t 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