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My companion, in addition to his other accomplishments, is a beautiful player on the flute, and I prefer his style greatly to that of my friend at Florence, though the latter has much more execution, produces more volume of sound, running over with ease the most difficult passages. My friend here has a remarkably fine ear, and plays in the most soft mellifluous style, making choice of sweet soothing plaintive melodies, and those pieces of Italian music in which there is some pleasing subject running throughout and often recurring-such as is characteristic of almost all the music of Mozart. He also sings uncommonly well, and though his voice has little volume, and is rather husky, his ear is so fine, and la disposizione is so instinctively strong, that he can sing with perfect accuracy, including all the Fioriture of a Banti, a Balsamini, or a Grassini—the longest Cavatina, in the softest flexible style. He manages also to give the recitativo of those pieces, which it is very difficult to execute-such as that of “ Idalba tua consorte,” in one of Simon Meyer's operas, “Sul diserto afflitto lido”—and other equally difficult morceaux in fine style, declaiming and acting quite in the tragic manner. Indeed, with the exception of his attendance twice a day on Louisa—which is the Christian name of the Zonzadari—his whole time is devoted to those elegant pursuits, for I have never yet seen him lift a newspaper, a pen, or a book.

As the moon is exceedingly bright at present, he has taken it into his head to serenade, almost every evening, the fair Louisa—which is a more curt and euphonious word-and as I have an uncommonly handsome white greatcoat, with mother-of-pearl buttons, and our size about the same, he always borrows it for the nonce. He moves back and forwards under her windows, blowing away in his very best style, she appearing occasionally and waving her white handkerchief; but finding it of course rather cool to remain long, I generally stand at some distance in the shade, and must confess that lovers appear to the by-stander often very ridiculous and absurd. Like the melancholy Jacques, when viewing the stricken deer, I could not help moralising on the subject, particularly being alone, left, and deserted of my velvet friends; poor boy, thought I, it is melancholy to see so ardent a passion spent on so unworthy an object ; for he seemed so loving that “he would not beteem the winds of heaven visit her face too roughly," :80 ardent in his passion “as if increase of appetite had grown by what it fed on;" and yet Signor Bianchi informs me that she is quite tired of him, and as he has known her from infancy, and has a horrid idea of her morals, says humourously, that though she may weep over his departure like Niobe in tears, in a little month, ere yet those shoes are old with which she walked the terrace with my poor friend, she will be engaged with another lover, an ugly, longnosed fellow from Naples, already on the tapis; and as unlike my countryman as I to Hercules. Signor Bianchi informs me that when my companion came first to Siena, he was a fine, ruddy, handsome young man, with full, bright English eyes, as he calls them, but he has now become like the youth in the Irish song

• Though late, I was plump, round, and jolly,

I now am as thi as a rod;
Oh! love is the cause of my folly,

And soon I'll lie under the sod.”

for he has grown pale and emaciated — his eyes seeming nearly extinguished, as if the salt of most unrighteous tears had left the flushing in them, for they are fearfully red, but more probably this arises from gazing on the meridian lustre of Louisa's bright orbs, who, by-the-bye, is now "plump, round, and jolly," looking beautifully healthy, with much of that freshness of complexion characteristic of the fair ladies of Siena. I cannot conclude this letter without mentioning the Cathedral of this town, which is Gothic, and certainly the showiest building I have ever seen, being completely encased, both outside and in, with pieces of marble, black and white alternately. The floor of the Cathedral is, I believe, the only one in the world finished in Mosaic, the expense of which must have been enormous ; a pulpit also stands in the middle of this

edifice, of the most beautiful transparent Egyptian alabaster, of immense antiquity, and ornamented with the most exquisite bassi-relievi. But I was most particularly struck with the immense volumes of illuminated manuscript, said to be much superior to those in the Vatican, the colours in the paintings more fresh and beautiful than anything of the present day; the elegance and accuracy of the caligraphy putting the art of printing to the blush, and the splendour and size of the book altogether much superior to any modern production. The archbishop appears here in great pomp occasionally, but the upper ranks of Siena have no respect for him as a man, so my friend Signor Bianchi informs me; who, like the Cavalier Pesciolini and other intelligent men whom I have met in this country, seems to have been driven to infidelity by the mummery and corruption of the Popish Ritual, as well as by the gross immorality of the priesthood, who, they quite openly declare, are much more degenerate than the Laity.

By a note I had from my countryman this morning, I find that the Duchess Lanti will be in Siena to-day about eleven o'clock, to change horses, dine, take a siesta, and proceed in the evening to Viterbo on her return to Rome. My countryman here and I have. been adonising in our best style, and will proceed to the old gloomy hotel to wait her arrival.

Since writing the above the little duchess arrived

here in a very nice Parisian carriage, called a dormeuse, accompanied by one footman, and the agreeable plump femme de chambre, who rode inside with her mistress, not on the rumble with the other servant, according to the cold, aristocratic custom in England, which is thought in this country unkind and barbarous. They were delighted to see us waiting for them, and in their usual merry, affable, kindly way, completely dispelled the gloom which formerly hung like a depressing cloud on the atmosphere of the old hotel. My countryman was quite charmed with the duchess, to whom I communicated everything about the Zonzadari, which secmed, I thought, to make her redouble her fascinations to the young susceptible stranger, and I have a suspicion that the gay ladies of Italy are rather fond of dispelling those absorbing penchants which a handsome young fellow may entertain for a rival beauty. She has invited him to come with us to Rome, and promised him every attention there, and I have great hopes that the bait will take with this odd fish, and that we may persuade him to escape from the thraldom of the capricious niece of the most holy archbishop. We have made ourselves so uncommonly pleasant to the little duchess that she agreed to remain till to-morrow, and as there is a tolerable piano-forte in the saloon, we intend taking Bianchi and another friend with us, and making up a little conversazione at the hotel, when the gloomy saloon will for

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