousing, gleeful chorus.

It takes a master singer to convey the depth of maternal misery and outrage that Ms. Fleming was able to muster against this backdrop. Also thrilling was her heartfelt plea, accompanied by sublime recorder music, from the darkness of Act III. This voice of such sweetness can be supremely empathetic. I’m guessing that Ms. Fleming will never be an expert in fioratura, but she can at least hold her own in a challenging role such as this one.

The role of Rodelinda’s husband, Bertarido, is for a countertenor, which can be difficult going for some listeners. When Benjamin Britten wrote the part of Oberon in his “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” for a countertenor, he was attempting to set his monarch apart from all of the creatures of the known universe. This is all well and good for the king of the fairies, but in heroic roles, a thin, inordinately high voice can be unsettling. Up until the late 1980s, characters singing countertenor roles were usually portrayed by women, since the original method of creating the proper male voice has been thankfully outlawed – even for period instrument performances. Today, countertenors, like Handel opera itself, are now all the rage.

Andreas Scholl, the evening’s Bertarido, is such a sensitive artist that he may be able to make a believer of even the most hardcore of skeptics. Mr. Scholl dazzled in his “Dove sei” as he contemplated his own tombstone. He is particularly adept at the cavatina portion of his endeavors, but can also deliver the tongue-twisting cabalettas required of him. He has a good range of emotions and a powerful, high-octane voice, with the caveat that he is operating under the strictures of a unique tessitura. Mr. Scholl did show some strain by Act III, but this was forgivable.

For the rest, Stephanie Blythe was terrific as Eduige, the best practitioner of ornamentation of the lot. John Relyea was confident; he has quickly has established himself as the most reliable basso in the Met’s own version of a repertory company. Christophe Dumaux was a pale shadow of Mr. Scholl, a countertenor more anemically like the stereotype that drives some of us a little crazy. He was a marvel of pitch control, but fingernails on the chalkboard to me. And Zachary Vail Elkind, who is the first and last character of the evening, was charming as Flavio, son of our hero and heroine – and required to emote in dumbshow the entire night.

But special praise is reserved for the tenor of Kobie van Rensburg, who had a simply spectacular night. Here was a big voice anticipating the great Romantic tradition, exceptionally able to pace himself and hit the high notes, dexterous enough to ornament flawlessly, subtle enough to convey his character’s conflicted ambiguity. He is a bit of a blackguard to be sure, but we find ourselves rooting for him. When he lingers, Amneris-like, above ground as the happy couple is reunited in the lower prison, he steals our hearts. And none of this would have worked very well without the crisp conducting of Patrick Summers or the inventive sets of Thomas Lynch

“Rodelina” will be performed again on May 6, 10, 13, and 19 (Metropolitan Opera House, 212-362-6000).