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I denied myself the rest of the perfor- mance.
Sunday, July 22. This morning, af- ter hearing the Ambrosian service in all its perfection, at the Duomo, I went to the Convent of Santa Maria Maddalena; I heard several motets performed by the nuns; it was their feast-day. The com- position was by Signor B. S. Martini, who is Maesiro di Capella, and teaches to sing at this convent. He made me ample amends for the want of slow movements in his mass on Friday, by an adagio in the motet of to-day, which was truly di- vine, and divinely sung by one of the sisters, accompanied, on the organ only, by another. It was by far the best sing- ing, in every respect, that I had heard since my arrival in Italy; where there is so much, that one soon grows fastidious. At my first coming I both hungered and thirsted after music, but I now had had almost my fill; and we are more severe
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