49.—FOREWARNED IS FOREARMED.
It is no infrequent thing in musical centers, especially in European cities, to find organized attempts to affect the appearance of some prominent singer, either favorably or the opposite.
Perhaps the manager of the opera may have some new star whom he wishes to bring to the notice of the public in the most flattering manner possible. Perhaps it is some singer unknown to that city whom he wants to give a flattering reception. If so, the machinery is at once set in motion.
Men and women are scattered through the house, and each one has his instructions to assist in the applause, the "bravos," the encores, and probably the flowers that are sent up to the stage. The favorite is brought before the curtain and a spontaneous (?) ovation is given her, and, of course, the public are informed of all this in double headlines. The first appearance has been successful and the prima donna's popularity is assured. But there is another side to the matter. There may be an opposing manager, or a rival singer, or a jealous company who wish to throw every possible obstacle in the path of the cantatrice. There may be a claque formed to make the initial performance a dismal failure. Scattered through the theater may be a body of people who have orders to hiss and jeer, and perhaps to create such a disturbance that an impartial hearing is impossible.
But sometimes even such a cabal meets its match.
Madame Alboni was a woman of much strength of character and possessed of much energy and decision. Such a claque was once formed against her, but with results rather unforeseen to the partakers in it.
Having an operatic engagement at Trieste, this noted singer went to that city; but on her arrival she found that a conspiracy had been formed against her, and that unless she took prompt action her success was endangered. So she disguised herself in male attire, and having a strong face, short hair, and solid build, this was not a hard matter to do.
Then hunting up the managers of the claque, she offered her services to assist in ruining the performance of the new prima donna.
"I am quite unknown to all of you," she said to the leader, "but if there's fun on hand, count on me."
"Very well," was the answer, "we are preparing to hiss off a new cantatrice this evening."
"Why," said the disguised singer, "what is the matter, what wrong has she done?"
"We know nothing of her save that she comes from Rome, and we wish to have no singers here whose reputation has not been gained amongst us."
"That is only fair. In what way can I help?"
"Each of us will carry a whistle like this one," producing a little black whistle. "Take this one, and at a signal which will be given after the air of Rosina, in Rossini's opera, to-night, you have but to add to the uproar which will be raised."
"Very well," was the answer, "you may depend on my being there."
That night the theater was rilled to overflowing to hear that popular opera of Rossini's, "The Barber of Seville." At first all seemed to go well. The singers who took the parts of Almavira and Figaro were warmly welcomed, for they were two native favorites.
But now Rosina comes on, and immediately several whistles are heard in various parts of the house, without waiting for the leader's signal. Madame Alboni advanced to the front of the stage, and, holding out her whistle, said:—
"Gentlemen, we must not hiss me, but the cavatina. You have commenced too soon."
The whole audience at once saw through the affair and broke into hearty applause, and before the close of the opera she had received a dozen recalls.
When the manager expressed his surprise at her knowledge of the conspiracy against her, she said: "My dear sir, it is here as in politics—you must lead the movement or else be swept away."