perspective then acquired has seryed him ever since.—(From Sir J. R. himself.)
In one of his Italian tours, Baretti picked up at a house where he stopped for refreshment a little book which his host let him have for a trifle, and which contained the seeds of Ariosto’s great poem. He afterwards gave the book to Mr. Croft, and it was sold at the auction of his books to Mr. Steevens for some exorbitant price. I forget the title of the book.
When Cuzzoni[1] was somewhat in the decline of her reputation on her second visit here, Baretti went with a friend to see her. She was leaning pensively on her arm; on which Baretti’s friend asked her how she came to be in such low spirits. “How can I be otherwise,” said Cuzzoni, “when I have had no dinner, and have not a shilling to buy one?” “Well,” said the other, “I am not very rich; I have but two guineas in my purse; here is one of them, and let us hear no more of your low spirits. You can now dine as soon as you will.” Cuzzoni rang the bell, gave her servant the guinea, and bade him go to a famous wine-
- ↑ Or (according to her married name) Sandoni, once a celebrated opera singer, of whom and Handel an amusing story is told. Handel had composed for her the song of Falsa Imagine in Otho, which occasioned so severe a dispute between them on account of her refusing to sing it, that at last Handel threatened to throw the refractory signora out of the window; telling her “that he always knew she was a very devil, but that he should now let her know, in her turn, that he was Beelzebub, the Prince of Devils.” He then seized her by the waist and lifted up the sash. Alarmed at this process, Cuzzoni now consented, and by exquisite grace and pathos, added to the ornaments with which she executed and diversified the few simple notes that compose the air, added more to her reputation than by any other performance.
