Many waltzes and polonaises had been danced when they asked the Princesse B---- to dance the tarantella, that pretty Neapolitan dance which, in her infancy, her young companions of the Parthenope danced with her under the beauteous sky where she was born. Acquiescing in a general wish, she placed herself in the middle of the ball-room, made one or two graceful bows, then seizing a tambourine, gave the signal for the music to begin; and then performed those voluptuous, light, and animated movements so thoroughly in harmony with the air of Naples. Very often, when my recollections brought me back to those fêtes in which I have seen the Russian nobility at St. Petersburg, Moscow, and Vienna display so much wealth and elegance, I have been reminded of what my friend Count Tolstoy told me about the difficulties of Peter the First to make his Boyards amuse themselves in a European fashion. The opposition was so violent that he could only get the better of it by publishing a long regulation, and whosoever deviated from it exposed himself to the most severe punishments. Although his inflexible will had decided that those fêtes should have a European character, they were too near to barbaric times not to be tainted with their spirit. It was to the sound of the drum that the Court balls were announced in the city. The ladies repaired to them at five o’clock in the evening. They had to be dressed in the fashion prevailing in the Courts of Europe. Only the empress, who was a Narischkine, was exempt from the general law, and permitted to keep to the dress of the Russian ladies. Peter, who never tried to avoid the orders he imposed on others, stood sentry at the door of the palace, a partisan in his hand. Thus did Louis XIV. stand guard at the door of the St. Cyr Theatre on the occasion of the performances of _Esther_. The grandes-duchesses offered refreshments to the guests: French wines, hydromel, and strong beer. At the entrance door, facing the emperor, stood a chamberlain, holding two urns containing a great many numbered tickets. Each cavalier and each lady, on entering the ball-room, drew one, and willy-nilly found him- or herself associated with the corresponding number, as in days gone by the athletes of the pugilistic exercises in the Olympic Games. The masked balls were still more extraordinary. Disguise was resorted to by way of the most curious costumes, and the rejoicing and the dances were in harmony with the costumes.