Let Stendhall, Rossini’s biographer, tell the rest of the story:  “The audience was delighted as usual with the first act, and all went well till the third, when, the passage of the Red Sea being at hand, the audience as usual prepared to be amused.  The laughter was just beginning in the pit, when it was observed that Moses was about to sing.  He began his solo, the first verse of a prayer, which all the people repeat in chorus after Moses.  Surprised at this novelty, the pit listened and the laughter entirely ceased.  The chorus, exceedingly fine, was in the minor.  Aaron continues, followed by the people.  Finally, Eleia addresses to Heaven the same supplication, and the people respond.  Then all fall on their knees and repeat the prayer with enthusiasm; the miracle is performed, the sea is opened to leave a path for the people protected by the Lord.  This last part is in the major.  It is impossible to imagine the thunders of applause that resounded through the house:  one would have thought it was coming down.  The spectators in the boxes, standing up and leaning over, called out at the top of their voices, ’Bello, bello!  O che hello!’, I never saw so much enthusiasm nor such a complete success, which was so much the greater, inasmuch as the people were quite prepared to laugh....  I am almost in tears when I think of this prayer.  This state of things lasted a long time, and one of its effects was to make for its composer the reputation of an assassin, for Dr. Cottogna is said to have remarked:  ’I can cite to you more than forty attacks of nervous fever or violent convulsions on the part of young women, fond to excess of music, which have no other origin than the prayer of the Hebrews in the third act, with its superb change of key.’” Thus by a stroke of genius, a scene which first impressed the audience as a piece of theatrical burlesque, was raised to sublimity by the solemn music written for it.

M. Bochsa some years afterward produced “Mose” as an oratorio in London, and it failed.  A new libretto, however, “Pietro L’Eremito,"* again transformed the music into an opera.

     * The same music was set to a poem founded on the first
     crusade, all the most effective situations being
     dramatically utilized for the Christian legend.

Ebers tells us that Lord Sefton, a distinguished connoisseur, only pronounced the general verdict in calling it the greatest of serious operas, for it was received with the greatest favor.  A gentleman of high rank was not satisfied with assuring the manager that he had deserved well of his country, but avowed his determination to propose him for membership at the most exclusive of aristocratic clubs—­White’s.

“La Donna del Lago,” Rossini’s next great work, also first produced at the San Carlo during the Carnival of 1820, though splendidly performed, did not succeed well the first night.  The composer left Naples the same night for Milan, and coolly informed every one en route that the opera was very successful, which proved to be true when he reached his journey’s end, for the Neapolitans on the second night reversed their decision into an enthusiasm as marked as their coldness had been.