I cannot take leave of Venice without saying something of the celebrated amusements of that city, or at least of the little part of them of which I partook during my residence there.It has been seen how little in my youth I ran after the pleasures of that age, or those that are so called.My inclinations did not change at Venice, but my occupations, which moreover would have prevented this, rendered more agreeable to me the simple recreations I permitted myself.The first and most pleasing of all was the society of men of merit.M.le Blond, de St.Cyr, Carrio Altuna, and a Porlinian gentleman, whose name Iam very sorry to have forgotten, and whom I never call to my recollection without emotion: he was the man of all I ever knew whose heart most resembled my own.We were connected with two or three Englishmen of great wit and information, and, like ourselves, passionately fond of music.All these gentlemen had their wives, female friends, or mistresses: the latter were most of them women of talents, at whose apartments there were balls and concerts.There was but little play; a lively turn, talents, and the theaters rendered this amusement insipid.Play is the resource of none but men whose time hangs heavy on their hands.I had brought with me from Paris the prejudice of that city against Italian music; but I had also received from nature a sensibility and niceness Of the distinction which prejudice cannot withstand.I soon contracted that passion for Italian music with which it inspires all those who are capable of feeling its excellence.In listening to barcaroles, I found I had not yet known what singing was, and I soon became so fond of the opera that, tired of babbling, eating, and playing in the boxes when Iwished to listen, I frequently withdrew from the company to another part of the theater.There, quite alone, shut up in my box, Iabandoned myself, notwithstanding the length of the representation, to the pleasure of enjoying it at ease unto the conclusion.One evening at the theater of Saint Chrysostom, I fell into a more profound sleep than I should have done in my bed.The loud and brilliant airs did not disturb my repose.But who can explain the delicious sensations given me by the soft harmony of the angelic music, by which I was charmed from sleep; what an awaking! what ravishment! what ecstasy, when at the same instant I opened my ears and eyes! My first idea was to believe I was in paradise.The ravishing air, which I still recollect and shall never forget, began with these words:
Conservami la bella, Che si m'accende il cor.
I was desirous of having it; I had and kept it for a time; but it was not the same thing upon paper as in my head.The notes were the same but the thing was different.This divine composition can never be executed but in my mind, in the same manner as it was the evening on which it awoke me from sleep.
A kind of music far superior, in my opinion, to that of operas, and which in all Italy has not its equal, nor perhaps in the whole world, is that of the scuole.The scuole are houses of charity, established for the education of young girls without fortune, to whom the republic afterwards gives a portion either in marriage or for the cloister.Amongst talents cultivated in these young girls, music is in the first rank.Every Sunday at the church of each of the four scuole, during vespers, motettos or anthems with full choruses, accompanied by a great orchestra, and composed and directed by the best masters in Italy, are sung in the galleries by girls only; not one of whom is more than twenty years of age.I have not an idea of anything so voluptuous and affecting as this music; the richness of the art, the exquisite taste of the vocal part, the excellence of the voices, the justness of the execution, everything in these delightful concerts concurs to produce an impression which certainly is not the mode, but from which I am of opinion no heart is secure.
Carrio and I never failed being present at these vespers of the Mendicanti, and we were not alone.The church was always full of the lovers of the art, and even the actors of the opera came there to form their tastes after these excellent models.What vexed me was the iron grate, which suffered nothing to escape but sounds, and concealed from me the angels of which they were worthy.I talked of nothing else.One day I spoke of it at Le Blond's: "If you are so desirous,"said he, "to see those little girls, it will be an easy matter to satisfy your wishes.I am one of the administrators of the house, Iwill give you a collation with them." I did not let him rest until he had fulfilled his promise.I entering the saloon, which contained these beauties I so much sighed to see, I felt a trembling of love which I had never before experienced M.le Blond presented to me, one after the other, these celebrated female singers, of whom the names and voices were all with which I was acquainted.Come, Sophia,- she was horrid.Come, Cattina,- she had but one eye.Come, Bettina,- the small-pox had entirely disfigured her.Scarcely one of them was without some striking defect.Le Blond laughed at my surprise; however, two or three of them appeared tolerable; these never sung but in the choruses; I was almost in despair.During the collation we endeavored to excite them, and they soon became enlivened; ugliness does not exclude the graces, and I found they possessed them.I said to myself, they cannot sing in this manner without intelligence and sensibility, they must have both; in fine, my manner of seeing them changed to such a degree that I left the house almost in love with each of these ugly faces.I had scarcely courage enough to return to vespers.But after having seen the girls, the danger was lessened.I still found their singing delightful; and their voices so much embellished their persons that, in spite of my eyes, I obstinately continued to think them beautiful.
