The Metropolitan Opera has revived maybe its most delightful show: “L’Elisir d’Amore” (“The Elixir of Love”), by Donizetti, in the 1991 production of John Copley. I’ve said that this production looks like a Valentine’s Day card: all pinks and ruffles. Then again, it can look like an Easter basket. At any rate, it’s irresistible.

And, no, the Met is not staging “The Elixir” on Valentine’s Day – that night, they’re doing “Samson and Delilah,” not nearly as fun. (Something about having one’s eyes gouged out.)

The last time the Met presented this “Elixir,” the starring roles were taken by “the Love Couple,” Angela Gheorghiu (the Romanian soprano) and Roberto Alagna (the French-Italian tenor). Love ’em or hate ’em – and if you hate ’em, you’re mistaken – that was a clinic of bel canto singing.This season, the leading roles are taken by the American soprano Ruth Ann Swenson and the Mexican tenor Ramon Vargas. On Monday night, Miss Swenson put on a clinic. And Mr. Vargas was pretty good as well.

Miss Swenson sang purely and spiritedly, a very good combination for Donizetti (certainly for Adina, Miss Swenson’s role). Her intonation was excellent, and her diction clear. Miss Swenson’s high notes were wonderful – until she got above high C, and those notes tended to be hard (hard in tone). But they were there, give her that.

I sometimes think that this soprano is underrated, lacking the p.r. machine that some others have. But Monday night’s audience screamed for her, and that was to its credit.

Mr. Vargas is the tenor workhorse of the Met this season: singing not just Nemorino in this opera, but also Romeo in the Gounod opera and Edgardo in Donizetti’s “Lucia di Lammermoor.” He is not especially Italianate in sound, and he is often not Italianate in execution – but he makes a fine Nemorino. His problems on Monday night included some iffy intonation. For example, he turned one major third into a minor third. And some high notes were not exactly ringing.

But Nemorino’s big moment is the aria “Una furtiva lagrima,” and Mr.Vargas rendered it cleanly and sensitively.

He also proved himself an endearing actor in the role, conveying the right ingenuousness. And he was hilarious when dancing while drunk. I hadn’t quite realized that Mr. Vargas could let his hair down like that. The couple behind me were laughing like they were watching “I Love Lucy.”

This opera needs two baritones: the one singing Belcore and the other singing Dr. Dulcamara. (Actually, Dulcamara can be sung by a bass.) Belcore was an Australian baritone, Peter Coleman-Wright. His sound – particularly in the beginning – was muffled, as though in the back of the throat. But he is a keen singer, an intelligent singer. And he had Belcore to a T: marvelously pompous and unself-aware.

Dr. Dulcamara – what a delicious role – was an English baritone, Andrew Shore. He made the most of his opportunity, giving us due buffoonery, but not descending into the absurd. And he spat out those torrents of Italian words capably. (There’s a bit of patter in this role’s music.)

Doing the honors in the pit was Maurizio Barbacini. He acquitted himself well. Mr. Barbacini shaped the overture with great care, not merely tossing it off. In fact, this was a conductor who wanted things: who was not, to use a once-popular phrase, a potted plant. Often, an Italian conductor comes to the Met to conduct an Italian opera, and leaves no impression. These guys can seem interchangeable. But Mr. Barbacini left a distinct impression.

The performance lacked a certain crispness – this was especially noticeable in the ensembles. And the coordination between the band onstage and the orchestra in the pit was nil. But Mr. Barbacini, no clockpuncher, showed some style. Do you know the moment when Adina, that flirty snob, confesses her love to Nemorino? Mr. Barbacini built that music excitingly.

Someday, the Met will commission a new production of “The Elixir of Love,” and that will not necessarily be a good day. The Copley production is … dare one say perfect? Sharon Thomas has provided winning stage direction. You just beam all through this show. And you can see it. What I mean is, you can see the stage, and everything on it – the production is generously lit. An opera-savvy friend of mine was complaining, the other week, that you can’t see anything at the Met: All the productions are dark. With “The Elixir,” no problem.

Ultimate kudos should go to Donizetti himself, who was never more masterly than in this opera. There is felicity on every page. At the end of the Met’s production, a banner is unfurled, reading, “Viva l’Amore.” Hear, hear – and Viva Donizetti, too.

“L’Elisir d’Amore” will be performed again January 7 and May 13, 17 & 20 at the Metropolitan Opera House (Lincoln Center, 212-362-6000).