Cardinal Passianei--The Pope--Masiuccia--I Arrive At Naples
Cardinal Passionei received me in a large hall where he was writing. He
begged me to wait till he had finished, but he could not ask me to take a
seat as he occupied the only chair that his vast room contained.
When he had put down his pen, he rose, came to me, and after informing me
that he would tell the Holy Father of my visit, he added,--
"My brother Cornaro might have made a better choice, as he knows the Pope
does not like me."
"He thought it better to choose the man who is esteemed than the man who
is merely liked."
"I don't know whether the Pope esteems me, but I am sure he knows I don't
esteem him. I both liked and esteemed him before he was pope, and I
concurred in his election, but since he has worn the tiara it's a
different matter; he has shewn himself too much of a 'coglione'."
"The conclave ought to have chosen your eminence."
"No, no; I'm a root-and-branch reformer, and my hand would not have been
stayed for fear of the vengeance of the guilty, and God alone knows what
would have come of that. The only cardinal fit to be pope was Tamburini;
but it can't be helped now. I hear people coming; good-bye, come again
to-morrow."
What a delightful thing to have heard a cardinal call the Pope a fool,
and name Tamburini as a fit person. I did not lose a moment in noting
this pleasant circumstance down: it was too precious a morsel to let
slip. But who was Tamburini? I had never heard of him. I asked
Winckelmann, who dined with me.
"He's a man deserving of respect for his virtues, his character, his
firmness, and his farseeing intelligence. He has never disguised his
opinion of the Jesuits, whom he styles the fathers of deceits, intrigues,
and lies; and that's what made Passionei mention him. I think, with him,
that Tamburini would be a great and good pope."
I will here note down what I heard at Rome nine years later from the
mouth of a tool of the Jesuits. The Cardinal Tamburini was at the last
gasp, and the conversation turned upon him, when somebody else said,--
"This Benedictine cardinal is an impious fellow after all; he is on his
death-bed, and he has asked for the viaticum, without wishing to purify
his soul by confession."
I did not make any remark, but feeling as if I should like to know the
truth of the matter I asked somebody about it next day, my informant
being a person who must have known the truth, and could not have had any
motive for disguising the real facts of the case. He told me that the
cardinal had said mass three days before, and that if he had not asked
for a confessor it was doubtless because he had nothing to confess.
Unfortunate are they that love the truth, and do not seek it out at its
source. I hope the reader will pardon this digression, which is not
without interest.
Next day I went to see Cardinal Passionei, who told me I was quite right
to come early, as he wanted to learn all about my escape from The Leads,
of which he had heard some wonderful tales told.
"I shall be delighted to satisfy your eminence, but the story is a long
one."
"All the better; they say you tell it well."
"But, my lord, am I to sit down on the floor?"
"No, no; your dress is too good for that."
He rang his bell, and having told one of his gentlemen to send up a seat,
a servant brought in a stool. A seat without a back and without arms! It
made me quite angry. I cut my story short, told it badly, and had
finished in a quarter of an hour.
"I write better than you speak," said he.
"My lord, I never speak well except when I am at my ease."
"But you are not afraid of me?"
"No, my lord, a true man and a philosopher can never make me afraid; but
this stool of yours . . . ."
"You like to be at your ease, above all things."
"Take this, it is the funeral oration of Prince Eugene; I make you a
present of it. I hope you will approve of my Latinity. You can kiss the
Pope's feet tomorrow at ten o'clock."
When I got home, as I reflected on the character of this strange
cardinal--a wit, haughty, vain, and boastful, I resolved to make him a
fine present. It was the 'Pandectarum liber unicus' which M. de F. had
given me at Berne, and which I did not know what to do with. It was a
folio well printed on fine paper, choicely bound, and in perfect
preservation. As chief librarian the present should be a valuable one to
him, all the more as he had a large private library, of which my friend
the Abbe Winckelmann was librarian. I therefore wrote a short Latin
letter, which I enclosed in another to Winckelmann, whom I begged to
present my offering to his eminence.
I thought it was as valuable as his funeral oration at any rate, and I
hoped that he would give me a more comfortable chair for the future.
Next morning, at the time appointed, I went to Monte Cavallo, which ought
to be called Monte Cavalli, as it gets its name from two fine statues of
horses standing on a pedestal in the midst of the square, where the Holy
Father's palace is situated.
I had no real need of being presented to the Pope by anyone, as any
Christian is at liberty to go in when he sees the door open. Besides I
had known His Holiness when he was Bishop of Padua; but I had preferred
to claim the honor of being introduced by a cardinal.
After saluting the Head of the Faithful, and kissing the holy cross
embroidered on his holy slipper, the Pope put his right hand on my left
shoulder, and said he remembered that I always forsook the assembly at
Padua, when he intoned the Rosary.
"Holy Father, I have much worse sins than that on my conscience, so I
come prostrate at your foot to receive your absolution."
He then gave me his benediction, and asked me very graciously what he
could do for me.
"I beg Your Holiness to plead for me, that I may be able to return to
Venice."
"We will speak of it to the ambassador, and then we will speak again to
you on the matter."
"Do you often go and see Cardinal Passionei?"
"I have been three times. He gave me his funeral oration on Prince
Eugene, and in return I sent him the 'Pandects'."
"Has he accepted them?"
"I think so, Holy Father."
"If he has, he will send Winckelmann to pay you for them."
"That would be treating me like a bookseller; I will not receive any
payment."
"Then he will return the volume of the 'Pandects'; we are sure of it, he
always does so."
"If his eminence returns me the 'Pandects', I will return him his funeral
oration."
At this the Pope laughed till his sides shook.
"We shall be pleased to hear the end of the story without anyone being
informed of our innocent curiosity."
With these words, a long benediction delivered with much unction informed
me that my audience was at an end.
As I was leaving His Holiness's palace, I was accosted by an old abbe,
who asked me respectfully if I were not the M. Casanova who had escaped
from The Leads.
"Yes," said I, "I am the man."
"Heaven be praised, worthy sir, that I see you again in such good
estate!"
"But whom have I the honour of addressing?"
"Don't you recollect me? I am Momolo, formerly gondolier at Venice."
"Have you entered holy orders, then?"
"Not at all, but here everyone wears the cassock. I am the first
scopatore (sweeper) of His Holiness the Pope."
"I congratulate you on your appointment, but you mustn't mind me
laughing."
"Laugh as much as you like. My wife and daughters laugh when I put on the
cassock and bands, and I laugh myself, but here the dress gains one
respect. Come and see us."
"Where do you live?"
"Behind the Trinity of Monti; here's my address."
"I will come to-night."
I went home delighted with this meeting, and determined to enjoy the
evening with my Venetian boatman. I got my brother to come with me, and I
told him how the Pope had received me.
The Abbe Winckelmann came in the afternoon and informed me that I was
fortunate enough to be high in favour with his cardinal, and that the
book I had sent him was very valuable; it was a rare work, and in much
better condition than the Vatican copy.
"I am commissioned to pay you for it."
"I have told his eminence that it was a present."
"He never accepts books as presents, and he wants yours for his own
library; and as he is librarian of the Vatican Library he is afraid lest
people might say unpleasant things."
"That's very well, but I am not a bookseller; and as this book only cost
me the trouble of accepting it, I am determined only to sell it at the
same price. Pray ask the cardinal to honour me by accepting it."
"He is sure to send it back to you."
"He can if he likes, but I will send back his funeral oration, as I am
not going to be under an obligation to anyone who refuses to take a
present from me."
Next morning the eccentric cardinal returned me my Pandects, and I
immediately returned his funeral oration, with a letter in which I
pronounced it a masterpiece of composition, though I laid barely glanced
over it in reality. My brother told me I was wrong, but I did not trouble
what he said, not caring to guide myself by his rulings.
In the evening my brother and I went to the 'scopatore santissimo', who
was expecting me, and had announced me to his family as a prodigy of a
man. I introduced my brother, and proceeded to a close scrutiny of the
family. I saw an elderly woman, four girls, of whom the eldest was
twenty-four, two small boys, and above all universal ugliness. It was not
inviting for a man of voluptuous tastes, but I was there, and the best
thing was to put a good face on it; so I stayed and enjoyed myself.
Besides the general ugliness, the household presented the picture of
misery, for the 'scopatore santissimo' and his numerous family were
obliged to live on two hundred Roman crowns a year, and as there are no
perquisites attached to the office of apostolic sweeper, he was compelled
to furnish all needs out of this slender sum. In spite of that Momolo was
a most generous man. As soon as he saw me seated he told me he should
have liked to give me a good supper, but there was only pork chops and a
polenta.
"They are very nice," said I; "but will you allow me to send for half a
dozen flasks of Orvieto from my lodging?"
"You are master here."
I wrote a note to Costa, telling him to bring the six flasks directly,
with a cooked ham. He came in half an hour, and the four girls cried when
they saw him, "What a fine fellow!" I saw Costa was delighted with this
reception, and said to Momolo,
"If you like him as well as your girls I will let him stay."
Costa was charmed with such honour being shewn him, and after thanking me
went into the kitchen to help the mother with the polenta.
The large table was covered with a clean cloth, and soon after they
brought in two huge dishes of polenta and an enormous pan full of chops.
We were just going to begin when a knocking on the street door was heard.
"'Tis Signora Maria and her mother," said one of the boys.
At this announcement I saw the four girls pulling a wry face. "Who asked
them?" said one. "What do they want?" said another. "What troublesome
people they are!" said a third. "They might have stayed at home," said
the fourth. But the good, kindly father said, "My children, they are
hungry, and they shall share what Providence has given us."
I was deeply touched with the worthy man's kindness. I saw that true
Christian charity is more often to be found in the breasts of the poor
than the rich, who are so well provided for that they cannot feel for the
wants of others.
While I was making these wholesome reflections the two hungry ones came
in. One was a young woman of a modest and pleasant aspect, and the other
her mother, who seemed very humble and as if ashamed of their poverty.
The daughter saluted the company with that natural grace which is a gift
of nature, apologizing in some confusion for her presence, and saying
that she would not have taken the liberty to come if she had known there
was company. The worthy Momolo was the only one who answered her, and he
said, kindly, that she had done quite right to come, and put her a chair
between my brother and myself. I looked at her and thought her a perfect
beauty.
Then the eating began and there was no more talking. The polenta was
excellent, the chops delicious, and the ham perfect, and in less than an
hour the board was as bare as if there had been nothing on it; but the
Orvieto kept the company in good spirts. They began to talk of the
lottery which was to be drawn the day after next, and all the girls
mentioned the numbers on which they had risked a few bajocchi.
"If I could be sure of one number," said I, "I would stake something on
it."
Mariuccia told me that if I wanted a number she could give me one. I
laughed at this offer, but in the gravest way she named me the number 27.
"Is the lottery still open?" I asked the Abbe Momolo.
"Till midnight," he replied, "and if you like I will go and get the
number for you."
"Here are fifty crowns," said I, "put twenty-five crowns on 27-this for
these five young ladies; and the other twenty-five on 27 coming out the
fifth number, and this I will keep for myself."
He went out directly and returned with the two tickets.
My pretty neighbour thanked me and said she was sure of winning, but that
she did not think I should succeed as it was not probable that 27 would
come out fifth.
"I am sure of it," I answered, "for you are the fifth young lady I saw in
this house." This made everybody laugh. Momolo's wife told me I would
have done much better if I had given the money to the poor, but her
husband told her to be quiet, as she did not know my intent. My brother
laughed, and told me I had done a foolish thing. "I do, sometimes," said
I, "but we shall see how it turns out, and when one plays one is obliged
either to win or lose."
I managed to squeeze my fair neighbour's hand, and she returned the
pressure with all her strength. From that time I knew that my fate with
Mariuccia was sealed. I left them at midnight, begging the worthy Momolo
to ask me again in two days' time, that we might rejoice together over
our gains. On our way home my brother said I had either become as rich as
Croesus or had gone mad. I told him that both suppositions were
incorrect, but that Mariuccia was as handsome as an angel, and he agreed.
Next day Mengs returned to Rome, and I supped with him and his family. He
had an exceedingly ugly sister, who for all that, was a good and talented
woman. She had fallen deeply in love with my brother, and it was easy to
see that the flame was not yet extinguished, but whenever she spoke to
him, which she did whenever she could get an opportunity, he looked
another way.
She was an exquisite painter of miniatures, and a capital hand at
catching a likeness. To the best of my belief she is still living at Rome
with Maroni her husband. She often used to speak of my brother to me, and
one day she said that he must be the most thankless of men or he would
not despise her so. I was not curious enough to enquire what claim she
had to his gratitude.
Mengs's wife was a good and pretty woman, attentive to her household
duties and very submissive to her husband, though she could not have
loved him, for he was anything but amiable. He was obstinate and fierce
in his manner, and when he dined at home he made a point of not leaving
the table before he was drunk; out of his own house he was temperate to
the extent of not drinking anything but water. His wife carried her
obedience so far as to serve as his model for all the nude figures he
painted. I spoke to her one day about this unpleasant obligation, and she
said that her confessor had charged her to fulfil it, "for," said he, "if
your husband has another woman for a model he will be sure to enjoy her
before painting her, and that sin would be laid to your charge."
After supper, Winckelmann, who was as far gone as all the other male
guests, played with Mengs's children. There was nothing of the pedant
about this philosopher; he loved children and young people, and his
cheerful disposition made him delight in all kinds of enjoyment.
Next day, as I was going to pay my court to the Pope, I saw Momolo in the
first ante-chamber, and I took care to remind him of the polenta for the
evening.
As soon as the Pope saw me, he said,--
"The Venetian ambassador has informed us that if you wish to return to
your native land, you must go and present yourself before the secretary
of the Tribunal."
"Most Holy Father, I am quite ready to take this step, if Your Holiness
will grant me a letter of commendation written with your own hand.
Without this powerful protection I should never dream of exposing myself
to the risk of being again shut up in a place from which I escaped by a
miracle and the help of the Almighty."
"You are gaily dressed; you do not look as if you were going to church."
"True, most Holy Father, but neither am I going to a ball."
"We have heard all about the presents being sent back. Confess that you
did so to gratify your pride."
"Yes, but also to lower a pride greater than mine."
The Pope smiled at this reply, and I knelt down and begged him to permit
me to present the volume of Pandects to the Vatican Library. By way of
reply he gave me his blessing, which signifies, in papal language, "Rise;
your request is granted."
"We will send you," said he, "a mark of our singular affection for you
without your having to pay any fees."
A second blessing bid me begone. I have often felt what a good thing it
would be if this kind of dismissal could be employed in general society
to send away importunate petitioners, to whom one does not dare say,
"Begone."
I was extremely curious to know what the Pope had meant by "a mark of our
singular affection." I was afraid that it would be a blessed rosary, with
which I should not have known what to do.
When I got home I sent the book by Costa to the Vatican, and then I went
to dine with Mengs. While we were eating the soup the winning numbers
from the lottery were brought in. My brother glanced at them and looked
at me with astonishment. I was not thinking of the subject at that
moment, and his gaze surprised me.
"Twenty-seven," he cried, "came out fifth."
"All the better," said I, "we shall have some amusement out of it."
I told the story to Mengs, who said,--
"It's a lucky folly for you this time; but it always is a folly."
He was quite right, and I told him that I agreed with him; but I added
that to make a worthy use of the fifteen hundred roman crowns which
fortune had given me, I should go and spend fifteen days at Naples.
"I will come too," said the Abbe Alfani. "I will pass for your
secretary."
"With all my heart," I answered, "I shall keep you to your word."
I asked Winckelmann to come and eat polenta with the scopatore
santissimo, and told my brother to shew him the way; and I then called on
the Marquis Belloni, my banker, to look into my accounts, and to get a
letter of credit on the firm at Naples, who were his agents. I still had
two hundred thousand francs: I had jewellery worth thirty thousand
francs, and fifty thousand florins at Amsterdam.
I got to Momolo's in the dusk of the evening, and I found Winckelmann and
my brother already there; but instead of mirth reigning round the board I
saw sad faces on all sides.
"What's the matter with the girls?" I asked Momolo.
"They are vexed that you did not stake for them in the same way as you
did for yourself."
"People are never satisfied. If I had staked for them as I did for
myself, and the number had come out first instead of fifth, they would
have got nothing, and they would have been vexed then. Two days ago they
had nothing, and now that they have twenty-seven pounds apiece they ought
to be contented."
"That's just what I tell them, but all women are the same."
"And men too, dear countryman, unless they are philosophers. Gold does
not spell happiness, and mirth can only be found in hearts devoid of
care. Let us say no more about it, but be happy."
Costa placed a basket containing ten packets of sweets, upon the table.
"I will distribute them," said I, "when everybody is here."
On this, Momolo's second daughter told me that Mariuccia and her mother
were not coming, but that they would send them the sweets.
"Why are they not coming?"
"They had a quarrel yesterday," said the father, "and Mariuccia, who was
in the right, went away saying that she would never come here again."
"You ungrateful girls!" said I, to my host's daughters, "don't you know
that it is to her that you owe your winnings, for she gave me the number
twenty-seven, which I should never have thought of. Quick! think of some
way to make her come, or I will go away and take all the sweets with me."
"You are quite right," said Momolo.
The mortified girls looked at one another and begged their father to
fetch her.
"Ira," said he, "that won't do; you made her say that she would never
come here again, and you must make up the quarrel."
They held a short consultation, and then, asking Costa to go with them,
they went to fetch her.
In half an hour they returned in triumph, and Costa was quite proud of
the part he had taken in the reconciliation. I then distributed the
sweets, taking care to give the two best packets to the fair Mary.
A noble polenta was placed upon the board, flanked by two large dishes of
pork chops. But Momolo, who knew my tastes, and whom I had made rich in
the person of his daughters, added to the feast some delicate dishes and
some excellent wine. Mariuccia was simply dressed, but her elegance and
beauty and the modesty of her demeanour completely seduced me.
We could only express our mutual flames by squeezing each other's hands;
and she did this so feelingly that I could not doubt her love. As we were
going out I took care to go downstairs beside her and asked if I could
not meet her by herself, to which she replied by making an appointment
with me far the next day at eight o'clock at the Trinity of Monti.
Mariuccia was tall and shapely, a perfect picture, as fair as a white
rose, and calculated to inspire voluptuous desires. She had beautiful
light brown hair, dark blue eyes, and exquisitely arched eyelids. Her
mouth, the vermilion of her lips, and her ivory teeth were all perfect.
Her well-shaped forehead gave her an air approaching the majestic.
Kindness and gaiety sparkled in her eyes; while her plump white hands,
her rounded finger-tips, her pink nails, her breast, which the corset
seemed scarcely able to restrain, her dainty feet, and her prominent
hips, made her worthy of the chisel of Praxiteles. She was just on her
eighteenth year, and so far had escaped the connoisseurs. By a lucky
chance I came across her in a poor and wretched street, and I was
fortunate enough to insure her happiness.
It may easily be believed that I did not fail to keep the appointment,
and when she was sure I had seen her she went out of the church. I
followed her at a considerable distance: she entered a ruined building,
and I after her. She climbed a flight of steps which seemed to be built
in air, and when she had reached the top she turned.
"No one will come and look for me here," said she, "so we can talk freely
together."
I sat beside her on a stone, and I then declared my passionate love for
her.
"Tell me," I added, "what I can do to make you happy; for I wish to
possess you, but first to shew my deserts."
"Make me happy, and I will yield to your desires, for I love you."
"Tell me what I can do."
"You can draw me out of the poverty and misery which overwhelm me. I live
with my mother, who is a good woman, but devout to the point of
superstition; she will damn my soul in her efforts to save it. She finds
fault with my keeping myself clean, because I have to touch myself when I
wash, and that might give rise to evil desires.
"If you had given me the money you made me win in the lottery as a simple
alms she would have made me refuse it, because you might have had
intentions. She allows me to go by myself to mass because our confessor
told her she might do so; but I dare not stay away a minute beyond the
time, except on feast days, when I am allowed to pray in the church for
two or three hours. We can only meet here, but if you wish to soften my
lot in life you can do so as follows:
"A fine young man, who is a hairdresser, and bears an excellent
character, saw me at Momolo's a fortnight ago, and met me at the church
door next day and gave me a letter. He declared himself my lover, and
said that if I could bring him a dowry of four hundred crowns, he could
open a shop, furnish it, and marry me.
"'I am poor,' I answered, 'and I have only a hundred crowns in charity
tickets, which my confessor keeps for me.' Now I have two hundred crowns,
for if I marry, my mother will willingly give me her share of the money
you made us gain. You can therefore make me happy by getting me tickets
to the amount of two hundred crowns more. Take the tickets to my
confessor, who is a very good man and fond of me; he will not say
anything to my mother about it."
"I needn't go about seeking for charity tickets, my angel. I will take
two hundred piastres to your confessor to-morrow, and you must manage the
rest yourself. Tell me his name, and to-morrow I will tell you what I
have done, but not here, as the wind and the cold would be the death of
me. You can leave me to find out a room where we shall be at our ease,
and without any danger of people suspecting that we have spent an hour
together. I will meet you at the church to-morrow at the same hour and
when you see me follow me."
Mariuccia told me her confessor's name, and allowed me all the caresses
possible in our uncomfortable position. The kisses she gave me in return
for mine left no doubt in my mind, as to her love for me. As nine o'clock
struck I left her, perishing with cold, but burning with desire; my only
thought being where to find a room in which I might possess myself of the
treasure the next day.
On leaving the ruined palace, instead of returning to the Piazza di
Spagna I turned to the left and passed along a narrow and dirty street
only inhabited by people of the lowest sort. As I slowly walked along, a
woman came out of her house and asked me politely if I were looking for
anybody.
"I am looking for a room to let."
"There are none here, sir, but, you will find a hundred in the square."
"I know it, but I want the room to be here, not for the sake of the
expense, but that I may be sure of being able to spend an hour or so of a
morning with a person in whom I am interested. I am ready to pay
anything."
"I understand what you mean, and you should have a room in my house if I
had one to spare, but a neighbour of mine has one on the ground floor,
and if you will wait a moment I will go and speak to her."
"You will oblige me very much."
"Kindly step in here."
I entered a poor room, where all seemed wretchedness, and I saw two
children doing their lessons. Soon after, the good woman came back and
asked me to follow her. I took several pieces of money from my pocket,
and put them down on the only table which this poor place contained. I
must have seemed very generous, for the poor mother came and kissed my
hand with the utmost gratitude. So pleasant is it to do good, that now
when I have nothing left the remembrance of the happiness I have given to
others at small cost is almost the only pleasure I enjoy.
I went to a neighbouring house where a woman received me in an empty
room, which she told me she would let cheaply if I would pay three months
in advance, and bring in my own furniture.
"What do you ask for the three months' rent?"
"Three Roman crowns."
"If you will see to the furnishing of the room this very day I will give
you twelve crowns."
"Twelve crowns! What furniture do you want?"
"A good clean bed, a small table covered with a clean cloth, four good
chairs, and a large brazier with plenty of fire in it, for I am nearly
perishing of cold here. I shall only come occasionally in the morning,
and I shall leave by noon at the latest."
"Come at three o'clock, then, to-day, and you will find everything to
your satisfaction."
From there I went to the confessor. He was a French monk, about sixty, a
fine and benevolent-looking man, who won one's respect and confidence.
"Reverend father," I began, "I saw at the house of Abbe Momolo, 'scoptore
santissimo', a young girl named Mary, whose confessor you are. I fell in
love with her, and offered her money to try and seduce her. She replied
that instead of trying to lead her into sin I would do better to get her
some charity tickets that she might be able to marry a young man who
loved her, and would make her happy. I was touched by what she said, but
my passion still remained. I spoke to her again, and said that I would
give her two hundred crowns for nothing, and that her mother should keep
them.
"'That would be my ruin,' said she; 'my mother would think the money was
the price of sin, and would not accept it. If you are really going to be
so generous, take the money to my confessor, and ask him to do what he
can for my marriage.'"
"Here, then, reverend father, is the sum of money for the good girl; be
kind enough to take charge of it, and I will trouble her no more. I am
going to Naples the day after to-morrow, and I hope when I come back she
will be married."
The good confessor took the hundred sequins and gave me a receipt,
telling me that in interesting myself on behalf of Mariuccia I was making
happy a most pure and innocent dove, whom he had confessed since she was
five years old, and that he had often told her that she might communicate
without making her confession because he knew she was incapable of mortal
sin.
"Her mother," he added, "is a sainted woman, and as soon as I have
enquired into the character of the future husband I will soon bring the
marriage about. No one shall ever know from whom this generous gift
comes."
After putting this matter in order I dined with the Chevalier Mengs, and
I willingly consented to go with the whole family to the Aliberti Theatre
that evening. I did not forget, however, to go and inspect the room I had
taken. I found all my orders executed, and I gave twelve crowns to the
landlady and took the key, telling her to light the fire at seven every
morning.
So impatient did I feel for the next day to come that I thought the opera
detestable, and the night for me was a sleepless one.
Next morning I went to the church before the time, and when Mariuccia
came, feeling sure that she had seen me, I went out. She followed me at a
distance, and when I got to the door of the lodging I turned for her to
be sure that it was I, and then went in and found the room well warmed.
Soon after Mariuccia came in, looking timid, confused, and as if she were
doubtful of the path she was treading. I clasped her to my arms, and
reassured her by my tender embraces; and her courage rose when I shewed
her the confessor's receipt, and told her that the worthy man had
promised to care for her marriage. She kissed my hand in a transport of
delight, assuring me that she would never forget my kindness. Then, as I
urged her to make me a happy man, she said,--
"We have three hours before us, as I told my mother I was going to give
thanks to God for having made me a winner in the lottery."
This reassured me, and I took my time, undressing her by degrees, and
unveiling her charms one by one, to my delight, without the slightest
attempt at resistance on her part. All the time she kept her eyes fixed
on mine, as if to soothe her modesty; but when I beheld and felt all her
charms I was in an ecstasy. What a body; what beauties! Nowhere was there
the slightest imperfection. She was like Venus rising from the foam of
the sea. I carried her gently to the bed, and while she strove to hide
her alabaster breasts and the soft hair which marked the entrance to the
sanctuary, I undressed in haste, and consummated the sweetest of
sacrifices, without there being the slightest doubt in my mind of the
purity of the victim. In the first sacrifice no doubt the young priestess
felt some pain, but she assured me out of delicacy that she had not been
hurt, and at the second assault she shewed that she shared my flames. I
was going to immolate the victim for the third time when the clock struck
ten. She began to be restless, and hurriedly put on our clothes. I had to
go to Naples, but I assured her that the desire of embracing her once
more before her marriage would hasten my return to Rome. I promised to
take another hundred crowns to her confessor, advising her to spend the
money she had won in the lottery on her trousseau.
"I shall be at Monolo's to-night, dearest, and you must come, too; but we
must appear indifferent to each other, though our hearts be full of joy,
lest those malicious girls suspect our mutual understanding."
"It is all the more necessary to be cautious," she replied, "as I have
noticed that they suspect that we love each other."
Before we parted she thanked me for what I had done for her, and begged
me to believe that, her poverty notwithstanding, she had given herself
for love alone.
I was the last to leave the house, and I told my landlady that I should
be away for ten or twelve days. I then went to the confessor to give him
the hundred crowns I had promised my mistress. When the good old
Frenchman heard that I had made this fresh sacrifice that Mariuccia might
be able to spend her lottery winnings on her clothes, he told me that he
would call on the mother that very day and urge her to consent to her
daughter's marriage, and also learn where the young man lived. On my
return from Naples I heard that he had faithfully carried out his
promise.
I was sitting at table with Mengs when a chamberlain of the Holy Father
called. When he came in he asked M. Mengs if I lived there, and on that
gentleman pointing me out, he gave me, from his holy master, the Cross of
the Order of the Golden Spur with the diploma, and a patent under the
pontifical seal, which, in my quality as doctor of laws, made me a
prothonotary-apostolic 'extra urbem'.
I felt that I had been highly honoured, and told the bearer that I would
go and thank my new sovereign and ask his blessing the next day. The
Chevalier Mengs embraced me as a brother, but I had the advantage over
him in not being obliged to pay anything, whereas the great artist had to
disburse twenty-five Roman crowns to have his diploma made out. There is
a saying at Rome, 'Sine efusione sanguinis non fit remissio', which may
be interpreted, Nothing without money; and as a matter of fact, one can
do anything with money in the Holy City.
Feeling highly flattered at the favour the Holy Father had shewn me, I
put on the cross which depended from a broad red ribbon-red being the
colour worn by the Knights of St. John of the Lateran, the companions of
the palace, 'comites palatini', or count-palatins. About the same time
poor Cahusac, author of the opera of Zoroaster, went mad for joy on the
receipt of the same order. I was not so bad as that, but I confess, to my
shame, that I was so proud of my decoration that I asked Winckelmann
whether I should be allowed to have the cross set with diamonds and
rubies. He said I could if I liked, and if I wanted such a cross he could
get me one cheap. I was delighted, and bought it to make a show at
Naples, but I had not the face to wear it in Rome. When I went to thank
the Pope I wore the cross in my button-hole out of modesty. Five years
afterwards when I was at Warsaw, Czartoryski, a Russian prince-palatine,
made me leave it off by saying,--
"What are you doing with that wretched bauble? It's a drug in the market,
and no one but an impostor would wear it now."
The Popes knew this quite well, but they continued to give the cross to
ambassadors while they also gave it to their 'valets de chambre'. One has
to wink at a good many things in Rome.
In the evening Momolo gave me a supper by way of celebrating my new
dignity. I recouped him for the expense by holding a bank at faro, at
which I was dexterous enough to lose forty crowns to the family, without
having the slightest partiality to Mariuccia who won like the rest. She
found the opportunity to tell me that her confessor had called on her,
that she had told him where her future husband lived, and that the worthy
monk had obtained her mother's consent to the hundred crowns being spent
on her trousseau.
I noticed that Momolo's second daughter had taken a fancy to Costa, and I
told Momolo that I was going to Naples, but that I would leave my man in
Rome, and that if I found a marriage had been arranged on my return I
would gladly pay the expenses of the wedding.
Costa liked the girl, but he did not marry her then for fear of my
claiming the first-fruits. He was a fool of a peculiar kind, though fools
of all sorts are common enough. He married her a year later after robbing
me, but I shall speak of that again.
Next day, after I had breakfasted and duly embraced my brother, I set out
in a nice carriage with the Abbe Alfani, Le Duc preceding me on
horseback, and I reached Naples at a time when everybody was in a state
of excitement because an eruption of Vesuvius seemed imminent. At the
last stage the inn-keeper made me read the will of his father who had
died during the eruption of 1754. He said that in the year 1761 God would
overwhelm the sinful town of Naples, and the worthy host consequently
advised me to return to Rome. Alfani took the thing seriously, and said
that we should do well to be warned by so evident an indication of the
will of God. The event was predicted, therefore it had to happen. Thus a
good many people reason, but as I was not of the number I proceeded on my
way.