A custom which prevails here, of wearing little or no rouge, and increasing the native paleness of their skins, by scarce lightly wiping the very white powder from their faces, is a method no Frenchwoman of quality would like to adopt; yet surely the Venetians are not behind-hand in the art of gaining admirers; and they do not, like their painters, depend upon colouring to ensure it.

Nothing can be a greater proof of the little consequence which dress gives to a woman, than the reflection one must make on a Venetian lady’s mode of appearance in her zendalet, without which nobody stirs out of their house in a morning.  It consists of a full black silk petticoat, sloped just to train, a very little on the ground, and flounced with gauze of the same colour.  A skeleton wire upon the head, such as we use to make up hats, throwing loosely over it a large piece of black mode or persian, so as to shade the face like a curtain, the front being trimmed with a very deep black lace, or souflet gauze infinitely becoming.  The thin silk that remains to be disposed of, they roll back so as to discover the bosom; fasten it with a puff before at the top of their stomacher, and once more rolling it back from the shape, tie it gracefully behind, and let it hang in two long ends.

The evening ornament is a silk hat, shaped like a man’s, and of the same colour, with a white or worked lining at most, and sometimes one feather; a great black silk cloak, lined with white, and perhaps a narrow border down before, with a vast heavy round handkerchief of black lace, which lies over neck and shoulders, and conceals shape and all completely.  Here is surely little appearance of art, no craping or frizzing the hair, which is flat at the top, and all of one length, hanging in long curls about the back or sides as it happens.  No brown powder, and no rouge at all.  Thus without variety does a Venetian lady contrive to delight the eye, and without much instruction too to charm, the ear.  A source of thought fairly cut off beside, in giving her no room to shew taste in dress, or invent new fancies and disposition of ornaments for to-morrow.  The government takes all that trouble off her hands, knows every pin she wears, and where to find her at any moment of the day or night.

Mean time nothing conveys to a British observer a stronger notion of loose living and licentious dissoluteness, than the sight of one’s servants, gondoliers, and other attendants, on the scenes and circles of pleasure, where you find them, though never drunk, dead with sleep upon the stairs, or in their boats, or in the open street, for that matter, like over-swilled voters at an election in England.  One may trample on them if one will, they hardly can be awakened; and their companions, who have more life left, set the others literally on their feet, to make them capable of obeying their master or lady’s call.  With all this appearance of levity, however, there is an unremitted attention to the affairs of state; nor is any senator seen to come late or negligently to council next day, however he may have amused himself all night.