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 the Venetian beauty, in consequence of her lovely face and figure. To such an extravagant pitch was the spirit of rivalry carried, that Lady Walpole (Horace Walpole tells us), having the sirens at her house to sing at a concert, at which was present an assemblage of the first persons in the kingdom, had the greatest difficulty to settle their precedence: one would not yield to the other. Finding it impossible to induce either to sing while the other was present, she took Faustina to a remote part of the mansion, under the pretext of showing her some curious china; meanwhile the company obtained an aria from Cuzzoni, who rejoiced in the idea that Faustina had fled discomfited. A similar device was practiced in order to decoy Cuzzoni from the room while Faustina sang.

At first they behaved with tolerable civility toward each other, though this very soon wore off. Sir Robert Walpole having declared for Faustina, his lady, in order that Cuzzoni might not be borne down by his indifference to her talents, patronized her; and when Sir Robert was from home she used to invite both to dinner. She was at first perplexed how to arrange the precedence for them at her table, but they relieved her embarrassment by polite mutual concessions. Matters at last came to a climax. On the 20th of June 1727, there was a brilliant assemblage of rank, beauty, and fashion in the Opera House, and the Princess Caroline honored the theatre with her presence that evening. The two prime donne were to appear together, and the partisans of each eagerly awaited the rising of the curtain. On their appearance there was a storm of mingled hisses and clapping of hands, which speedily swelled into a hurricane of catcalls, shrieking, and stamping; the uproar was terrific, and not the slightest deference was paid to the presence of the princess. The following morning an account appeared in the London Journal which must have astonished the loungers in coffee-houses. Epigrams, lampoons, libels, and duels followed each other in rapid succession, and the town was in a ferment.

This riot led to the rival singers abandoning their intrenchment of feigned politeness, and one night they so far forgot themselves as to come to blows, the by-standers being unable to separate them until they had left sanguinary marks of their hostility on each other's faces. A farce called Contretemps; or, the Rival Queens, was performed at Heidegger's private