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Updated: June 24, 2025
Genovese, who had sung his duet with Carthagenova so well, was caricaturing himself now that la Tinti was on the stage. From a great singer he sank to the level of the most worthless chorus singer. The most formidable uproar arose that had ever echoed to the roof of the Fenice.
The doctor whispered a few words to Vendramin, and la Tinti was uneasy. "What are you plotting?" she inquired of the Prince's friend. "Are you kind-hearted?" said the doctor in her ear, with the sternness of an operator. The words pierced to her comprehension like a dagger-thrust to her heart. "It is to save Emilio's life," added Vendramin. "Come here," said the doctor to Clarina.
"What is there that is strange?" said she to Rodolphe, as they walked on the garden terrace, when he had been betrayed into one of those outbursts of conceit which come so naturally to Frenchmen in the expression of their feelings "what is extraordinary in the fact of your loving a young and beautiful woman, artist enough to be able to earn her living like Tinti, and of giving you some of the pleasures of vanity?
Was this a clever trick on the part of the management, to secure two full houses by bringing out Genovese and Tinti separately, or was Clarina's indisposition genuine?
"Is that all?" said she, with a smile that betrayed to the Frenchman a side he had not as yet perceived of the delightful nature of an Italian woman in love. "I will out-do la Tinti, if need be, to save my friend's life."
To picture la Tinti you must recall one of our best French singers when she came out in Il Fazzoletto, an opera by Garcia that was then being played by an Italian company at the theatre in the Rue Lauvois. She was so beautiful that a Naples guardsman, having failed to win a hearing, killed himself in despair.
"What on earth does the Duke do with a violin?" he wondered. "Do I owe this symphony to him?" He asked Clara Tinti. "My dear child," for she saw that Emilio was but a child, "dear child," said she, "that man, who is a hundred and eighteen in the parish register of vice, and only forty-seven in the register of the Church, has but one single joy left to him in life.
He felt on his heart the trickle of pearls, dropped there by an angel; he woke, and found himself bathed in the tears of Massimilla Doni. He was lying in her arms, and she gazed at him as he slept. That evening, at the Fenice, though la Tinti had not allowed him to rise till two in the afternoon, which is said to be very bad for a tenor voice, Genovese sang divinely in his part in Semiramide.
"If la Tinti has fully understood the part of Elcia, you will hear the frenzied song of a woman torn by her love for her people, and her passion for one of their oppressors, while Osiride, full of mad adoration for his beautiful vassal, tries to detain her.
Those who were admitted behind the scenes went off at once to inquire into the mystery of this performance, and it was presently rumored that la Tinti had treated her colleague Genovese to a dreadful scene, in which she had accused the tenor of being jealous of her success, of having hindered it by his ridiculous behavior, and even of trying to spoil her performance by acting passionate devotion.
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