Monday Morning was spent in the usual search after pleasure and gratification of the senses.1
After dinner we rode out in a barouche to the racing ground and drank Milk Punch which made me feel extremely unwell for the rest of the day. We obtained amusement however and that was what we sought. On our return we stopped at the Opera, and were delighted during the evening by the Barber of Seville. I don’t think I ever enjoyed myself more. Garcia as Comte Almaviva, and his daughter as Rosina with Angrisani as Basilio delighted me with singing, whilst Rosich amused me much with his buffo acting. Two or three little Songs which she introduced in the lesson of music were very pretty, the Spanish song was a remarkable one and as lively as possible, the French one was of the French gay kind whilst the English one was the popular and sentimental Air of Home, sweet Home. I came away this evening on the whole more gratified than on either of the preceding nights and regretting that it was my last chance. Garcia junr. did not grow in my favour as Figaro. As usual we did not all return home together this evening.