t aside when I had sold her diamonds.

As I was sure of getting the money in the morning I passed the night at
play, and I lost the five hundred sequins in advance. At day-break, being
in need of a little quiet, I went to the Erberia, a space of ground on
the quay of the Grand Canal. Here is held the herb, fruit, and flower
market.

People in good society who come to walk in the Erberia at a rather early
hour usually say that they come to see the hundreds of boats laden with
vegetables, fruit and flowers, which hail from the numerous islands near
the town; but everyone knows that they are men and women who have been
spending the night in the excesses of Venus or Bacchus, or who have lost
all hope at the gaming-table, and come here to breath a purer air and to
calm their minds. The fashion of walking in this place shews how the
character of a nation changes. The Venetians of old time who made as
great a mystery of love as of state affairs, have been replaced by the
modern Venetians, whose most prominent characteristic is to make a
mystery of nothing. Those who come to the Erberia with women wish to
excite the envy of their friends by thus publishing their good fortune.
Those who come alone are on the watch for discoveries, or on the look-out
for materials to make wives or husbands jealous, the women only come to
be seen, glad to let everybody know that they are without any restraint
upon their actions. There was certainly no question of smartness there,
considering the disordered style of dress worn. The women seemed to have
agreed to shew all the signs of disorder imaginable, to give those who
saw them something to talk about. As for the men, on whose arms they
leaned, their careless and lounging airs were intended to give the idea
of a surfeit of pleasure, and to make one think that the disordered
appearance of their companions was a sure triumph they had enjoyed. In
short it was the correct thing to look tired out, and as if one stood in
need of sleep.

This veracious description, reader, will not give you a very high opinion
of the morals of my dear fellow citizens; but what object should I have
at my age for deceiving? Venice is not at the world's end, but is well
enough known to those whose curiosity brings them into Italy; and
everyone can see for himself if my pictures are overdrawn.

After walking up and down for half an hour, I came away, and thinking the
whole house still a-bed I drew my key out to open the