"It is somebody whom you know, So and so, he saw me here, and we are going to open a hair-dresser's shop."
"The marriage was arranged by good Father St. Barnabe," added the mother. "He has in his keeping my daughter's dower of four hundred Roman crowns."
"He's a good lad," said Momolo. "I have a high opinion of him; he would have married one of my daughters if I could have given him such a dowry."
At these words the girl in question blushed and lowered her eyes.
"Never mind, my dear," said I, "your turn will come in time."
She took my words as seriously meant, and her face lit up with joy. She thought I had guessed her love for Costa, and her idea was confirmed when I told him to get my landau the next day and take out all Momolo's daughters, well masked, as it would not do for them to be recognized in a carriage I meant to make use of myself. I also bade him hire some handsome costumes from a Jew, and paid the hire-money myself. This put them all in a good humour.
"How about Signora Maria?" said the jealous sister.
"As Signora Maria is going to be married," I replied, "she must not be present at any festivity without her future husband."
The mother applauded this decision of mine, and sly Mariuccia pretended to feel mortified. I turned to Momolo and begged him to ask Mariuccia's future husband to meet me at supper, by which I
pleased her mother greatly.
I felt very tired, and having nothing to keep me after seeing Mariuccia, I begged the company to excuse me, and after wishing them a good appetite I left them.
I walked out next morning at an early hour. I had no need of going into the church, which I reached at seven o'clock, for Mariuccia saw me at some distance off and followed me, and we were soon alone together in the little room, which love and voluptuous pleasure had transmuted into a sumptuous place. We would gladly have talked to each other, but as we had only an hour before us, we set to without even taking off our clothes. After the last kiss which ended the third assault, she told me that she was to be married on the eve of Shrove Tuesday, and that all had been arranged by her confessor. She also thanked me for having asked Momolo to invite her intended.
"When shall we see each other again, my angel?"
"On Sunday, the eve of my wedding, we shall be able to spend four hours together."
"Delightful! I promise you that when you leave me you will be in such a state that the caresses of your husband won't hurt you."
She smiled and departed, and I threw myself on the bed where I
rested for a good hour.
As I was going home I met a carriage and four going at a great speed. A footman rode in front of the carriage, and within it I
saw a young nobleman. My attention was arrested by the blue ribbon on his breast. I gazed at him, and he called out my name and had the carriage stopped. I was extremely surprised when I
found it was Lord O'Callaghan, whom I had known at Paris at his mother's, the Countess of Lismore, who was separated from her husband, and was the kept mistress of M. de St. Aubin, the unworthy successor of the good and virtuous Fenelon in the archbishopric of Cambrai. However, the archbishop owed his promotion to the fact that he was a bastard of the Duc d'Orleans, the French Regent.
Lord O'Callaghan was a fine-looking young man, with wit and talent, but the slave of his unbridled passions and of every species of vice. I knew that if he were lord in name he was not so in fortune, and I was astonished to see him driving such a handsome carriage, and still more so at his blue ribbon. In a few words he told me that he was going to dine with the Pretender, but that he would sup at home. He invited me to come to supper, and I
accepted.
After dinner I took a short walk, and then went to enliven myself at the theatre, where I saw Momolo's girls strutting about with Costa; afterwards I went to Lord O'Callaghan, and was pleasantly surprised to meet the poet Poinsinet. He was young, short, ugly, full of poetic fire, a wit, and dramatist. Five or six years later the poor fellow fell into the Guadalquivir and was drowned.
He had gone to Madrid in the hope of making his fortune. As I had known him at Paris I addressed him as an old acquaintance.
"What are you doing at Rome? Where's my Lord O'Callaghan?"
"He's in the next room, but as his father is dead his title is now Earl of Lismore. You know he was an adherent of the Pretender's.
I left Paris with him, well enough pleased at being able to come to Rome without its costing me anything."
"Then the earl is a rich man now?"
"Not exactly; but he will be, as he is his father's heir, and the old earl left an immense fortune. It is true that it is all confiscated, but that is nothing, as his claims are irresistible."
"In short, he is rich in claims and rich in the future; but how did he get himself made a knight of one of the French king's orders?"
"You're joking. That is the blue ribbon of the Order of St.
Michael, of which the late Elector of Cologne was grand master.
As you know, my lord plays exquisitely on the violin, and when he was at Bonn he played the Elector a concerto by Tartini. The prince could not find words in which to express the pleasure of my lord's performance, and gave him the ribbon you have seen."
"A fine present, doubtless."
"You don't know what pleasure it gave my lord, for when we go back to Paris everybody will take it for the Order of the Holy Ghost."
We passed into a large room, where we found the earl with the party he had asked to supper. As soon as he saw me he embraced me, called me his dear friend, and named his guests. There were seven or eight girls, all of them pretty, three or four castrati who played women's parts in the Roman theatre, and five or six abbes, the husband of every wife and the wives of every husband, who boasted of their wickedness, and challenged the girls to be more shameless than they. The girls were not common courtezans, but past mistresses of music, painting, and vice considered as a fine art. The kind of society may be imagined when I say that I
found myself a perfect novice amongst them.
"Where are you going, prince?" said the earl to a respectable-
