During my performance, the Signor appeared perfectly astonished, and at length seizing my hand with rapture, “welcome,” he cried, “O son of harmony! it cannot be longer disguised, you are a brother—you are one of us”—then expatiating on the dignity and importance of the order of _castrati_, he desired me, if not too much exhausted, to sing again his favourite air, which when I had done he cried out with transport;—“_nec vox hominem sonat!_ I can hardly believe it is the same pipe! such a volume of voice, such an open and perfect shake! such light and shade! never was voice less _cloudy_! such clearness, brilliancy, neatness, expression, embellishment, intonation, firmness, modulation, smoothness and elegance! and then your _portamento_ is as round and tight as a portmanteau, and you take _appogiatura_, as easily as a body would take a pinch of snuff!”— I was greatly flattered by these encomiums, but begged he would forbear and suffer me to retire to my chamber, for the sake of necessary refreshment and rest. He immediately complied, and sent up to me Signor _Sougelder_, an eminent surgeon in the neighbourhood, and an agreeable performer on the _English_ horn; who having applied an excellent dressing to my wound left me to sleep, and “thus ended this busy and important day, in which so much was said, and done; that it seemed to contain the events of a much longer period; and I could hardly persuade myself, upon recollecting the several incidents, that they had all happened in about the space of twelve hours.” By the kind and skilful offices of Signor _Sougelder_, I was soon restored to my health and spirits; and my adorable Signora _Gluckinelli_ in a few days paid me a visit of congratulation, which she repeated every day during my recovery. It was in some of these delightful interviews I discovered how deep a theorist she was, and how learned in the science of sound. Among other discoveries and observations which she communicated to me, and which I treasure up, and mean to preserve for the benefit of future ages, she assured me that it was “practicable with time and patience to give a shake where nature has denied it; that she thought, the shake ruined ninety-nine times out of a hundred by too much impatience and precipitation, both in the master and scholar, and that many who can execute passages which require the same motion of the _larynx_ as the shake, have notwithstanding never acquired one”—“There is no accounting for this,” added that illustrious young lady, with a sigh, “but from the neglect of the master to study nature, and avail himself of these passages, which by continuity would become real shakes.”