an Dyck and the others
some fine Titians, Caravaggios, Rubens, Canalettos, and so on. There
are also several masterpieces by the last-named painter in the
Imperial Museum.

It has been said with truth that the Prater is one of the best
promenades in existence. It is a long, magnificent avenue in which
large numbers of elegant carriages drive up and down, and which is
lined on either side by sitting spectators, just as in the great
avenue of the Tuileries. But what renders the Prater more pleasant
and more picturesque is that the avenue leads to a wood, which is not
very thick, and full of deer so tame that one can approach them
without frightening them. There is another promenade on the bank of
the Danube, where every Sunday various companies of the middle classes
meet together to eat fried chicken. The park of Schoenbrunn is also
well frequented, especially on Sundays. Its broad avenues, and the
pretty resting places on the heights at the end of the park, make it
very pleasant for walking in.

In Vienna I went to several balls, especially to those given by the
Russian Ambassador, Count Rasomovski. They danced the waltz there with
such fury that I could not imagine how all these people, spinning
round at such a rate, did not fall down from giddiness; but men and
women were so accustomed to this violent exercise that they never
rested a single moment while a ball lasted. The "polonaise" was often
danced, too, and was much less fatiguing, for this dance is nothing
more than a procession in which you quietly walk two by two. It suits
pretty women to perfection, as there is time to look their faces and
figures all over.

I also wanted to see a great court ball. I was invited to one. The
Emperor Francis II. had taken for his second wife Maria Theresa of the
two Sicilies, daughter to the Queen of Naples. I had painted this
Princess in 1792, but I found her so changed on meeting her at this
ball that I had difficulty in recognising her. Her nose had
lengthened, and her cheeks had sunk so much that she resembled her
father. I was sorry for her sake that she had not kept her mother's
features, who reminded me strongly of our charming Queen of France.

A person whose friendship I had great pleasure in renewing at Vienna
was the Countess de Brionne, Princess de Lorraine. She had been most
kind to me in my early youth, and I resumed the agreeable habit of
supping at her house, where I often met the valiant Prince Nassau, so
f