Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1903-11-14
1T WAS the third day of the carni-
val ut Milan, In the year 1885.


~ Donizetti's immortal masterpiece,
,,c,a di Lammermoor, had been per-
sormed for the first time at the San
Carlo. In Naples, few months previ-
ans. and was then making Its trium-
nbal tour through Italy.
Then genius Of Bergamo's sweet bard
had attained its eliminating point
Ito great aria and the stupendous
msgnifcence OF the septet had cleo
trfed the entire musical world; even
the star of Rossini was eclipsed by
the incredible success of the younger
composer.
Milan was in an uproar; the streets,
squares, and arcades were illuminated
giorno; the cathedral in marble
majesty glittered beneath the glare
of innumerable lanterns, while the
Joyous laughter of sixty thousand
pleasure-seekers made the old mar.
row streets ring and echo again, and
the Scala, Italys greatest opera house,
ablaze with glory, had placed before
the entrance, in letters of flame, the
magic word Lucia.
No wonder the crowd fastened
thither; for eighty lire you could not
have obtained a seat 1t was the
third representation only, and fame,
beauty, or gold could not have forced
an entrance. 1t was six o'clock the
pit and gallery boxes and stalls Of the
immense theater were crowded to suf-
location. Four thousand eager people
-four thousand anxious, soulful Ital-
ians-were waiting with subdued
frenzy for the curtain to rise.
The nobility Of Lombardy graced
the boxes, the political celebrities OF
the city crowded the passages, all the
elite Of the art-loving town had flock
ed thither.
The heat was sitting; at half-past
six the overture began. The immense
.throng was silenced at the first wave
of the conductors baton. Was it not
to hear the last and most admiral BILE OF
Donizetti's operas? Had not the
Neapolitan papers been devoured with
avid eyes? Was 1t not to hear the
song over which Italy was raving?
And last, but not least, was 1t not to
applaud the beauteous prima donna,
Altieri, who had achieved such
colossal success the two previous
nights?-their favorite-their idol-the
divine Alheri! who had sung for seven
consecutive seasons in Milan, alike
renowned for her consummate art,
her beauty, and her unrivaled voice!
How the audience was moved! how 1t
tembled with expectant ecstasy!
The curtain rose at last.
The hunters chorus was listened
to with religious attention; the bari
tones song and cabaletta which follow
caused but slight impression in spite
of their verita BILE excellence, and the
shifting Of the scene to the park where
Lucia makes her first appearance was
welcomed with a hushed murmur of
delight.
A frail, white-robed female form
advanced toward the footlights, her
eyes were cast down, and she moved
slowly near the prompter's box. There
she stood still, raised her eyes and
gazed full upon the audience.
A howl of disappointment arose
from the house: Its not Alferi"
The cry was echoed on all sides;
groans, Kissing, and stamping of feet
drowned the orchestra.
of! off! Alferi! Alfieri'
The woman, confronting that audi
ence, not In the least disconnected,
walked leisurely around the stage A
man peeped out from the side-scenes.
1t was the NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. and
disturbed.
"Who is that woman7 1t is not
Alferi!''
mo one knows-no one saw her en-
ter"
Again the conductor raised his
baton; the unknown prima donna seem
ed to rouse herself from her pensive
iethargy, and moved solemnly to the
center Of the stage.
The clamor had ceased.
She raised her eyes to the level Of
the first tier, and stood In the full
force Of the light. She was won
drously beautiful, but white-white as
snow; deathly, specially white; not
tnge Of rose enhanced the marble
graces of her face, which was purely,
faultlessly Greek.
Her eyes, black and radiant fash
ed luridly. When she dropped them
their tint became sad. gray, and
crepuscular. Her lips shone red as YER
million, and seemed like a gash-like
: hideous gash-when contrasted with
the whiteness and rigidity of her face.
Her hair, long and purplish, in I'M