ML 
 
 41 
 
 iV4HS VERDI 
 
 UC-NRLF 
 
 B 3 Sib fllD 
 
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 GIFT or 
 
 Sir Henry Heyman 
 
Verdi 
 
^: I 4- I 
 
 Copyright, 1901, by Elbert Hubbard. 
 
Of all the operas that Verdi wrote, 
 
 The best, to my taste, is the Trovatore ; 
 And Mario can soothe, with a tenor note, 
 
 The souls in purgatory. 
 
 The moon on the tower slept soft as snow ; 
 
 And who was not thrilled in the strangest way. 
 As we heard him sing, while the gas burned low, 
 
 " Non ti scordar di me " ? 
 
 ****** 
 
 But O, the smell of that jasmine fiiower ! 
 
 And O, the music ! and O, the way 
 That voice rang out from the donjon tower, 
 " Non ti scordar di me, 
 ♦♦ Non ti scordar di me ! " 
 
 BULWER-LYTTON 
 
 bl}^^y '^^ 
 
GIUSEPPE VERDI 
 
<:!/C> 
 
 ^(mi 
 
 E sort of clung to the iron pickets, did GIUSEPt^E 
 Ithe boy, and pressed his thin face through VERDI 
 the fence, and listened. Some one was 
 I playing the piano in the big house, and 
 I the windows with their little diamond 
 I panes were flung open to catch the even- 
 ing breeze ^ He listened. 
 I His big grey eyes were open wide, the 
 pupils dilated, — he was trying to see the 
 music as well as hear it. 
 The boy's hair matched the yellow of his 
 face, being one shade lighter, sun-bleach- 
 ed from going hatless. His clothes were 
 as yellow as the yellow of his face, and 
 shaded off into the dust that strewed the 
 street. He was like a quail in a stubble 
 field — you might have stepped over him 
 and never seen him at all ^ He listened^ 
 Almost every evening someone played 
 Ithe piano in the big house. He had dis- 
 covered the fact a week before. And now 
 I when the dusk was gathering, he would 
 watch his chance and slide away from 
 I the hut where his parents lived, and 
 run fast up the hill, and along the shelv- 
 ing roadway to the tall iron fence that 
 |marked the residence of Signior Barezzi. 
 He would creep along under the stone 
 wall and crouching there, would wait 
 
 8i 
 
GfUSEPPE and listen for the music. Several evenings he had come 
 VERDI and waited, and waited, and waited, — and not a note or 
 a voice did he hear. 
 
 Once it had rained, and he didn't mind it much, for he 
 expected every moment the music would strike up, 
 you know, — and who cares for cold, or wet, or even hun- 
 ger, if one can hear good music ! The air grew chill and 
 the boy's thread-bare jacket stuck to his bony form 
 like a postage stamp to a letter. Little rivulets of water 
 ran down his hair and streamed off his nose and cheeks. 
 HT He waited — ^he was waiting for the music. 
 He might have waited until the water dissolved his in- 
 significant cosmos into just plain yellow mud, and 
 then he would have been simply distributed all along 
 the gutter, down to the stream, and down the stream 
 to the river, and down the river to the ocean ; and no 
 one would ever have heard of him again. 
 But Signior Barezzi's coachman came along that night, 
 keeping close to the fence under the trees to avoid the 
 wet ; and the coachman fell over the boy. 
 Now, when we fall over anything we always want to 
 kick it, — no matter what it is, be it a cat, dog, stump, 
 stick, stone, or human. The coachman being but clay 
 (undissolved) turned and kicked the boy. Then he 
 seized him by the collar, and accused him of being a 
 thief. The lad acknowledged the indictment, and stam- 
 meringly tried to explain that it was only music he 
 was trying to steal ; and that it really made no differ- 
 ence because even if one did fill himself full of the 
 82 
 
music, there was just as much left for other people, GIUSEPPE 
 since music was different from most things. VERDI 
 
 The thought was not very well expressed, although 
 the idea was all right, but the coachman failed to grasp 
 it. So he tingled the boy's bare legs with the whip he 
 carried, by way of answer, duly cautioning him never 
 to let it occur again, and released the prisoner on 
 parole jar <r 
 
 But the boy forgot and came back the next night. He 
 sat on the ground below the wall, intending to keep 
 out of sight ; but when the music began he stood up, 
 and now, with face pressed between the pickets, he 
 listened iff iff 
 
 The wind sighed softly through the orange trees ; the 
 air was heavy with the perfume of flowers ; the low of 
 cattle came from across the valley, and on the evening 
 breeze from an open casement rose the strong, vibrant 
 yet tender strains of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. 
 The lad listened. 
 
 ** Do you like music ? ** came a voice from behind. The 
 boy awoke with a start, and tried to butt his head 
 through the pickets to escape in that direction. He 
 thought it was the coachman. He turned and saw the 
 kindly face of Signior Barezzi himself. 
 ** Do I like music? Mel No, I mean yes, when it is 
 like that 1 " he exclaimed, beginning his reply with a 
 tremolo and finishing bravura. 
 
 »* That is my daughter playing ; come inside with me." 
 if The hand of the great man reached out, and the 
 
 83 
 
GIUSEPPE urchin clutched at it as if it were something he had 
 VERDI been looking and longing for. 
 
 They walked through the big gates where a stone lion 
 kept guard on each side. The lions never moved. They 
 walked up the steps and entering the pzirlor, saw a 
 young woman seated at the piano. 
 ** Grazia, dear, here is the little boy we saw the other 
 day — ^you remember ? I thought I would bring him in.*' 
 ff The young woman came forward and touched the 
 lad on his tawny head with one of her beautiful hands 
 — ^the beautiful hands that had just been playing the 
 Sonata if if 
 
 " That 's right, little boy, we have seen you outside 
 
 there before, & if I had known you were there tonight, 
 
 I would have gone out and brought you in ; but Papa 
 
 has done the service for me. Now, you must sit down 
 
 right over there where I can see you, and I will 
 
 play for you. But won't you tell us your name ?" 
 
 jir**Me?" replied the boy, *< why, my name 
 
 is Giuseppe Verdi— I am ten years 
 
 old, going on 'leven — you see I 
 
 like your playing because I 
 
 play myself, a little!" 
 
 84 
 
OR over a hundred years three- GIUSEPPE 
 fourths of the population of Italy VERDI 
 have been on reduced rations. Star- 
 vation even yet crouches just 
 around the corner. 
 In his childhood young Verdi used 
 to wear a bit of rope for a girdle, and 
 when hunger gnawed importunate- 
 ly, he would simply pull his belt 
 one knot tighter, and pray that the ravens would come 
 and treat him as well as they did Elijah. His parents 
 were so poor that the question of education never 
 came to them ; but desire has its way, so we find the 
 boy at ten years of age running errands for a grocer 
 with a musical attachment. This grocer, at Busseto, 
 Jasquith by name, hung upon the fringe of art, and 
 made the dire mistake of mixing business with his 
 fad, for he sold his wares to sundry gentlemen who 
 played in bands. This led the good man to moralize at 
 times, and he would say to Giuseppe, who had been 
 promoted from errand boy to clerk, ** You can trust a 
 first violin, and a cello usually pays, but never say yes 
 to a trombone or an oboe ; and as for a kettledrum, 1 
 wouldn't believe one on a stack of Bibles!" 
 Over the grocer's shop was a little parlor, and in it 
 was a spinet that young Giuseppe had the use of four 
 evenings a week. In his later years Verdi used to tell 
 of this, and once he said that the idea of prohibition 
 and limit should be put on every piano, — then the pupil 
 
 8s 
 
GIUSEPPE would make the best of his privileges ^ff In those days 
 VERDI there was a tax on spinets, and I believe that this tax 
 has never been rescinded, for you are taxed if you 
 keep a piano, now, in any part of Italy. Seversd times 
 the poor grocer's spinet stood in sore peril from the 
 publicans and sinners, but the bailiffs were bought off 
 by Signior Barezzi who came to the rescue. 
 The note of thrift was even then in Verdi's score, for 
 he himself has told how he induced the Barezzi house- 
 hold to patronize the honest grocer with musical pro- 
 clivities jjr 3«r 
 
 When he was twelve years old Verdi occasionally 
 played the organ in the village church at Busseto. It 
 will be seen from this that he had courage, and even 
 then possessed a trace of that pride and self-will that 
 was to be first his disadvantage and then his blessing. 
 0* Signior Barezzi' s attachment to the boy was very 
 great, and we find the youngster was on friendly 
 terms with the family, having free use of their piano, 
 with valuable help and instruction from Signiorina 
 Grazia <r <r 
 
 "When he was seventeen he was easily the first musi- 
 cian in the place, and Busseto had nothing more to 
 offer in way of advantages* He thirsted for a wider 
 career, and cast longing looks out into the great out- 
 side world. He had played at Parma, only a few miles 
 away, and the bishop there, sifter hearing him impro- 
 vise on the organ, had paid him a doubtful compli- 
 ment by sayings " Your playing is surely unlike any- 
 86 
 
thing ever before heard at Parma." if Fair fortune GIUSEPPE 
 smiled when Signior Barezzi secured for young Verdi VERDI 
 a free scholarship at the Conservatory of Milan. 
 The youth went gaily forth, attended by the blessings 
 of the whole village, to claim his honors. 
 Arriving at the Conservatory, the directors put him 
 through his paces, after the usual custom, to prove 
 his fitness for the honor that had been thrust upon 
 him. He played first upon the piano, and the commit- 
 tee advised together in whispered monotone. Then 
 they asked him to play on the organ, and there was 
 more consultation, with argument punctuated by roll- 
 ing adjectives and many picturesque gesticulations. 
 if Then they asked him to play the piano again. He 
 did so, and the great men retired to deliberate and 
 vote on the issue if if 
 
 Their decision was that the youth was self-willed, 
 erratic, and that he had some absurd mannerisms and 
 tricks of performance that forbade his ever making a 
 musician. And, therefore, they ruled that his admis- 
 sion to the Conservatory was impossible. 
 Barezzi, who was present with his protege, stormed 
 in wrath, and declared that Verdi was the peer of any 
 of his judges ; in fact, was so much beyond them that 
 they could not comprehend him. 
 
 This only confirmed the powers in the stand they had 
 taken, and they intimated that a great musician in 
 Busseto was something different in Milan — Signior 
 Barezzi had better take his young man home and be 
 
 87 
 
GIUSEPPE content to astonish the villagers with noisy acrobat- 
 VERDI ics ^ There being nothing else to do, the advice was 
 first flouted and then followed. They arrived home, 
 and Grazia and the grocer were informed that the Con- 
 servatory at Milan was a delusion & a snare — ** a place 
 where pebbles were polished and diamonds dimmed." 
 ff Shortly after, the townspeople, to show their faith 
 in the home-product, had Verdi duly installed as or- 
 ganist of the village church at a salary equal to forty 
 dollars a year. 
 
 Under the spell of this good fortune, Verdi proposed 
 marriage to the daughter of Jasquith, the grocer, his 
 friend and benefactor. Gratitude to the man who had 
 first assisted him, had much to do with the alliance ; 
 and in wedding the daughter, Verdi simply complied 
 with what he knew to be the one ardent desire of the 
 
 father jT^* 
 
 The girl was a frail creature, of fine instincts, but her 
 intellect had been starved just as her body had been. 
 Her chief virtue seems to have been that she believed 
 absolutely in the genius of Verdi. 
 The ambition of Verdi began to show itself. He wrote 
 an opera, and offered it to Marelli, the impresario of 
 La Scala at Milan. The impresario had heard of Verdi, 
 through the fact that he had been black-balled by the 
 Conservatory. This of itself would have been no pass- 
 port to fame, but the Committee saw fit to defend 
 themselves in the matter by making a public report of the 
 considerations which had moved them to shut the doors 
 88 
 
on the young man from Busseto. This gave the sub- GIUSCPPJB 
 ject a weight and prominence that simple admission VERDI 
 never would have given. 
 
 Marelli, the Major Pond of Milan, saw the expressions 
 "bizarre," ** erratic," "unprecedented," and "pecu- 
 liar," and kept his eye on the young man. And so when 
 the opera was written he pounced upon it, thinking 
 possibly a new star had appeared on the musical hor- 
 izon if The opera was accepted. Verdi, feverish with 
 hope, moved his scanty effects to Milan, and there 
 with his frail and beautiful girl-wife and their baby 
 boy, lived in a garret just across from the theatre. 
 Preparations for the performance were going on apace. 
 The night of November 17th, 1839, came, and the play 
 was presented if The critics voted it a failure. Marel- 
 li, the manager, saw that it was not strong enough 
 with which to storm the town, and so decided to aban- 
 don it if He liked the young composer, though, and ad- 
 mired his work : and inasmuch as he had brought him to 
 Milan, he felt a sort of obligation to help him along. 
 So Verdi was given an order for am opera bouffe. That 's 
 it ! Opera bouffe ! — ^the people want comedy — they 
 must be amused. Even Verdi's serious work ran dan- 
 gerously close to farce — bouffe is the thing ! 
 Marelli's hope was infectious. Verdi began work on 
 the new play that was to be presented in the spring. 
 if The winter rains began. There was no fire in the 
 garret where the composer and his frail girl-wife lived. 
 They were so proud that they did aot let the folks at 
 
 89 
 
GIUSEPPE Busseto know where they were : even Marelli did not 
 VERDI know their place of abode iff Under an assumed name 
 Verdi got occasional work as underling in one of the 
 theatres, and also played the piano at a restaurant. 
 The wages thus earned were a pittance, but he maui- 
 aged to take home soup-bones that the baby -boy sucked 
 on as though they were nectsir. 
 
 Another baby was born that winter. The mother was 
 unattended, save by her husband — ^no other woman 
 was near. Verdi mzmaged to bring home scraps of food 
 by stealth from the restaurant where he played, but it 
 was not the kind that was needed. There was no 
 money to buy goat's milk for the new-born babe, and 
 the famishing mother, ever hopeful, assured the hus- 
 band it wasn't necessary — ^that the babe was doing 
 well if The child grew a-weary of this world before a 
 month had passed, and slept to wake no more. 
 But the opera bouffe was taking shape. It was rehearsed 
 and hummed by husband and wife together. They 
 went over it all again and again, and struck out and 
 added to. It was splendid work — subtle, excruciatingly 
 funny, and possessed a dash and go that would sweep 
 all carping criticism before it. 
 
 Food was still scarce, and there was no fuel even to 
 cook things ; but as there was nothing to cook, it really 
 made no difference. Spring was coming, — it was cold, 
 to be sure, but the buds were swelling on the trees in 
 the park. Verdi had seen them with his own eyes, and 
 he hastened home to tell his wife — Spring was coming 1 
 go 
 
The two-year-old boy did n't seem to thrive on soup- GIUSEPPE 
 bones. The father used to hold him in his arms at night VERDI 
 to warm the little form against his own body. He 
 awoke one morning to find the child cold and stiff. The 
 boy was dead <r if 
 
 The mother used to lie abed all day now. She was n't 
 ill, she said, — just tired ! She never looked so beauti- 
 ful to her husband. Two bright pink spots marked her 
 cheeks, and set off the alabaster of her complexion. 
 Her eyes glowed with such a light as Verdi had never 
 before seen if No, she was not ill, she protested this 
 again and again. She kept to her bed merely to be 
 warm ; and then if one did n't move around much, less 
 food was required — don't you see ? 
 Spring had come if The opera was being rehearsed. 
 The title of the play was ** Un Giornodi Regno." Ma- 
 relli said he thought it would be a success ; Verdi was 
 sure oi'Wif if 
 
 The night of presentation came if After the first act 
 Verdi ran across the street, leaped up the stairs, three 
 steps at a time, and reached the garret. The play was 
 a success. The worn woman there on her pallet, the 
 pale moonlight streaming in on her face, knew it would 
 be. She raised herself on her elbow and tried to call 
 **Viva Verdi!" But the cough cut her words short. 
 Verdi kissed her forehead, her hands, her hair, and 
 hurried back in time to see the curtain ascend on the 
 second act if This act went without either applause 
 or disapproval if Verdi ran home just to say that the 
 
 91 
 
GIUSEPPE audience was a trifle critical, but the play was all right 
 
 VERDI — it was a success ! He said he would remain at home 
 
 now, he would not go to hear the third and last act. 
 
 He would attend his wife until she got well and strong. 
 
 The play was a success ! 
 
 She prevailed upon him to leave her, and then come 
 back at the finale and tell her all about it. 
 He went away ^ i/f 
 
 When he returned he stumbled up the stairway and 
 slowly entered the door. 
 
 The last act had not been completed — the audience 
 
 had hissed the players from the stage ! 
 
 Upon the ashen face of her husband, the stricken 
 
 woman read all j^ She tried to smile jflf She 
 
 reached out one thin hand on which loosely 
 
 hung a marriage ring. The hand dropped 
 
 before he could reach it. The eyes 
 
 of the woman were closed, but 
 
 upon the long black lashes 
 
 glistened two big tears ^T 
 
 The spirit was brave, 
 
 but the body had 
 
 given up the 
 
 struggle. 
 
 9a 
 
HE calamities that had come 
 sweeping over Verdi well nigh 
 broke his proud heart. He was 
 only twenty-six, but he had had a 
 taste of life and found it bitter. 
 He lost interest in everything. All 
 ^ musical studies were abandoned, 
 his little excursions into science 
 went by default, and he was quite 
 content to bang the piano in a concert saloon for enough 
 to procure the bare necessaries of life. Suicide seemed 
 to present the best method of solving the problem, and 
 the various ways of shuffling off this mortal coil were 
 duly considered. Meanwhile he filled in the time read- 
 ing trashy novels — anything to forget time and place, 
 and lose self in poppy dreams of nothingness. 
 Two years of such blankness and blackness followed. 
 He was sure that the desire to create, to be, to do, 
 would never come again, — these were all of the past. 
 if One day on an idle stroll through the park he met 
 Marelli. As they walked along together Marelli took 
 from his pocket a book, the story of ** Nabucco," and 
 handing it to Verdi, asked him to look it over, and see if 
 he thought there was a chance to make an opera out of it. 
 if Verdi responded that he was not in the business of 
 w^riting operas — he had quit all such follies. He took 
 the volume, however, but neglected to look at it for 
 several days. At last he read the pages. He laid the 
 book down and began to pace the floor. Possibilities 
 
 93 
 
 GIUSEPPE 
 VERDI 
 
GIUSEPPE of creation were looming large before him— a rush of 
 VERDI thought was upon him. His soul was not dead — it had 
 only been lying fallow. 
 
 He secured the loan of a piano and set to work. In a 
 month the opera was completed. Marelli hesitated 
 about accepting it — twice he had lost money on Verdi. 
 He finally decided he would put the play on if Verdi 
 would waive all royalties for the first three perform- 
 ances, if it were a success, and then sell the opera out- 
 right ** at a reasonable price,*' if Marelli should chance 
 to want it. The "reasonable price" was assumed to 
 be about a thousand francs — two hundred dollars- 
 pretty good pay for a month's work. 
 Verdi took no interest in the production of the piece. 
 He had come to the conclusion that the public was a 
 fickle, foolish thing, and no one could tell what it would 
 applaud or hiss. Then he remembered the blackness of 
 the night when only two years before his other opera 
 was produced 4f ^T 
 He made his way to his dingy little room and went to 
 
 bed jTjT 
 
 Very early the next morning there was a loud pound- 
 ing on his door. It was Marelli. " How much for your 
 opera?" asked the impresario, pushing his way into 
 the room jC 
 
 " Thirty thousand francs," came a voice, loud & clear, 
 out of the bed-clothes. 
 
 " Don't be a fool," returned Marelli — *' why do you 
 ask such a suml" 
 94 
 
Because you are here at five o'clock in the morning GIUSEPPE 
 
 -the price will be fifty thousand this afternoon. 
 
 Ten minutes of parley followed, and then 
 
 Marelli drew his check for twenty 
 
 thousand francs, and Verdi gave 
 
 his quit-claim, turned over, 
 
 and went to sleep. 
 
 VERDI 
 
 95 
 
GIUSEPPE 
 VERDI 
 
 -TTHE success of "Nabucco*' was 
 complete. Its author had his twen- 
 ty thousand francs, but Marelli 
 made more than that iff 
 From 1842 to 1851 may be called 
 the first Verdi Period. A dozen 
 ^^355(j%m successful operas were produced, 
 $5^S[^4|j^ ; and simultaneously at Rome, Na- 
 ^"l* ..^..-^^fJJ pies, Venice, Florence, Milan, and 
 Genoa, Verdi's compositions were being presented. 
 The master was a business man, as well as an artist, — 
 the combination is not so unusual as was long believed 
 — and knew how to get the most for the mintage of his 
 mind. Money fairly flowed his way. 
 In 1850 Verdi married again. His life now turns into 
 what we may call the Second Verdi Period. After this 
 we shall see no more such curious exhibitions of bad 
 taste as a ballet of forty witches in ** Macbeth," caper- 
 ing nimbly to a syncopated melody, with ** Lady Mac- 
 beth " in a needlessly abbreviated skirt singing a drink- 
 ing song to an absent lover. In strenuous efforts to 
 avoid coarseness Verdi may occasionally give us soft 
 sentimentality, but the change is for the best. 
 His mate was a woman of mind as well as heart. She 
 was his intellectual companion, his friend, his wife. 
 For nearly fifty years they lived together. Her dust 
 now lies in the " House of Rest,'* at Milan, a home 
 for aged artists, founded by Verdi. This ** House of 
 Rest" was a Love Offering, dedicated to the woman 
 96 
 
who had given him, without stint, of the richness of GIUSEPPE 
 her nature ; who had bestowed rest, and peace, and VERDI 
 hope and gentle love. She had no feverish ambitions 
 and petty plans and schemes for secretly corralling 
 pleasure, power, place, attention, or selfish admira- 
 tion. By giving all, she won all. She devoted herself to 
 this man in whom she had perfect faith, and he had 
 perfect faith in her. She ministered to him. They grew 
 great together. When each was over eighty years of 
 age, Henry James saw them at Cremona, at a musical 
 festival in honor of the birthday of Stradivarius. And 
 thus wrote Henry James : ** Verdi and his wife were 
 there, admired above all others. And why not? Think 
 of whom they are, and what they stand for — nearly a 
 century of music, and a century of life ! The master is 
 tall, straight, proud, commanding. He has a courtly old- 
 time grace of bearing; and he kissed his wife's hand 
 when he took leave of her for an hour's stroll. And 
 the Madame surely is not old in spirit ; she is as 
 sprightly as our own Mrs. John Sherwood, who 
 translated * Carcasonne ' so well that she 
 improved on the original, because in 
 her heart spring fresh and fra- 
 grant every day the flow- 
 ers of tender, human, 
 
 God-like sympathy." . 
 
 97 
 
GIUSEPPE UMPHRBBHIGOLETTA, produced at Venice 
 VERDI lmS5K?^€ittM in 1851, is founded on Victor Hu- 
 go's **Le Roi s'amuse;" and the 
 music has all the dramatic fire that 
 matches the Hugo plot. Verdi's 
 devotion to Victor Hugo is seen 
 again in the use of ** Hernani ** for 
 operatic purposes. ** II Trovatore " 
 and**LaTraviata" followed " Rig- 
 oletta," and these three operas are usually put forward 
 as the Verdi masterpieces. The composer himself re- 
 garded them with favor that may well be pardoned, 
 since he used to say that he and his wife collaborated 
 in their production — she writing the music and he 
 looking on. The proportion of truth and poetry in this 
 statement is not on record. But the simple fact re- 
 mains that ** II Trovatore " was always a favorite with 
 Verdi, and even down to his death he would travel 
 long distances to hear it played. A correspondent of the 
 "Musical Courier," writing in 1887 from Paris, says: 
 " Verdi and his wife occupied a box last evening at the 
 Grand Opera House. The piece was * II Trovatore,* 
 and many smiles were caused by the sight of the au- 
 thor and his spouse seemingly leading the claque as if 
 they would split their gloves." 
 
 The flaming forth of creative genius that produced the 
 " Rigoletta," " II Trovatore," and «* La Traviata," sub- 
 sided into a placid calm. The serene happiness of Verdi's 
 married life, the fortune that had come to him, and the 
 98 
 
consciousness of having won in spite of great obsta- GIUSEPPE 
 cles, led to the thought of quiet and well-earned rest. VERDI 
 if The master interested himself in politics, and was 
 elected to represent the district of Parma in the Ital- 
 ian Parliament. He proved himself a man of power — 
 practical, self-centered and business-like, and as such 
 served his country well. 
 
 The sentiment of the man is shown in his buying the 
 property at Busseto, his old home, which was owned 
 by Signior Barezzi. He removed the high picket fence, 
 replacing it with a low stone wall ; remodeled the 
 house, and turned the conservatory into a small thea- 
 tre, where free concerts were often given with the 
 help of the villagers. The adjoining grounds and splen- 
 did park were free to the public. 
 
 The master's attention to music was now limited to 
 enjoying it if So passed the days. 
 Ten years of the life of a country gentleman went by, 
 and the Shah of Persia, who had been on a visit to 
 Italy and met Verdi, sent a command for an opera. 
 The plot must be laid in the East, the characters Moor- 
 ish and the whole to be dedicated to the immortal Son 
 of the Sun, — ^the Shah. 
 
 It is a little doubtful whether the Shah knew that operas 
 are produced only in certain moods, and cannot be 
 done to order as a carpenter builds a fence. But it was 
 the way that Eastern Royalty had of showing its high 
 esteem if if 
 
 Verdi smiled, and his wife smiled, and they had quite a 
 
 99 
 
GIUSEPPE merry little time over the matter, calling in the neigh- 
 VERDI bors and friends, and drinking to the health of a real live 
 Shah who knew a great musical genius when he found 
 one. But suddenly the matter began to take form in 
 the master's mind. He set to work, and the result was 
 that **Aida" was completed in a few weeks. The 
 stories often told of the long preparation for compos- 
 ing this opera reveal the fine imagination of the men 
 who write for the newspapers. Verdi seized upon 
 knowledge as a devil-fish absorbs its prey — he learned 
 in the mass if if 
 
 " Aida" was produced at Cairo in 1871 with a magnifi- 
 cent setting, and the best cast procurable. A new Verdi 
 opera was an event, and critics went from London, 
 Paris, and other capitals to see the performance. 
 The first thing the knowing ones said was that Verdi 
 was touched with Wagnerism, and that he had stud- 
 ied ** Lohengrin " with painstaking care. If Verdi was 
 influenced by Wagner, it was for good ; but there was 
 no servile imitation in it. The *' Aida" is rich in melo- 
 dy, reveals a fine balance between singers and orches- 
 tra, and the "local color" is correct even to the chorus 
 of Congo slaves that were introduced at the Cairo per- 
 formance if if 
 
 All agreed that the rest had done the master good, and 
 the correspondents wrote, *< We will look anxiously 
 for his next." They thought the stream had started 
 and there would be an overflow. 
 
 But they were mistaken. Sixteen years of quiet farm- 
 zoo 
 
ing followed. Verdi was more interested in his flowers GIUSEPPE 
 than his music, and told Philip Hale, who made a pious VERDI 
 pilgrimage to Busseto in 1883, that he loved his horses 
 more than all the prima donnas on earth. 
 But in 1887 the artistic and music-loving worid was 
 surprised and delighted with ** Othello." This grand 
 performance made amends for the mangling of Mac- 
 beth. Mr. James Hunekersays: "The character-draw- 
 ing in Othello is done with the burin of a master ; the 
 plot moves in processional splendor ; the musical psy- 
 chology is subtle and inevitable. At last the genius of 
 Verdi has flowered. The work is consummate and 
 complete" <r ^ 
 
 ** Falstaff " came next, written by a greybeard of eighty, 
 as if just to prove that the heart does not grow old. It 
 is the work of an octogenarian who loved life and had 
 seen the world of show and sense from every side. 
 Old men usually moralize and live in the past — not so 
 here. The play flows with a laughing, joyous, rippling 
 quality that disarmed the critics and they apologized for 
 what they said about "Wagnerian motives. There 
 were no sad, solemn, recurring themes in 
 the full ripened fruit of Verdi's genius. 
 When he died, aged eighty-seven, 
 the curtain fell on the career of 
 a great and potent personal- 
 ity — the one unique sing- 
 er of the century. 
 
 zoz 
 
so HERE ENDETH THE LITTLE JOURNEY TO THE 
 HOME OF GIUSEPPE VERDI, AS WRITTEN BY ELBERT 
 HUBBARD, THE TITLE PAGE, INITIALS AND ORNA- 
 MENTS BEING DESIGNED BY SAMUEL WARNER, AND 
 THE WHOLE DONE INTO A BOOKLET BY THE ROY- 
 CROFTERS AT THEIR SHOP, WHICH IS IN EAST AURO- 
 RA. IN THE MONTH OF OCTOBER IN THE YEAR MCMI. 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THEi LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS 
 
 WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN 
 THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY 
 WILL INCREASE TO 50 CENTS ON THE FOURTH 
 DAY AND TO $1.00 ON THE SEVENTH DAY 
 OVERDUE. 
 
 MAR 24 1933 
 
 
 WAR 21 1936 
 
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 APR m wn 
 
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 MAY 6 ba4 
 
 
 
 LD 21-50m-l,'33 
 
DATE DUE 
 
 S 
 
 Music Library Si 
 
 University of California at 
 Berkeley