Sometimes he chooses for his subject a Madonna, or some legend, at others a Roman triumph. But in no one instance has he ever copied from any existing subject, or even repeated himself; his fancy constantly creates something new. Some of these sketches excite the greatest astonishment by the richness of the composition, comprising frequently more than thirty or forty figures, and by the correctness of the drawing. The most remarkable to me is the certainty with which he throws off and depicts his ideas. You see no double stroke in the contours—nothing wiped out—everything stands there at once clear and prominent. When he draws he is always surrounded by a crowd of people, who look on with gratification at the skill he displays; but he is so deeply engrossed with his work, that he heeds neither the surrounding spectators nor their remarks. I have been told that Canova took this lad, with the view of developing his talent; but that regular kind of life did not all please him, and he soon ran away.
January 1. 1817.
The new year has begun very unpleasantly for us. This morning Emily was taken suddenly ill. The doctor thinks she will have the scarlet fever; should that be the case, we shall be obliged to postpone our departure for Naples, which we had fixed for the 7th, for at least a fortnight. Added to the annoyance of remaining here yet longer without any object and in anxiety, is that of being compelled to see our fellow-countrymen with whom we had contemplated making the journey together depart alone, and that also of missing the opening of the St. Carlo theatre at Naples, which is to take place on the 12th. To console ourselves for the latter we shall meanwhile hear the new opera of Rossini, which he is writing for the Valle theatre, and the début of Madame Schönberger at the Argentino.
January 3.
Not only Emily, but Ida also has caught the scarlet fever, and now for a certainty we shall not be able to leave before the 20th. Both children were very ill for some days, and my good Dorette has been extremely alarmed and anxious. I have kept up my spirits and amused myself in inventing some puzzle-canons and have now began to write a new solo-quartett.
I should so much have liked to make Rossini’s acquaintance; but before he has finished his opera this is quite out of the question. The impressario, in whose house he lives, neither permits him to go out nor to receive visits, so that he may not neglect his work. Should his opera not be brought out before our departure, I shall probably not be able to see him.
January 18.
The children have recovered sooner than we had anticipated, and we have fixed to leave for Naples the day after to-morrow.
Last Thursday I went again to Sirletti’s, and yesterday to the morning concert at Count Apponyi’s; at neither place, however, was any thing played worth particular notice, with the exception of a fine quartett by Mayer and a duet from a comic opera of Fioravanti. Mayer is remarkable for scrupulously correct harmony, regularity of rhythm and a good treatment of the voices in part compositions, and surpasses therein all modern Italians. The duet out of Fioravanti more particularly interested me from the circumstance that it is also adorned with the modern so-called “flowery song,” from which I find that Rossini is neither the first nor only one who makes use of it. I begin moreover to judge him more favourably, as long as he does not venture beyond the limits of comic opera, and when his music is as gracefully executed as by the Countess Apponyi and Moncade.