A Book of Operas | Page 7

him a
line by his hands. Thus he secures a letter from her, but learns that the
artful minx had written it before he entered. Her ink-stained fingers, the
disappearance of a sheet of paper from his writing desk, and the
condition of his quill pen convince Bartolo on his return that he is
being deceived, and he resolves that henceforth his ward shall be more
closely confined than ever. And so he informs her, while she mimics
his angry gestures behind his back. In another moment there is a
boisterous knocking and shouting at the door, and in comes Almaviva,
disguised as a cavalry soldier most obviously in his cups. He manages
to make himself known to Rosina, and exchanges letters with her under
the very nose of her jailer, affects a fury toward Dr. Bartolo when the
latter claims exemption from the billet, and escapes arrest only by
secretly making himself known to the officer commanding the soldiers
who had been drawn into the house by the disturbance. The sudden and
inexplicable change of conduct on the part of the soldiers petrifies
Bartolo; he is literally "astonied," and Figaro makes him the victim of
several laughable pranks before he recovers his wits.
Dr. Bartolo's suspicions have been aroused about the soldier,
concerning whose identity he makes vain inquiries, but he does not
hesitate to admit to his library a seeming music-master who announces
himself as Don Alonzo, come to act as substitute for Don Basilio, who,
he says, is ill. Of course it is Almaviva. Soon the ill-natured guardian
grows impatient of his garrulity, and Almaviva, to allay his suspicions
and gain a sight of his inamorata, gives him a letter written by Rosina
to Lindoro, which he says he had found in the Count's lodgings. If he
can but see the lady, he hopes by means of the letter to convince her of
Lindoro's faithlessness. This device, though it disturbs its inventor, is
successful, and Bartolo brings in his ward to receive her music lesson.
Here, according to tradition, there stood in the original score a trio
which was lost with the overture. Very welcome has this loss appeared
to the Rosinas of a later day, for it has enabled them to introduce into
the "lesson scene" music of their own choice, and, of course, such as
showed their voices and art to the best advantage. Very amusing have

been the anachronisms which have resulted from these illustrations of
artistic vanity, and diverting are the glimpses which they give of the
tastes and sensibilities of great prime donne. Grisi and Alboni,
stimulated by the example of Catalani (though not in this opera), could
think of nothing nobler than to display their skill by singing Rode's Air
and Variations, a violin piece. This grew hackneyed, but, nevertheless,
survived till a comparatively late day. Bosio, feeling that variations
were necessary, threw Rode's over in favor of those on "Gia della
mente involarmi"--a polka tune from Alary's "A Tre Nozze." Then
Mme. Gassier ushered in the day of the vocal waltz--Venzano's, of
amiable memory. Her followers have not yet died out, though Patti
substituted Arditi's "Il Bacio" for Venzano's; Mme. Sembrich, Strauss's
"Voce di Primavera," and Mme. Melba, Arditi's "Se saran rose." Mme.
Viardot, with a finer sense of the fitness of things, but either forgetful
or not apprehensive of the fate which befell her father at the first
performance of the opera in Rome, introduced a Spanish song. Mme.
Patti always kept a ready repertory for the scene, with a song in the
vernacular of the people for whom she was singing to bring the
enthusiasm to a climax and a finish: "Home, Sweet Home" in New
York and London, "Solovei" in St. Petersburg. Usually she began with
the bolero from "Les Vêpres Siciliennes," or the shadow dance from
"Dinorah." Mme. Seinbrich, living in a period when the style of song of
which she and Mme. Melba are still the brightest exemplars, is not as
familiar as it used to be when they were children, also found it
necessary to have an extended list of pieces ready at hand to satisfy the
rapacious public. She was wont at first to sing Proch's Air and
Variations, but that always led to a demand for more, and whether she
supplemented it with "Ah! non giunge," from "La Sonnambula," the
bolero from "The Sicilian Vespers," "O luce di quest anima," from
"Linda," or the vocalized waltz by Strauss, the applause always was
riotous, and so remained until she sat down to the pianoforte and sang
Chopin's "Maiden's Wish," in Polish, to her own accompaniment. As
for Mme. Melba, not to be set in the shade simply because Mme.
Sembrich is almost as good a pianist as she is a singer, she supplements
Arditi's