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Updated: June 24, 2025
He had waited patiently till Clara's voice had been fully trained by a famous professor, and till she was sixteen, before taking toll of the treasure so carefully cultivated. La Tinti had made her debut the year before, and had enchanted the three most fastidious capitals of Italy. "I am perfectly certain that her great nobleman is not my husband," said the Duchess.
"Elcia declares her love in the presence of the two Hebrew leaders, and then renounces it in the fine aria, Porge la destra amata. What anguish! Only look at the house!" The pit was shouting bravo, when Genovese left the stage. "Now, free from her deplorable lover, we shall hear Tinti sing, O desolata Elcia the tremendous cavatina expressive of love disapproved by God."
The tears the Duchess wiped away as she quitted her box showed plainly that she was thinking of the Venice that is no more; and Vendramin kissed her hand. The performance ended with the most extraordinary chaos of noises: abuse and hisses hurled at Genovese and a fit of frenzy in praise of la Tinti. It was a long time since the Venetians had had so lively an evening.
At a gesture on Cataneo's part, as he seemed inclined to dispute this order, which was given with an action worthy of Semiramis, the part in which la Tinti had won her fame, the prima donna flew at the old ape and put him out of the room. "If you do not leave me in quiet this evening, we never meet again. And my never counts for more than yours," she added.
The commotion only yielded to Clarina, and she, furious at the difficulties raised by Genovese's obstinacy, sang Mi manca la voce as it will never be sung again. The enthusiasm was tremendous; the audience forgot their indignation and rage in pleasure that was really acute. "She floods my soul with purple glow!" said Capraja, waving his hand in benediction at la Diva Tinti.
"She is like the gorgeous Indian plant, which deserting the earth absorbs invisible nourishment from the atmosphere, and sheds from its spiral white blossom such fragrant vapors as fill the brain with dreams," replied Capraja. On being recalled, la Tinti appeared alone.
When this was over, the Princess had to take part in the famous quartette, Mi manca la voce, which was sung by her with Tinti, with the famous tenor Genovese, and with a well-known Italian Prince then in exile, whose voice, if he had not been a Prince, would have made him one of the Princes of Art. "Take that seat," said Francesca to Rodolphe, pointing to her own chair. "Oime!
La Tinti whose name also resembled that which the French singer assumed was now seventeen, and the poor Prince three-and-twenty. What mocking hand had thought it sport to bring the match so near the powder? A fragrant room hung with rose-colored silk and brilliant with wax lights, a bed dressed in lace, a silent palace, and Venice! Two young and beautiful creatures! every ravishment at once.
The pit was in the greatest excitement. The Venetian public believed there was a deliberate plot between Genovese and his friends. La Tinti was recalled and applauded with frenzy while Genovese had a hint or two warning him of the hostile feeling of the audience.
The general shout of laughter changed to almost tragical gravity when they saw that Genovese was in utter earnest. La Tinti understood that her companion was in love with her, and had spoken the truth on the stage, the land of falsehood. "Poverino!" she murmured, stroking the Prince's hand under the table.
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