ain.
My trunk had to be placed under the bed which filled up the room. I was
amused at this, for I was not in a position to be over-fastidious, and,
after partaking of some dinner at the inn, I went about the town. Chiozza
is a peninsula, a sea-port belonging to Venice, with a population of ten
thousand inhabitants, seamen, fishermen, merchants, lawyers, and
government clerks.

I entered a coffee-room, and I had scarcely taken a seat when a young
doctor-at-law, with whom I had studied in Padua, came up to me, and
introduced me to a druggist whose shop was near by, saying that his house
was the rendezvous of all the literary men of the place. A few minutes
afterwards, a tall Jacobin friar, blind of one eye, called Corsini, whom
I had known in Venice, came in and paid me many compliments. He told me
that I had arrived just in time to go to a picnic got up by the Macaronic
academicians for the next day, after a sitting of the academy in which
every member was to recite something of his composition. He invited me to
join them, and to gratify the meeting with the delivery of one of my
productions. I accepted the invitation, and, after the reading of ten
stanzas which I had written for the occasion, I was unanimously elected a
member. My success at the picnic was still greater, for I disposed of
such a quantity of macaroni that I was found worthy of the title of
prince of the academy.

The young doctor, himself one of the academicians, introduced me to his
family. His parents, who were in easy circumstances, received me very
kindly. One of his sisters was very amiable, but the other, a professed
nun, appeared to me a prodigy of beauty. I might have enjoyed myself in a
very agreeable way in the midst of that charming family during my stay in
Chiozza, but I suppose that it was my destiny to meet in that place with
nothing but sorrows. The young doctor forewarned me that the monk Corsini
was a very worthless fellow, despised by everybody, and advised me to
avoid him. I thanked him for the information, but my thoughtlessness
prevented me from profiting by it. Of a very easy disposition, and too
giddy to fear any snares, I was foolish enough to believe that the monk
would, on the contrary, be the very man to throw plenty of amusement in
my way.

On the third day the worthless dog took me to a house of ill-fame, where
I might have gone without his introduction, and, in order to shew my
mettle, I obliged a low creature whose ugli