If you can read it with dry Eyes, I give you this trouble to acquaint you, that I am the unfortunate King _Latinus_, and believe I am the first Prince that dated from this Palace since _John_ of _Gaunt_. Such is the Uncertainty of all human Greatness, that I who lately never moved without a Guard, am now pressed as a common Soldier, and am to sail with the first fair Wind against my Brother _Lewis_ of _France_. It is a very hard thing to put off a Character which one has appeared in with Applause: This I experienced since the Loss of my Diadem; for, upon quarrelling with another Recruit, I spoke my Indignation out of my Part in _recitativo:_ ... Most audacious Slave, Dar'st thou an angry Monarch's Fury brave? [8] The Words were no sooner out of my Mouth, when a Serjeant knock'd me down, and ask'd me if I had a Mind to Mutiny, in talking things no Body understood. You see, Sir, my unhappy Circumstances; and if by your Mediation you can procure a Subsidy for a Prince (who never failed to make all that beheld him merry at his Appearance) you will merit the Thanks of Your friend, The King of _Latium_." [Footnote 1: therefore shall] [Footnote 2: whom] [Footnote 3: In the opera of 'Camilla': Camilla: That Dorindas my Name. Linco: Well, I knowt, Ill take care. Camilla: And my Life scarce of late-- Linco: You need not repeat. Prenesto: Help me! oh help me! [A wild Boar struck by Prenesto.] Huntsman: Lets try to assist him. Linco: Ye Gods, what Alarm! Huntsman: Quick run to his aid. [Enter Prenesto: The Boar pursuing him.] Prenesto: O Heavns! who defends me? Camilla: My Arm. [She throws a Dart, and kills the Boar.] Linco: Dorinda of nothing afraid, Shes sprightly and gay, a valiant Maid, And as bright as the Day. Camilla: Take Courage, Hunter, the Savage is dead. Katherine Tofts, the daughter of a person in the family of Bishop Burnet, had great natural charms of voice, person, and manner. Playing with Nicolini, singing English to his Italian, she was the first of our 'prime donne' in Italian Opera. Mrs. Tofts had made much money when in 1709 she quitted the stage with disordered intellect; her voice being then unbroken, and her beauty in the height of its bloom. Having recovered health, she married Mr. Joseph Smith, a rich patron of arts and collector of books and engravings, with whom she went to Venice, when he was sent thither as English Consul. Her madness afterwards returned, she lived, therefore, says Sir J. Hawkins, 'sequestered from the world in a remote part of the house, and had a large garden to range in, in which she would frequently walk, singing and giving way to that innocent frenzy which had seized her in the earlier part of her life.'