My Short But Happy Stay at Naples--The Duke de Matalone My Daughter--Donna Lucrezia--My Departure I shall not, dear reader, attempt the impossible, however much I
should like to describe the joy, the happiness, I may say the ecstasy, which I experienced in returning to Naples, of which I
had such pleasant memories, and where, eighteen years ago, I had made my first fortune in returning from Mataro. As I had come there for the second time to keep a promise I had made to the Duke de Matalone to come and see him at Naples, I ought to have visited this nobleman at once; but foreseeing that from the time I did so I should have little liberty left me, I began by enquiring after all my old friends.
I walked out early in the morning and called on Belloni's agent.
He cashed my letter of credit and gave me as many bank-notes as I
liked, promising that nobody should know that we did business together. From the bankers I went to see Antonio Casanova, but they told me he lived near Salerno, on an estate he had bought which gave him the title of marquis. I was vexed, but I had no right to expect to find Naples in the statu quo I left it. Polo was dead, and his son lived at St. Lucia with his wife and children; he was a boy when I saw him last, and though I should have much liked to see him again I had no time to do so.
It may be imagined that I did not forget the advocate, Castelli, husband of my dear Lucrezia, whom I had loved so well at Rome and Tivoli. I longed to see her face once more, and I thought of the joy with which we should recall old times that I could never forget. But Castelli had been dead for some years, and his widow lived at a distance of twenty miles from Naples. I resolved not to return to Rome without embracing her. As to Lelio Caraffa, he was still alive and residing at the Matalone Palace.
I returned, feeling tired with my researches, dressed with care, and drove to the Matalone Palace, where they told me that the duke was at table. I did not care for that but had my name sent in, and the duke came out and did me the honour of embracing me and thouing me, and then presented me to his wife, a daughter of the Duke de Bovino, and to the numerous company at table. I told him I had only come to Naples in fulfillment of the promise I had made him at Paris.
"Then," said he, "you must stay with me;" and, without waiting for my answer, ordered my luggage to be brought from the inn, and my carriage to be placed in his coach-house. I accepted his invitation.
One of the guests, a fine-looking man, on hearing my name announced, said gaily,--
"If you bear my name, you must be one of my father's bastards."
"No," said I, directly, "one of your mother's."
This repartee made everybody laugh, and the gentleman who had addressed me came and embraced me, not in the least offended. The joke was explained to me. His name was Casalnovo, not Casanova, and he was duke and lord of the fief of that name.
"Did you know," said the Duke de Matalone, "that I had a son?"
"I was told so, but did not believe it, but now I must do penance for my incredulity, for I see before me an angel capable of working this miracle."
The duchess blushed, but did not reward my compliment with so much as a glance; but all the company applauded what I had said, as it was notorious that the duke had been impotent before his marriage.
The duke sent for his son, I admired him, and told the father that the likeness was perfect. A merry monk, who sat at the right hand of the duchess, said, more truthfully, that there was no likeness at all. He had scarcely uttered the words when the duchess coolly gave him a box on the ear, which the monk received with the best grace imaginable.
I talked away to the best of my ability, and in half an hour's time I had won everybody's good graces, with the exception of the duchess, who remained inflexible. I tried to make her talk for two days without success; so as I did not care much about her I
left her to her pride.
As the duke was taking me to my room he noticed my Spaniard, and asked where my secretary was, and when he saw that it was the Abbe Alfani, who had taken the title so as to escape the notice of the Neapolitans, he said,--
"The abbe is very wise, for he has deceived so many people with his false antiques that he might have got into trouble."
He took me to his stables where he had some superb horses, Arabs, English, and Andalusians ; and then to his gallery, a very fine one; to his large and choice library; and at last to his study, where he had a fine collection of prohibited books.
I was reading titles and turning over leaves, when the duke said,--
"Promise to keep the most absolute secrecy on what I am going to shew you."
I promised, without ****** any difficulty, but I expected a surprise of some sort. He then shewed me a satire which I could not understand, but which was meant to turn the whole Court into ridicule. Never was there a secret so easily kept.
"You must come to the St. Charles Theatre," said he, "and I will present you to the handsomest ladies in Naples, and afterwards you can go when you like, as my box is always open to my friends. I
will also introduce you to my mistress, and she, I am sure, will always be glad to see you."
"What! you have a mistress, have you?"
"Yes, but only for form's sake, as I am very fond of my wife. All the same, I am supposed to be deeply in love with her, and even jealous, as I never introduce anyone to her, and do not allow her to receive any visitors."
"But does not your young and handsome duchess object to your keeping a mistress?"
"My wife could not possibly be jealous, as she knows that I am impotent--except, of course, with her."
"I see, but it sems strange; can one be said to have a mistress whom one does not love?"
"I did not say I loved her not; on the contrary, I am very fond of her; she has a keen and pleasant wit, but she interests my head rather than my heart."
"I see; but I suppose she is ugly?"
"Ugly? You shall see her to-night, and you can tell me what you think of her afterwards. She is a handsome and well-educated girl of seventeen."
"Can she speak French?"
"As well as a Frenchwoman."
"I am longing to see her."