Veritas (Atto Melani) by Rita Monaldi, Francesco Sorti Page B

preacher, the late Pater Abraham from Sancta Clara), and as they emerged they had been saluted by a triple volley of musket-fire. This had created a great
stir: never before had His Majesty spent Easter with the Nuncio.
    And so, to seal the happy re-establishment of relations with the Holy See, and the resolution of the Comacchio dispute, it had been decided that an oratorio should be performed immediately after
Easter, in the Roman fashion, with all the trappings of scenery, costumes and action, as in the rite of the Holy Sepulchre; this marked a break with the tradition of the Caesarean court, which only
called for oratorios in Lent and without any stage scenery.
    Camilla had therefore been entrusted with the task of preparing an Italian oratorio, which would be symbolically attended by Joseph and the Nuncio Davia, representing His Holiness, sitting side
by side.
    Although no one in the court had said so explicitly, Camilla knew perfectly well that the aim of her work was far more political than musical. The
Sant’ Alessio
, which in 1710 had
proved so successful with numerous noblemen and people of fine perception, would be repeated this year in the Most August Chapel of His Caesarean Majesty for the ears of the Nuncio. All eyes would
be on her; the Chormaisterin had set to work with a will, urgently recruiting singers and musicians from the previous year, personally choosing the replacements for those she had been unable to
hire again, making sure that the ornaments of the chapel were suitable, that the musical instruments were of the finest, and making fresh copies of orchestral scores that had become faded or
crumpled.
    Believe it or not, in this delicate operation I myself, humble chimney-sweep, had a part to play. The oratorio required the presence of some children as extras, but it was not easy to find
families willing to let their offspring out of the house at that late hour. Camilla had therefore asked us to help replenish her troop of children; given my slight stature, we were able to supply
her with not just one extra, but two.
    And so, in the solemn setting of the Caesarean chapel, almost every evening we attended the rehearsals of the
Sant’ Alessio
, taking part when necessary in the scenes of action,
and, when our participation was not required, quietly observing the orchestra players and singers as they rehearsed.
    It was like being reborn into the world of singing: in my whole life I had never listened to anything other than the voice of Atto Melani singing the notes of his old master, Seigneur Luigi. By
some strange quirk of fate what I was now listening to were not the arias of Luigi Rossi but those of a de’ Rossi, Camilla; almost the same surname, which was now indissolubly linked in my
mind to the idea of singing.
    Among the motley crew of orchestra musicians, many of them well established in court circles, my little boy and I, although a little nervous on account of our ignorance of the Euterpean art,
could now boast a few acquaintances. Every evening we were greeted with respect and friendly remarks by the theorbist Francesco Conti, who played several parts as soloist in
Sant’
Alessio
; by Conti’s wife, the soprano Maria Landini, known as the Landina, who sang the role of Alessio’s betrothed; by the tenor Carlo Costa, who played Alessio’s father in
the oratorio; and finally by Carlo Agostino Ziani,
vice-maestro
of the imperial chapel and by Silvio Stampiglia, court poet, both of whom had a high regard for Camilla de’
Rossi’s music and often came to listen to the rehearsals of the oratorio.
    With such high-ranking personages, who bestowed their benevolence upon us precisely because they knew us to be friends of the Chormaisterin, we could, of course, only have fleeting contacts. The
only one who would engage in conversations of any length was a singer – an Italian, like most musicians in Vienna. His name was Gaetano Orsini, and he played the leading role in the