tions, Lections, and Miserere were as on the previous day, with only slight differences. One Lection was given by a single soprano to a curious melody, which I am bringing you. It is an adagio in long notes, and lasts certainly more than a quarter of an hour; the voice has not the slightest pause, and the key is very high. Nevertheless, the whole was gone through with the clearest, purest, most unfailing intonation; the singer never dropped a hairbreadth, and his last note rose and sank just as evenly and roundly as the first; it was masterly. I was also struck by the sense they attach to the word “appoggiatura.” For example, if the melody passes from C to D or from C to E, they sing:
or,
or,
and this auxiliary note they call an “appoggiatura.” But they may call it what they will, it is a fearful thing, and one needs to become familiar with it not to be quite put out by this strange performance, which really reminded me of nothing so much as of our old women at church. The melody itself, as I said before, was a different matter. However, I saw beforehand from my book that the “Tenebrae” would form part of the service, and thinking it would interest you to know how it was sung in the papal chapel, I remained on the watch with my pencil sharpened till it came, and now set down for you the leading passages. (Again they sang it quite fast, forte all the
