ving a rooted antipathy
for banquets, especially when the host is no intimate friend of my own,
excused myself next morning on the score of health, and received a
letter of profuse compliments and expressions of regret in return.

LIV.

_A visit from Signor Gratarol.--Notes of our conversation.--Mutinous
murmurs in the playing company.--My weakly kindness toward the
Ricci.--Final rupture._

On the morning after Signor Gratarol's superb banquet, I was still in
bed when my servant announced a visit from that gentleman, whom I had
only met before in passing at the theatre. He entered, walking more like
an Englishman than a Venetian, elegantly attired, and uttering
compliments which my humility forced me to regard as ill-employed
cajoleries.

I begged him to excuse me for receiving him in bed. He inquired after my
health, and then proceeded to business. A society of gentlefolk, he told
me, had been formed, all of whom were amateur actors, and a theatre had
been built at San Gregorio for them to play comedies and tragedies. He
was a member of this company; and he had suggested to his friends the
propriety of electing a permanent chief, with full authority to control
and dictate regulations, whose word should be implicitly obeyed. This
suggestion having been unanimously accepted, he had taken the liberty to
name me as the chief and manager in question, and my nomination had
been received with general approval.

Beside the revolting flattery which underlay this speech, I was
positively taken aback to hear a secretary of the august Venetian
Senate, an ambassador-elect from the most Serene Republic to the court
of a monarch of the Two Sicilies, discussing such a frivolous affair
with so much seriousness and making such a fuss about it. I had much ado
to maintain my gravity, and could not speak for a few seconds. He came
to my relief by resuming his discourse. "Such an institution," he went
on, "will be extremely useful in Venice for developing and training the
abilities of young men, for giving them, in short, a liberal culture. In
my opinion it is admirable, of the greatest utility, and worthy of
respect. What do you think, Count?"

I replied that I was far from disapproving of the well-established
custom in schools and seminaries of making boys and young men act; and I
thought that the same custom in families had many advantages. Besides
sharpening and suppling the mental faculties of young people, and
improvin