Venetian people of good family seldom went to the play or to the opera. Austrian bands played there. The places of entertainment were mostly kept up by foreigners, and were consequently not what they might have been. To find good Italian opera one had to go to London or to Paris. Still, the Venetians love music. It is born in them: they have a passion for the art which nothing can subdue. Even the veriest street urchin sings his gutter song with a fervour such as we do not know of in the north. Despite the ban from which they suffered, the theatres were not uninteresting. Scarcely any Italian can act badly. Practically in every case he has the dramatic instinct. But there was no gay buzz in the audience, no flitting from box to box. The theatres were filled with Austrians, who took their pleasure quietly. The artisans and other poor Venetians, who saved up their money to go to the play, certainly did enjoy it. They cheered and hissed with vehemence, and between the acts drank aniseed and water, and ate candied fruits on sticks fashioned at the ends into toothpicks.
A CAMPIELLO
Marionette shows were very popular. The theatre was tiny, and the stage was tiny; everything was arranged in accordance with the small dimensions of the actors. The marionettes talked very volubly, so much so that it was sometimes difficult to follow them. The plays, written expressly for the marionettes, were of all descriptions, from melodrama to farce. Sometimes there were ballets. The audience was generally amusing. It consisted principally of boys. The hat was passed round, and if the proprietor considered that there was not sufficient money collected he would shout, "O you sons of dogs!" and close the theatre.
If any Venetian of good family gave a ball or a party, he was looked upon with suspicion by the poor, who had no holidays, no tips, small trade, and large taxes. The Austrians gave balls and parties occasionally, but not very often. They hated Venice, where they were regarded as a pestilence, and shunned by all save their own countrymen. This strange antagonism continued for a few years, until the Austrian occupation ceased and Venice was united to the rest of Italy.
The Emperor of Austria's birthday afforded a good example of the inter-racial bitterness. All night long Austrian bands paraded the streets, cannons were fired at intervals, and fireworks let off. It seemed as though by unnecessary ostentation of artillery the Austrians were endeavouring to reach the throne in Vienna. But a dead silence reigned in Venice. Not a single Venetian was abroad. The Austrians had their celebrations all to themselves. It was rather pathetic to see them trying to work up joy and enthusiasm. Next morning the celebrations were continued. Service was held in St. Mark's Church; and the soldiers stood outside in the square in long rows, drawn to attention, the sun shining on their resplendent uniforms and handsome faces—a gallant array! Not a single Venetian showed himself. Not a blind was drawn. Not one curious woman's face appeared at a window. Even a Venetian servant girl would not have exchanged a civility with an Austrian officer that day. There was a dreadful hush everywhere. Venice was like a dead city. One felt that the people were stuffing their ears, and covering their eyes, behind drawn blinds. The Austrians tried hard to be jubilant and gay; but very obviously they did not succeed. In the evening they went to the opera, endeavouring to spread out and make more of themselves; but the large house was practically empty. The day after that, Venetian life flowed back again into its accustomed channels. The people were laughing and chatting and filling all the eating-houses, as though making up for lost time. One wondered what the antagonism would all end in.
FISHING BOATS FROM CHIOGGIA