

'They are coming along well and there are really eleven of them.' The conductor responded. Some days passed, when, one morning at the Tettucio Spring Verdi inquired, 'How are your eleven bells getting along, my dear Mugnone? I believe there are eleven‹am I right?' Really eleven, you may be sure of it.'The old composer left Mugnone, murmuring as he went 'Eleven! Eleven! Per Bacco! It seems incredible.' Verdi gave a start of astonishment and exclaimed, 'Eleven bells! Impossible!' 'They will be used in the third act, which pictures the awakening of Rome with the chimes of the various churches, and there are eleven of them.' 'What's that? The bells of Tosca? How many bells are there and what are they used for?' 'Why, Maestro,' said Mugnone, 'I go there to supervise the casting of the bells for Tosca, Puccini's new opera, which will be given this winter and which I shall conduct.' One day, Verdi asked him why he had been going so much to the neighboring town of Pistoia. Mugnone, a raconteur of color and warmth, as a true Neapolitan should be, told me that in the summer of 1899 he was at the Springs of Montecatini at the same time as Verdi. In his Memories of the Opera the famous impresario Giulio Gatti-Casazza wrote: "The celebrated orchestral leader, Leopoldo Mugnone, was an intimate friend of the Great Maestro.
