t to do to convince me that the same blood was flowing in his veins
and in mine.
He expressed some curiosity to know what lucky accident had brought me to
Naples; I told him that, having embraced the ecclesiastical profession, I
was going to Rome to seek my fortune. He then presented me to his family,
and I thought that I could read on the countenance of my cousin, his
dearly beloved wife, that she was not much pleased with the newly-found
relationship, but his pretty daughter, and a still prettier niece of his,
might very easily have given me faith in the doctrine that blood is
thicker than water, however fabulous it may be.
After dinner, Don Antonio informed me that the Duchess de Bovino had
expressed a wish to know the Abbe Casanova who had written the sonnet in
honour of her relative, and that he would be very happy to introduce me
to her as his own cousin. As we were alone at that moment, I begged he
would not insist on presenting me, as I was only provided with travelling
suits, and had to be careful of my purse so as not to arrive in Rome
without money. Delighted at my confidence, and approving my economy, he
said, "I am rich, and you must not scruple to come with me to my tailor;"
and he accompanied his offer with an assurance that the circumstance
would not be known to anyone, and that he would feel deeply mortified if
I denied him the pleasure of serving me. I shook him warmly by the hand,
and answered that I was ready to do anything he pleased. We went to a
tailor who took my measure, and who brought me on the following day
everything necessary to the toilet of the most elegant abbe. Don Antonio
called on me, and remained to dine with Don Gennaro, after which he took
me and my friend Paul to the duchess. This lady, according to the
Neapolitan fashion, called me thou in her very first compliment of
welcome. Her daughter, then only ten or twelve years old, was very
handsome, and a few years later became Duchess de Matalona. The duchess
presented me with a snuff-box in pale tortoise-shell with arabesque
incrustations in gold, and she invited us to dine with her on the morrow,
promising to take us after dinner to the Convent of St. Claire to pay a
visit to the new nun.
As we came out of the palace of the duchess, I left my friends and went
alone to Panagiotti's to claim the barrel of muscatel wine. The manager
was kind enough to have the barrel divided into two smaller casks of
equal capacity, and I sent one
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