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Updated: June 15, 2025
"It is too bad," she said, her glance roving over the white walls of the villa. "It was irrevocably lost," Abbott declared. "No, no; I do not mean the picture. I am thinking of La Toscana. Her voice was really superb; and to lose it entirely...!" She waved a sympathetic hand. Abbott was about to rise up in vigorous protest. But fate itself chose to rebuke Flora.
Opera, with the magic aid of music, may contend successfully against such monstrosities as one singer singing an Italian part in French, whilst the others offer various styles of Italian, Anglo-Italian, German-Italian, Swedish-Italian almost any Italian save the lingua Toscana.
"Sgridi ancora una volta," says I, in the purest lingua Toscana, "e la lascero qui to get out of this mess as best you can cosi sicuro che il mio nome e Jenkinsono!" To my great relief she began to laugh. Immediately afterward, however, she sat down on the shingle and began to cry. It was too vexatious: what on earth was I to do? "Do you understand English?" I asked, despairingly.
Henceforth, let my readers, whenever they enjoy their muscatels out of the grape-house at home, or sip Moscada Toscana in Italy, or Muscat in La Vallais, give a kindly thought to that much-tried but never downcast monarch.
He spoke a few words, then returned to his table with Miss Van Tuyn's parting sentence in his ears; "When you have dined come and smoke your Toscana with us." As he ate his excellently cooked meal he felt pleasantly warmed and even the least bit excited. This was a wholly unexpected encounter.
"We hear that the enterprising impresario of one of the royal theatres has made an engagement with the Diva; and, if we have a regret, it is that she should be compelled to sing in the unfortunate language of our rude northern clime, which does not preter itself near so well to the bocca of the cantatrice as do the mellifluous accents of the Lingua Toscana, the langue par excellence of song.
It is probable that no one thought of her at all. Giovanna was a beauty and a very good girl; but she was a washerwoman for all that, whose toil fed seven mouths. Her father was Don Urbano, curate of Santa Toscana across the water. This may very easily sound worse than it is.
It was a great trouble to her that she could not pluck up courage to speak a word in Italian. "I know more about it than some that are glib enough," she would say to her niece Livy, "but these Tuscans are so particular with their Bocca Toscana." It was almost spiteful on the part of Miss Petrie, the manner in which, on this evening, she remained close to her friend Caroline Spalding.
Angela spoke English and French as easily and fluently as her native Tuscan, and had read the most notable books in all three languages, so she was well aware that of all kinds of human speech in the world there is none so adapted for making love and generally telling lies in, as the "lingua Toscana in bocca Romana."
Of Earl of Leicester the Italian knew nothing; but Count of Montfort was a more familiar sound. "Si, si, vero!" Sicily had rung with it; and Count Rosso Aldobrandini, of the Maremma Toscana, had given his only daughter and heiress to the banished English knight, Guido di Monforte, who had served in the king's army as a Provencal. Richard's heart beat high.
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