profligate character of its principal seemed too baldly to exploit the
behaviour of Francis I, its production was suppressed. Then Verdi
adjusted the matter by turning the character into the Duke of Mantua,
and everybody was happy.

The story of the famous song "La Donna e Mobile," is as picturesque as
Verdi himself. While the rehearsals of the opera were going on,
Mirate, who sang the Duke, continued to complain that he hadn't the
MS. of one of his songs. Verdi kept putting him off, till the evening
before the orchestral rehearsal, when he brought forth the lines; but
at the same time he demanded a promise that Mirate--nor indeed any of
the singers--should not hum or whistle the air till it should be heard
at the first performance. This signified Verdi's belief that the song
would instantly become a universal favourite. The faith was justified.
The whole country went "La Donna" mad.

"Il Trovatore" came next in this second period of the great composer's
fame, and we read that "Nearly half a century has sped since Verdi's
twelfth opera was first sung of a certain winter evening in Rome." Out
of the chaff of Italian opera comes this wheat, satisfying to the
generation of to-day, as it was to that first audience in Rome. We do
not even know any longer why we love it, because in most ways it
violates new and better rules of musical art, but we love it. Helen
Keyes has written that "the libretto of 'Il Trovatore' is based on a
Spanish drama written in superb verse by a contemporary of Verdi's,
Antonio Garcia Gutierrez," and she relates a romantic story in
connection with the Spanish play; the author was but seventeen years
old when he wrote it and had been called to military duty, which was
dreaded by one of his temperament. But his drama being staged at that
moment, the authorities permitted him to furnish a substitute on the
ground that such genius could best serve its country by remaining at
home to contribute to its country's art.

At the time the opera was produced in Rome, the Tiber had overflowed
its banks and had flooded all the streets near the theatre;
nevertheless people were content to stand knee-deep in water at the
box office, waiting their turn for tickets.

So great had Verdi become in a night, by this presentation, that his
rivals formed a cabal which prevented the production of "Il Trovatore"
in Naples for a time, but in the end the opera and Verdi prevailed.

Now came "Traviata,"--third in that tim