om her finger a diamond ring, worth at least four
hundred ounces, and begged me to accept it as a pledge.
I took it, and left her after making my bow. She was doubtless astonished
at my behaviour, for in her state of deshabille she could not have
counted on my displaying such firmness.
I was very well satisfied with my victory, and went to dine with the
advocate, Agatha's husband. I told him the story, begging him to find
someone who would give me two hundred ounces on the ring.
"I will do it myself," said he; and he gave me an acknowledgment and two
hundred ounces on the spot. He then wrote in my name a letter to Goudar,
informing him that he was the depositary of the ring.
This done, I recovered my good temper.
Before dinner Agatha took me into her boudoir and shewed me all the
splendid jewels I had given her when I was rich and in love.
"Now I am a rich woman," said she, "and my good fortune is all your
making; so take back what you gave me. Don't be offended; I am so
grateful to you, and my good husband and I agreed on this plan this
morning."
To take away any scruples I might have, she shewed me the diamonds her
husband had given her; they had belonged to his first wife and were worth
a considerable sum.
My gratitude was too great for words, I could only press her hand, and
let my eyes speak the feelings of my heart. Just then her husband came
in.
It had evidently been concerted between them, for the worthy man embraced
me, and begged me to accede to his wife's request.
We then joined the company which consisted of a dozen or so of their
friends, but the only person who attracted my attention was a very young
man, whom I set down at once as in love with Agatha. His name was Don
Pascal Latilla; and I could well believe that he would be successful in
love, for he was intelligent, handsome, and well-mannered. We became
friends in the course of the meal.
Amongst the ladies I was greatly pleased with one young girl. She was
only fourteen, but she looked eighteen. Agatha told me she was studying
singing, intending to go on the stage as she was so poor.
"So pretty, and yet poor?"
"Yes, for she will have all or nothing; and lovers of that kind are rare
in Naples."
"But she must have some lover?"
"If she has, no one has heard of him. You had better make her
acquaintance and go and see her. You will soon be friends."
"What's her name?"
"Callimena. The lady who is speaking to her is her
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