At Night I Have No Doubt They All Fall Asleep, So That Three Or Four Active Banditti Might Come And Cut The Throats Of The Whole Chain Of Sentries In Detail.

30th October, 1818.

I have begun my course of water drinking at the fountain of Sta Lucia. Since I was here the last time, the theatre of St Carlo has been finished and I went to visit it the second night after my arrival. It is a noble theatre and of immense size, larger it is said than the Scala at Milan, tho' it does not appear so. The profusion of ornament and gilding serves to diminish the appearance of its magnitude. It is probably now the most magnificent theatre in Europe. The performance was Il Babiere di Siviglia by Rossini, and afterwards a superb Ballo taken closely from Coleman's Blue-Beard and arranged as a Ballo by Vestris. The only difference lies in the costume and the scenery; for here the Barbe Bleue, instead of being a Turkish Pacha, as in Coleman's piece, is a Chinese Mandarin, and the decorations are all Chinese. A great deal of Scotch music is introduced in this Ballo, and seems to give great satisfaction. At the little theatre of San Carlino I witnessed the representation of Rossini's Cenerentola, a most delightful piece. The young actress who did the part of Cenerentola acted it to perfection and sung so sweetly and correctly, that it would seem as if the role were composed on purpose for her. The part of Don Magnifico was extremely well played, and those of the sisters very fairly and appropriately. The three actresses who did the part of Cenerentola and her sisters, were all handsome, but she who did Cenerentola surpassed them all; she was a perfect beauty and a grace. I think the music of this opera would please the public taste in England. Rossini seems to have banished every other musical composer from the stage.

I have seen, at the Theatre of San Carlo, the Don Giovanni of Mozart; but certainly, after being accustomed to the extreme vivacity of Rossini's style, the music, even of the divine Mozart, appears to go off heavily. There is too much of what the French call musique de fanfares in the opera of Don Giovanni and I believe most of the Italians are of my way of thinking.

We have just heard of the death of the poor Princess Charlotte. I am no great admirer of Kings and Queens; and yet I must own, I could not help feeling regret for the death of this princess. I had formed a very high opinion of her, from many traits in her character; and I fancied and hoped that she was destined to redeem England from the degradation and bad odour into which she had been plunged by the borough-mongers and bureaucrats, engendered by the Pitt system. She had liberal ideas and an independent spirit. I really almost caught myself shedding tears at this event, and had she been buried here, I should have gone to scatter flowers upon her tomb:

Enter page number Go  Previous Next
Page 211 of 291
Words from 110339 to 110857 of 151859