s, my friend and
countryman, sent me a book addressed to him from Italy for me. It was a
collection of French epigrams and madrigals, translated into Italian by
the Count Roncali, of the city of Brescia in the Venetian dominions.
This charming poet has merely translated the thoughts; he has said the
same things in fewer words, and he has fallen upon as brilliant and
striking points in his own language as those of his originals.

I had the honor of seeing M. Roncali twelve years ago at Paris, and he
allows me to hope that I shall have the good fortune to see him again.
This is infinitely flattering to me; but I earnestly entreat him to make
haste, as my career is far advanced, and what is still worse, I am
extremely fatigued. I have undertaken too long and too laborious a work
for my age, and I have employed three years on it, always dreading lest
I should not have the pleasure of seeing it finished. However, I am
still in life, thanks to God, and I flatter myself that I shall see my
volumes printed, distributed, and read. If they be not praised, I hope
at least they will not be despised. I shall not be accused of vanity or
presumption in daring to hope for some share of favor for my Memoirs;
for had I thought that I should absolutely displease, I would not have
taken so much pains; and if in the good and ill which I say of myself,
the balance inclines to the favorable side, I owe more to nature than to
study. All the application employed by me in the construction of my
pieces has been that of not disfiguring nature, and all the care taken
by me in my Memoirs has been that of telling only the truth. The
criticism of my pieces may have the correction and improvement of comedy
in view; but the criticism of my Memoirs will be of no advantage to
literature. However, if any writer should think proper to employ his
time on me for the sole purpose of vexing me, he would lose his labor.
I am of a pacific disposition; I have always preserved my coolness of
character; at my age I read little, and I read only amusing books.

THE CAFE

[A few of the opening scenes from one of the popular Venetian
comedies are here given with occasional abridgment. They
illustrate the entirely practical theatrical skill of Goldoni's
plots, his rapid development of his characters, and the sound
morality which prevails without being aggressively prominent.

The permanent scene represents a small open square in Venice, or