Molmenti, Nuovi Studi, 318.
to admire, and when it grew late they all sat down to a plentiful supper, which on those occasions generally consisted principally of several dishes of fish washed down with copious draughts of the island wine. The last homes of Venice, in any real sense, were the homes of the working people.
Life in the country did little to bring the members of a noble family nearer together, but there was a good deal of it, such as it was. At a time when France set the fashions, which she was before long to impose on the greater part of Europe, every rich Venetian noble dreamt of making a little Versailles of his own villa. The residences of the Marcello, the Corner, the Gradenigo, the Foscarini, and the Pisani, on the road to Treviso and on the banks of the Brenta, were so many little courts, in which every element was represented from the sovereign to the parasite, from the parasite to the buffoon, and the lesser nobles imitated the greater throughout a scale which descended from the sublime to the ridiculous. The villas themselves were often decorated by the greatest artists. In the hall of the Pisani’s country-house at Strà, for instance, Tiepolo had painted a wonderful picture representing the reception of Henry III. in Venice.
In going from the city to the villas, people went by water as far as it was possible, and each family had a sort of light house-boat for this purpose,
Molmenti, Ult. 112, 116.
called a ‘burchiello,’ and fitted with all possible comfort. The travellers dined and supped sumptuously on board, and spent most of their time in playing cards; and when the end of the journey was reached a long round of pleasures and amusements began, in which the ‘cicisbei’ played an important and, one would think, a terribly fatiguing part. They were assisted by regular relays of parasites who were invited for a few days at a time, and who were expected to pay with ready flattery and story-telling for the hospitality they received.
Eating then played a much larger part in what was called pleasure than we moderns can well understand. We are ourselves no great improvement
Molmenti, Vita Priv.
on our fathers, in respect of manly virtue, faith in things divine, or honesty when it does not happen to be the best policy; but as an age of men we are not greedy of food. The Venetians were. Not only did they employ French cooks and spend much time in considering what things to eat, but their dinners were so interminably long, and the courses they ate were so numerous, that they found it convenient to use three dining-rooms in succession for the same meal, the first being for the soup and the beef, the second for the roast meats and vegetables, and the third for the pudding and dessert.
The Venetians were near their end when they ceased to be men of business and turned into gamblers and spendthrifts. All this extravagance, especially in the country, led to financial embarrassment at the end of the season; and in order to satisfy the creditors who then appeared in force, it was necessary to rackrent the peasants or to sell property and produce at ruinous prices. In one of his comedies Goldoni makes a ruined nobleman say again and again to his steward, ‘Caro vecchio, fè vu’—‘My dear old man, manage it yourself.’ The expression was so true to life that not one but a number of nobles complained to the government that they were being publicly libelled by a playwright.