"I believe I might take more pleasure in an opera, if they had not
made such a monster of that species of dramatic entertainment as
perfectly shocks me; and I am amazed how people can bear to see
wretched tragedies set to music; where the scenes are contrived for no
other purpose than to lug in, as it were by the ears, three or four
ridiculous songs, to give a favorite actress an opportunity of
exhibiting her pipe. Let who will die away in raptures at the trills
of a eunuch quavering the majestic part of Caesar or Cato, and
strutting in a foolish manner upon the stage, but for my part I have
long ago renounced these paltry entertainments, which constitute the
glory of modern Italy, and are so dearly purchased by crowned heads."
Candide opposed these sentiments; but he did it in a discreet
manner; as for Martin, he was entirely of the old senator's opinion.
Dinner being served they sat down to table, and, after a hearty
repast, returned to the library. Candide, observing Homer richly
bound, commended the noble Venetian's taste.
"This," said he, "is a book that was once the delight of the great
Pangloss, the best philosopher in Germany."
"Homer is no favorite of mine," answered Pococurante, coolly, "I was
made to believe once that I took a pleasure in reading him; but his
continual repetitions of battles have all such a resemblance with each
other; his gods that are forever in haste and bustle, without ever
doing anything; his Helen, who is the cause of the war, and yet hardly
acts in the whole performance; his Troy, that holds out so long,
without being taken: in short, all these things together make the poem
very insipid to me.
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