Mrs. Polk (widow of the former President Polk) and her two daughters are
very much liked here. I call Miss Polk _la maîtresse demoiselle_, because
she rules every one with a high and masterful hand.
They had some wonderful tableaux recently at their palace (Salviati),
which were most beautiful and artistically arranged by different artists.
They had turned a long gallery which had once served as a ballroom into
the theater. I was asked to sing in a tableau representing a Bohemian
hall, where, as a background, Bohemian peasants in brilliant costumes sat
and stood about. I was also dressed in a Bohemian dress, and leaned
against a pillar and held a tambourine in my hand. Tosti played the
accompaniment of "Ma Mère était Bohémienne," which was most appropriate to
the occasion.
The Princess Margherita sat in the front row, and a more sympathetic and
lovelier face could never have inspired a singer. She insisted upon my
repeating my song, which rather bored the other performers, as they had to
stand quiet while the song was going on. Tosti made the accompaniment
wonderfully well, considering that I had only played it once for him.
After the tableaux, and when the Princess had retired to a little salon
placed at her disposal, she sent word to ask me to come to her, as she
wished to speak with me. I was overjoyed to see her again, as the short
interview at the Villino could hardly be called an interview. The
Princess said; "I have heard a great deal about your singing; but I did
not believe any amateur could sing as you do. Your phrasing and expression
are quite perfect!" She finished by asking me to come to the Quirinal to
see her, "and perhaps have a little music"; and added, "The Marquis
Villamarina sings beautifully, and you shall hear him." The Princess is so
lovely, no words can describe her charm and the sweet expression of her
face. Her smile is a dream.
I had intended leaving Rome the very day she fixed for my going to her,
but of course I postponed my departure and I went, and had a most
delightful afternoon. It was the first time that I had seen the Quirinal
and I was very much interested. One of the numerous _laquais_ who were
standing about in the antechamber when I arrived preceded me into a
salon where I found the Marquise Villamarina (first lady-in-waiting of the
Princess). She came toward me, saying that the Princess was looking
forward with pleasure to seeing me, and added that she hoped that I had
thought to bring some music. I followed her through several very spacious
salons until we reached a salon which evidently was the music-room, as
there were two grand pianos and a quantity of music-books placed on
shelves. Here I found the Princess waiting for me, and she received me
with much cordiality.
The Marquis Villamarina has a most enchanting voice, liquid and velvety,
the kind that one only hears in Italy. Signor Tosti (the composer) was
already at the piano and accompanied the Marquis in "Ti rapirei, mio ben,"
a song he composed and dedicated to him. The Princess sang a very charming
old Italian song. She has a mezzo-soprano voice and sings with great taste
and sweetness. She, the Marquis, and I sang a trio of Gordigiani; then the
Princess asked me to sing the "Ma Mère était Bohémienne," which i had sung
at the tableaux. I also sang "Beware!" which she had never heard and which
she was perfectly delighted with, and I promised to send her the music. It
was a great pleasure to sing in this intimate and _sans façon_ way, with
the most sympathetic and charming of Princesses. Chocolate, tea, and
little cakes were served, which I supposed was the signal for departure.
The Princess, on bidding me good-by, gave me her hand and said, "I hope to
see you soon again."
"Alas!" I replied, "I am leaving Rome to-morrow," and as I stooped down to
kiss her hand she drew me to her and said, "I am sorry that you are going,
I hoped that you were staying longer," and kissed me on both cheeks.