; he made a great show of peculiar
kindness and I of great satisfaction, for my self-pride, stronger even
than my sorrow, forbade me to let anyone guess that I was in disgrace. My
deepest grief was, however, to leave the marchioness, with whom I was in
love, and from whom I had not obtained any important favour.

Two days afterwards, the cardinal gave me a passport for Venice, and a
sealed letter addressed to Osman Bonneval, Pacha of Caramania, in
Constantinople. There was no need of my saying anything to anyone, but,
as the cardinal had not forbidden me to do it, I shewed the address on
the letter to all my acquaintances.

The Chevalier de Lezze, the Venetian Ambassador, gave me a letter for a
wealthy Turk, a very worthy man who had been his friend; Don Gaspar and
Father Georgi asked me to write to them, but the Abbe Gams, laughed, and
said he was quite sure I was not going to Constantinople.

I went to take my farewell of Donna Cecilia, who had just received a
letter from Lucrezia, imparting the news that she would soon be a mother.
I also called upon Angelique and Don Francisco, who had lately been
married and had not invited me to the wedding.

When I called to take Cardinal Acquaviva's final instructions he gave me
a purse containing one hundred ounces, worth seven hundred sequins. I had
three hundred more, so that my fortune amounted to one thousand sequins;
I kept two hundred, and for the rest I took a letter of exchange upon a
Ragusan who was established in Ancona. I left Rome in the coach with a
lady going to Our Lady of Loretto, to fulfil a vow made during a severe
illness of her daughter, who accompanied her. The young lady was ugly; my
journey was a rather tedious one.

CHAPTER XI

My Short But Rather Too Gay Visit To Ancona--Cecilia,
Marina, Bellino--the Greek Slave of the Lazzaretto--Bellino
Discovers Himself

I arrived in Ancona on the 25th of February, 1744, and put up at the best
inn. Pleased with my room, I told mine host to prepare for me a good meat
dinner; but he answered that during Lent all good Catholics eat nothing
but fish.

"The Holy Father has granted me permission to eat meat."

"Let me see your permission."

"He gave it to me by word of mouth."

"Reverend sir, I am not obliged to believe you."

"You are a fool."

"I am master in my own house, and I beg you will go to some other inn."

Such an answer, coupled to a most unexpected notice to quit, threw me