onditions as the career
of Rubini afforded. He ruled the stage by the mere art of singing more
completely than any one--man or woman--has been able to do in my time."
Rubini died in 1852, and left behind him one of the largest fortunes
ever amassed on the stage.

Another member of the celebrated "Puritani" quartet was Signor
Tamburini. His voice was a bass in quality, with a barytone range of two
octaves, from F to F, rich, sweet, extensive, and even. His powers of
execution were great, and the flexibility with which he used his voice
could only be likened to the facility of a skillful 'cello performer. He
combined largeness of style, truth of accent, florid embellishment,
and solidity. His acting, alike in tragedy and comedy, was spirited
and judicious, though it lacked the irresistible strokes of spontaneous
genius, the flashes of passion, or rich drollery which made Lablache so
grand an actor, or, in a later time, redeemed the vocal imperfections of
Ronconi. An amusing instance of Taniburini's vocal skill and wealth of
artistic resources, displayed in his youth, was highly characteristic of
the man. He was engaged at Palermo during the Carnival season of 1822,
and on the last night the audience attended the theatre, inspired by the
most riotous spirit of carnivalesque revelry. Large numbers of them
came armed with drums, trumpets, shovels, tin pans, and other charivari
instruments. Tamburini, finding himself utterly unable to make his
ordinary _basso cantante_ tones heard amid this Saturnalian din,
determined to sing his music in the falsetto, and so he commenced in the
voice of a _soprano sfogato_. The audience were so amazed that they
laid aside their implements of musical torture, and began to listen with
amazement, which quickly changed to delight. Taniburini's falsetto was
of such purity, so flexible and precise in florid execution, that he was
soon applauded enthusiastically. The cream of the joke, though, was
yet to come. The poor prima donna was so enraged and disgusted by the
horse-play of the audience that she fled from the theatre, and the poor
manager was at his wit's end, for the humor of the people was such
that it was but a short step between rude humor and destructive rage.
Tamburini solved the problem ingeniously, for he donned the fugitive's
satin dress, clapped her bonnet over his wig, and appeared on the stage
with a mincing step, just as the rioters, impatient at the delay, were
about to carry th