roud to excess when they serve a
nobleman of high birth, and will tell you with an air of importance,
that the house of Memmo, Monsenigo, or Gratterola, has been served by
their ancestors for these eighty or perhaps a hundred years;
transmitting family pride thus from generation to generation; even when
that pride is but reflected only like the mock rainbow of a summer
sky.--But hark! while I am writing this peevish reflection in my room, I
hear some voices under my window answering each other upon the Grand
Canal. It is, it _is_ the gondolieri sure enough; they are at this
moment singing to an odd sort of tune, but in no unmusical manner, the
flight of Erminia from Tasso's Jerusalem. Oh, how pretty! how pleasing!
This wonderful city realizes the most romantic ideas ever formed of it,
and defies imagination to escape her various powers of enslaving it.

Apropos to singing;--we were this evening carried to a well-known
conservatory called the Mendicanti; who performed an oratorio in the
church with great, and I dare say deserved applause. It was difficult
for me to persuade myself that all the performers were women, till,
watching carefully, our eyes convinced us, as they were but slightly
grated. The sight of girls, however, handling the double bass, and
blowing into the bassoon, did not much please _me_; and the deep-toned
voice of her who sung the part of Saul, seemed an odd unnatural thing
enough. What I found most curious and pretty, was to hear Latin verses,
of the old Leonine race broken into eight and six, and sung in rhyme by
these women, as if they were airs of Metastasio; all in their dulcified
pronunciation too, for the _patois_ runs equally through every language
when spoken by a Venetian.

Well! these pretty syrens were delighted to seize upon us, and pressed
our visit to their parlour with a sweetness that I know not who would
have resisted. We had no such intent; and amply did their performance
repay my curiosity, for visiting Venetian beauties, so justly
celebrated for their seducing manners and soft address. They accompanied
their voices with the forte-piano, and sung a thousand buffo songs, with
all that gay voluptuousness for which their country is renowned.

The school, however is running to ruin apace; and perhaps the conduct of
the married women here may contribute to make such _conservatorios_
useless and neglected.

When the Duchess of Montespan asked the famous Louison D'Arquien, by way
of i