fore it appeared I chose to have my translation published, together
with an essay inveighing against the habit of importing plays from
France. The stir caused by this essay, together with other
circumstances, drew a large house on the first night of _Fajel_. Ricci
sustained the part of Gabrielle admirably; but it so happened that
Signora Manzoni had recently been acting a nearly identical role at the
theatre of S. Angelo, and her partisans determined to crush the
debutante, whom they considered a presumptuous rival. This third failure
made her ruin palpable to every eye.

Fervid and impetuous by nature, proud as Lucifer, and intensely
ambitious, she chafed and wept, took to her bed, and raged there like a
lioness, cursing the hour when she had joined Sacchi's troupe and set
her foot in Venice. As far as possible, she concealed the true cause of
her fury, and dwelt on family difficulties, her poverty, and a new
confinement in prospect. To my attempts at consolation, though
flattering and reasonable, she turned a deaf ear.

It was then that, having gained a perfect knowledge of her character, I
composed my _Principessa Filosofa_,[41] precisely with a view to her.
When I read it to the company, they broke forth into their usual
extravagant laudations. But just at this time they were plotting the
removal of the Ricci; and the actresses most interested in expelling her
from the troupe raised obstacles against the _Principessa_ being put
upon the stage. They buzzed about from ear to ear that my drama was
languid and tiresome. I had omitted the four masks, and had constructed
the piece with the sole object of bolstering up an actress already out
of credit and rejected by the public. The Ricci chafed with rage; while
I continued to laugh, knowing well that I should find the means of
bringing these passion-blinded creatures back to reason.

Just then it happened that the patrician of Venice, Francesco Gritti,
one of our best and liveliest pens, translated Piron's tragedy of
_Gustavus Vasa_ from the French.[42] At my request, he gave this play to
Sacchi, assigning the part of Adelaide to Teodora Ricci. New
difficulties and new intrigues arose among the jealous actresses. These
I put down with a high hand, the play in question being not my own, but
my distinguished friend's donation to the company. La Ricci learned her
part with diligence and ease. Her chief anxiety was about her costume;
for the managers refused to make her any