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The beginning, with what I have been able to recollect of the remainder, is as follows: Tircis, je n'ose Ecouter ton Chalumeau Sous l'Ormeau; Car on en cause Deja dans notre hameau. un Berger s'engager sans danger, Et toujours l'epine est sons la rose. I have endeavored to account for the invincible charm my heart feels on the recollection of this fragment, but it is altogether inexplicable.
His admirable airs are entitled to our applause as much from their grace and harmony as the lyrical beauties which they contain, especially when detached from the drama in which they are placed; but it is impossible for us who possess Shakespeare, who has most deeply fathomed History and the passions of man, to suffer those amorous couples, that divide between them almost all the pieces of Metastasio alike, under the names of Achilles, of Tircis, of Brutus, and of Corilas, singing, in a manner that hardly touches the surface of the soul, the grief and sufferings of love, so as almost to reduce to imbecility the noblest passion that animates the human heart.
Too much love on the part of the gendarme, one audacious step further, would bring about the unexpected, would abruptly change the eclogue into an official indictment, would reconvert the amorous satyr into a stony-hearted policeman, would transform Tircis into Vidocq; and then this strange thing would be seen, a passenger guillotined because a gendarme had committed an outrage.
She showed me several pieces of letters, I think from the Duchesse de Bouillon: one says, the poor Duchesse de Biron is again arrested and at the Jacobins, and with her "une jeune étourdie, qui ne fait que chanter toute la journée;" and who, think you, may that be? only our pretty little wicked Duchesse de Fleury! by her singing and not sobbing, I suppose she was weary of her Tircis, and is glad to be rid of him.
The beginning, with what I have been able to recollect of the remainder, is as follows: Tircis, je n'ose Ecouter ton Chalumeau Sous l'Ormeau; Car on en cause Deja dans notre hameau. un Berger s'engager sans danger, Et toujours l'epine est sons la rose. I have endeavored to account for the invincible charm my heart feels on the recollection of this fragment, but it is altogether inexplicable.
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