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Moved with quick pity I called again: "Nina!" She laughed again the same terrible laugh. "Si, si! Son' bella, son' bellissima!" she murmured. "E tu, Guido mio? Tu m'ami?" Then raising one hand as though commanding attention she cried: "Ascolta!" and began to sing clearly though feebly: "Ti saluto, Rosignuolo! Nel tuo duolo ti saluto! Sei l'amante della rosa Che morendo si fa sposa!"
If our own and our fellows' bodies seem to us intrinsically shameful or disgusting, nothing will ever really ennoble or purify our conceptions of sexual love. Love craves the flesh, and if the flesh is shameful the lover must be shameful. "Se la cosa amata è vile," as Leonardo da Vinci profoundly said, "l'amante se fa vile."
'Ti salute, Rosignuolo, Nel tuo duolo, il saluto! Sei l'amante delta rosa Che morendo si fa sposa!" Her rich voice rippled out on the air, rivaling the songs of the nightingales themselves. She broke off with a little laugh "Poor Fabio! there was always a false note somewhere when he sung. Come, Guido!"
The first opera produced was "Il Barbiere," on November 29, 1825, and this was speedily followed by "Tancredi," "Otello," "Il Turco in Italia," "Don Giovanni," "Cenerentola," and two operas composed by Garcia himself "L'Amante Astuto," and "La Figlia dell' Aria," The young singer's success was of extraordinary character, and New York, unaccustomed to Italian opera, went into an ecstasy of admiration.
It was the song that the poet-minstrel, the friend of Albrecht Dürer, wrote in honor of Luther when the great Reformation broke; and the prima donna, rising to her feet in the stern, and returning the greeting of the nightingale began: "Sorgiam, che spunta il dolce albor, cantar ascolto in mezzo ai fior voluttuoso un usignol spiegando a noi l'amante vol!..."
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