he had not received her
dismissal I should never have gone to her house, nor should I have given
her the smallest present."

The king was stupefied and silent; he was probably meditating on the
amount of credit a monarch should give to the gossip that his courtiers
bring him.

I heard about this from M. Monnino, who was afterwards known under the
title of Castille de Florida Blanca, and is now living in exile in
Murcia, his native country.

After Marescalchi had gone, and I was making my preparations for my
journey to Barcelona, I saw one day, at the bull fight, a woman whose
appearance had a strange kind of fascination about it.

There was a knight of Alcantara at my side, and I asked him who the lady
was.

"She is the famous Nina."

"How famous?"

"If you do not know her story, it is too long to be told here."

I could not help gazing at her, and two minutes later an ill-looking
fellow beside her came up to my companion and whispered something in his
ear.

The knight turned towards me and informed me in the most polite manner
that the lady whose name I had asked desired to know mine.

I was silly enough to be flattered by her curiosity, and told the
messenger that if the lady would allow me I would come to her box and
tell her my name in person after the performance.

"From your accent I should suppose you were an Italian."

"I am a Venetian."

"So is she."

When he had gone away my neighbour seemed inclined to be more
communicative, and informed me that Nina was a dancer whom the Count de
Ricla, the Viceroy of Barcelona, was keeping for some weeks at Valentia,
till he could get her back to Barcelona, whence the bishop of the diocese
had expelled her on account of the scandals to which she gave rise. "The
count," he added, "is madly in love with her, and allows her fifty
doubloons a day."

"I should hope she does not spend them."

"She can't do that, but she does not let a day pass without committing
some expensive act of folly."

I felt curious to know a woman of such a peculiar character, and longed
for the end of the bull fight, little thinking in what trouble this new
acquaintance would involve me.

She received me with great politeness, and as she got into her carriage
drawn by six mules, she said she would be delighted if I would breakfast
with her at nine o'clock on the following day.

I promised to come, and I kept my word.

Her house was just outside the town walls, and was a very