Opera, Jealousy, And Knives In The Dark

Illustrated portrait of opera singer Giovanni Battista Rubini

RUBINI.— At Palermo (while still under engagements to Barbaja, the Neapolitan manager) he was the hero of an adventure nearly as romantic, but not so tragical, as the celebrated story of Stradella. On his arrival at Palermo he waited on a lady of very high rank, to whom he had letters of introduction, and who received him with the kindness and distinction due to his genius and agreeable manners. In the evening, when he appeared on the stage, Rubini made a respectful inclination to his fair patroness, who was in her box—an act which, though dictated simply by respect and gratitude, roused the vindictive jealousy of a Sicilian husband. On quitting the theatre, the presumptuous singer found himself suddenly in the hands of a couple of bravos, who seized his arms, muffled his head in a cloak, and began to drag him towards the beach, intending (according to custom in such cases) to stab him, and get rid of his body by throwing it into the sea. The unfortunate tenor gave himself up for lost; he could not call out, and, if he had, such outcries would have attracted little notice in Sicily. Luckily for him, however, he was recognised by one of the bravos. In those parts of the world a murderer may be a man of taste and vertù. Such, fortunately, was the worthy who had Rubini in his grasp. He was a musical amateur, to whom Rubini had sometimes given orders for the opera. He could not hurt his favourite artist; and, instead of using his stiletto, he told Rubini of the danger he had run, set him at liberty, and advised him to get out of Sicily as fast as possible—an advice which, as may be supposed, was promptly followed.— Mainzer’s Musical Times.

The Illustrated London News, London, England, Week Ending October 1, 1842