ed as one bright well-known face after another appears
in her accustomed seat.

The husband, in all well-regulated establishments, accompanies his
wife to the theatre, and remains in the box until some visitor appears,
which is generally the case as soon as she has been seen to enter. He
then takes his leave, and does not trouble her with his presence till
the close of the evening, to escort her home; as it would be considered
very insipid to be seen sitting long together, and infallibly be
looked upon as the result of the lady's want of attraction, or the
lack of resources on his side to fill up the time. Released from his
attendance, therefore, as soon as the welcome sound is heard of the
curtain at the door being drawn aside to give admission to a visitor,
he hastens in his turn to commence a round of calls, to those ladies
especially whose houses, when the theatre is not open, he is most in
the habit of frequenting. Thus the leading belles gather round them
their usual _società_, and they talk and laugh, as is their wont,
without much regard to the performance, except at any favourite air or
duet, when, as if by magic, the whole audience is silent and breathless
with attention. The loquacity prevalent is sometimes annoying to
the pit and gallery, particularly in a prose piece, when the actors
are scarcely audible from the hum of patrician voices, and an angry
“_Zitto, zitto!_” gives an indication of popular feeling. But even
this departure from the usual orderly demeanour of the people is very
rare. It would be difficult to find more decorum and correctness of
deportment than they present: there is no bad language, no quarrelling,
no drinking—not even any popping of ginger-beer, or fragrance of
orange-peel.

The same operas are repeated night after night, without intermission,
for weeks. In the course of a season lasting nearly two months, seldom
more than two operas are given, the expense of getting up a greater
variety being of course one reason; while the taste of the Italians
themselves leads also 