When the Carters re-emerged together after the aforementioned run of songs, it was as royalty: Beyoncé in purple and gold, Jay-Z in a blue suit. The stage began to move, hovering out over the center of the stadium floor as the couple surveyed their faithful close-up.

As an advertisement for the successful healing of old wounds, this performance was largely exemplary. Almost every time Beyoncé showed Jay-Z a flicker of attention, or lust, the crowd roared. Throughout the night Jay-Z appeared humbled, even when performing his most boastful material. At one point, he bowed to the crowd, one section at a time. Beyoncé’s voice was strong, and her dancing energized, though her overall intensity wasn’t quite at the level of her transcendent Coachella performance earlier this year.

But apart from the segment of the night in which the two appeared to be addressing their issues, and each other, this tour wasn’t radically different from the one four years ago. There were also set pieces cribbed from earlier performances of theirs. What has changed is that, in that time, Beyoncé has become the pre-eminent performer in pop, and the public power dynamic of their relationship has switched — she is the worldbeater now, and he is in the background.

Also, their catalogs aren’t always compatible. Jay-Z’s most celebratory moments arrive with pomposity, and Beyoncé is more given to joy. And when they turn inward, Jay-Z can be reserved, while Beyoncé seethes. Sometimes, the transitions between her songs and his, or vice versa, were awkward.

But when they performed together — “Crazy in Love,” “’03 Bonnie & Clyde” — they were fleet and carefree. And near the end of the night, as Jay-Z started up one of his hardest-hitting songs, “U Don’t Know,” the screen behind him showed a set of female horn players. It was a move from the Beyoncé playbook, making his work better and more layered by learning from the partner standing right next to him.