[Letter XIX] After a glass or two of anti-muscatel, the composer [Don Matteo] brought forth his opus magnum, the loyal cantata, the aspect of which entitled it to the rank of a musical curiosity. However original its intrinsic contents might be, its external appearance was a complete patchwork. Dozens of bits of staves were pasted upon every page: and Don Michele, holding a leaf against the window, observed, that there ought to be abundance of variety in a composition which so nearly resembled a harlequin's jacket.

Having requested me to join in the intervening chorus and Don Michele, as well as Monsieur B. to abstain from joining therein, he began the introduction, which, according to a running comment of his, was to express the undulating motion of the sea, and the gales of a gentle zephyr wafting the royal fleet from Palermo towards the Bay of Naples. Madame now commenced a very good recitativo, which was interrupted by the signals of the Castle of St. Elmo, in answer to those from the Island of Capri, whence the fleet is supposed to be first espied. All this, and, unfortunately, much more, was attempted by picturesque musical translation.—"A signal-gun from the castle."—" The bustle of the loyal inhabitants crowding to the port."—" Chorus of Lazzaroni (fall in, Signor Don Luigi)."—"Aria again."—" The fleet passes the Channel of Capri,"—"Ringing of all the church bells in Naples."—" Procession of the religious orders."—"Aria and chorus." "ROYAL SALUTE from the fleet and castle, on the king's..." Here, as ill-luck would have it, the musical guns were overcharged; Don Matteo, not satisfied with the mere employ of his fingers on so loyal an occasion, fired off the four and twenty pounders in the bass with his elbow. Crash went five or six wires at once, to the great mortification of the performer and all present, except Don Michele, who jocularly exclaimed, " Ah! carissimo, your metal is not heavy enough for so powerful a salute." The effect, no doubt, was grand; but, as in other matters, an effort above our strength, although successful pro tempore, incapacitates us for ulterior exertion; so was there an end in this instance, to all further performance. The composer would fain have put up new strings, but yielded to Don Michele's representation:—"Leave off, here," said he, "you could not have finished better; his majesty is on shore, never mind the guns being burst." "Be it so," replied the good-natured professor, "and let us drink the safe arrival of our beloved Ferdinand."