as it could speak, I believed him. Timothy's dress was a pair of wide
Turkish trousers and red jacket, with spangles. The others were much the
same. Fleta was attired in small, white satin, Turkish trousers, blue
muslin and silver embroidered frock, worked sandals, and her hair
braided and plaited in long tails behind, and she looked like a little
sylph. Melchior's dress was precisely the same as mine, and a more
respectable company was seldom seen. Some musicians had been hired, and
handbills were now circulated all over the town, stating that Signor
Eugenio Velotti, with his company, would have the honour of performing
before the nobility and gentry. The bill contained the fare which was to
be provided, and intimated the hour of the performance, and the prices
to be paid for the seats. The performance was to take place in a very
large room attached to the inn, which, previous to the decadence of the
town, had been used as an assembly-room. A platform was erected on the
outside, on which were placed the musicians, and where we all
occasionally made our appearance in our splendid dresses to attract the
wonder of the people. There we strutted up and down, all but poor little
Fleta, who appeared to shrink at the display from intuitive modesty.
When the music ceased, a smart parley between Melchior and me, and
Philotas, and Timothy, as the two fools, would take place; and Melchior
declared, after the performance was over, that we conducted ourselves to
admiration.

"Pray, Mr Philotas, do me the favour to tell me how many people you
think are now present?" said Melchior to Num, in an imperative voice.

"I don't know," said Num, looking up with his idiotical, melancholy
face.

"Ha! ha! ha'" roared the crowd at Num's stupid answer.