“I lived at that time in a small and modest apartment in the neighbourhood of the Porta Ticinese, and I had my little family with me, that is to say my young wife and our two little children.  I had hardly begun my work when I fell seriously ill of a throat complaint, which compelled me to keep my bed for a long time.  I was beginning to be convalescent, when I remembered that the rent, for which I wanted fifty ecus, would become due in a few days.  At that time if such a sum was of importance to me, it was no very serious matter; but my painful illness had not allowed me to provide it in time, and the state of communications with Busseto (in those days the post only went twice a week) did not leave me the opportunity of writing to my excellent father-in-law Barezzi to enable him to send the necessary funds.  I wished, whatever trouble it might give to me, to pay my lodging on the day fixed, and although much annoyed at being obliged to have recourse to a third person, I nevertheless decided to beg the engineer Pasetti to ask Merelli on my behalf for the fifty ecus which I wanted, either in the form of an advance under the conditions of my contract, or by way of loan for eight or ten days, that is to say the time necessary for writing to Busseto and receiving the said sum.

“It is useless to relate here how it came about that Merelli, without any fault on his part, did not advance me the fifty ecus in question.  Nevertheless, I was much distressed at letting the rent day of the lodgings go by.  My wife then, seeing my annoyance, took a few articles of jewelry which she possessed, and succeeded, I know not how, in getting together the sum necessary, and brought it to me.  I was deeply touched at this proof of affection, and promised myself to return them all to her, which, happily, I was able to do with little difficulty, thanks to my agreement.

“But now began for me the greatest misfortunes.  My ‘bambino’ fell ill at the beginning of April, the doctors were unable to discover the cause of his ailment, and the poor little thing, fading away, expired in the arms of his mother, who was beside herself with despair.  That was not all.  A few days after my little daughter fell ill in turn, and her complaint also terminated fatally.  But this even was not all.  Early in June my young companion herself was attacked by acute brain fever, and on the 19th of June, 1840, a third coffin was carried from my house.

“I was alone!—­alone!  In the space of about two months, three loved ones had disappeared for ever.  I had no longer a family.  And, in the midst of this terrible anguish, to avoid breaking the engagement I had contracted, I was compelled to write and finish a comic opera!

“‘Un Giorno di Regno’ did not succeed.  A share of the want of success certainly belongs to the music, but part must also be attributed to the performance.  My soul, rent by the misfortunes which had overwhelmed me, my spirit, soured by the failure of the opera, I persuaded myself that I should no longer find consolation in art, and formed the resolution to compose no more!  I even wrote to the engineer Pasetti (who since the fiasco of ‘Un Giorno di Regno’ had shown no signs of life) to beg him to obtain from Merelli the cancelling of my contract.”