taking precedence of her.  A propos of the viceroy, when on the Corso to-day with the Countess Bubna, we met him with the vice-queen, as she is styled, here, walking in public.  The archduke has not (as the countess observed) la plus jolie tournure du monde:  his appearance is heavy, awkward, and slovenly, with more than the usual Austrian stupidity of countenance:  a complete testa tedesca.  His beautiful wife, the Princess Maria of Savoy, to whom he has been married only a few months, held his arm; and as she moved a little in front, seemed to drag him after her like a mere appendage to her state.  I gazed after them, amused by the contrast:  he looking like a dull, stiff, old bachelor, the very figure of Moody in the Country Girl;—­she, an elegant, sprightly, captivating creature; decision in her step, laughter on her lips, and pride, intelligence, and mischief in her brilliant eyes.

* * * * *

We visited yesterday the military college, founded by the viceroy, Eugene Beauharnois, for the children of soldiers who had fallen in battle.  The original design is now altered; and it has become a mere public school, to which any boys may be admitted, paying a certain sum a year.  We went over the whole building, and afterwards saw the scholars, two hundred and eighty in number, sit down to dinner.  Every thing appeared nice, clean, and admirably ordered.  At the Mint, which interested me extremely, we found them coining silver crowns for the Levant trade, with the head of Maria Theresa, and the date 1780.  We were also shown the beautifully engraved die for the medal which the university of Padua presented to Belzoni.

The evening was spent at the Teatro Re, where we saw a bad sentimental comedy (una Commedia di Carattere) exceedingly well acted.  One actor I thought almost equal to Dowton, in his own style;—­we had afterwards some fine music.  Some of the Milanese airs, which the itinerant musicians give us, have considerable beauty and character.  There is less monotony, I think, in their general style than in the Venetian music; and perhaps less sentiment, less softness.  When left alone to-night, to do penance on the sofa, for my late walks, and recruit for our journey to-morrow,—­I tried to adapt English verses to one or two very pretty airs which Annoni brought me to-day, without the Italian words; but it is a most difficult and invidious task.  Even Moore, with his unequalled command over the lyric harmonies of our language, cannot perfectly satisfy ears accustomed to the

    “Linked sweetness long drawn out”

of the Italian vowels, combined with musical sounds:  fancy such dissonant syllables as ex, pray, what, breaks, strength, uttered in minim time, hissing and grating through half a bar, instead of the dulcet anima mia, Catina amabile—­Caro mio tesoro, etc.

    STANZAS FOR MUSIC.