ent there two months before for having appeared in
public in an equipage which was adjudged too magnificent. The minister
Tanucci called on the king to punish this infringement of the sumptuary
laws, and as the king had not yet learnt to resist his ministers, the
duke and his wife were exiled to this earthly paradise. But a paradise
which is a prison is no paradise at all; they were both dying of ennui,
and our arrival was balm in Gilead to them.

A certain Abbe Bettoni, whose acquaintance I had made nine years before
at the late Duke of Matalone's, had come to see them, and was delighted
to meet me again.

The abbe was a native of Brescia, but he had chosen Sorento as his
residence. He had three thousand crowns a year, and lived well, enjoying
all the gifts of Bacchus, Ceres, Comus, and Venus, the latter being his
favourite divinity. He had only to desire to attain, and no man could
desire greater pleasure than he enjoyed at Sorento. I was vexed to see
Count Medini with him; we were enemies, and gave each other the coldest
of greetings.

We were twenty-two at table and enjoyed delicious fare, for in that land
everything is good; the very bread is sweeter than elsewhere. We spent
the afternoon in inspecting the villages, which are surrounded by avenues
finer than the avenues leading to the grandest castles in Europe.

Abbe Bettoni treated us to lemon, coffee, and chocolate ices, and some
delicious cream cheese. Naples excels in these delicacies, and the abbe
had everything of the best. We were waited on by five or six country
girls of ravishing beauty, dressed with exquisite neatness. I asked him
whether that were his seraglio, and he replied that it might be so, but
that jealousy was unknown, as I should see for myself if I cared to spend
a week with him.

I envied this happy man, and yet I pitied him, for he was at least twelve
years older than I, and I was by no means young. His pleasures could not
last much longer.

In the evening we returned to the duke's, and sat down to a supper
composed of several kinds of fish.

The air of Sorento gives an untiring appetite, and the supper soon
disappeared.

After supper my lady proposed a game at faro, and Bettoni, knowing Medini
to be a professional gamester, asked him to hold the bank. He begged to
be excused, saying he had not enough money, so I consented to take his
place.

The cards were brought in, and I emptied my poor purse on the table. It
only held four h