myself in a
very agreeable way in the midst of that charming family during my stay in
Chiozza, but I suppose that it was my destiny to meet in that place with
nothing but sorrows. The young doctor forewarned me that the monk Corsini
was a very worthless fellow, despised by everybody, and advised me to
avoid him. I thanked him for the information, but my thoughtlessness
prevented me from profiting by it. Of a very easy disposition, and too
giddy to fear any snares, I was foolish enough to believe that the monk
would, on the contrary, be the very man to throw plenty of amusement in
my way.

On the third day the worthless dog took me to a house of ill-fame, where
I might have gone without his introduction, and, in order to shew my
mettle, I obliged a low creature whose ugliness ought to have been a
sufficient antidote against any fleshly desire. On leaving the place, he
brought me for supper to an inn where we met four scoundrels of his own
stamp. After supper one of them began a bank of faro, and I was invited
to join in the game. I gave way to that feeling of false pride which so
often causes the ruin of young men, and after losing four sequins I
expressed a wish to retire, but my honest friend, the Jacobin contrived
to make me risk four more sequins in partnership with him. He held the
bank, and it was broken. I did not wish to play any more, but Corsini,
feigning to pity me and to feel great sorrow at being the cause of my
loss, induced me to try myself a bank of twenty-five sequins; my bank was
likewise broken. The hope of winning back my money made me keep up the
game, and I lost everything I had.

Deeply grieved, I went away and laid myself down near the cook, who woke
up and said I was a libertine.

"You are right," was all I could answer.

I was worn out with fatigue and sorrow, and I slept soundly. My vile
tormentor, the monk, woke me at noon, and informed me with a triumphant
joy that a very rich young man had been invited by his friends to supper,
that he would be sure to play and to lose, and that it would be a good
opportunity for me to retrieve my losses.

"I have lost all my money. Lend me twenty sequins."

"When I lend money I am sure to lose; you may call it superstition, but I
have tried it too often. Try to find money somewhere else, and come.
Farewell."

I felt ashamed to confess my position to my friend, and sending for, a
money-lender I emptied my trunk before him. We made an inventory of my