dined with him; and I soon perceived that my good nature in this instance was likely to lead me much farther. They began to feel their way, and to talk to me of the Abbé Monti, and of his tragedy of "Aristodemus," which is shortly to be brought out on the stage. The author, it was said, wished, above all things, to read it to me, and to hear my opinion of it, I contrived, however, to let the matter drop without positively refusing: at last, however, I met the poet and some of his friends at the prince's house, and the play was read aloud.
The hero is, as is well known, the King of Sparta, who, by various scruples of conscience, was driven to commit suicide. Prettily enough, they contrived to intimate to me their hope that the author of "Werther" would not take it ill if he found some of the rare passages of his own work made use of in this drama. And so, even before the walls of Sparta, I cannot escape from this unhappy youth.
The piece has a very simple and calm movement. The sentiments, as well as the language, are well suited to the subject,—full of energy, and yet of tenderness. The work is a proof of very fair talents.
I failed not, according to my fashion (not, indeed, after the Italian fashion), to point out, and to dwell upon, all the excellencies and merits of the play, with which, indeed, all present were tolerably satisfied, though still with Southern impatience they seemed to require something more. I even ventured to predict what effect it was to be hoped the play would have from the public. In excuse I pleaded my ignorance of the country, its way of thinking and tastes; but was candid enough to add, that I did not clearly see how, with their vitiated taste, the Romans, who were accustomed to see as an interlude either a complete comedy of three acts or an opera of two, or could not sit out a grand opera without the intermezzo of wholly foreign ballets, could
