the enterprise on its feet, and had run in debt nineteen
thousand pounds. He made his first appearance
at the Lincoln’s Inn Opera in “Artaserse,”
one of Hasse’s operas. Several of the songs,
however, were composed by Riccardo Broschi, the singer’s
brother, especially for him, and these interpolations
illustrated the powers of Farinelli in the most effective
manner. In one of these the first note was taken
with such delicacy, swelled by minute degrees to such
an amazing volume, and afterward diminished in the
same manner to a mere point, that it was applauded
for full five minutes. Afterward he set off with
such brilliance and rapidity of execution that the
violins could not keep pace with him. An incident
commemorated in Hogarth’s “Rake’s
Progress” occurred at this time, A lady of rank,
carried beyond herself by admiration of the great singer,
leaned out of her box and exclaimed, “One God
and one Farinelli!” The great power of this
singer’s art is also happily set forth in the
following anecdote: He was to appear for the
first time with Senesino, another great singer, who
of course was jealous of Farinelli’s unequaled
renown. The former had the part of a fierce tyrant,
and Farinelli that of a hero in chains. But in
the course of the first song by his rival, Senesino
forgot his assumed part altogether. He was so
moved and delighted that, in front of an immense audience,
he rushed forward, clasped Farinelli in his arms,
and burst into tears. Never had there been such
a ferment among English patrons of opera as was made
by Farinelli’s singing. The Prince of Wales
gave him a gold snuff-box set with diamonds and rubies,
in which were inclosed diamond knee-buckles, and a
purse of one hundred guineas. The courtiers and
nobles followed in the wake of the Prince, and the
costliest offerings were lavished on this spoiled favorite
of art. His income during three years in London
was five thousand pounds a year, to which must be
added quite as much more in gratuities and presents
of different kinds. On his return to Italy he
built a splendid mansion, which he christened the
“English Folly.”
Farinelli’s Spanish life was the most important
episode in his career, if twenty-five years of experience
may be called an episode. His purpose in visiting
Madrid in 1736 was to spend but a few months; but he
arrived in the Spanish capital at a critical moment,
and Fate decreed that he should take up a long residence
here—a residence marked by circumstances
and honors without parallel in the life of any other
singer. Philip V. at this time was such a prey
to depression that he neglected all the affairs of
his kingdom. “When Farinelli arrived, the
Queen arranged a concert at which the monarch could
hear the great singer without being seen. The
effect was remarkable, and Farinelli gained the respect,
admiration, and favor of the whole court. When
he was asked by the grateful monarch to name his own
reward, he answered that his best recompense would