A Cleric in Naples | Page 6

the order of the Recollects who called himself Friar
Stephano of Belun, and had obtained a free passage from the devout
Captain Alban, joined me as we landed and enquired whether I felt
sick.

"Reverend father, I am unhappy."
"You will forget all your sorrow, if you will come and dine with me at
the house of one of our devout friends."
I had not broken my fast for thirty-six hours, and having suffered much
from sea-sickness during the night, my stomach was quite empty. My
erotic inconvenience made me very uncomfortable, my mind felt
deeply the consciousness of my degradation, and I did not possess a
groat! I was in such a miserable state that I had no strength to accept or
to refuse anything. I was thoroughly torpid, and I followed the monk
mechanically.
He presented me to a lady, saying that he was accompanying me to
Rome, where I intend to become a Franciscan. This untruth disgusted
me, and under any other circumstances I would not have let it pass
without protest, but in my actual position it struck me as rather comical.
The good lady gave us a good dinner of fish cooked in oil, which in
Orsara is delicious, and we drank some exquisite refosco. During our
meal, a priest happened to drop in, and, after a short conversation, he
told me that I ought not to pass the night on board the tartan, and
pressed me to accept a bed in his house and a good dinner for the next
day in case the wind should not allow us to sail; I accepted without
hesitation. I offered my most sincere thanks to the good old lady, and
the priest took me all over the town. In the evening, he brought me to
his house where we partook of an excellent supper prepared by his
housekeeper, who sat down to the table with us, and with whom I was
much pleased. The refosco, still better than that which I had drunk at
dinner, scattered all my misery to the wind, and I conversed gaily with
the priest. He offered to read to me a poem of his own composition, but,
feeling that my eyes would not keep open, I begged he would excuse
me and postpone the reading until the following day.
I went to bed, and in the morning, after ten hours of the most profound
sleep, the housekeeper, who had been watching for my awakening,
brought me some coffee. I thought her a charming woman, but, alas! I
was not in a fit state to prove to her the high estimation in which I held
her beauty.

Entertaining feelings of gratitude for my kind host, and disposed to
listen attentively to his poem, I dismissed all sadness, and I paid his
poetry such compliments that he was delighted, and, finding me much
more talented than he had judged me to be at first, he insisted upon
treating me to a reading of his idylls, and I had to swallow them,
bearing the infliction cheerfully. The day passed off very agreeably; the
housekeeper surrounded me with the kindest attentions --a proof that
she was smitten with me; and, giving way to that pleasing idea, I felt
that, by a very natural system of reciprocity, she had made my conquest.
The good priest thought that the day had passed like lightning, thanks
to all the beauties I had discovered in his poetry, which, to speak the
truth, was below mediocrity, but time seemed to me to drag along very
slowly, because the friendly glances of the housekeeper made me long
for bedtime, in spite of the miserable condition in which I felt myself
morally and physically. But such was my nature; I abandoned myself to
joy and happiness, when, had I been more reasonable, I ought to have
sunk under my grief and sadness.
But the golden time came at last. I found the pretty housekeeper full of
compliance, but only up to a certain point, and as she offered some
resistance when I shewed myself disposed to pay a full homage to her
charms, I quietly gave up the undertaking, very well pleased for both of
us that it had not been carried any further, and I sought my couch in
peace. But I had not seen the end of the adventure, for the next morning,
when she brought my coffee, her pretty, enticing manners allured me to
bestow a few loving caresses upon her, and if she did not abandon
herself entirely, it was only, as she said, because she was afraid of some
surprise. The day passed off very pleasantly with the good priest, and at
night, the house- keeper no longer fearing detection, and I having on
my side taken every precaution necessary