_Duke._--Console yourself, madam, no man amongst us equals your
illustrious sire; neither does any come near Caesar, with whom you were
contemporary, nor the Scipios who preceded him. Nature, it is true
creates, even at this day, powerful intellects, but they resemble rare
seeds, which cannot arrive at maturity in an uncongenial soil. The
simile does not hold good respecting arts and sciences; time, and
fortunate chances, have perfected them. It would, for example, be easier
for us to produce a Sophocles, or an Euripides, than such individuals as
your father, because, theatres we have, but no tribunals for public
harangues.[6] You have hissed the tragedy of Cataline; when you shall
see Phaedrus played, you will probably agree that the part of Phaedrus,
in Racine, is infinitely superior to the model you have known in
Euripides. I hope, also, that you will agree our Molière surpasses your
Terence. By your permission, I shall have the honour of escorting you to
the opera, where you will be astonished to hear song in parts; that
again is an art unknown to you.[7] Here, madam, is a small telescope,
have the goodness to apply your eye to this glass, and look at that
house which is a league off.

_Tullia._--Immortal gods! the house is now at the end of the telescope,
and appears much larger than before.

_Duke._--Well, madam, it is by means of such a toy that we have
discovered new heavens, even as by means of a needle, we have become
acquainted with a new earth. Do you see this other varnished instrument,
in which is inserted a small glass tube? by this trifle, we are enabled
to discover the just proportion of the weight of the atmosphere. After
much error and uncertainty, there arose a man who discovered the first
principle of nature, the cause of weight, and who has demonstrated that