“_The Dean._—‘But, Lady Edgcumbe, may not Gabrielli have great powers, and yet have too weak a voice for so large a theatre?’
“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘Our theatre, Mr. Dean, is of no size to what she has been accustomed to abroad. But,—Dr. Burney, I have also heard the Agujari!’
“_Hettina_, _Fanny_, _Susanna_.—‘Oh! Agujari!’ (All three speaking with clasped hands.)
“_Dr. Burney_ (laughing).—‘Your ladyship darts into all their hearts by naming Agujari! However, I have hopes you _will_ hear her again.’
“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘O, Dr. Burney! bring her but to the Opera,—and I shall grow crazy!’
“I assure you, my dear Mr. Crisp, we all longed to embrace her ladyship. And she met our sympathy with a good-humour full of pleasure. My father added, that we all doated upon Agujari.
“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘O! she is incomparable!—Mark but the difference, Dr. Burney; by Gabrielli, Rauzzini seems to have a great voice;—by Agujari, he seemed to have that of a child.’—
“Mr. Brudenell,[7] commonly called ‘His Honour,’ from high birth, I suppose, without title, or from some quaint old cause that nobody knows who has let me into its secret, is tall and stiff, and strongly in the _ton_ of the present day; which is anything rather than macaroniism; for it consists of unbounded freedom and ease, with a short, abrupt, dry manner of speech; and in taking the liberty to ask any question that occurs upon other people’s affairs and opinions; even upon their incomes and expences;—nay, even upon their age!
“Did you ever hear of any thing so shocking?
“I do not much mind it now; but, when I grow older, I intend recommending to have this part of their code abolished.
“Mrs. Brudenel is very obliging and pleasing; and of as great fame as a lady singer, as Lady Edgcumbe is as a first rate lady player.
“The usual question being asked of La Gabrielli;
“_Mrs. Brudenel._—‘O, Lady Edgcumbe and I are entirely of the same opinion; we agree that we have not yet heard her.’
“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘The ceremony of her quitting the theatre after the opera is over, is extremely curious. First goes a man in livery to clear the way; then follows the sister; then the Gabrielli herself. Then, a little foot-page, to bear her train; and, lastly, another man, who carries her muff, in which is her lap-dog.’