Of course, none of the great vocalists, whom the north seems to have monopolized, were ever heard, although this theatre could often claim the distinction of having been the nursery in which they were trained, and their latent powers first called forth. The Government, impoverished as it is with gaunt distress assailing it in the shape of houseless poor, decaying buildings, and an exhausted treasury, never hesitates to support and promote theatrical entertainments. The theatre, to an Italian population, is like a sweet cake to a fretful child: it serves to stop its crying, and divert its attention for a moment, and the intelligent nurse is satisfied. It is a safe diversion: they cannot conspire or talk politics, for spies, as they well know, are largely mingled with the audience, and every movement or knot of whisperers would instantly be noted. The pieces performed are carefully selected, and none with any allusion to freedom, revolt, or anything of the sort permitted; for instance, a chorus containing the word _libertà_ would be suppressed, or another word of different signification substituted for it. Auber's _Muta di Portici_ is not allowed to be represented, because its hero, Masaniello, is the leader of a popular insurrection; nor Rossini's _Guglielmo Tell_, for similar reasons; besides many others that it would take too much space to enumerate. Verdi's _Ernani_ is no longer given, although in the early days of Pius IX., when, after granting the amnesty to all political offenders, he was hailed as the regenerator of Italy, the scene in which Charles V. pardons the conspirators, and exclaims, “_Perdono a tutti_,” was received in every theatre of Italy with a frenzy of enthusiasm that must have been perfectly electrifying. It has often been described to me how in Ancona the whole audience used to sit hushed in reverential awe till the expected words had been pronounced, when, as with one voice and impulse, they would break forth into a wild clamour of applause, which had in it something inexpressibly thrilling and sublime.
But all this has passed away; the brief glory, the dream of independence, the unwonted exultation, with its lamentable reverse of ingratitude and folly, opportunities neglected, and powers misapplied. The daystar has risen again for their brethren, while the Anconitans are shrouded in even darker oppression than of yore, and heavier chains have been riveted upon them; yet stay, for I have wandered from my theme, which was of the garlands twined around their fetters, and of the gay strains and idle talk beneath which the patriot's sigh is often stifled. So let us go back to the interior of the theatre, if you please, and take a survey of its various occupants.