CHAPTER II.

LA PIETRA DEL PARAGONE.

Rossini had already written two operas in 1812, and he was destined in

this fertile year to produce three more: two at Venice, _La Scala di

Seta_ and _L'Occasione fa il Ladro_; and one at Milan, _La Pietra del

Paragone_.

_La Pietra del Paragone_ was Rossini's next great success after

_L'Inganno Felice_. The leading parts were assigned to Galli, afterwards

one of the most famous bass-singers of his time, and to Madame

Marcolini, who had played the principal character in _L'Equivoco

Stravagante_, and who had particularly distinguished herself in that

work by her singing of the final rondo before mentioned.

In _La Pietra del Paragone_ Madame Marcolini was furnished with a final

rondo of the pattern already approved, and in this, as in the earlier

one, she gained a most brilliant success.

The libretto of _La Pietra del Paragone_ is founded on an idea at least

as old as that of _Timon of Athens_. Count Asdrubal, surrounded by

friends and beloved by a charming young lady, is rash enough to wish to

know whether the friendship and the love he seems to have inspired are

due to himself and his own personal qualities, or to the riches he is

known to possess. To determine the point he causes a bill of exchange

for a large sum to be presented at his house. He himself appears in

disguise to claim the money; and, in accordance with instructions given

beforehand, the count's steward recognises the signature and honours the

draft. The sum for which the bill has been made out is so large that to

pay it the count's exchequer is absolutely drained. Some few of the

friends stand the test well enough, but others, as might have been

expected, prove insincere. As for the young lady, the "touchstone" has

the effect of bringing out her character in the brightest colours. Timid

by nature, she had hitherto refrained from expressing, except in the

most reserved manner, the love she really entertains for Count Asdrubal.

After his apparent ruin, however, the advances are all from her side;

and she finds herself obliged to resort to all kinds of devices in order

to compel him to a formal declaration. She even feels called upon to

appear--though whether for logical or merely for picturesque reasons can

scarcely at this distant date be decided--in a Hussar uniform; and in

this striking garb Madame Marcolini sang the celebrated final rondo,

saluting the public with her sabre in acknowledgment of their applause,

and repeating the salutes again and again as the applause was renewed.

_La Pietra del Paragone_ is quite unknown to the opera-goers of the

present day. It belongs to the year 1812, and probably no one now living

ever heard it. Many, however, have heard portions of it; for _La Pietra

del Paragone_ not having proved thoroughly successful as a whole, the

composer extracted the best pieces from it and introduced them into _La

Cenerentola_, which, five years later, was represented for the first

time at Rome. The air "Miei rampolli," the duet "Un soave no so che,"

the drinking chorus, and the baron's burlesque proclamation, were all

borrowed or rather taken once and for ever from the score of _La Pietra

del Paragone_. Some other pieces, too, from the same work were nearly

fifty years later heard at least once in an opera attributed to Rossini

brought out at Paris in the year 1859. It has been said that among

Rossini's operas of the year 1812 were two written for the San Mose of

Venice. The second of these, _L'Occasione fa il Ladro_, made its

appearance substantially at Naples in conjunction with the pieces just

spoken of, extracted from _La Pietra del Paragone_. An Italian

poetaster, Signor Berettoni, gave to his new arrangement of _L'Occasione

fa il Ladro_ (which, by the way, he had enriched with selections not

only from _La Pietra del Paragone_, but also from _Aureliano in

Palmira_) the title of _Un Curioso Accidente_.

Rossini, however, though he did not mind borrowing from himself, did not

choose to be borrowed from without permission, as without dexterity, by

other persons; and finding that a _pasticcio_ made up of pieces taken

more or less at random from the works of his youth was to be brought out

as a new and original work, he addressed to the manager of the Theatre

des Italiens, M. Calzado, the following letter on the subject:--

"_November 11th, 1859._.

"SIR,--I am told that the bills of your theatre announce a new

opera by me under this title _Un Curioso Accidente_.

"I do not know whether I have the right to prevent the

representation of a production in two acts (more or less) made up

of old pieces of mine; I have never occupied myself with questions

of this kind in regard to my works (not one of which, by the way,

is named _Un Curioso Accidente_). In any case I have not objected

to, and I do not object to, the representation of _Un Curioso

Accidente_. But I cannot allow the public invited to your theatre,

and your subscribers to think either that it is a _new_ opera by me

or that I took any part in arranging it.

"I must beg of you then to remove from your bills the word _new_,

together with my name as author, and to substitute instead the

following:--'Opera, consisting of pieces by M. Rossini, arranged by

M. Berettoni.'

"I request that this alteration may appear in the bills of

to-morrow, in default of which I shall be obliged to ask from

justice what I now ask from your good faith.

"Accept my sincere compliments,

(Signed) "GIOACHINO ROSSINI."

On receiving this letter the manager withdrew the well-named _Curioso

Accidente_, in connection with which no accident was more curious than

that of its production. It had already been played once; and at this

single representation much success had been obtained by a trio in the

buffo style for men's voices borrowed from _La Pietra del Paragone_, and

a duet for soprano and contralto from _Aureliano in Palmira_.

It is not so easy as it may at first appear to decide which deserves to

be considered the first of Rossini's operas. The opera or operetta of

_La Cambiale di Matrimonio_ (1810), was the first produced on the stage;

and _L'Inganno Felice_ (1812), was the first which made a marked

impression, and which, played throughout Italy, at Paris, and at Vienna,

gained for its author something like a European reputation. But the

first opera that Rossini ever composed was _Demetrio e Polibio_, which,

written in the spring of 1809 when he was just seventeen years old, was

produced at Rome--though not until it had undergone a process of

retouching--in 1812.

An Italian officer, whom Stendhal met at Como one night when _Demetrio e

Polibio_ was to be represented--or perhaps it was the Abbe Carpani who

met him; in any case the story is to be found in Stendhal's Life of

Rossini--gave this curious account of the Mombelli family, all of whom

were connected in one way or another with the performance of Rossini's

earliest opera.

"The Mombellis Company," he said, "consists of a single family. Of the

two daughters, one, who is always dressed as a man, takes the part of

the musico (or sopranist); that is Marianna. The other one, Esther, who

has a voice of greater extent though less even, less perfectly sweet, is

the prima donna. In _Demetrio e Polibio_ the old Mombelli, who was once

a celebrated tenor takes the part of the King. That of the chief of the

conspirators will be filled by a person called Olivieri, who has long

been attached to Madame Mombelli, the mother, and who, to be useful to

the family, takes utility parts on the stage and acts in the house as

cook and major domo. Without being pretty, the Mombellis have pleasing

faces. But they are ferociously virtuous, and it is supposed that the

father, who is an ambitious man, wishes to get them married."

Madame Mombelli, moreover, had written the libretto, while the old

Mombelli--once a "celebrated tenor" and still "so ambitious" as to wish

to see his daughters legitimately married--had from among his plentiful

reminiscences given Rossini ideas for melodies. Not only did the

company, in the words of Stendhal's officer, consist of a single family;

this family included, moreover, among its members, the composer himself,

who was somehow related to the Mombellis.

From 1812 to 1813 was for Rossini a great step in advance; for during

this latter year were produced _Tancredi_ and _L'Italiana in Algeri_,

works destined within a very short time to find their way all over

Europe. But before producing _Tancredi_, Rossini began the year by

bringing out a little operetta entitled _Il Figlio per Azzardo_.

Rossini caused in his time a great deal of trouble to managers; and if

those with whom he had to deal were for the most part bald, that, he

said, was to be accounted for by his having driven them repeatedly to

tear their hair. Some of the directors suffered from his apparent

laziness, which at most could be called dilatoriness; for that Rossini

was a composer of extraordinary activity is shown by the fact that by

the time he was thirty-seven he had written thirty-seven operas; while,

during the period of his greatest fertility, he frequently produced as

many as four operas in one year. More than once, too, he completed an

opera within a fortnight; but this fortnight was usually the last and

never the first of the space of time assigned to him for the composition

of a given work. Sometimes, however, he was annoyed and worried by

managers without sufficient cause; and in these cases he knew how to

retaliate. The manager of the San Mose theatre, that Marquis Cavalli who

also directed the theatre of Sinigaglia, and who, as already mentioned,

had given Rossini his first commission, thought that having begun by

writing for the San Mose, the young composer ought not to work for any

other theatre at Venice. He had engaged, however, to write an opera for

the Fenice, where _Tancredi_ was destined to be brought out; and the

Marquis was so annoyed at this that he treated Rossini on more than one

occasion with absolute incivility. He had supplied him, moreover, with a

libretto so monstrously absurd that it was impossible to treat it

seriously, or even in the spirit of mere comedy. Rossini, however, had

to choose between setting this nonsense to music or paying a fine; and

he preferred the former alternative. The task he now set himself was to

compose to his ridiculous libretto music more ridiculous even than the

words. Tenor music was given to the bass, who, to execute it, had to

shout at the top of his voice. The soprano, on the other hand, had been

furnished with a contralto part, which made demands only upon the lowest

notes of her voice. A singer of notorious-incompetence was provided with

a most difficult air, accompanied _pianissimo_, so that his faults might

at least not be concealed. Another singer, whose burlesque appearance

never failed to throw the house into convulsions, had to sing a

sentimental melody of the most lackadaisical kind. The orchestration was

quite as remarkable as the writing for the voices. One of Rossini's

great merits consists in his having introduced new instruments into the

operatic orchestra of his time; and in scoring _Il Figlio per Azzardo_,

he wrote parts for instruments of percussion never before and probably

never afterwards employed. These were the tin-shades of the candles with

which the desks of the players were furnished, and which, in one

movement, had to be struck at the beginning of each bar. For a time the

public smiled at Rossini's pleasantry, until at last it occurred to some

one that the composer was taking liberties with his audience. Then hoots

and hisses were heard from every part of the theatre, and the end of

Rossini's practical joke was that the practical joker had to rush from

his post at the head of the orchestra and seek safety in flight.

The Great Musicians: Rossini and His School · 第 2 / 13 章