XVIII
ITALIAN MUSIC
I did not hurry back to Rome, but spent some time in Genoa, where I heard Paër’s Agnese, and where I could find no trace of bust or statue or tradition of Columbus. I also tried in vain to hear something of Paganini, who at that moment was electrifying Paris, while I—with my usual luck—was kicking my heels in his native town.
Thence I went back to Florence, which of all Italian cities appeals to me most. There the spleen that devours me in Rome and Naples takes flight. With barely a handful of francs—since my little excursion had made a big hole in my income, knowing no one and being consequently entirely free—I passed delicious days visiting odd corners, dreaming of Dante and Michael Angelo, and reading Shakespeare in the shady woods on the Arno bank.
Knowing, however, that the Tuscan capital could not compare with Naples and Milan in opera, I took no thought for music until I heard people at table d’hôte talking of Bellini’s Montecchi, which was soon to be given. Not only did they praise the music, but also the libretto. Italians, as a rule, care so little for the words of an opera that I was surprised, and thought:
“At last I shall hear an opera worthy of that glorious play. What a subject it is! Simply made for music. The ball at Capulet’s house, where young Romeo first sees his dazzling love; the street fight whereat Tybalt presides—patron of anger and revenge; that indescribable night scene at Juliet’s balcony; the witty sallies of Mercutio; the prattle of the nurse; the solemnity of the friar trying to soothe these conflicting elements; the awful catastrophe and the reconciliation of the rival families above the bodies of the ill-fated lovers.”
I hurried to the Pergola Theatre.
What a disappointment! No ball, no Mercutio, no babbling nurse, no balcony scene, no Shakespeare!
And Romeo sung by a small thin woman, Juliet by a tall stout one. Why—in the name of all things musical—why?
Do they think that women’s voices sound best together? Then why not do away with men’s entirely?
Why should Juliet’s lover be deprived of all virility? Could a woman or a child have slain Tybalt, having burst the gates of Juliet’s tomb and stretched County Paris a corpse at his feet?