Donizetti sprang to the ground with his prey--the full score of the _Barber of Seville_--in his clutches. He was about to devour it, when a hand touched him on the shoulder: he turned round, and before him stood the austere Sigismondi.

The old librarian spoke to Gaetan as to a son; appealed to his sense of propriety, his honour, his conscience; and asked him, almost with tears in his eyes, how he could so far forget himself as to come secretly into the library to read forbidden books--and Rossini's above all? He pointed out the terrible effects of the course upon which the youthful Donizetti had so nearly entered; reminded him that one bra.s.s instrument led to another; and that when once he had given himself up to violent orchestration, there was no saying where he would stop.

[Sidenote: DONIZETTI AND ROSSINI.]

Donizetti could not or would not argue with the venerable and determined Sigismondi. At least, he did not oppose him; but he inquired whether, as a lesson in cacophony, it was not worth while just to look at Rossini's notorious productions. He reminded his stern adviser, that he had already studied good models under Mayer, Pilotti, and Mattei, and that it was natural he should now wish to complete his musical education, by learning what to avoid. He quoted the well known case of the Spartans and their Helots; inquired, with some emotion, whether the frightful example of Rossini was not sufficient to deter any well meaning composer, with a little strength of character, from following in his unholy path; and finally declared, with undisguised indignation, that Rossini ought to be made the object of a serious study, so that once for all his musical iniquities might be exposed and his name rendered a bye-word among the lovers and cultivators of pure, unsophisticated art!

"Come to my arms, Gaetano," cried Sigismondi, much moved. "I can refuse nothing to a young man like you, now that I know your excellent intentions. A musician, who is imbued with the true principles of his art, may look upon the picture of Rossini's depravity not only without danger, but with positive advantage. Some it might weaken and destroy;--_you_ it can only fortify and uphold. Let us open these monstrous scores; their buffooneries may amuse us for an hour.

"_Il Barbiere di Siviglia!_ I have not much to say about that,"

commenced Sigismondi. "It is a trifle; besides, full justice was done to it at Rome. The notion of re-setting one of the master-pieces of the great Paisiello,--what audacity! No wonder it was hissed!"

"Under Paisiello's direction," suggested Donizetti.

"All a calumny, my young friend; pure calumny, I can a.s.sure you. There are so many Don Basilios in the musical world! Rossini's music was hissed because it was bad and because it recalled to the public Paisiello's, which was good." "But I have heard," rejoined Donizetti, "that at the second representation there was a great deal of applause, and that the enthusiasm of the audience at last reached such a point, that they honoured Rossini with a torch-light procession and conducted him home in triumph."

"An invention of the newspapers," replied Sigismondi; "I believe there was a certain clique present prepared to support the composer through everything, but the public had already expressed its opinion. Never mind this musical burlesque, and let us take a glance at one of Rossini's serious operas."

Donizetti wished for nothing better. This time he had no occasion to scale the shelf in his former feline style. The librarian produced the key of the mysterious closet in which the ladder was kept. The young musician ran up to the Rossini shelf like a lamp-lighter and brought down with him not one but half-a-dozen volumes.

"Too many, too many," said Sigismondi, "one would have been quite enough. Well, let us open _Otello_."

In the score which the old and young musician proposed to examine together, the three trombone parts, according to the Italian custom, were written on one and the same staff, thus 1, 2, 3 _tromboni_.

Sigismondi began his lecture on the enormities of Rossini as displayed in _Otello_ by reading the list of the instruments employed.

"_Flutes_, two flutes; well there is not much harm in that. No one will hear them; only, with diabolical perfidy, one of these modern flutists will be sure to take a _piccolo_ and pierce all sensitive ears with his shrill whistling.

"_Hautboys_, two hautboys; also good. Here Rossini follows the old school. I say nothing against his two hautboys; indeed, I quite approve of them.

[Sidenote: DONIZETTI AND ROSSINI.]

"_Clarionets!_ a barbarous invention, which the _Tedeschi_ might have kept them for themselves. They may be very good pipes for calling cows, but should be used for nothing else.

"_Ba.s.soons_; useless instruments, or nearly so. Our good masters employed them for strengthening the ba.s.s; but now the ba.s.soon has acquired such importance, that solos are written for it. This is also a German innovation. Mozart would have done well to have left the ba.s.soon in its original obscurity.

"1st and 2nd _Horns_; very good. Horns and hautboys combine admirably. I say nothing against Rossini's horns.

"3rd and 4th _Horns_! How many horns does the man want? _Quattro Corni, Corpo di Bacco!_ The greatest of our composers have always been contented with two. Shades of Pergolese, of Leo, of Jomelli! How they must shudder at the bare mention of such a thing. Four horns! Are we at a hunting party? Four horns! Enough to blow us to perdition."

The indignation and rage of the old musician went on increasing as he followed the gradual development of a _crescendo_ until he arrived at the explosion of the _fortissimo_. Then Sigismondi uttered a cry of despair, struck the score violently with his fist, upset the table which the imprudent Donizetti had loaded with the nefarious productions of Rossini, raised his hands to heaven and rushed from the room, exclaiming, "a hundred and twenty-three trombones! A hundred and twenty-three trombones!"

Donizetti followed the performer and endeavoured to explain the mistake.

"Not 123 trombones, but 1st, 2nd, 3rd trombones," he gently observed.

Sigismondi however, would not hear another word, and disappeared from the library crying "a hundred and twenty-three trombones," to the last.

Donizetti came back, lifted up the table, placed the scores upon it and examined them in peace. He then, in his turn, concealed them so that he might be able another time to find them whenever he pleased without clambering up walls or intriguing to get possession of ladders.

[Sidenote: ANNA BOLENA.]

The inquiring student of the Conservatory of Naples was born, in 1798, at Bergamo, and when he was seventeen years of age was put to study under Mayer, who, before the appearance of Rossini, shared with Paer the honour of being the most popular composer of the day. His first opera _Enrico di Borgogna_ was produced at Venice in 1818, and obtained so much success that the composer was entrusted with another commission for the same city in the following year. After writing an opera for Mantua in 1819 _Il Falegname di Livonia_, Donizetti visited Rome, where his _Zoraide di Granata_ procured him an exemption from the conscription and the honour of being carried in triumph and crowned at the Capitol.

Hitherto he may be said to have owed his success chiefly to his skilful imitation of Rossini's style, and it was not until 1830, when _Anna Bolena_ was produced at Milan (and when, curiously enough, Rossini had just written his last opera), that he exhibited any striking signs of original talent. This work, which is generally regarded as Donizetti's master-piece, or at least was some time ago (for of late years no one has had an opportunity of hearing it), was composed for Pasta and Rubini, and was first represented for Pasta's benefit in 1831. It was in this opera that Lablache gained his first great triumph in London.

Donizetti visited Paris in 1835, and there produced his _Marino Faliero_, which contains several spirited and characteristic pieces, such as the opening chorus of workmen in the a.r.s.enal and the gondolier chorus at the commencement of the second act. The charming _Elisir d'Amore_, the most graceful, melodious, moreover the most characteristic, and in many respects the best of all Donizetti's works, was written for Milan in 1832. In this work Signor Mario made his re-appearance at the Italian Opera of Paris in 1839; he had previously sung for some time at the Academie Royale in _Robert_ and other operas.

_Lucia di Lammermoor_, Donizetti's most popular opera, containing some of the most beautiful melodies in the sentimental style that he has composed, and altogether his best finale, was produced at Naples in 1835. The part of "Edgardo" was composed specially for Duprez, that of "Lucia" for Persiani.

The pretty little opera or operetta ent.i.tled _Il Campanello di Notte_ was written under very interesting circ.u.mstances to save a little Neapolitan theatre from ruin. Donizetti heard that the establishment was in a failing condition, and that the performers were without money and in great distress. He sought them out, supplied their immediate wants, and one of the singers happening to say that if Donizetti would give them a new opera, their fortunes would be made: "As to that," replied the Maestro, "you shall have one within a week." To begin with, a libretto was necessary, but none was to be had. The composer, however, possessed considerable literary talent, and recollecting a vaudeville which he had seen some years before in Paris, called _La Sonnette de Nuit_, he took that for his subject, re-arranged it in an operatic form, and in nine days the libretto was written, the music composed, the parts learnt, the opera performed, and the theatre saved. It would have been difficult to have given a greater proof of generosity, and of fertility and versatility of talent. I may here mention that Donizetti designed, and wrote the words, as well as the music of the last act of the _Lucia_; that the last act of _La Favorite_ was also an afterthought of his; and that he himself translated into Italian the libretti of Betly and _La Fille du Regiment_.

[Sidenote: VICTOR HUGO AT THE OPERA.]

When _Lucrezia Borgia_ (written for Milan in 1834) was produced in Paris, in 1840, Victor Hugo, the author of the admirable tragedy on which it is founded, contested the right of the Italian librettists, to borrow their plots from French dramas; maintaining that the representation of such libretti in France const.i.tuted an infringement of the French dramatists' "_droits d'auteur_." He gained his action, and _Lucrezia Borgia_ became, at the Italian Opera of Paris, _La Rinegata_, the Italians at the court of Pope Alexander the Sixth being metamorphosed into Turks. A French version of _Lucrezia Borgia_ was prepared for the provinces, and ent.i.tled _Nizza di Grenada_.

[Sidenote: AUTHORS' RIGHTS.]

A year or two afterwards, Verdi's _Hernani_ experienced the same fate at the Theatre Italien as _Lucrezia Borgia_. Then the original authors of _La Pie Voleuse_, _La Grace de Dieu_, &c., followed Victor Hugo's example, and objected to the performance of _La Gazza Ladra_ and _Linda di Chamouni_, &c. Finally, an arrangement was made, and at present exists, by which Italian operas founded on French dramas may be performed in Paris on condition of an indemnity being paid to the French dramatists. Marsolier, the author of the Opera Comique, ent.i.tled _Nina, ou la Folle par Amour_, set to music by Dalayrac, had applied for an injunction twenty-three years before, to prevent the representation of Paisiello's _Nina_, in Paris; but the Italian disappeared before the question was tried. The principle, however, of an author's right of property in a work, or any portion of a work, had been established nearly two centuries before. In a "privilege" granted to St. Amant in 1653, for the publication of his _Moise Sauve_, it is expressly forbidden to extract from that "epic poem" subjects for novels and plays. These cautions proved unnecessary, as the work so strictly protected contained no available materials for plays, novels, or any other species of literary composition, including even "epic poems;" but _Moise Sauve_ has nevertheless been the salvation of several French authors whose property might otherwise have been trespa.s.sed upon to a considerable extent. Nevertheless, the principle of an author's sole, inalienable interest in the incidents he may have invented or combined, without reference to the new form in which they may be presented, cannot, as a matter of course, be entertained anywhere; but the system of "author's rights" so energetically fought for and conquered by Beaumarchais has a very wide application in France, and only the other day it was decided that the translators and arrangers of _Le Nozze di Figaro_, for the Theatre Lyrique must share their receipts with the descendants and heirs of the author of _Le Mariage de Figaro_. It will appear monstrous to many persons in England who cannot conceive of property otherwise than of a material, palpable kind, that Beaumarchais's representatives should enjoy any interest in a work produced three-quarters of a century ago; but as his literary productions possess an actual, easily attainable value, it would be difficult to say who ought to profit by it, if not those who, under any system of laws, would benefit by whatever other possessions he might have left. It may be a slight advantage to society, in an almost inappreciable degree, that "author's rights" should cease after a certain period; but, if so, the same principle ought to be applied to other forms of created value. The case was well put by M. de Vigny, in the "Revue des Deux Mondes," in advocating the claims of a grand-daughter, or great grand-daughter of Sedaine. He pointed out, that if the dramatist in question, who was originally an architect, had built a palace, and it had lasted until the present day, no one would have denied that it descended naturally to his heirs; and that as, instead of building in stone, he devoted himself to the construction of operas and plays, the results of his talent and industry ought equally to be regarded as the inalienable property of his descendants.

[Sidenote: LA FAVORITE.]

But to return to _Lucrezia Borgia_, which, with _Lucia_ and _La Favorite_, may be ranked amongst the most successful of Donizetti's productions. The favour with which _Lucrezia_ is received by audiences of all kinds may be explained, in addition to the merit of much of the music, by the manner in which the princ.i.p.al parts are distributed, so that the cast, to be efficient, must always include four leading singers, each of whom has been well-provided for by the composer. It contains less recitative than any of Rossini's operas--a great advantage, from a popular point of view, it having been shown by experience that the public of the present day do not care for recitative (especially when they do not understand a word of it), but like to pa.s.s as quickly as possible from one musical piece to another. From an artistic point of view the shortness of Donizetti's recitatives is not at all to be regretted, for the simple reason that he has never written any at all comparable to those of Rossini, whose dramatic genius he was far from possessing. The most striking situation in the drama, a thoroughly musical situation of which a great composer, or even an energetic, pa.s.sionate, melo-dramatic composer, like Verdi, would have made a great deal, is quite lost in the hands of Donizetti. The _Brindisi_ is undeniably pretty, and was never considered vulgar until it had been vulgarised. But Donizetti has shown no dramatic power in the general arrangement of the princ.i.p.al scene, and the manner in which the drinking song is interrupted by the funeral chorus, has rather a disagreeable, than a terrible or a solemn effect. The finale to the first act, or "prologue," is finely treated, but "Gennaro's" dying scene and song, is the most dramatic portion of the work, which it ought to terminate, but unfortunately does not. I think it might be shown that _Lucrezia_ marks the distance about half way between the style of Rossini and that of Verdi. Not that it is so much inferior to the works of the former, or so much superior to those of the latter; but that among Donizetti's later operas, portions of _Maria di Rohan_ (Vienna, 1843), might almost have been written by the composer of _Rigoletto_; whereas, the resemblance for good or for bad, between these two musicians, of the decadence, is not nearly so remarkable, if we compare _Lucrezia Borgia_ with one of Verdi's works. Still, in _Lucrezia_ we already notice that but little s.p.a.ce is accorded to recitative, which in the _Trovatore_ finds next to none; we meet with choruses written in the manner afterwards adopted by Verdi, and persisted in by him to the exclusion of all other modes; while as regards melody, we should certainly rather cla.s.s the tenor's air in _I Lombardi_ with that in _Lucrezia Borgia_, than the latter with any air ever composed by Rossini.

When Donizetti revisited Paris in 1840, he produced in succession _I Martiri_ (the work written for Nourrit and objected to by the Neapolitan censorship), _La Fille du Regiment_, written for the Opera Comique, and _La Favorite_, composed in the first instance for the Theatre de la Renaissance, but re-arranged for the Academie, when the brief existence of the Theatre de la Renaissance had come to an end. As long as it lasted, this establishment, opened for the representation of foreign operas in the French language, owed its pa.s.sing prosperity entirely to a French version of the _Lucia_.

Jenny Lind, Sontag, Alboni, have all appeared in _La Figlia del Reggimento_ with great success; but when this work was first produced in Paris, with Madame Thillon in the princ.i.p.al part, it was not received with any remarkable favour. It is full of smooth, melodious, and highly animated music, but is, perhaps, wanting in that piquancy of which the French are such great admirers, and which rendered the duet for the vivandieres, in Meyerbeer's _Etoile du Nord_, so much to their taste.

_L'Ange de Nigida_, converted into _La Favorite_ (and founded in the first instance on a French drama, _Le Comte de Commingues_) was brought out at the Academie, without any expense in scenery and "getting up,"

and achieved a decided success. This was owing partly to the pretty choral airs at the commencement, partly to the baritone's cavatina (admirably sung by Barroilhet, who made his _debut_ in the part of "Alphonse"); but, above all, to the fourth act, with its beautiful melody for the tenor, and its highly dramatic scene for the tenor and soprano, including a final duet, which, if not essentially dramatic in itself, occurs at least in a most dramatic situation.

The whole of the fourth act of _La Favorite_, except the cavatina, _Ange si pur_, which originally belonged to the Duc d'Albe, and the _andante_ of the duet, which was added at the rehearsals, was written in three hours. Donizetti had been dining at the house of a friend, who was engaged in the evening to go to a party. On leaving the house, the host, after many apologies for absenting himself, intreated Donizetti to remain, and finish his coffee, which Donizetti, being inordinately fond of that stimulant, took care to do. He asked at the same time for some music paper, began his fourth act, and finding himself in the vein for composition, went on writing until he had completed it. He had just put the final stroke to the celebrated "_Viens dans une autre patrie_," when his friend returned, at one in the morning, and congratulated him on the excellent manner in which he had employed his time.

[Sidenote: L'ELISIR D'AMORE.]

After visiting Rome, Milan, and Vienna, for which last city he wrote _Linda di Chamouni_, Donizetti returned to Paris, and in 1843 composed _Don Pasquale_ for the Theatre Italien, and _Don Sebastien_ for the Academie. The lugubrious drama to which the music of _Don Sebastien_ is wedded, proved fatal to its success. On the other hand, the brilliant gaiety of _Don Pasquale_, rendered doubly attractive by the admirable execution of Grisi, Mario, Tamburini, and Lablache, delighted all who heard it. The pure musical beauty of the serenade, and of the quartett, one of the finest pieces of concerted music Donizetti ever wrote, were even more admired than the lively animated dialogue-scenes, which are in Donizetti's very best style; and the two pieces just specified, as well as the baritone's cavatina, _Bella siccome un angelo_, aided the general success of the work, not only by their own intrinsic merit, but also by the contrast they present to the comic conversational music, and the buffo airs of the ba.s.s. The music of _Don Pasquale_ is probably the cleverest Donizetti ever wrote; but it wants the _charm_ which belongs to that of his _Elisir d'Amore_, around which a certain sentiment, a certain atmosphere of rustic poetry seems to hang, especially when we are listening to the music of "Nemorino" or "Norina." Even the comic portions in the _Elisir_ are full of grace, as for instance, the admirable duet between "Norina" and "Dulcamara;" and the whole work possesses what is called "colour," that is to say, each character is well painted by the music, which, moreover, is always appropriate to the general scene. To look for "colour," or for any kind of poetry in a modern drawing-room piece of intrigue, like _Don Pasquale_, with the notaries of real life, and with lovers in black coats, would be absurd.

I may mention that the libretto of _Don Pasquale_ is a re-arrangement of Pavesi's _Ser Marcantonio_ (was "_Ser_" _Marcantonio_ an Englishman?) produced in 1813.

[Sidenote: DONIZETTI'S REPERTOIRE.]

In the same year that Donizetti brought out _Don Pasquale_ in Paris, he produced _Maria di Rohan_ at Vienna. The latter work contains an admirable part for the baritone, which has given Ronconi the opportunity of showing that he is not only an excellent buffo, but is also one of the finest tragic actors on the stage. The music of _Maria di Rohan_ is highly dramatic: that is to say, very appropriate to the various personages, and to the great "situations" of the piece. In pourtraying the rage of the jealous husband, the composer exhibits all that earnestness and vigour for which Verdi has since been praised--somewhat sparingly, it is true, but praised nevertheless by his admirers. The contralto part, on the other hand, is treated with remarkable elegance, and contains more graceful melodies than Verdi is in the habit of composing. I do not say that Donizetti is in all respects superior to Verdi; indeed, it seems to me that he has not produced any one opera so thoroughly dramatic as _Rigoletto_; but as Donizetti and Verdi are sometimes contrasted, and as it was the fashion during Donizetti's lifetime, to speak of his music as light and frivolous, I wish to remark that in one of his latest operas he wrote several scenes, which, if written by Verdi, would be said to be in that composer's best style.

Donizetti's last opera, _Catarina Comaro_, was produced in Naples in the year 1844. This was his sixty-third dramatic work, counting those only which have been represented. There are still two operas of Donizetti's in existence, which the public have not heard. One, a piece in one act, composed for the Opera Comique, and which is said every now and then to be on the point of being performed; the other, _Le Duc d'Albe_, which, as before-mentioned, was written for the Academie Royale, on one of the two libretti returned by Rossini to Scribe, after the composer of _William Tell_ came to his mysterious resolution of retiring from operatic life.

Of Donizetti's sixty-three operas, about two-thirds are quite unknown to England, and of the nine or ten which may still be said to keep the stage, the earliest produced, _Anna Bolena_, is the composer's thirty-second work. _Anna Bolena_, _L'Elisir d'Amore_, _Lucrezia Borgia_, _Lucia di Lammermoor_, and _Roberto Devereux_, are included between the numbers 31 and 52, while between the numbers 53 and 62, _La Fille du Regiment_, _La Favorite_, _Linda di Chamouni_, _Don Pasquale_, and _Maria di Rohan_, are found. The first five of Donizetti's most popular operas, were produced between the years 1830 and 1840; the last five between the years 1840 and 1844. Donizetti appears, then, to have produced his best serious operas during the middle period of his career--unless it be considered that _La Favorite_, _Linda di Chamouni_, and _Maria di Rohan_, are superior to _Anna Bolena_, _Lucrezia Borgia_, and _Lucia di Lammermoor_; and to the same epoch belongs _L'Elisir d'Amore_, which in my opinion is the freshest, most graceful, and most melodious of his comic operas, though some may prefer _La Fille du Regiment_ or _Don Pasquale_, both full of spirit and animation.

It is also tolerably clear, from an examination of Donizetti's works in the order in which they were produced, that during the last four or five years of his artistic life he produced more than his average number of operas, possessing such merit that they have taken their place in the repertoires of the princ.i.p.al opera houses of Europe. Donizetti had lost nothing either in fertility or in power, while he appeared in some respects to be modifying and improving his style. Thus, in the Swiss opera of _Linda di Chamouni_ (Vienna, 1842), we find, especially in the music of the contralto part, a considerable amount of local colour--an important dramatic element which Donizetti had previously overlooked, or, at least, had not turned to any account; while _Maria di Rohan_ contains the best dramatic music of a pa.s.sionate kind that Donizetti has ever written.

[Sidenote: DONIZETTI'S DEATH.]

In composing, Donizetti made no use of the pianoforte, and wrote, as may be imagined, with great rapidity, never stopping to make a correction, though he is celebrated among the modern Italian composers for the accuracy of his style. Curiously enough, he never went to work without having a small ivory sc.r.a.per by his side; and any one who has studied intellectual peculiarities will understand, that once wanting this instrument, he might have felt it necessary to scratch out notes and pa.s.sages every minute. Mr. J. Wrey Mould, in his interesting "memoir,"

tells us that this ivory sc.r.a.per was given to Donizetti by his father when he consented, after a long and strenuous opposition, to his becoming a musician. An unfilial son might have looked upon the present as not conveying the highest possible compliment that could be paid him.