whether I should like to attend the rehearsals, in order to improve my mind, to which I willingly answered in the affirmative. Nobody would notice the young man that was quietly sitting in the darkest corner of the hall. Three maestri shared the conducting between them—Messrs. Perelli, Bonoldi, and Almasio; but one day it happened that neither of the three was present at the time appointed for rehearsal. The ladies and gentlemen were growing fidgetty, when M. Masini, who did not feel himself equal to sitting at the piano and accompanying from the full orchestral score, walked up to me and desired me to be the accompanyist for the evening: and as perhaps he believed in my skill as little as he did in his own, he added, "It will be quite enough to play the bass only." I was fresh from my studies, and certainly not puzzled by a full orchestral score; I therefore answered "All right," and took my place at the piano. I can well remember the ironical smiles that flitted over the faces of the Signori dilettanti: it seems that the quaint look of my young, slender and rather shabbily dressed person was not calculated to inspire them with much confidence.
'However, the rehearsal began, and in the course of it I gradually warmed up and got excited, so that at last, instead of confining myself to the mere piano part, I played the accompaniment with my left hand, while conducting most emphatically with my right. It was a tremendous success, all the more because quite unexpected. The rehearsal over, everybody congratulated me upon it, and amongst my most enthusiastic admirers were Count Pompeo Belgiojoso and Count Renato Borromeo. In short, whether the three maestri were too busy to attend the rehearsals, or whether there was some other reason, I was appointed to conduct the performance, which performance was so much welcomed by the audience that by general request it had to be repeated in the large and beautiful hall of the Casino dei Nobili, in presence of the Archduke and Archduchess Ranieri, and all the high life of those days.
'A short time afterwards, I was engaged by Count Renato Borromeo to write the music for a cantata for chorus and orchestra, on the occasion of the marriage of some member of the Count's family—if I remember right. I must say, however, that I never got so much as a penny out of all that, because the whole work was a gratuitous one.
'M. Masini next urged me to write an opera for the Teatro Filodrammatico, where he was conductor, and handed me a libretto, which after having been touched up by M. Solera, became Oberto, Conte di San Bonifacio.
'I closed immediately with the proposition, and went to Busseto, where I was appointed organist. I was obliged to remain there nearly three years, and during that time I wrote out the whole opera. The three years over, I took my way back to Milan, carrying with me the score in perfect order, and all the solo parts copied out by myself.
'But here difficulties began. Masini being no longer conductor, my chance of seeing my opera produced there was at an end. However, whether Masini had confidence in my talents, or wished to show me some kindness for the many occasions on which I had been useful to him, rehearsing and conducting for nothing, he did not give up the business, and assured me he would not leave a stone unturned until my opera was brought out at the Scala, when the turn came for the benefit of the Pio Instituto. Both Count Borromeo and Dr. Pasetti promised me their influence on Masini, but, as far as I am aware, their support did not go beyond some scanty words of recommendation. Masini, however, did his best, and so did Merighi, a cellist who had played under my direction, and had a certain opinion of the young maestro.
'The result was that the opera was put down for the spring of 1839, to be performed at La Scala for the benefit of the Pio Instituto; and among the interpreters were the four excellent artists Mme. Strepponi, Moriani, Giorgio Ronconi, and Marini.
'After a few rehearsals Moriani falls seriously ill, everything is brought to a standstill, and all hope of a performance gone! I broke down utterly, and was thinking of going back to Busseto, when one fine morning one of the theatre attendants knocked at my door and said sulkily, "Are you the maestro from Parma who was to give an opera for the Pio Instituto? Come with me to the theatre, the impresario wants to speak to you."
'Is it possible? said I, but … and the fellow began again—I was told to call on the maestro from Parma, who was to give an opera; if it is you, let us go. And away we went.
'The impresario was M. Bartolomeo Merelli. One evening crossing the stage he had overheard a talk between Strepponi and Ronconi, wherein the first said something very favourable to Oberto, and the second endorsed the praise.
'On my entering his room, he abruptly told me that having heard my "Oberto" spoken of very favourably by reliable and intelligent persons, he was willing to produce it during the next season, provided I would make some slight alterations in the compass of the solo parts, as the artists engaged were not the same who were to perform it before. This was a fair proposition. Young and unknown, I had the good luck to meet with an impresario willing to run the risk of mounting a new opera, without asking me to share in the expenditure, which I could not have afforded! His only condition was that he should share with me the sale of the copyright. This was not asking much, for the work of a beginner. And in fact, even after its favourable reception, Ricordi would give no more than 2000 Austrian livres (£67) for it.
'Though Oberto was not extraordinarily successful, yet it was well received by the public, and was performed several times; and M. Merelli even found it convenient to extend the season and give some additional performances of it. The principal interpreters were Mme.
