PERGOLESE.
Reproduction of a rare print from the British Museum.
Disappointed and almost disheartened, Pergolese decided to give up the stage, and for two years he devoted himself to instrumental music, composing about thirty trios for strings, chiefly for the Prince of Stigliano and other friends. But his disposition was not to be longer controlled, and in 1731 he produced "La Serva Padrona," a light opera which made an instant success and has attained a justly high reputation all the world over. Being in the vein again, he followed this with "Il Maestro di Musica," "Il Geloso Schernito," "Lo Frate Innamorato," "Livietta e Tracolo," "Il Prigioniero Superbo" and "La Contadina Astuta." These were mostly composed upon Neapolitan texts, were full of gaiety and brightness, and had temporary success in the San Bartolomeo, the Nuovo and other theatres; but their local dialect and the fact that they belonged to the less important classes of opera, prevented their obtaining any wide currency.
In May, 1734, Pergolese was called to Rome to become the chapel-master of the church of Santa Maria di Loreto. Regarding this nomination as a promotion in his art as well as a recognition of his ability, he set himself seriously to work upon something which should at once confirm any good opinion of his powers and demonstrate his gratitude. Putting aside the trivial Neapolitan libretti, he turned to Metastasio and drew from his poetry the text for his "Olimpiade," a grand opera which was brought out in 1735 at the Tordinona. At this time the composer Duni—of whom little more than the name now remains—was a composer much in favor, and was about to bring out a new work of his own, "Nero." He had no small fear of what Pergolese might do and withheld his score until he could make acquaintance with that of the new comer. His opinion, written directly to Pergolese, with many expressions of admiration, included these words: "There are here too many details beyond the reach of the average public; they will pass unperceived, and you will not succeed. My opera will not have the value of yours; but, being more simple, it will be more fortunate." Duni was right; the "Olimpiade" was a failure; some parts of it were hissed,—although it was admitted that two airs and one duet were "deeply expressive,"—and one chronicler records that some irate auditor went so far as to throw an orange at the head of the composer as he sat at the harpsichord in the orchestra. The generous spirited Duni afterwards said that he was "in a fury" against the Roman public for its behavior toward his contemporary.
This defeat was a decisive one, and Pergolese turned back to his duties as a composer and director of religious music. The ensuing period was signalized by his writing, among other things, of a mass, a Dixit and a Laudate, all upon a commission from the Duke of Maddaloni, who desired them for the annual festival at the church of San Lorenzo in Lucina, at Rome, where they were sung with great éclat.
Reproduction of a fine medal by T. Mercandetti, struck in 1806 (after the death of Pergolese), in commemoration of his "Stabat Mater."
The end of Pergolese's career was now approaching. For about four years he had had frequent hemorrhages and had shown other signs of pulmonary consumption. Beside having within it the germs of this fatal disease, his constitution had been sapped and weakened by dissipation, and what one of his biographers calls squarely his "passion effrénée pour les femmes." To save what strength and life he still had, it was necessary that he should leave Rome for a less trying climate, and he determined to return to the softer and more salubrious air of Naples. One writer says that he betook himself to a property belonging to the Duke of Maddaloni, at Torre del Greco, just at the foot of Mount Vesuvius, where the sunny exposure and the protection of the volcano from the winds of the north are thought to be extremely propitious to such invalids as he. But this stay can have been only temporary, because his final residence is known to have been in a villa at Pozzuoli, which is quite on the other side of Naples and is to be accounted a no less salubrious place of sojourn, having been sought for sanitary reasons by the old Romans.