I was dreadfully nervous to sing before him, but when I had finished he stretched out both hands to me and said:
"Merci! C'est comme cela que ça doit être chanté. Votre voix est délicieuse, le timbre que j'aime—mezzo-soprano, avec ces notes hautes et claires."
Auber came up flushed with delight at my success, and said to Rossini,
"Did I say too much about Madame Moulton's voice?"
"Not enough," replied Rossini. "She has more than voice; she has intelligence and le feu sacré—un rossignol doublé de velours; and more than all, she sings my music as I have written it. Every one likes to add a little of their own. I said to Patti the other day: 'a chère_ Adelina, when you sing the "Barbiere" do not make it too 'strakoschonée' [Strakosch is Patti's brother-in-law, and makes all her cadenzas for her]. If I had wanted to make all those little things, don't you think that I could have made them myself?'"
Auber asked me, "Do you know what Rossini said about me?"
"No," I answered, "I know what he ought to have said. What did he say?"
"He said," Auber replied, with a merry twinkle in his eye, 'Auber est un grand musicien qui fait de la petite musique.'"
"That was pure envy," I said. "I should like to know what you said about
Rossini."
"Well, I said," and he hesitated before continuing, "I said that Rossini est un très grand musicien et fait de la belle musique, mais une exécrable cuisine."
Rossini adores Alboni, but deplores her want of confidence in herself. She has such stage frights that she swears that she will have to leave the stage. He has written "La Messe solennelle" for her voice. The "Agnus Dei" is perfectly wonderful. She sang it after I had sung. If she had been first, I never should have had the courage to open my mouth.