We went to Bologna for a short time, and there the enthusiasm for the new Pope was absolutely intolerable. "Viva Pio Nono!" was shouted night and day. There was no repose; bands of music went about the streets, playing airs composed for the occasion, and in the theatres it was even worse, for the acting was interrupted, and the orchestra called upon to play the national tunes in vogue, and repeat them again and again, amid the deafening shouts and applause of the excited audience. We found the Bolognese very sociable, and it was by far the most musical society I ever was in. Rossini was living in Bologna, and received in the evening, and there was always music, amateur and professional, at his house. Frequently there was part-singing or choruses, and after the music was over the evening ended with a dance. We frequently saw Rossini some years later, when we resided at Florence. He was clever and amusing in conversation, but satirical. He was very bitter against the modern style of opera-singing, and considered the singers of the present day, with some exceptions, as wanting in study and finish. He objected to much of the modern music, as dwelling too constantly on the highest notes of the voice, whereby it is very soon deteriorated, and the singer forced to scream; besides which, he considered the orchestral accompaniments too loud. I, who recollected Pasta, Malibran, Grisi, Rubini, and others of that epoch, could not help agreeing with him when I compared them to the singers I heard at the Pergola and elsewhere. The theatre, too, was good at Bologna, and we frequently went to it. One evening we were sitting on the balcony of the hotel, when we saw a man stab another in the back of the neck, and then run away. The victim staggered along for a minute, and then fell down in a pool of blood. He had been a spy of the police under Gregory XVI., and one of the principal agents of his cruel government. He was so obnoxious to the people that his assassin has never been discovered. From Bologna we went for a few weeks to Recoaro, where I drank the waters, after which we travelled to England by the St. Gothard pass. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 13: The vessel on board which this bust was shipped for England ran on a shoal and sank, but as the accident happened in shallow water, the bust was recovered, none the worse for its immersion in salt water.] CHAPTER XVI.