Who shall define a triumph? The first night of Italian opera in London, Mme. Toti dal Monte swelled her ample bosom to emit the titular notes of Lucia di Lammermoor. Diffident boxes whacked their hands red. "A triumph," said the press next morning, meaning that Toti dal Monte had covered the work with her usual capability.
Another night, the Bow Street police station over the way from Covent Garden had a telephone call. Reserves, please; the crowd was getting burly. Twenty-five shilling seats ($6) had brought ten guineas ($50). People had heard...
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