audiences than the theatre has known for many a long day. Il caro
Sassone receives more applause than the vocalists. Antonio has
attended three consecutive performances in San Giovanni Gristostomo
and it is still beyond him why the public is reacting with such
uncharacteristically delirious delight. Usually the theatre is the
scene for a series of tableaux with the audience at centre stage
rather than anything taking place on the podium. Now instead
everyone seems to be completely carried away with the
performance; the curtains are even pulled back on the boxes and
there are people hanging over the balustrades to listen. There is
hardly any swearing in the hall, almost no gossiping and nobody is
spitting over the balcony on the heads of those below. If anyone
does venture to talk during the performance, their neighbour
swiftly silences them. Only during the short pauses after an aria
does the hall fill with uproar. A unanimous cry goes up of ‘Viva il
caro Sassone!’ and the foot-stamping audience thus sends its
approbation thundering through the hall like a horde of wild boar
under fire. And why? In God’s name, what’s it all about? For the life
of him, Vivaldi cannot find a reason. The music carries Roman
elements, a whiff of Naples, of Corelli and Scarlatti. But of course,
Scarlatti! Antonio has heard that Haendel is a friend of Domenico,
one of the sons of Alessandro Scarlatti. But once having set aside
his feelings of jealousy enough on the third evening to really listen
properly, he discerns something else. Is that German? He allows
the melody to imprint itself upon his memory so that he can play it
later to his father.
Antonio has become more than ever convinced of the
profits to be made from opera. It is rumoured that Haendel has
received two hundred ducats for this performance. Imagine! Four
times the priest’s annual salary from the Pietà! For a production
lasting less than a month.
A plan is slowly ripening in his mind. Might opera offer a
way out of his difficulties? If he could only see a chance to write a
successful score, he’d be made. His name would be established and
scritture, commissions for new operas, would come pouring in. But
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