The Great Musicians: Rossini and His School Part 2

However, Velluti's singing was very beautiful and wonderfully successful with the public, which, after all, does no wrong in applauding what gives it so much pleasure. The pride of the young composer was deeply wounded; the opera failed, and the sopranist alone succeeded. Rossini's lively perception saw at once all that such an event could suggest. 'It is by a fortunate accident,' he said to himself, 'that Velluti happens to be a singer of taste, but how am I to know that at the next theatre I write for I shall not find another singer, who, with a flexible throat and an equal mania for _fioriture_, will not spoil my music so as to render it not only unrecognisable to me, but also wearisome to the public, or at least remarkable only for some details of execution? The danger to my unfortunate music is the more imminent, insomuch as there are no more singing schools in Italy. The theatres are full of artists who have picked up music from singing-masters about the country. This style of singing violin concertos, endless variations, will not only destroy all talent for singing, but will also vitiate the public taste.

All the singers will be imitating Velluti, each according to his means.

We shall have no more cantilenas; they would be thought poor and cold.

Everything will undergo a change, even to the nature of the voices, which, once accustomed to embroider and overlay a cantilena with elaborate ornaments, will soon lose the habit of singing sustained _legato_ pa.s.sages, and be unable to execute them. I must change my system then. I know how to sing; every one acknowledges that I possess that talent; my _fioriture_ will be in good taste; moreover, I shall discover at once the strong and weak points of my singers, and shall only write for them what they will be able to execute. I will not leave them a place for adding the least _apoggiatura_. The _fioriture_, the ornaments, must form an integral part of the air, and be all written in the score.'"

The sopranists might, at an earlier period, have been sent with advantage to Berlin, where, as Dr. Burney tells us, Frederick the Great, taking up his position in the pit of his opera-house immediately behind the conductor of the orchestra, on whose score he kept his eye, would never allow a singer to alter a single pa.s.sage in his part. The conductor's authority does not seem to have been sufficient, for, according to Burney, it was the king who, when the vocalist took liberties with the score, called upon him to keep to the notes as written by the composer. "The sopranists," says M. Castil-Blaze,[2]

"were at all times extremely insolent. They forced the greatest masters to conform to their caprices. They changed, transformed everything to suit their own vanity. They would insist on having an air or a duet placed in such a scene, written in such a style, with such an accompaniment. They were the kings, the tyrants of theatres, managers, and composers; that is why, in the most serious works of the greatest masters of the last century, there occur long cold pa.s.sages of vocalisation which had been exacted by the sopranists for the sake of exhibiting, in a striking manner, the agility and power of their throats. 'You will be kind enough to sing my music and not yours,' said the venerable and formidable Guglielmi, to a certain _virtuoso_, threatening him at the same time with his sword. In fact the vocal music, and the whole Italian lyrical system of the eighteenth century, was much more the work of the singers than of the composers."

After the production of _Aureliano in Palmira_, Rossini for about eighteen months was comparatively idle; for during this period he only produced two operas, _Il Turco in Italia_, and _Sigismondo_, of which the former has long ceased to-be played, while the latter was never at any time much performed. _Il Turco in Italia_ was a pendant to _L'Italiana in Algeri_, but it obtained no greater amount of public favour than continuations usually meet with. The hero of the work was supposed to have been wrecked on the Italian coast, and a like fate awaited the work itself. Rossini, according to his custom, saved what he could from the wreck, and the overture to the _Turk in Italy_ was, some years later, when _Otello_ was brought out, made to do duty as introduction to the story of the Moor of Venice.

As for _Sigismondo_, the story of its failure was graphically recorded by Rossini himself; who, writing to his mother the same night, enclosed her the outline of a small bottle or fiasco.

Rossini's increasing fame had, among other effects, that of making him visit all the princ.i.p.al cities in Italy. As in his youth he had moved about in his character of conductor from one little town in the Romagna to another, so now, when he had attained his full powers, he was called upon to travel from Bologna to Venice, from Venice to Milan, from Milan to Naples, from Naples to Rome. The two leading theatres of the Peninsula were then, as now, the San Carlo of Naples, and the Scala of Milan. The former received a subvention of 12,000_l_. from the King of Naples, the latter one of 8,000_l_. from the Emperor of Austria. These opera-houses, at that time the first in the world, received additional support from public gambling saloons adjoining them; and it was as a waiter at one of these auxiliary establishments that Barbaja, the most ill.u.s.trious impresario of his own or of any other time--Barbaja, who is mentioned in one of Balzac's novels, and introduced by Scribe in his libretto of _La Sirene_--commenced his career. Besides the cities already named, Turin, Florence, Bergamo, Genoa, Leghorn, Sienna, Ferrara, had all their opera-houses; some of which were supported by state grants, others by grants from the munic.i.p.ality. Occasionally, too, the necessary operatic subvention was furnished by some local magnate, who either made a liberal donation or const.i.tuted himself director of the theatre. The chief towns maintained several opera-houses. There were three at Venice--the Fenice, the San Benedetto, and the San Mose; and five at Rome--the Argentina, the Valle, the Apollo, the Alberto, and the Tordinona. Next to San Carlo and La Scala ranked the Fenice, and next to the Fenice the Court Theatre of Turin where, inasmuch as it formed part of the king's palace, it was considered 'disrespectful to appear in a cloak, disrespectful to laugh, and disrespectful to applaud till the queen had applauded.'

From 1815 to 1823 Rossini wrote princ.i.p.ally for Naples. But we have seen that he also worked for Bologna, Venice, and Milan; and he composed for the opera-houses of Rome, _Il Barbiere_, brought out at the Argentina Theatre, _La Cenerentola_, produced at the Valle Theatre, and _Matilda di Sabran_, performed for the first time at the Apollo Theatre. At the Fenice of Venice, Rossini's first opera in the serious style, _Tancredi_ (1813), and also his last in that style, _Semiramide_ (1823), were produced. For the Court Theatre of Turin Rossini wrote nothing.

Each of the great Italian opera-houses made a point of bringing out at least two new operas every year; and as the minor theatres were also frequently supplied with new works there was no lack of opportunity for composers anxious to place themselves before the public. The composers were not liberally paid by managers--40_l_. was considered a fair price for an opera; while from the publishers they received absolutely nothing for the right of engraving. It has already been mentioned that Rossini never troubled himself about the publication of his works, and that he profited by the fact of their not having been engraved to borrow from his failures pieces which, had the scores been before the public, he must have hesitated to re-adopt.

The operas of that day were in two acts; a division which, when the subject was an important one, scarcely conduced to the maintenance of dramatic interest. It was the custom of the time, however, to separate these two acts by a ballet; and thus kept apart they were not found so long, so interminable, as, performed one after the other without a break, our modern audiences would find them.

CHAPTER VI.

ROSSINI AT NAPLES.

Barbaja, the ex-waiter at the Ridotto of the San Carlo Theatre, was director of the San Carlo itself, and almost at the height of his glory, which Rossini was so much to increase, when _Tancredi_ was brought out at Venice and _L'Italiana in Algeri_ at Milan.

The year following was not for Rossini a very brilliant one; and neither _Aureliano in Palmira_, nor a cantata called _Egle e Irene_, written for the Princess Belgiojoso, nor _Il Turco in Italia_--all of the year 1814--did much to increase his reputation. But the success of _Tancredi_ and of _L'Italiana in Algeri_ was enough for Barbaja, who accordingly invited Rossini in 1814 to come to Naples and compose something for the San Carlo. On his arrival Rossini signed a contract with Barbaja for several years; binding himself to write two new operas annually, and to re-arrange the music of any old works the manager might wish to produce, either at his princ.i.p.al theatre or at the second Neapolitan opera-house, the Teatro del Fondo, of which also Barbaja was lessee.

Rossini's emoluments were to be 40_l._ (200 ducats) a month with a share in the profits of the gambling saloon. Such an engagement would not seem very magnificent to a second or third rate composer of our own time. But it was better than 40_l._ an opera, at which rate Rossini had hitherto been paid. Provided, moreover, that he supplied Barbaja with his two new operas every year he was at liberty to write for other managers.

In the present day it is not uncommon to find an operatic manager of enterprise directing two lyrical theatres in two different countries.

Mr. Lumley was manager at the same time of Her Majesty's Theatre in London and of the Theatre des Italiens in Paris. The late Mr. Gye entered into an arrangement (which however was not carried out) for directing the Imperial Opera House of St. Petersburg, while he was at the same time managing the Royal Italian Opera of London. Mr. Mapleson directs simultaneously Her Majesty's Theatre in London, and the Italian Opera which he has recently established at the so-called Academy of Music in New York. But these feats are nothing compared with the performances of Barbaja in the managerial line. It is much easier at the present time to get from London to New York or from London to St.

Petersburg, than it was in the days of Barbaja to move from Naples or even from Milan to Vienna; and a manager must have possessed great administrative ability who could direct three operatic enterprises in three different capitals at the same time.

Barbaja had in his employment all the great composers and all the best singers of his native Italy. So numerous was his company that he scarcely knew who did and who did not belong to it; and a story is told of his meeting one day a singer of some celebrity, and offering him an engagement--when, to his consternation and horror, the vocalist informed him that he had been drawing a regular salary from the theatre for the last three months. "Go to Donizetti," cried Barbaja, "and tell him to give you a part without a moment's delay."

On one occasion Donizetti, engaged at that time as accompanist at the Scala Theatre, had been requested to try the voice of a lady who had come to Barbaja with a letter of recommendation. Donizetti asked her to go through a few exercises in solfeggio; on which Barbaja, mistaking _do_, _re_, _mi_, &c., for the words of some outlandish tongue, exclaimed that it would be useless to sing in a foreign language, and that the postulant for an engagement had better carry her talents elsewhere. Another time, when a favourite vocalist complained that the piano, to whose accompaniment she had been rehearsing her part, was too high, Barbaja at once promised that before the next rehearsal he would have it lowered. The following morning the instrument was, as before, half a note above the requisite pitch. It was pointed out to Barbaja that the piano still wanted lowering; upon which he flew into a violent pa.s.sion and, summoning one of the stage carpenters, asked him why, when he had been told that the piano was too high, he had not shortened it by two or three inches instead of doing so only by one.

When his singers were genuinely successful he would take their part under all circ.u.mstances, and defend them against every attack. A popular prima donna told him one day, on arriving at the San Carlo Theatre, whither she had been borne in a sedan-chair, that one of the carriers had been very negligent in his duty, and had allowed her several times to be b.u.mped on the ground. Barbaja called the porters to his room and, giving each a box on the ears, exclaimed, "Which of you two brutes was in fault?"

For the sake of teasing Barbaja, a few of the subscribers to the Scala Theatre agreed one night to hiss Rubini in one of his best parts.

Barbaja, perfectly aghast, looked from his box, shook his fist at the seeming malcontents, and, alike indignant and enthusiastic, called out to the universally-admired tenor: "Bravo, Rubini, never mind those pigs!

It is I who pay you, and I am delighted with your singing."

In spite of his long-continued success, Barbaja ended, like so many managers, by failing; and but that he stood well with the Austrian Government, who gave him a contract for building barracks at Milan, he might have died in poverty. There is nothing, however, to show that his collapse was due to ignorance of music. It would be probably nearer the truth to attribute it to that loss of energy and tact by which advancing years are generally accompanied.

Among the _prime donne_ of the San Carlo Theatre Barbaja's favourite, in the fullest sense of the word, was Mademoiselle Colbran, who, after studying under Crescentini and Marinelli, made her first appearance with brilliant success at Paris in 1801. She was then but sixteen years of age, having been born at Madrid in 1785. When Rossini, then, first met her at Naples in 1815, she was already thirty. Her voice began to deteriorate soon afterwards, if we are to believe Stendhal--who, much as he had in common with the Abbe Carpani (including nearly the whole of the materials for his _Life of Rossini_), did not share that writer's admiration for a singer whom it was the fashion for royalists to laud, for republicans to decry. Stendhal, though he feared that opera, accustomed to subventions and to patronage of all kinds, could not flourish under republican inst.i.tutions, was nevertheless inclined towards republicanism.

Mademoiselle Colbran has been described as a great beauty in the queenly style--dark hair, brilliant eyes, imposing demeanour; and though Stendhal is under the impression that her voice began to fall off soon after Rossini's arrival at Naples, it seems certain that she must have preserved it in all its beauty until long afterwards. Rossini in any case wrote for her many of his best parts which, had they not been perfectly sung, could scarcely have met with the success they actually obtained. Among these parts may be mentioned in particular those of Desdemona, Elcia in _Mose in Egitto_, Elena in _La Donna del Lago_, Zelmira in the opera of that name, and Semiramide. The artistic merits of Mademoiselle Colbran were, however, as has already been mentioned, discussed habitually from a political point of view. Revolutionists hissed her because the king admired her, while royalists were ready under all circ.u.mstances to applaud her. The first part which Rossini composed for Mademoiselle Colbran, his future wife, was that of _Elisabetta_ in the opera of the same name; a work founded on Scott's novel of _Kenilworth_, and written appropriately enough by a certain Signor Smith. Smith's knowledge of the English language seems, in spite of his name, to have been imperfect; for, instead of taking his story direct from the original, he borrowed it in an adapted shape from a French melodrama.

The Neapolitans, up to this time, had not heard a note of Rossini's music. He had conquered the hearts of the Venetians and the Milanese.

But he was unknown at Naples; and not to have earned the applause of the Neapolitan public was not to have achieved an Italian reputation. The connoisseurs of Naples were by no means disposed to accept Rossini on the strength of the success he had achieved at Milan and Venice; while the professors of the famous Conservatorio, whose cla.s.ses he had not followed, were incredulous as to his being a composer of any sound musical learning, and were quite prepared to find him a much overrated man.

Rossini began by playing a trick on the Neapolitan audience; for in lieu of an original composition, he prefaced _Elisabetta_ with an overture which he had written the year before at Milan for _Aureliano in Palmira_--and which he was to offer to the Romans a year afterwards as overture to _Il Barbiere_. The Neapolitans were delighted with the overture; but it has been surmised that had they known it to have been originally composed for an opera which had failed at Milan, they would not, perhaps, have applauded it so much. The first piece in the opera was, as Stendhal tells us, a duet for Leicester and his young wife, in the minor, which, says Stendhal, was "very original." The finale to the first act, in which the leading motives of the overture were introduced, called forth enthusiastic applause. "All the emotions of serious opera with no tedious intervals between:" such, Stendhal (or Carpani) informs us, was the phrase in which the general verdict of the Neapolitan public was expressed. Mademoiselle Colbran's greatest success, however, was not achieved until the second act where, on the rising of the curtain, Elisabetta, attired in an historical costume--warranted authentic and ordered expressly from London by a fanatical English admirer--had a grand scena. The concerted finale to this act was another triumph both for the composer and for the singers.

_Elisabetta_ made but little mark beyond the frontiers of Italy. It contains much beautiful music; but the distribution of characters is not all that could be desired. Thus the parts of Norfolk, and of Leicester, are both given to tenors; though Norfolk as a wicked personage should have been represented by a baritone or ba.s.s. The ba.s.s singer, however, was still kept in the background; and at the San Carlo, though there were three admirable tenors--Davide, Nozzari, and Garcia,--there was no ba.s.s singer capable of taking a leading part. But for Rossini the ba.s.s singer might have remained indefinitely in obscurity. Gradually, however, he was brought to the front, not only in comic operas, where the Italians already tolerated him, but also in serious operas like _Otello_ and _Semiramide_, and in half-character works such as _Cenerentola_ and _La Gazza Ladra_. _Elisabetta_ was the first Italian opera in which recitative was accompanied by the stringed quartet in place of the double ba.s.s and piano previously employed.

Rossini had plenty of work to do at Naples, for, besides composing two new operas every year he had to transpose parts and to correct and complete operatic scores. But in addition to all this he found time to write two works for Rome, which were produced in 1816, during the carnival. One of these, _Torvaldo e Dorliska_, was brought out at the Teatro Valle where it met with so little success that the composer informed his mother of the fact by sending her the drawing, not this time of a full-sized _fiasco_, but of a small _fiasco_ or _fiaschetto_.

_Torvaldo e Dorliska_, in which the princ.i.p.al parts were written for Remorini and Galli, the two best ba.s.s singers of their time, and for Donzelli, the celebrated tenor, must in spite of its failure have possessed some merit. It was performed at Paris in 1825 for the first appearance of Mademoiselle Garcia, the future Malibran; and Rossini borrowed from it the motive of the admirable letter duet in _Otello_.

CHAPTER VII.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE BARBER.

_Torvaldo e Dorliska_ was followed, after but a short interval, by _Il Barbiere_, for which a contract was signed the very day, Dec. 26, on which _Torvaldo_ was brought out. The contract was in the following terms:--

"_n.o.bil Teatro di Torre Argentina_, Dec. 26th, 1815.

"By the present act, drawn up privately between the parties, the value of which is not thereby diminished, and according to the conditions consented to by them, it has been stipulated as follows:--

"Signor Puca Sforza Cesarini, manager of the above-named theatre, engages Signor Maestro Gioachino Rossini for the next carnival season of the year 1816; and the said Rossini promises and binds himself to compose and produce on the stage, the second comic drama to be represented in the said season at the theatre indicated, and to the libretto which shall be given to him by the said manager, whether this libretto be old or new. The Maestro Rossini engages himself to deliver his score in the middle of the month of January, and to adapt it to the voices of the singers; obliging himself, moreover, to make, if necessary, all the changes which may be required, as much for the good execution of the music as to suit the capabilities or exigencies of the singers.

"The Maestro Rossini also promises and binds himself to be at Rome and to fulfil his engagement not later than the end of December of the current year, and to deliver to the copyist the first act of his opera, quite complete, on the 20th January, 1816. The 20th January is mentioned in order that the partial and general rehearsals may be commenced at once, and that the piece may be brought out the day the director wishes, the date of the first representation being hereby fixed for about the 5th of February. And the Maestro Rossini shall also deliver to the copyist, at the time wished, his second act, so that there may be time to make arrangements, and to terminate the rehearsals soon enough to go before the public on the evening mentioned above; otherwise the Maestro Rossini will expose himself to all losses, because so it must be and not otherwise.

"The Maestro Rossini shall, moreover, be obliged to direct his opera according to the custom, and to a.s.sist personally at all the vocal and orchestral rehearsals as many times as it shall be necessary, either at the theatre or elsewhere, at the will of the director; he obliges himself also to a.s.sist at the three first representations, to be given consecutively, and to direct the execution at the piano; and that because so it must be, and not otherwise. In reward for his fatigues the director engages to pay to the Maestro Rossini the sum and quant.i.ty of 400 Roman scudi, as soon as the first three representations which he is to direct at the piano shall be terminated.

"It is also agreed that in case of the piece being forbidden, or the theatre closed by the act of the authority, or for any unforeseen reason, the habitual practice in such cases, at the theatres of Rome and of all other countries shall be observed.

"And to guarantee the complete execution of this agreement, it shall be signed by the manager, and also by the Maestro Gioachino Rossini; and, in addition, the said manager grants lodgings to the Maestro Rossini during the term of the agreement, in the same house that is a.s.signed to Signor Luigi Zamboni."

It is not certain, however, that Rossini received as much as 400 scudi (about 80_l._) for his _Barber_, for Rossini, consulted long afterwards as to the correctness of the figures given in the contract, said he was under the impression that he had only received 300 scudi, or about 60_l._[3] For the copyright of the music he received not a farthing. He did not even take the trouble to get it engraved; and two of the pieces, the overture (for which the overture to _Elisabetta_, previously known as the overture to _Aureliano in Palmira_, was afterwards subst.i.tuted) and the scene of the music lesson (which Rossini had treated as a trio for the music-master, his pupil, and the pupil's guardian), were somehow lost in the theatre.

What the manager, on his side, purchased from Rossini, was the right of representation for two years; after which the work might be played by any one, as it might from the first moment be engraved by any one, without payment of any kind. The ma.n.u.script could not naturally find its way into the publisher's hands without the composer's consent. But as a matter of custom composers received nothing from the publishers. In England, curiously enough, operatic composers have hitherto, with scarcely an exception, looked exclusively to the publishers for their profits, and have received nothing from the managers. The representation, according to the English view, serves to advertise the work, and to cause a demand at the music shops for the princ.i.p.al pieces.

In Italy the engraved music did not apparently find many purchasers. The public cared above all things to hear the music executed on the stage; and with a view to the gratification of this desire the directors found it necessary to provide them constantly with new works, which they moreover found it necessary to order and to pay for.

The manager of the Argentina Theatre had experienced some trouble in procuring a suitable subject for the libretto he wished Rossini to set.

The censorship was exercised with great severity, or rather with great scrupulosity, by the so-called Patriarch of Constantinople--_Patriarchus in partibus infidelium_ and if, instead of Beaumarchais' _Barber of Seville_, Cesarini had proposed the same author's _Marriage of Figaro_, it is tolerably certain that the Patriarch would have refused to license so revolutionary a drama. When the politically harmless _Barber of Seville_ was suggested, the censor at once approved. But it was now for Rossini to hesitate. To object, he had by the terms of his agreement no right; since he had undertaken to set any libretto that might be given to him, "new or old." The masters of the eighteenth century accepted readily for their operas themes which had been treated again and again, and even actual libretti to which, several times over, music had been composed. Almost every composer, for instance, had tried his hand on Dido Abandoned, or on the Descent of Orpheus into the Infernal Regions; and we have seen that the story of Dido and the story of Orpheus were both treated by Rossini in his early days. Rossini, however, had now ideas of his own on the subject of musical setting, on the subject of dramatic propriety, and probably also on that of the propriety of taking for his theme one that had already been dealt with very successfully by a composer of high repute. Doubtless, in spite of his agreement, he would have refused altogether to take the _Marriage of Figaro_ as subject of an opera, for we know by his recorded conversations with Ferdinand Hiller, that he regarded Mozart as the greatest of all dramatic composers. He felt, too, some delicacy, perhaps even some diffidence, in adopting the verses on which the ill.u.s.trious Paisiello had already worked. He explained to Cesarini how impossible it would be for him to attack the identical libretto which Paisiello had set; and it was arranged that Sterbini, the poet who had furnished Rossini with the "words" (as musicians say),[4] of _Torvaldo e Dorliska_, should perform a like service for him in connection with the _Barber_. Sterbini and Rossini understood one another as librettist and composer always should do; and they lived together in the same house--"the house a.s.signed to Luigi Zamboni," as the contract has it--until the work was finished. The admirable unity of the _Barber_, in which a person without previous information on the subject could scarcely say whether the words were written for the music or the music for the words, may doubtless in a great measure be accounted for by the fact that poet and musician were always together during the composition of the opera; ready mutually to suggest and to profit by suggestions. Nor was it a slight advantage that the two operatic partners were living together "in the house a.s.signed to Luigi Zamboni." Signor Luigi Zamboni was to take the part of Figaro; and we may be sure that "Largo al fattotum," set to music as soon as it was written, was handed to Zamboni as soon as it was composed.

Poet and composer had with them Beaumarchais' comedy of the _Barber of Seville_, and Paisiello's opera founded thereupon. Paisiello's opera was already known to Rossini, but he does not seem to have been quite familiar with Beaumarchais' comedy. Sterbini read it to him from beginning to end, and it was then decided what in Beaumarchais' comedy should be adopted--the princ.i.p.al dramatic scenes had of course to be taken--and what in Paisiello's libretto should be rejected. The queer incidental scenes for La Jeunesse who does nothing but sneeze, and L'Eveille who does nothing but yawn, were cut out; and the work was so divided as to give Rossini the opportunity of composing a far greater number of musical pieces than are to be found in Paisiello's work. In dialogue scenes where Paisiello had contented himself with making the interlocutory personages exchange long pa.s.sages of recitative, Rossini allowed the characters on the stage to declaim, but supported their declamation, not by a succession of chords, but by brilliant themes for the orchestra. No such thoroughly musical opera had before been composed. The series of melodies was almost continuous, and the characters on the stage only ceased to sing for tuneful strains to be executed by the instrumentalists. This transfer of the current of melody from the voices to the instruments was new in Italy; but brilliant examples of it are of course to be found in Mozart's operas which were performed for the first time in Italy, just before Rossini's _Barber of Seville_. Sterbini was a most accommodating poet. He was quite prepared to carry out the composer's ideas, and did not object to alter, curtail or add to his verses with a view to increasing the effectiveness of Rossini's music. After writing "Largo al fattotum," with the rapidity of an improvisator he handed the verses to Rossini, remarking--as Leopold II. remarked to Mozart with regard to the number of notes contained in the _Seraglio_--that there were "too many." "Precisely the right number," was virtually Rossini's reply; and inspired by their vivacity and their rhythmical flow, he, in fact, set them all. Something of the light-hearted elastic character of the constantly changing air must doubtless be attributed, not only to the verve with which Sterbini had written the words, but also to the impulsiveness and volubility with which Rossini knew beforehand that Zamboni would sing them.

Rossini worked so quickly that at times he found himself ahead of his poet--though, as regards the mere putting down on paper, the writing of verses is but trifling labour compared to that of composing music. Thus, without waiting for verses, he found a melody or devised a form for the next musical piece in the order agreed upon, and thereupon asked the obliging Sterbini to furnish him with suitable "words." Besides a leading singer in the next room, the poet and composer had by their side a number of copyists, to whom Rossini threw the sheets of music as he finished them. For thirteen days the joint authors had scarcely time to eat, and M. Azevedo a.s.serts that they slept but little, and then only on a sofa, when it so happened that they could no longer keep their eyes open. For thirteen days Rossini did not shave; and when some one observed how strange it was that the _Barber_ should have caused him to let his beard grow, he replied, that if he had shaved he should have gone out, and that if he had gone out he should not have returned as soon as he ought to have done. It seems incredible that in thirteen days the whole of the _Barber_ should have been composed in score; but it is certain that the contract binding Rossini to compose it was only signed on the 26th December, and that he directed the first, second, and third performances of _Torvaldo e Dorliska_ on the 27th, 28th and 29th. Some days, too, were lost in discussing various subjects for the proposed opera with the Roman censorship; and finally, when the _Barber of Seville_ had been decided upon, Rossini had to read the comedy and to compare it with the libretto of Paisiello's opera, and to arrange with his own librettist a new distribution of scenes. The date of the first representation had been fixed for February 5th, and it was customary at the Italian theatres to allow fifteen days for rehearsals. He must then have finished the work in less than a month--between December 29th and January 24th; and one month is the time given by M. Castil-Blaze in his _Histoire du Theatre Italien_. Stendhal, however, says (after Carpani) that the _Barber_ was composed in thirteen days; and this statement is repeated--not, it must be presumed without verification--by M. Azevedo.

On one point connected with the production of the new _Barber_, Stendhal and Azevedo are quite at variance. According to the former, Rossini, as a matter of politeness, went through the unnecessary form of asking Paisiello's leave to reset the work, and received from him full permission to do so; the ancient master nourishing the hope that in recomposing a work which had already, as he believed, received its permanent musical form, the young composer would bring himself to grief.