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Updated: May 17, 2025
I love only you. I never have loved any one except you." He replied slowly, with cruel heaviness: "'I shall be every day, at three o'clock, at our home, in the Rue Spontini. It was not a lover, your lover, who said these things? No! it was a stranger, an unknown person." She straightened herself, and with painful gravity said: "Yes, I had been his. You knew it.
It was no longer daylight when they came out of the little apartment in the Rue Spontini. Robert Le Menil made a sign to a coachman, and entered the carriage with Therese. Close together, they rolled among the vague shadows, cut by sudden lights, through the ghostly city, having in their minds only sweet and vanishing impressions while everything around them seemed confused and fleeting.
In any case there was no real enthusiasm, and the only sign of approval was a rather lukewarm call for the celebrated master, who, covered with numerous decorations, made a sad impression on me as he bowed his thanks to the audience for their very moderate applause. Nobody was less blind to the somewhat disappointing result than Spontini himself.
The thought that they might meet again in the small apartment of the Rue Spontini was so painful to her that she discarded it at once. She preferred to think that an unforeseen event would prevent their meeting again the end of the world, for example.
I love only you. I never have loved any one except you." He replied slowly, with cruel heaviness: "'I shall be every day, at three o'clock, at our home, in the Rue Spontini. It was not a lover, your lover, who said these things? No! it was a stranger, an unknown person." She straightened herself, and with painful gravity said: "Yes, I had been his. You knew it.
The French invasion unsettled the affairs of Italy, and Spontini wandered somewhat aimlessly, unable to exercise his talents to advantage till he went to Paris in 1803, where he found a large number of brother Italian musicians, and a cordial reception, though himself an obscure and untried youth.
The city crier, in striped linsey-woolsey jacket and breeches, and with a yellow band across his shoulders, stood there, beat upon his drum, and proclaimed aloud from a written paper many wonderful things which were to be seen in the city. "He beats a good drum," said the Kammerjunker. "It would certainly delight Rossini and Spontini to hear the fellow!" said Wilhelm.
Could any words give more concisely the peculiar character of the much misunderstood Mozart, "the most delicate genius of light and love," "the most richly gifted of all musicians"? Does it not tell us more than all the outpourings of Oulibichef? Or this, in speaking of the formation of the opera and the demand for better libretti after the period of Spontini?
For practical purposes with Wagner the songs are "absolute" music: the words were his own, and he could alter them to suit the musical exigency. The opening of the next scene is spectacular, and the music is not striking for Wagner, though Marschner or Spontini might have owned it with pride.
This turned out so far correct that it possessed the requisite length and breadth, was black in its colour, and had two large white knobs. Then came the fateful rehearsal. Spontini was evidently ill at ease on his seat in the orchestra. First of all he wished to have the oboists placed behind him.
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