Behind the palace [of Belvedere] is an aquatic theatre formed by a stream which flows from Mount Algidus, dashes precipitately down a succession of terraces, and is tormented below into a variety of tricks. The whole court seems alive at the turning of a cock. Water attacks you on every side; it is squirted on your face from invisible holes, it darts up in a constellation of jets d'eau, it returns in misty showers, which present against the sun a beautiful Iris. Water is made to blow the trumpet of a centaur, and the pipe of a Cyclops; water plays two organs; makes the birds warble, and the Muses tune their reeds; sets Pegasus neighing, and all Parnassus on music. I remark this magnificent toy as a specimen of Italian hydraulics. Its sole object is to surprize strangers, for all the pleasure that its repetitions can impart to the owners is but a faint reflection from the pleasure of others.