Glen Collection of printed music > Printed music > British minstrel, and musical and literary miscellany

42
THE BRITISH MINSTREL; AND
voice in the poorer applause of exclamation and sur-
prise. The concert was over by twelve, the gold and
silver paper bills of the performance were turned
into fans, and every one was waiting till supper
should be announced — the prima donna still sitting
by her friend, but surrounded by foreign attacJuis,
and in the highest elation at her own success. The
doors of an inner suite of rooms were thrown open
at last, and Grisi's cordon of admirers prepared to
follow her in, and wait on her at supper. At this
moment, one of the powdered menials of the house
stepped up and informed her very respectfully that
supper ji-as prepared in a separate room/or the singers!
Medea, in her most tragic hour, never stood so abso ■
lately the picture of hate, as did Grisi for a single
instant, i n the centre of that aristocratic crow d. Her
chest swelled and rose, her lips closed over her snowy
teeth, iind compressed till the blood left them, and
for myself, I looked unconsciously to see where she
would strike. I knew, then, that there was more
than fancy — there was nature and capability of the
real — in the imnginary passions she plays so power-
fully. A laugh of extreme amusement at the scene
from the higli-born woman who had accompanied
her, suddenly turned her humour, and she stopped
in the midst of a muttering of Italian, in which I
could distinguish only the terminations, and, with a
sort of tlieatrical nuickncss of transition, joined
heartily iu her mirth. It was immediately proposed
bytliis lady, however, that herself and her particular
circle sliould join the insulted prima donna at the
lower table, and they succeeded by this manoeuvre
in retaining Rubini and the others, who were leaving
the hiuise iu a most unequivocal Italian fury. I had
been fortunate enough to be included in the invita-
tion, and, with one or two foreign diplomatic men,
I followed Grisi and her amused friend to a small
room on a lower floor, that seemed to be the house-
keeper's parlour. Here supper was set for six (in-
cluding the man who had played the piano), and on
the side table stood every variety of wine and fruit,
and there was nothing in the supper, at least, to
make us regret the table we had left. With a most
imperative gesture, and rather an amusing attempt
at English, Grisi ordered the servants out of the
doom, and locked the door, and from that moment
(he conversation commenced and continued in their
own musical, passionate, and energetic Italian. My
long residence in that country had made me at home
in it; eveiy one present spoke it fluently; and I had an
opportimity I might never have again,of seeing with
what abandonment these children of the sun throw
aside rank and distinction (yet without forgetting it),
and join with those who are their superiors in every
circumstance of life, in the gaieties of a chance hour.
Out of their own country these singers would proba-
bly acknowledge no higher rank than that of the
kuid and gifted lady who was their guest; yet, with
the briefest apology at finding the room too cold after
the heat of the concert, they put on their cloaks and
hats as a safeguard to their lungs (more valuable to
them than to others ;) and as most of the cloaks were
he worse for travel, and the hats opera-hats with
two comers, the grotesque contrast with the diamonds
of one lady and the radiant beauty of the other, may
easily be imagined. Singing should be hungry work,
by the knife and fork they played ; and between the
excavations of truffle pies, and the bumpers of
champagne and burgundy, the words were few.
Lablache appeared to be an established droll, and
every syllable he found time to utter was received
with the most unbounded laughter, Rubini could
not recover from the slight he conceived put upon
liim and his profession by the separate table; and
he continually reminded Grisi, who by this time had
quite recovered her good humour, that, the night
before, supping at Devonshire House, the Duke of
Wellington had held her gloves on one side, wliile
his Grace their host, attended to her on the other.
"E vera!" said Ivanhott', with a look of modest ad-
miration at the prima donna. "E vera, e bravo !"
cried Tamburini, with his sepulchral talking tone,
much deeper than his singing. " Si, si, si, bravo!"
echoed all the company; and the haughty and happy
actress nodded all round with a radiant smile, and
repeated, in her silver tones, " Grazie ! cari amiei !
grazia!" As the servants had been turned out, the
removal of the first course was managed in pic-nie
fashion; and when the fruit and fresh bottles of
wine were set upon the table by the attaches and
younger gentlemen, the health of the princess who
honoured them by her presence was proposed in that
language, which, it seems to me, is more capable
than all others of e.xpressing afl'ectionate and respectt
ful devotion. All uncovered and stood up, and Grisi,
with teais in her eyes, kissed the hand of her bene-
factress and friend, and drank her health in silence.
It is a polite and common accomplishment in Italy
to improvise in verse, and the lady I speak of is well
known among her immediate friends for a singular
facility in this beautiful art. She reflected a moment
or two with the moisture in her eyes, and then com-
menced, low and soft, a poem, of which it would be
difficult, nay impossible, to convey in EngUsh, an
idea of its music and beauty. It took us back to
Italy, to its heavenly climate, its glorious arts, its
beauty and its ruins, and concluded with a line of
which I remember the sentiment to have been "out
of Italy every land is exile .'" The glasses were raised
as she ceased, and every one repeated after her,
" Fuori d' Italia tutto e esilio!" "Ma/" cried out the
fat Lablache, holding up hisglassofchampagne,and
looking through it with one eye, "siamo benesiliati
qua !" and, with a word of drollery, the party recover-
ed its gayer tone, and the humour and wit flowed
on brilliantly as before. The house had long been
still, and the last carriage belonging to the company
above stairs had rolled from the door, when Grisi
suddenly remembered a bird that she had lately
bought, of which she proceeded to give us a descrip-
tion, that probably penetrated to every corner of the
silent mansion. It was a mocking bird, that had
been kept two years in the opera-house, and between
rehearsal and performance had learned parts of every
thing it had overheard. It was the property of the
woman who took cai'c of the wardrobes. Grisi had
accidentally seen it, and immediately purchased it
for two guineas. How much of embellishment there
was in her imitations of her treasure I do not know ;
but certainly the whole power of her wondrous voice,
passion, and knowledge of music, seemed drunk up
at once in the wild, various, difficult, and rapid
mixture of the capricious melody she undertook.
First came, without the passage which it usually
terminates, the long, throat-down, gurgling, water-
toned triU, in which Rubini (but for the bird audits
mistress, it seemed to me) would have been inimita-
ble : then right upon it, as if it were the beginning
of a bar, and in the most unbreathing continuity,
followed a brilliant passage from the Barber of
Seville, ran into the passionate prayer of Anna
Bolena in her madness, and followed by the air of
"Suoni la tromba intrepida," the tremendous duet
in the Puritani, between Tamburini and Lablache.