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MILAN - Chapter XVIII

I Give up Agatha to Lord Percy--I Set out for Milan--The Actress
at Pavia--Countess A * * * B * * *--Disappointment--Marquis
Triulzi--Zenobia--The Two Marchionesses Q * * *--The Venetian
Barbaro


Far from punishing the Corticelli by making her live with
Redegonde, the Count d'Aglie seemed to have encouraged her; and I
was not sorry for it, since as long as she did not trouble me any
more I did not care how many lovers she had.  She had become a
great friend of Redegonde's, and did exactly as she pleased, for
their duenna was much more easy going than the Pacienza.

Nobody knew of the trick which Lord Percy had played me, and I
took care to say nothing about it.  However, he did not give up
his designs on Agatha, his passion for her was too violent.  He
hit upon an ingenious method for carrying out his plans.  I have
already said that Percy was very rich, and spent his money wildly,
not caring at what expenditure he gratified his passion.  I was
the last person to reproach him for his extravagance, and in a
country where money is always scarce his guineas opened every
door to him.

Four or five days after the ball night, Agatha came to tell me
that the manager of the Alexandria Theatre had asked her if she
would take the part of second dancer throughout the carnival time.

"He offered me sixty sequins," she added, "and I told him I would
let him know by to-morrow.  Do you advise me to accept his offer?"

"If you love me, dearest Agatha, you will prove it by refusing all
engagements for a year.  You know I will let you want for nothing. 

I will get you the best masters, and in that time you can perfect
your dancing, and will be able to ask for a first-class
appointment, with a salary of five hundred sequins a year."

"Mamma thinks that I should accept the offer, as the dancing on
the stage will improve my style, and I can study under a good
master all the same.  I think myself that dancing in public would
do me good."

"There is reason in what you say, but you do not need the sixty
sequins.  You will dishonour me by accepting such a poor offer,
and you will do yourself harm too, as you will not be able to ask
for a good salary after taking such a small one."

"But sixty sequins is not so bad for a carnival engagement."

"But you don't want sixty sequins; you can have them without
dancing at all.  If you love me, I repeat, you will tell the
manager that you are going to rest for a year."

"I will do what you please, but it seems to me the best plan would
be to ask an exorbitant sum."

"You are right; that is a good idea.  Tell him you must be first
dancer, and that your salary must be five hundred sequins."

"I will do so, and am only too happy to be able to prove that I
love you."

Agatha had plenty of inborn common sense, which only needed
development.  With that and the beauty which Heaven had given her
her future was assured.

She was eventually happy, and she deserved her happiness.

The next day she told me that the manager did not appear at all
astonished at her demands.

"He reflected a few minutes," said she, "and told me he must think
it over, and would see me again.  It would be amusing if he took
me at my word, would it not?"

"Yes, but we should then have to enquire whether he is a madman or
a beggar on the verge of bankruptcy."

"And if he turns out to be a man of means?"

"In that case you would be obliged to accept."

"That is easily said and easily done, but have I sufficient
talent?  Where shall I find an actor to dance with me?"

"I will engage to find you one.  As to talent, you have enough and
to spare; but you will see that it will come to nothing."

All the time I felt a presentiment that she would be engaged, and
I was right.  The manager came to her the next day, and offered
her the agreement for her signature.  She was quite alarmed, and
sent for me.  I called at her house, and finding the manager there
asked him what security he could give for the fulfilment of his
part of the engagement.

He answered by naming M. Martin, a banker of my acquaintance, who
would be his surety.  I could make no objection to this, and the
agreement was made out in duplicate in good form.

On leaving Agatha I went to M. Raiberti and told him the story. 
He shared my astonishment that M. Martin should become surety for
the manager whom he knew, and whose financial position was by no
means good; but the next day the problem was solved, for in spite
of the secrecy that had been observed we found out that it was
Lord Percy who was behind the manager.  I might still bar the
Englishman's way by continuing to keep Agatha, in spite of his
five hundred sequins, but I was obliged to return to France after
Easter to wait on Madame d'Urfe, and afterwards, peace having been
concluded, I thought it would be a good opportunity for seeing
England.  I therefore determined to abandon Agatha, taking care to
bind her new lover to provide for her, and I proceeded to make a
friend of the nobleman.  

I was curious to see how he would win Agatha's good graces, for
she did not love him, and physically he was not attractive.

In less than a week we had become intimate.  We supped together
every night either at his house or mine, and Agatha and her mother
were always of the party.  I concluded that his attentions would
soon touch Agatha's heart, and that finding herself so beloved she
would end by loving.  This was enough to make me determine not to
put any obstacles in their way, and I resolved to leave Turin
earlier than I had intended.  In consequence I spoke as follows to
Lord Percy, while we were breakfasting together:

"My lord, you know that I love Agatha, and that she loves me,
nevertheless I am your friend, and since you adore her I will do
my best to hasten your bliss.  I will leave you in possession of
this treasure, but you must promise that when you abandon her you
will give her two thousand guineas."

"My dear sir," said he, "I will give them her now if you like."

"No, my lord, I do not wish her to know anything about our
agreement while you are living happily together."

"Then I will give you a bond binding myself to pay her the two
thousand guineas when we separate."

"I don't want that, the word of an Englishman is enough; but since
we cannot command the fates, and may die without having time to
put our affairs in order, I wish you to take such steps as may
seem convenient to you, whereby that sum would go to her after
your death."

"I give you my word on it."

"That is enough; but I have one other condition to make."

"Say on."

"It is that you promise to say nothing to Agatha before my
departure."

"I swear I will not."

"Very good; and on my part I promise to prepare her for the
change:"

The same day the Englishman, whose love grew hotter and hotter,
made Agatha and her mother rich presents, which under any other
circumstances I should not have allowed them to accept.

I lost no time in preparing Agatha and her mother for the
impending change.  They seemed affected, but I knew they would
soon get reconciled to the situation.  Far from giving me any
cause for complaint, Agatha was more affectionate than ever.  She
listened attentively to my advice as to her conduct towards her
new lover and the world in general, and promised to follow it.  It
was to this advice that she owed her happiness, for Percy made her
fortune.  However, she did not leave the theatre for some years,
when we shall hear more of her.

I was not the man to take presents from my equals, and Percy no
doubt being aware of that succeeded in making me a handsome
present in a very singular way.  I told him that I thought of
paying a visit to England and requested him to give me a letter of
introduction to the duchess, his mother, whereon he drew out a
portrait of her set with magnificent diamonds, and gave it to me,
saying,--

"This is the best letter I can give you.  I will write and tell
her that you will call and give her the portrait, unless, indeed,
she likes to leave it in your hands."

"I hope my lady will think me worthy of such an honour."

There are certain ideas, it seems to me, which enter no head but
an Englishman's.

I was invited by Count A---- B---- to Milan, and the countess
wrote me a charming letter, begging me to get her two pieces of
sarcenet, of which she enclosed the patterns.

After taking leave of all my friends and acquaintances I got a
letter of credit on the banker, Greppi, and started for the
capital of Lombardy.

My separation from Agatha cost me many tears, but not so many as
those shed by her.  Her mother wept also, for she loved me, and
was grateful for all my kindness to her daughter.  She said again
and again that she could never have borne any rival but her own
daughter, while the latter sobbed out that she wished she had not
to part from me.

I did not like Passano, so I sent him to his family at Genoa,
giving him the wherewithal to live till I came for him.  As to my
man, I dismissed him for good reasons and took another, as I was
obliged to have somebody; but since I lost my Spaniard I have
never felt confidence in any of my servants.

I travelled with a Chevalier de Rossignan, whose acquaintance I
had made, and we went by Casal to see the opera-bouffe there.

Rossignan was a fine man, a good soldier, fond of wine and women,
and, though he was not learned, he knew the whole of Dante's
Divine Comedy by heart.  This was his hobby-horse, and he was
always quoting it, making the passage square with his momentary
feelings.  This made him insufferable in society, but he was an
amusing companion for anyone who knew the sublime poet, and could
appreciate his numerous and rare beauties.  Nevertheless he made
me privately give in my assent to the proverb, Beware of the man
of one book.  Otherwise he was intelligent, statesmanlike, and
good-natured.  He made himself known at Berlin by his services as
ambassador to the King of Sardinia.

There was nothing interesting in the opera at Casal, so I went to
Pavia, where, though utterly unknown, I was immediately welcomed
by the Marchioness Corti, who received all strangers of any
importance.  In 1786 I made the acquaintance of her son, an
admirable man, who honoured me with his friendship, and died quite
young in Flanders with the rank of major-general.  I wept bitterly
for his loss, but tears, after all, are but an idle tribute to
those who cause them to flow.  His good qualities had endeared him
to all his acquaintances, and if he had lived longer he would
undoubtedly have risen to high command in the army.

I only stopped two days at Pavia, but it was decreed that I should
get myself talked of, even in that short time.

At the second ballet at the opera an actress dressed in a tippet
held out her cap to the bones as if to beg an alms, while she was
dancing a pas de deux.  I was in the Marchioness of Corti's box,
and when the girl held out her cap to me I was moved by feelings
of ostentation and benevolence to draw forth my purse and drop it
in.  It contained about twenty ducats.  The girl took it, thanked
me with a smile, and the pit applauded loudly.  I asked the
Marquis Belcredi, who was near me, if she had a lover.

"She has a penniless French officer, I believe," he replied;
"there he is, in the pit."

I went back to my inn, and was supping with M. Basili, a Modenese
colonel, when the ballet girl, her mother, and her younger sister
came to thank me for my providential gift.  "We are so poor," said
the girl.

I had almost done supper, and I asked them all to sup with me
after the performance the next day.  This offer was quite a
disinterested one, and it was accepted.

I was delighted to have made a woman happy at so little expense
and without any ulterior objects, and I was giving orders to the
landlord for the supper, when Clairmont, my man, told me that a
French officer wanted to speak to me.  I had him in, and asked
what I could do for him.

"There are three courses before you, Mr. Venetian," said he, "and
you can take which you like.  Either countermand this supper,
invite me to come to it, or come and measure swords with me now."

Clairmont, who was attending to the fire, did not give me time to
reply, but seized a burning brand and rushed on the officer, who
thought it best to escape.  Luckily for him the door of my room
was open.  He made such a noise in running downstairs that the
waiter came out and caught hold of him, thinking he had stolen
something; but Clairmont, who was pursuing him with his firebrand,
had him released.

This adventure became town talk directly.  My servant, proud of
his exploit and sure of my approval, came to tell me that I need
not be afraid of going out, as the officer was only a braggart. 
He did not even draw his sword on the waiter who had caught hold
of him, though the man only had a knife in his belt.

"At all events," he added, "I will go out with you."

I told him that he had done well this time, but that for the
future he must not interfere in my affairs.

"Sir," he replied, "your affairs of this kind are mine too, I
shall take care not to go beyond my duty."

With this speech, which I thought very sensible, though I did not
tell him so, he took one of my pistols and saw to the priming,
smiling at me significantly.

All good French servants are of the same stamp as Clairmont; they
are devoted and intelligent, but they all think themselves
cleverer than their masters, which indeed is often the case, and
when they are sure of it they become the masters of their masters,
tyrannize over them, and give them marks of contempt which the
foolish gentlemen endeavour to conceal.  But when the master knows
how to make himself respected, the Clairmonts are excellent.

The landlord of my inn sent a report of the affair to the police,
and the French officer was banished from the town the same day. 
At dinner Colonel Basili asked to hear the story, and said that no
one but a French officer would think of attacking a man in his own
room in such a foolish manner.  I differed from him.

"The French are brave," I replied, "but generally they are
perfectly polite and have wonderful tact.  Wretchedness and love,
joined to a false spirit of courage, makes a fool of a man all the
world over."

At supper the ballet-girl thanked me for ridding her of the poor
devil, who (as she said) was always threatening to kill her, and
wearied her besides.  Though she was not beautiful, there was
something captivating about this girl.  She was graceful, well-
mannered, and intelligent, her mouth was well-shaped, and her eyes
large and expressive.  I think I should have found her a good
bargain, but as I wanted to get away from Pavia, and piqued myself
on having been good-natured without ulterior motive, I bade her
farewell after supper, with many thanks for her kindness in
coming.  My politeness seemed rather to confuse her, but she went
away reiterating her gratitude.

Next day I dined at the celebrated Chartreuse, and in the evening
I reached Milan, and got out at Count A---- B----'s, who had not
expected me till the following day.

The countess, of whom my fancy had made a perfect woman,
disappointed me dreadfully.  It is always so when passion gives
reins to the imagination.  The Countess was certainly pretty,
though too small, and I might still have loved her, in spite of my
disappointment, but at our meeting she greeted me with a gravity
that was not to my taste, and which gave me a dislike to her.

After the usual compliments, I gave her the two pieces of sarcenet
she had commissioned me to get.  She thanked me, telling me that
her confessor would reimburse me for my expenditure.  The count
then took me to my room, and left me there till supper.  It was
nicely furnished, but I felt ill at ease, and resolved to leave in
a day or two if the countess remained immovable.  Twenty-four
hours was as much as I cared to give her.

We made a party of four at supper; the count talking all the time
to draw me out, and to hide his wife's sulkiness.  I answered in
the same gay strain, speaking to his wife, however, in the hope of
rousing her.  It was all lost labour.  The little woman only
replied by faint smiles which vanished almost as they came, and by
monosyllabic answers of the briefest description, without taking
her eyes off the dishes which she thought tasteless; and it was to
the priest, who was the fourth person present, that she addressed
her complaints, almost speaking affably to him.

Although I liked the count very well, I could not help pronouncing
his wife decidedly ungracious.  I was looking at her to see if I
could find any justification for her ill humour on her features,
but as soon as she saw me she turned away in a very marked manner,
and began to speak about nothing to the priest.  This conduct
offended me, and I laughed heartily at her contempt, or her
designs on me, for as she had not fascinated me at all I was safe
from her tyranny.

After supper the sarcenet was brought in; it was to be used for a
dress with hoops, made after the extravagant fashion then
prevailing.

The count was grieved to see her fall so short of the praises he
had lavished on her, and came to my room with me, begging me to
forgive her Spanish ways, and saying that she would be very
pleasant when she knew me better.

The count was poor, his house was small, his furniture shabby, and
his footman's livery threadbare; instead of plate he had china,
and one of the countess's maids was chief cook.  He had no
carriages nor horses, not even a saddle horse of any kind. 
Clairmont gave me all this information, and added that he had to
sleep in a little kitchen, and was to share his bed with the man
who had waited at table.

I had only one room, and having three heavy trunks found myself
very uncomfortable, and I decided on seeking some other lodging
more agreeable to my tastes.

The count came early in the morning to ask what I usually took for
breakfast.

"My dear count," I replied, "I have enough fine Turin chocolate to
go all round.  Does the countess like it?"

"Very much, but she won't take it unless it is made by her woman."

"Here are six pounds: make her accept it, and tell her that if I
hear anything about payment I shall take it back."

"I am sure she will accept it, and thank you too.  Shall I have
your carriage housed?"

"I shall be extremely obliged to you, and I shall be glad if you
would get me a hired carriage, and a guide for whom you can
answer."

"It shall be done."

The count was going out when the priest, who had supped with us
the night before, came in to make his bow.  He was a man of forty-
one of the tribe of domestic chaplains who are so common in Italy
--who, in return for keeping the accounts of the house, live with
its master and mistress.  In the morning this priest said mass in
a neighbouring church, for the rest of the day he either occupied
himself with the cares of the house, or was the lady's obedient
servant.

As soon as We were alone he begged me to say that he had paid me
the three hundred Milanese crowns for the sarcenet, if the
countess asked me about it.

"Dear, dear, abbe!" said I, laughing, "this sort of thing is not
exactly proper in a man of your sacred profession.  How can you
advise me to tell a lie?  No, sir; if the countess asks me any
such impertinent question, I shall tell her the truth."

"I am sure she will ask you, and if you answer like that I shall
suffer for it."

"Well, sir, if you are in the wrong you deserve to suffer."

"But as it happens, I should be blamed for nothing."

"Well, go and tell her it's a present; and if she won't have that,
tell her I am in no hurry to be paid."

"I see, sir, that you don't know the lady or the way in which this
house is managed.  I will speak to her husband."

In a quarter of an hour the count told me that he owed me a lot of
money, which he hoped to pay back in the course of Lent, and that
I must add the sarcenet to the account.  I embraced him and said
that he would have to keep the account himself, as I never noted
down any of the moneys that I was only too happy to lend to my
friends.

"If your wife asks me whether I have received the money, be sure I
will answer in the affirmative."

He went out shedding grateful tears, while I felt indebted to him
for having given me the opportunity of doing him a service; for I
was very fond of him.

In the morning, the countess being invisible, I watched my man
spreading out my suits over the chairs, amongst them being some
handsome women's cloaks, and a rich red dress deeply trimmed with
fur, which had been originally intended for the luckless
Corticelli.  I should no doubt have given it to Agatha, if I had
continued to live with her, and I should have made a mistake, as
such a dress was only fit for a lady of rank.

At one o'clock I received another visit from the count, who told
me that the countess was going to introduce me to their best
friend.  This was the Marquis Triuizi, a man of about, my own age,
tall, well made, squinting slightly, and with all the manner of a
nobleman.  He told me that besides coming to have the honour of my
acquaintance, he also came to enjoy the fire, "for," said he,
"there's only one fireplace in the house and that's in your room."

As all the chairs were covered, the marquis drew the countess on
to his knee and made her sit there like a baby; but she blushed,
and escaped from his grasp.  The marquis laughed heartily at her
confusion, and she said,--

"Is it possible that a man of your years has not yet learnt to
respect a woman?"

"Really, countess," said he, "I thought it would be very
disrespectful to continue sitting while you were standing."

While Clairmont was taking the clothes off the chairs, the marquis
noticed the mantles and the beautiful dress, and asked me if I
were expecting a lady.

"No," said I, "but I hope to find someone at Milan who will be
worthy of such presents."  I added, "I know the Prince Triulzi, at
Venice; I suppose he is of your family?"

"He says he is, and it may be so; but I am certainly not a member
of his family."

This let me know that I should do well to say no more about the
prince.

"You must stay to dinner, marquis," said Count A---- B----; "and
as you only like dishes prepared by your own cook you had better
send for them."

The marquis agreed, and we made good cheer.  The table was covered
with fair linen and handsome plate, the wine was good and
plentiful, and the servants quick and well dressed.  I could now
understand the marquis's position in the house.  It was his wit
and mirth which kept the conversation going, and the countess came
in for a share of his pleasantries, while she scolded him for his
familiarity.

I could see, however, that the marquis did not want to humiliate
her; on the contrary, he was fond of her, and only wished to bring
down her exaggerated pride.  When he saw her on the point of
bursting into tears of rage and shame, he quieted her down by
saying that no one in Milan respected her charms and her high
birth more than he.

After dinner the tailor who was to measure the countess for a
domino for the ball was announced.  On the marquis's praising the
colours and the beauty of the materials, she told him that I had
brought her the sarcenet from Turin, and this reminded her to ask
me whether I had been paid.

"Your husband settled with me," said I, "but you have given me a
lesson I can never forget."

"What lesson?" said the marquis.

"I had hoped that the countess would have deigned to receive this
poor present at my hands."

"And she wouldn't take it?  It's absurd, on my life."

"There is nothing to laugh at," said the countess, "but you laugh
at everything."

While the man was measuring her, she complained of feeling cold,
as she was in her stays, and her beautiful breast was exposed. 
Thereupon, the marquis put his hands on it, as if he were quite
accustomed to use such familiarities.  But the Spaniard, no doubt
ashamed because of my presence, got into a rage, and abused him in
the most awful manner, while he laughed pleasantly, as if he could
calm the storm when he pleased.  This was enough to inform me of
the position in which they stood to one another, and of the part I
ought to take.

We remained together till the evening, when the countess and the
marquis went to the opera, and the count came with me to my room,
till my carriage was ready to take us there too.  The opera had
begun when we got in, and the first person I noticed on the stage
was my dear Therese Palesi, whom I had left at Florence.  It was a
pleasant surprise to me, and I foresaw that we should renew our
sweet interviews while I remained at Milan I was discreet enough
to say nothing to the count about his wife's charms, or the way
their house was managed.  I saw that the place was taken, and the
odd humours of the lady prevented my falling in love with her. 
After the second act we went to the assembly rooms, where five or
six banks at faro were being held; I staked and lost a hundred
ducats as if to pay for my welcome, and then rose from the table.

At supper the countess seemed to unbend a little, she condoled
with me on my loss, and I said that I was glad of it as it made
her speak so.

Just as I rang my bell the next morning, Clairmont told me that a
woman wanted to speak to me.

"Is she young?"

"Both young and pretty, sir."

"That will do nicely, shew her in."

I saw a simply dressed girl, who reminded me of Leah.  She was
tall and beautiful, but had not as high pretensions as the Jewess;
as she only wanted to know whether she could do my washing for me. 
I was quite taken with her.  Clairmont had just brought me my
chocolate, and I asked her to sit down on the bed; but she
answered modestly that she did not want to trouble me, and would
come again when I was up.

"Do you live at any distance?"

"I live on the ground floor of this house."

"All by yourself?"

"No sir, I have my father and mother."

"And what is your name?"

"Zenobia."

"Your name is as pretty as you are.  Will you give me your hand to
kiss?"

"I can't," she replied, with a smile, "my hand is another's."

"You are engaged, are you?"

"Yes, to a tailor, and we are going to be married before the end
of the carnival:"

"Is he rich or handsome?"

"Neither the one nor the other."

"Then why are you going to marry him?"

"Because I want to have a house of my own:"

"I like you, and will stand your friend.  Go and fetch your
tailor.  I will give him some work to do."

As soon as she went out I got up and told Clairmont to put my
linen on a table.  I had scarcely finished dressing when she came
back with her tailor.  It was a striking contrast, for he was a
little shrivelled-up man, whose appearance made one laugh.

"Well, master tailor," said I, "so you are going to marry this
charming girl?"

"Yes, sir, the banns have been published already."

"You are a lucky fellow indeed to have so much happiness in store. 
When are you going to marry her?"

"In ten or twelve days."

"Why not to-morrow?"

"Your worship is in a great hurry."

"I think I should be, indeed," said I, laughing, "if I were in
your place.  I want you to make me a domino for the ball to-
morrow."

"Certainly, sir; but your excellency must find me the stuff, for
nobody in Milan would give me credit for it, and I couldn't afford
to lay out so much money in advance."

"When you are married you will have money and credit too.  In the
meanwhile here are ten sequins for you."

He went away in high glee at such a windfall.

I gave Zenobia some lace to do up, and asked her if she was afraid
of having a jealous husband.

"He is neither jealous nor amorous," she replied.  "He is only
marrying me because I earn more than he does."

"With your charms I should have thought you might have made a
better match."

"I have waited long enough; I have got tired of maidenhood. 
Besides, he is sharp if he is not handsome, and perhaps a keen
head is better than a handsome face."

"You are sharp enough yourself, anyhow.  But why does he put off
the wedding?"

"Because he hasn't got any money, and wants to have a fine wedding
for his relations to come to.  I should like it myself."

"I think you are right; but I can't see why you should not let an
honest man kiss your hand."

"That was only a piece of slyness to let you know I was to be
married.  I have no silly prejudices myself."

"Ah, that's better!  Tell your future husband that if he likes me
to be the patron of the wedding I will pay for everything."

"Really?"

"Yes, really.  I will give him twenty-five sequins on the
condition that he spends it all on the wedding."

"Twenty-five sequins!  That will make people talk; but what care
we?  I will give you an answer to-morrow."

"And a kiss now?"

"With all my heart."

Zenobia went away in great delight, and I went out to call on my
banker and dear Therese.

When the door was opened the pretty maid recognized me, and taking
me by the hand led me to her mistress, who was just going to get
up.  Her emotion at seeing me was so great that she could not
utter a word, but only claps me to her breast.

Our natural transports over, Therese told me that she had got
tired of her husband, and that for the last six months they had
not been living together.  She had made him an allowance to get
rid of him, and he lived on it at Rome.

"And where is Cesarino?"

"In this town.  You can see him whenever you like."

"Are you happy?"

"Quite.  People say that I have a lover, but it is not true; and
you can see me at any time with perfect liberty."

We spent two pleasant hours in telling each other of our
experiences since our last meeting, and then, finding her as fresh
and fair as in the season of our early loves, I asked her if she
had vowed to be faithful to her husband.

"At Florence," she replied, "I was still in love with him; but
now, if I am still pleasing in your eyes, we can renew our
connection, and live together till we die."

"I will soon shew you, dearling, that I love you as well as ever."

She answered only by giving herself up to my embrace.

After action and contemplation I left her as amorous as she had
been eighteen years before, but my passion found too many new
objects to remain constant long. 

Countess A---- B---- began to be more polite.  "I know where you
have been," said she, with a pleased air; "but if you love that
person, you will not go and see her again, or else her lover will
leave her."

"Then I would take his place, madam."

"You are right in amusing yourself with women who know how to earn
your presents.  I am aware that you never give anything till you
have received evident proofs of their affection."

"That has always been my principle."

"It's an excellent way to avoid being duped.  The lover of the
person you have been with kept a lady in society for some time in
great splendour, but all the rest of us despised her."

"Why so, if you please?"

"Because she lowered herself so terribly.  Greppi is absolutely a
man of no family whatever."

Without expressing my surprise at the name of Greppi, I replied
that a man need not be well born to be an excellent lover.

"The only thing needful," said I, "is a fine physique and plenty
of money, and those ladies who despised their friend were either
ridiculously proud or abominably envious.  I have not the
slightest doubt that if they could find any more Gieppis they
would be willing enough to lower themselves."

She would doubtless have made a sharp reply, for what I had said
had angered her; but the Marquis Triulzi arriving, she went out
with him, while her husband and myself went to a place where there
was a bank at faro, the banker only having a hundred sequins
before him.

I took a card and staked small sums like the rest of the company. 
After losing twenty ducats I left the place.

As we were going to the opera the poor count told me I had made
him lose ten ducats on his word of honour, and that he did not
know how he could pay it by the next day.  I pitied him, and gave
him the money without a word; for misery has always appealed
strongly to me.  Afterwards I lost two hundred ducats at the same
bank to which I had lost money the evening before.  The count was
in the greatest distress.  He did not know that Greppi, whom his
proud wife considered so worthless, had a hundred thousand francs
of my money, and that I possessed jewellery to an even greater
amount.

The countess, who had seen me lose, asked me if I would sell my
beautiful dress.

"They say it's worth a thousand sequins," said she.

"Yes, that is so; but I would sell everything I possess before
parting with any of the articles which I intend for the fair sex."

"Marquis Triulzi wants it badly to present to someone."

"I am very sorry, but I cannot sell it to him."

She went away without a word, but I could see that she was
exceedingly vexed at my refusal.

As I was leaving the opera-house I saw Therese getting into her
sedan-chair.  I went up to her, and told her that I was sure she
was going to sup with her lover.  She whispered in my ear that she
was going to sup by herself, and that I might come if I dared.  I
gave her an agreeable surprise by accepting the invitation.

"I will expect you, then," she said.

I asked the count to ride home in my carriage, and taking a chair
I reached Therese's house just as she was going in.

What a happy evening we had!  We laughed heartily when we told
each other our thoughts.

"I know you were in love with Countess A---- B---- ," said she,
"and I felt sure you would not dare to come to supper with me."

"And I thought I should confound you by accepting your invitation,
as I knew Greppi was your lover."

"He is my friend," she replied.  "If he loves me in any other way
than that of friendship, I pity him, for as yet he has not
discovered the secret of seduction."

"Do you think he ever will?"

"No, I don't.  I am rich."

"Yes, but he is richer than you."

"I know that, but I think he loves his money better than he loves
me."

"I understand.  You will make him happy if he loves you well
enough to ruin himself."

"That is it, but it will never come to pass.  But here we are,
together again after a divorce of nearly twenty years.  I don't
think you will find any change in me."

"That is a privilege which nature grants to the fair sex only. 
You will find me changed, but you will be able to work miracles."

This was a piece of politeness, for she was hardly capable of
working any miracle.  However, after an excellent supper, we spent
two hours in amorous raptures, and then Morpheus claimed us for
his own.  When we awoke I did not leave her before giving her a
good day equal to the good night which had sent us to sleep.

When I got back I found the fair Zenobia, who said the tailor was
ready to marry her next Sunday if my offer was not a joke.

"To convince you of the contrary," said I, "here are the twenty-
five sequins."

Full of gratitude she let herself fall into my arms, and I covered
her mouth and her beautiful bosom with my fiery kisses.  Therese
had exhausted me, so I did not go any further, but the girl no
doubt attributed my self-restraint to the fact that the door was
open.  I dressed carefully, and made myself look less weary, and
to freshen myself up I had a long drive in an open carriage.

When I returned, I found the Marquis of Triulzi teasing the
countess as usual.  On that day he furnished the dinner, and it
was consequently, a very good one.

The conversation turned on the dress in my possession, and the
countess told the marquis, like an idiot, that it was destined for
the lady who would make me desirous and gratify my desire.

With exquisite politeness the marquis told me that I deserved to
enjoy favours at a cheaper rate.

"I suppose you will be giving it to the person with whom you spent
the night," said the countess.

"That's an impossibility," I answered, "for I spent the night in
play."

Just then Clairmont came in, and told me an officer wanted to
speak to me.  I went to the door, and saw a handsome young fellow,
who greeted me with an embrace.  I recognized him as Barbaro, the
son of a Venetian noble, and brother of the fair and famous Madame
Gritti Scombro, of whom I spoke ten years ago, whose husband had
died in the citadel of Cattaro, where the State Inquisitors had
imprisoned him.  My young friend had also fallen into disgrace
with the despotic Inquisitors.  We had been good friends during
the year before my imprisonment, but I had heard nothing of him
since.

Barbaro told me the chief incidents in a life that had been
adventurous enough, and informed me that he was now in the service
of the Duke of Modena, the Governor of Milan.

"I saw you losing money at Canano's bank," said he, "and
remembering our old friendship I want to communicate to you a sure
way of winning money.  All that is necessary is for me to
introduce you to a club of young men who are very fond of play,
and cannot possibly win."

"Where does this club meet?"

"In an extremely respectable house.  If you agree I will keep the
bank myself, and I am sure of winning.  I want you to lend me
capital, and I only ask a fourth of the profits."

"I suppose you can hold the cards well."

"You are right."

This was as much as to tell me that he was an adroit sharper, or,
in other words, a skilful corrector of fortune's mistakes.  He
concluded by saying that I should find something worth looking at
in the house he had mentioned.

"My dear sir," I replied, "I will give you my decision after
seeing the club to which you want to introduce me."

"Will you be at the theatre coffee-house at three o'clock to-
morrow?"

"Yes, but I hope to see you at the ball in the evening."

Zenobia's betrothed brought me my domino, and the countess had
hers already.  As the ball did not begin till the opera was over,
I went to hear Therese's singing.  In the interval between the
acts I lost another two hundred sequins, and then went home to
dress for the ball.  The countess said that if I would be kind
enough to take her to the ball in my carriage and fetch her home
in it, she would not send for the Marquis Triulzi's.  I replied
that I was at her service.

Under the impression that the fair Spaniard had only given me the
preference to enable me to take liberties with her, I told her I
should be very glad to give her the dress, and that the only
condition was that I should spent a night with her.

"You insult me cruelly," said she, "you must know my character
better than that."

"I know everything, my dear countess; but, after all, the insult's
nothing; you can easily forgive me if you pluck up a little
spirit; trample on a foolish prejudice; get the dress, and make me
happy for a whole night long."

"That it all very well when one is in love, but you must confess
that your coarse way of speaking is more likely to make me hate
you than love you."

"I use that style, because I want to come to the point; I have no
time to waste.  And you, countess, must confess in your turn, that
you would be delighted to have me sighing at your feet."

"It would be all the same to me, I don't think I could love you."

"Then we are agreed on one point at all events, for I love you no
more than you love me."

"And yet you would spend a thousand sequins for the pleasure of
passing a night with me."

"Not at all, I don't want to sleep with you for the sake of the
pleasure, but to mortify your infernal pride, which becomes you so
ill."

God knows what the fierce Spaniard would have answered, but at
that moment the carriage stopped at the door of the theatre.  We
parted, and after I had got tired of threading my way amidst the
crowd I paid a visit to the gaming-room, hoping to regain the
money I had lost.  I had more than five hundred sequins about me
and a good credit at the bank, but I certainly did my best to lose
everything I had.  I sat down at Canano's bank, and noticing that
the poor count, who followed me wherever I went, was the only
person who knew me, I thought I should have a lucky evening.  I
only punted on one card, and spent four hours without losing or
gaining.  Towards the end, wishing to force fortune's favour, I
lost rapidly, and left all my money in the hands of the banker.  I
went back to the ball-room, where the countess rejoined me, and we
returned home.

When we were in the carriage, she said,--

"You lost an immense sum, and I am very glad of it.  The marquis
will give you a thousand sequins, and the money will bring you
luck."

"And you, too, for I suppose you will have the dress?"

"Maybe."

"No, madam, you shall never have it in this way, and you know the
other.  I despise a thousand sequins."

"And I despise you and your presents."

"You may despise me as much as you please, and you may be sure I
despise you."

With these polite expressions we reached the house.  When I got to
my room I found the count there with a long face, as if he wanted
to pity me but dared not do it.  However, my good temper gave him
the courage to say:--

"Triulzi will give you a thousand sequins; that will fit you up
again."

"For the dress you mean?"

"Yes."

"I wanted to give it to your wife, but she said she would despise
it, coming from my hands."

"You astonish me; she is mad after it.  You must have wounded her
haughty temper in some way or another.  But sell it, and get the
thousand sequins."

"I will let you know to-morrow."

I slept four or five hours, and then rose and went out in my great
coat to call on Greppi, for I had no more money.  I took a
thousand sequins, begging him not to tell my affairs to anyone. 
He replied that my affairs were his own, and that I could count on
his secrecy.  He complimented me on the esteem in which Madame
Palesi held me, and said he hoped to meet me at supper at her
house one night.

"Such a meeting would give me the greatest pleasure," I replied.

On leaving him I called on Therese, but as there were some people
with her I did not stay long.  I was glad to see that she knew
nothing about my losses or my affairs.  She said that Greppi
wanted to sup with me at her house, and that she would let me know
when the day was fixed.  When I got home I found the count in
front of my fire.

"My wife is in a furious rage with you," said he, "and won't tell
me why."

"The reason is, my dear count, that I won't let her accept the
dress from any hand but mine.  She told me that she should despise
it as a gift from me, but she has nothing to be furious about that
I know."

"It's some mad notion of hers, and I don't know what to make of
it.  But pray attend to what I am about to say to you.  You
despise a thousand sequins--good.  I congratulate you.  But if you
are in a position to despise a sum which would make me happy,
offer up a foolish vanity on the shrine of friendship, take the
thousand sequins, and lend them to me, and let my wife have the
dress, for of course he will give it her."

This proposal made me roar with laughter, and certainly it was of
a nature to excite the hilarity of a sufferer from confirmed
melancholia, which I was far from being.  However, I stopped
laughing when I saw how the poor count blushed from shame.  I
kissed him affectionately to calm him, but at last I was cruel
enough to say,

"I will willingly assist you in this arrangement.  I will sell the
dress to the marquis as soon as you please, but I won't lend you
the money.  I'll give it to you in the person of your wife at a
private interview; but when she receives me she must not only be
polite and complaisant, but as gentle as a lamb.  Go and see if it
can be arranged, my dear count; 'tis absolutely my last word."

"I will see," said the poor husband; and with that he went out.

Barbaro kept his appointment with exactitude.  I made him get into
my carriage, and we alighted at a house at the end of Milan.  We
went to the first floor, and there I was introduced to a fine-
looking old man, an amiable lady of pleasing appearance, and then
to two charming cousins.  He introduced me as a Venetian gentleman
in disgrace with the State Inquisitors, like himself, adding, that
as I was a rich bachelor their good or ill favour made no
difference to me.

He said I was rich, and I looked like it.  My luxury of attire was
dazzling: My rings, my snuff-boxes, my chains, my diamonds, my
jewelled cross hanging on my breast-all gave me the air of an
important personage.  The cross belonged to the Order of the Spur
the Pope had given me, but as I had carefully taken the spur away
it was not known to what order I belonged.  Those who might be
curious did not dare to ask me, for one can no more enquire of a
knight what order he belongs to, than one can say to a lady how
old are you?  I wore it till 1785, when the Prince Palatine of
Russia told me in private that I would do well to get rid of the
thing.

"It only serves to dazzle fools," said he, "and here you have none
such to deal with."

I followed his advice, for he was a man of profound intelligence. 
Nevertheless, he removed the corner-stone of the kingdom of
Poland.  He ruined it by the same means by which he had made it
greater.

The old man to whom Barbaro presented me was a marquis.  He told
me that he knew Venice, and as I was not a patrician I could live
as pleasantly anywhere else.  He told me to consider his house and
all he possessed as mine.

The two young marchionesses had enchanted me; they were almost
ideal beauties.  I longed to enquire about them of some good
authority, for I did not put much faith in Barbaro.

In half an hour the visitors commenced to come on foot and in
carriages.  Among the arrivals were several pretty and well-
dressed girls, and numerous smart young men all vying with each
other in their eagerness to pay court to the two cousins.  There
were twenty of us in all.  We sat round a large table, and began
to play a game called bankruptcy.  After amusing myself for a
couple of hours in losing sequins, I went out with Barbaro to the
opera.

"The two young ladies are two incarnate angels," I said to my
countryman.  "I shall pay my duty to them, and shall find out in a
few days whether they are for me.  As for the gaming speculation,
I will lend you two hundred sequins; but I don't want to lose the
money, so you must give me good security."

"To that I agree willingly, but I am certain of giving it you back
with good interest."

"You shall have a half share and not twenty-five per cent., and I
must strongly insist that nobody shall know of my having anything
to do with your bank.  If I hear any rumours, I shall bet heavily
on my own account."

"You may be sure I shall keep the secret; it is to my own interest
to have it believed that I am my own capitalist."

"Very good.  Come to me early to-morrow morning, and bring me good
security, and you shall have the money."

He embraced me in the joy of his heart.

The picture of the two fair ladies was still in my brain, and I
was thinking of enquiring of Greppi when I chanced to see Triulzi
in the pit of the opera-house.  He saw me at the same moment, and
came up to me, saying gaily that he was sure I had had a bad
dinner, and that I had much better dine with him every day.

"You make me blush, marquis, for not having called on you yet."

"No, no; there can be nothing of that kind between men of the
world, who know the world's worth."

"We are agreed there, at all events."

"By the way, I hear you have decided on selling me that handsome
dress of yours.  I am really very much obliged to you, and will
give you the fifteen thousand livres whenever you like."

"You can come and take it to-morrow morning."

He then proceeded to tell me about the various ladies I noticed in
the theatre.  Seizing the opportunity, I said,--

"When I was in church the other day I saw two exquisite beauties. 
A man at my side told me they were cousins, the Marchionesses Q---
- and I----, I think he said.  Do you know them?  I am quite
curious to hear about them."

"I know them.  As you say, they are charming.  It's not very
difficult to obtain access to them; and I suppose they are good
girls, as I have not heard their names in connection with any
scandal.  However, I know that Mdlle. F has a lover, but it is a
great secret; he is the only son of one of the noblest of our
families.  Unfortunately, they are not rich; but if they are
clever, as I am sure they are, they may make good matches.  If you
like I can get someone to introduce you there."

"I haven't made up my mind yet.  I may be able to forget them
easily only having seen them once.  Nevertheless, I am infinitely
obliged to you for your kind offer"

After the ballet I went into the assembly-room and I heard "there
he is" several times repeated as I came in.  The banker made me a
bow, and offered me a place next to him.  I sat down and he handed
me a pack of cards.  I punted, and with such inveterate bad luck
that in less than an hour I lost seven hundred sequins.  I should
probably have lost all the money I had in my pocket if Canano had
not been obliged to go away.  He gave the cards to a man whose
looks displeased me, and I rose and went home and got into bed
directly, so as not to be obliged to conceal my ill temper.

In the morning Barbaro came to claim the two hundred sequins.  He
gave me the right to sequestrate his pay by way of surety.  I do
not think I should have had the heart to exercise my rights if
things had gone wrong, but I liked to have some control over him. 
When I went out I called on Greppi, and took two thousand sequins
in gold.