An amusing incident delayed the production of the work, for Mlle. Sophie Cruvelli, for some unexplained reason, ran away and could not be found. When at last she was traced, it was to the Strasburg theatre, where the runaway was captured and quietly escorted to Paris. A warm reception awaited her; but it so happened that her first words on her rentrée were those of Valentine in Les Huguenots: "Tell me the result of your daring journey,"—an à propos which fairly defeated those who were going to hiss and hoot! They laughed heartily and cheered instead, reflecting over some fresh announcement of Les Vêpres Siciliennes. At length this came. Month after month had been spent in rehearsals, but at last all was ready. The reception given to the opera was of the most enthusiastic description, Mlle. Cruvelli receiving a perfect storm of applause for her efforts in the representation. Other artists in the cast were Mlle. Saunier and Messieurs Gueymard, Boulo, Bonnehée, Obin, and Coulon.

I Vespri Siciliani—to give the opera its Italian title—pleased the French immensely; but the Italians cared not greatly for its music, even when adapted to a new poem entitled Giovanna di Guzman.

In the year 1859 it was brought to London, and presented at Drury Lane Theatre (27th July), being mounted with great care and creditable splendour. The principal artists, who performed with great effect, were Madame Titiens and Signori Mongini and Fagotti, and at the time the opera was adjudged by the dilettanti one of the happiest efforts of its composer; although, as events have proved, the later English judgment has not set a particularly high value upon this work.

Writing for the Parisian stage, Verdi appears to have deemed it necessary to copy the grandiose style of the Grand Opéra, to which he sacrificed that vein of sweet, natural, Italian melody which had won him his success. "Several morceaux," wrote a critic of this London introduction, "were much applauded, but the performance went off heavily as a whole; and we hardly think that those who sat it out will feel much tempted to do so again. Five acts of a ponderous French tragédie lyrique are generally too much for English patience, unless sweeping measures of curtailment are resorted to; and this might be very advantageously done in the case of the Vêpres Siciliennes."[54]

One who was present thus writes of the circumstances: "But one novelty was given—Les Vêpres Siciliennes—which I had heard four years previously at the Grand Opéra, Paris, with Mlle. Cruvelli as the heroine. It failed here, as elsewhere, to maintain the reputation which Verdi had won by his Trovatore, Traviata, and one or two other works of minor importance. In the absence of Mlle. Cruvelli, who had retired from the stage, Mlle. Titiens undertook the part of the heroine; but although she laboured conscientiously to make something of it, it completely beat her, and she has been wise enough never again to waste her powers upon crudities that betray nothing else than leanness and want of resource by reason of their noise and eccentricity."[55]

The Times was good enough to allow next day that the work was produced "with incontestable success." In criticising the music subsequently, The Times' critic said: "Though the piece of itself, in spite of its melodramatic and spectacular character, appears somewhat heavy and spun out, it is enriched with many of Signor Verdi's happiest thoughts.... In short, it may reasonably be concluded that the Vespri Siciliani will maintain its place amongst the best operas of its composer."[56]

Verdi, perhaps, made obeisance for such appreciation from The Times' critic, who from the first, it should in fairness be remarked, had spoken less disparagingly of Verdi's prospects as a musician than had the Athenæum critic. The prediction, however, that I Vespri Siciliani would maintain its place among the best operas of its composer, was singularly unfortunate as a piece of critical forecast, inasmuch as it has been sadly falsified. The reasons for this need not be discussed; suffice it to say that thousands who know and delight in the Trovatore, La Traviata, and Rigoletto music, have not heard the Sicilian Vespers. Thousands more could not even distinguish the opera by its name.

The score that followed Les Vêpres Siciliennes was Simon Boccanegra. The management of the Fenice theatre sought another work from the first Italian master of the day, and Simon Boccanegra was the consequence. Once more the libretto was by Piave. This opera, produced on the 12th March 1857, proved a failure, a result that was attributed partly to the unsuitability of the leading singers, and partly to the feeble book. Later on, an attempt was made by Boito and Verdi to recast it; but neither Milan nor Paris would lend ears to the opera. Yet the following year it was given at Naples with enthusiasm. "Its first performance took place," wrote a critic, "on the 28th November 1858, and was crowned with the most complete success. The audience was densely crowded, and so brimful of enthusiasm that the maestro was called for seventeen times in course of the evening."[57] One of its best vocal numbers is the scena, "Sento avvampar nell'anima," with the aria, "Cielo pietoso, rendila," a thoroughly characteristic Verdinian song, and one which might well be found in every tenor vocalist's répertoire.

Let it not be thought that Verdi was waning. Only a few months elapsed, and the maestro was ready with a work, Un Ballo in Maschera, which was to prove another triumph.