But a truce to in-door recreations.  You are longing, no doubt, to scent the evening breeze along the banks of the PRATER, or among the towering elms of the AUGARTEN—­both public places of amusement within about a league of the ramparts of the city.  It was the other Sunday evening when I visited the Prater, and when—­as the weather happened to be very fine—­it was considered to be full:  but the absence of the court, and of the noblesse, necessarily gave a less joyous and splendid aspect to the carriages and their attendant liveries.  In your way to this famous place of sabbath evening promenade, you pass a celebrated coffee house, in the suburbs, called the Leopoldstadt, which goes by the name of the Greek coffee-house—­on account of its being almost entirely frequented by Greeks—­so numerous at Vienna.  Do not pass it, if you should ever come hither, without entering it—­at least once.  You would fancy yourself to be in Greece:  so thoroughly characteristic are the countenances, dresses, and language of every one within.

[Illustration:  THE PRATER, VIENNA.]

But yonder commences the procession ... of horse and foot:  of cabriolets, family coaches, german waggons, cars, phaetons, and landaulets ... all moving in a measured manner, within their prescribed ranks, towards the PRATER.  We must accompany them without loss of time.  You now reach the Prater.  It is an extensive flat, surrounded by branches of the Danube, and planted on each side with double rows of horse chesnut trees.  The drive, in one straight line, is probably a league in length.  It is divided by two roads, in one of which the company move onward, and in the other they return.  Consequently, if you happen to find a hillock only a few feet high, you may, from thence, obtain a pretty good view of the interminable procession of the carriages before mentioned:  one current of them, as it were, moving forward, and another rolling backward.  But, hark!—­the notes of a harp are heard to the left ... in a meadow, where the foot passengers often digress from the more formal tree-lined promenade.  A press of ladies and gentlemen is quickly seen.  You mingle involuntarily with them:  and, looking forward, you observe a small stage erected, upon which a harper sits and two singers stand.  The company now lie down upon the grass, or break into standing groups, or sit upon chairs hired for the occasion—­to listen to the notes so boldly and so feelingly executed.[147] The clapping of hands, and exclamations of bravo! succeed:  and the sounds of applause, however warmly bestowed, quickly die away in the open air.  The performers bow:  receive a few kreutschers ... retire; and are well satisfied.