prizes given to the art
students, and the first face I saw was the face of Mengs. He was with
Battoni and two or three other painters, all being occupied in adjudging
the merits of the various pictures.

I had not forgotten his treatment of me at Madrid, so I pretended not to
see him; but as soon as he saw me, he came up and addressed me as
follows:

"My dear Casanova, let us forget what happened at Madrid and be friends
once more."

"So be it, provided no allusion is made to the cause of our quarrel; for
I warn you that I cannot speak of it and keep my head cool."

"I dare say; but if you had understood my position at Madrid you would
never have obliged me to take a course which gave me great pain."

"I do not understand you."

"I dare say not. You must know, then, that I was strongly suspected of
being a Protestant; and if I had shewn myself indifferent to your
conduct, I might possibly have been ruined. But dine with me tomorrow; we
will make up a party of friends, and discuss our quarrel in a good bottle
of wine. I know that you do not receive your brother, so he shall not be
there. Indeed, I do not receive him myself, for if I did all honest
people would give me the cold shoulder."

I accepted his friendly invitation, and was punctual to the appointment.

My brother left Rome a short time afterwards with Prince Beloselski, the
Russian ambassador to Dresden, with whom he had come; but his visit was
unsuccessful, as Rezzonico proved inexorable. We only saw each other two
or three times at Rome.

Three or four days after he had gone I had the agreeable surprise of
seeing my brother the priest, in rags as usual. He had the impudence to
ask me to help him.

"Where do you come from?"

"From Venice; I had to leave the place, as I could no longer make a
living there."

"Then how do you think of making a living at Rome?"

"By saying masses and teaching French."

"You a teacher of languages! Why, you do not know your native tongue."

"I know Italian and French too, and I have already got two pupils."

"They will no doubt make wonderful progress under your fostering care.
Who are they?"

"The son and daughter of the inn-keeper, at whose house I am staying. But
that's not enough to keep me, and you must give me something while I am
starting."

"You have no right to count on me. Leave the room."

I would not listen to another word, and told Margarita to see that he did
not come in again.

The wretche