--The Greek Slave--My Pilgrimage to Our Lady of Loretto--I
Go to Rome on Foot, and From Rome to Naples to Meet the Bishop--I
Cannot Join Him--Good Luck Offers Me the Means of Reaching
Martorano, Which Place I Very Quickly Leave to Return to Naples
The retinue of the ambassador, which was styled "grand," appeared to
me very small. It was composed of a Milanese steward, named
Carcinelli, of a priest who fulfilled the duties of secretary because he
could not write, of an old woman acting as housekeeper, of a man cook
with his ugly wife, and eight or ten servants.
We reached Chiozza about noon. Immediately after landing, I politely
asked the steward where I should put up, and his answer was:
"Wherever you please, provided you let this man know where it is, so
that he can give you notice when the peotta is ready to sail. My duty,"
he added, "is to leave you at the lazzaretto of Ancona free of expense
from the moment we leave this place. Until then enjoy yourself as well
as you can."
The man to whom I was to give my address was the captain of the
peotta. I asked him to recommend me a lodging.
"You can come to my house," he said, "if you have no objection to
share a large bed with the cook, whose wife remains on board."
Unable to devise any better plan, I accepted the offer, and a sailor,
carrying my trunk, accompanied me to the dwelling of the honest
captain. 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 ugliness ought to have been
a sufficient antidote against any fleshly desire. On leaving the place, he
brought me for supper to an inn where we met four scoundrels of his
own stamp. After supper one of them began a bank of faro, and I was
invited to join in the game. I gave way to that feeling of false pride
which so often causes the ruin of young men, and after losing four
sequins I expressed a wish to retire, but my honest friend, the Jacobin
contrived to make me risk
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