In accordance with the instructions of Justinian, the poet had composed a play embodying an allegory of the aims of this island colony of Melnos, and, forsaking to a great extent the severe classicism of Æschylean tragedy, had modelled his drama on the loose-flying splendors of Shelley’s Hellas. This piece, entitled ‘The Phœnix,’ was intended to represent the degradation of Greece under the Turkish yoke, her escape from such bondage, her material civilization, and her subsequent rise to intellectual supremacy, which end the formation of the colony of Melnos was supposed to foster. Crispin had no fear of his allegorical drama not being understood by his audience, for the Greeks are a singularly keen-witted people, and, besides, Justinian had so imbued the whole population with his hopes of reviving the ancient glories of the Athenian genius, that all present were quite able to comprehend the hidden meaning of the play. The Phœnix was to occupy the whole morning, and, after an interval of two hours for rest and refreshment, the satiric pendant to the more solemn piece was to be represented in the afternoon, consisting, in this instance, of a local incident, developed and expanded by Crispin into a wild Aristophanic farce, blending wit with irony, laughter with tears, and stately chorus with clownish play of rustic actors. Crispin, moreover, was not only author, actor, and stage manager, but also an accomplished musician, therefore had made use of his Western training in this respect, to get together an orchestra, and, with the aid of Andronico, had adapted the plaintive music of the Hellenic folk-songs to his choruses. The quick-eared Greeks speedily picked up the airs, many of which they already knew, and thus the drama followed closely in the footsteps of its Athenian prototype; and the wild, rude music, sounding at intervals between the long speeches of the principal characters, prevented the monotony which otherwise would have certainly prevailed. With violin, flute, pipe, drum, symbols, and sabouna, the musicians therefore took their places unseen by the audience; for Crispin, adopting Wagner’s theory, did not want the attention of his audience distracted in any way by the presence of the orchestra between stage and auditorium.