a great number of
English. A table with writing implements, and an old shattered
jingling piano, occupied one side of the apartment, and a small space
was left in front for the poet. Whilst we waited with some impatience
for his appearance, several persons present walked up to the table and
wrote down various subjects; which on Sestini's coming forward, he
read aloud, marking those which were distinguished by the most general
applause. This selection formed our evening's entertainment. A lady
sat down in her bonnet and shawl to accompany him; and when fatigued,
another fair musician readily supplied her place. It is seldom that an
improvvisatore attempts to recite without the assistance of music.
When Dr. Moore heard Corilla at Florence, she sung to the
accompaniment of two violins.[S] La Fantastici preferred the guitar;
and I should have preferred either to our jingling harpsichord.
However, a few chords struck at intervals were sufficient to support
the voice, and mark the time. Several airs were tried, and considered
before the poet could fix on one suited to his subject and the measure
he intended to employ. In general they were pretty and simple,
consisting of very few notes, and more like a chant or recitative,
than a regular air: one of the most beautiful I have obtained, and
shall bring with me to England.

The moment Sestini had made his choice, he stepped forward, and
without further pause or preparation, began with the first subject
upon his list,--"_Il primo Navigatore_."

Gesner's beautiful Idyl of "_The First Navigator_," supplied Sestini
with the Story, in all its details; but he versified it with
surprizing facility: and, as far as I could judge, with great spirit
and elegance. He added, too, some trifling circumstances, and several
little _traits_, the naivete of which afforded considerable amusement.
When an accurate rhyme, or apt expression, did not offer itself on the
instant it was required, he knit his brows and clenched his fingers
with impatience; but I think he never hesitated more than half a
second. At the moment the chord was struck, the rhyme was ready. In
this manner he poured forth between thirty and forty stanzas, with
still increasing animation; and wound up his poem with some beautiful
images of love, happiness, and innocence. Of his success I could form
some idea by the applauses he received from better judges than myself.

After a few minutes' repose and a glass of water, he next