ano', and we impotent. The duchess told me as much on the occasion
of my third visit. She did not give me the information in a complaining
tone, or as if she was fain to be consoled, but merely to defy her
confessor, who had threatened her with excommunication if she went on
telling people about her husband's condition, or if she tried to cure him
of it.

The duchess gave a little supper every evening to her select circle of
friends. I was not admitted to these reunions for a week or ten days, by
which time I had made myself generally popular. The duke did not care for
company and supped apart.

The Prince of Santa Croce was the duchess's 'cavaliere servante', and the
princess was served by Cardinal Bernis. The princess was a daughter of
the Marquis Falconieri, and was young, pretty, lively, and intended by
nature for a life of pleasure. However, her pride at possessing the
cardinal was so great that she did not give any hope to other competitors
for her favour.

The prince was a fine man of distinguished manners and great capability,
which he employed in business speculations, being of opinion, and
rightly, that it was no shame for a nobleman to increase his fortune by
the exercise of his intelligence. He was a careful man, and had attached
himself to the duchess because she cost him nothing, and he ran no risk
of falling in love with her.

Two or three weeks after my arrival he heard me complaining of the
obstacles to research in the Roman libraries, and he offered to give me
an introduction to the Superior of the Jesuits. I accepted the offer, and
was made free of the library; I could not only go and read when I liked,
but I could, on writing my name down, take books away with me. The
keepers of the library always brought me candles when it grew dark, and
their politeness was so great that they gave me the key of a side door,
so that I could slip in and out as I pleased.

The Jesuits were always the most polite of the regular clergy, or,
indeed, I may say the only polite men amongst them; but during the crisis
in which they were then involved, they were simply cringing.

The King of Spain had called for the suppression of the order, and the
Pope had promised that it should be done; but the Jesuits did not think
that such a blow could ever be struck, and felt almost secure. They did
not think that the Pope's power was superhuman so far as they were
concerned. They even intimated to him by indirect channels that