I went to my new Maecenas and found him in bed.
"I am compelled to observe strict diet," he said to me; "I shall have to let you dine alone, but you will not lose by it as my cook does not know it. What I wanted to tell you is that your stanzas are, I am afraid, too pretty, for the marchioness adores them. If you had read them to me in the same way that she does, I could never have made up my mind to offer them."
"But she believes them to be written by your eminence?"
"Of course."
"That is the essential point, monsignor."
"Yes; but what should I do if she took it into her head to compose some new stanzas for me?"
"You would answer through the same pen, for you can dispose of me night and day, and rely upon the utmost secrecy."
"I beg of you to accept this small present; it is some negrillo snuff from Habana, which Cardinal Acquaviva has given me."
The snuff was excellent, but the box that held it was better still, a splendid case of gold and enamel. I took it with respect and thanked him warmly.
If his eminence did not know how to write poetry, at least he knew how to be generous, and in a delicate manner, and that science is, at least in my estimation, superior to the other for a great nobleman.
At noon, to my surprise, the beautiful marchioness appeared, dressed elegantly.
"If I had known you were in good company," she said to the cardinal, "I would not have come."
"I am sure, dear marchioness, you will not find our dear abbe in the way."
"No," she replied, "for I believe him to be honest and true."
I kept at a respectful distance, ready to withdraw with my splendid snuff-box at the first jest she might hurl at me.
The cardinal asked whether she intended to remain for dinner.
"Yes," she answered; "but I shall not enjoy my dinner, for I hate to eat alone."
"If you would honour him so far," said the cardinal, "the abbé would keep you company."
She gave me a gracious look and said nothing.
It was the first time I had found myself in the presence of a woman of quality in such circumstances, and that air of patronage, though softened by kindness, was not to my taste.
It seemed to place love itself out of reach.
Yet, being in the cardinal's room, I persuaded myself that she had a right to treat me in that fashion.
The table was set beside the cardinal's bed, and the marchioness, who ate very little, encouraged my appetite by the attention she gave it.
"I have told you," said Cardinal S. C., "that the abbé is my equal in that respect."
"I truly believe," answered the marchioness, "that he does not remain far behind you; but," added she with flattery, "you are more dainty in your tastes."
"Would her ladyship be so good as to tell me in what I have appeared to her to be a mere glutton? For in all things I like only dainty and exquisite morsels."
"Explain what you mean by saying in all things," said the cardinal.
I laughed, and, taking the liberty of doing so, I improvised a few verses in which I named all that seemed to me dainty and exquisite. The marchioness applauded, and said she admired my courage.
"My courage, madam, is due to you, for I am as timid as a hare when I am not encouraged; you are the author of my impromptu."
"I admire you. As for myself, were I encouraged by Apollo himself, I could not compose four lines without paper and ink."
"Only give way boldly to your genius, madam, and you will produce poetry worthy of heaven."
"That is my opinion, too," said the cardinal. "I entreat you to give me permission to show your ten stanzas to the abbe."
"They are not very good, but I have no objection provided it remains between us."
The cardinal then handed me the stanzas written by the marchioness, and I read them aloud with all the warmth and emphasis such verses demanded.
"How well you have read those stanzas!" said the marchioness; "I can hardly believe them to be my own composition; I thank you very much. But have the goodness to give the benefit of your reading to the stanzas which his eminence has written in answer to mine. They surpass them much."
"Do not believe it, my dear abbe," said the cardinal, handing them to me. "Yet try not to let them lose anything through your reading."
There was no need for such a recommendation.
The lines were my own, and I could not have rendered them otherwise than with my best voice. Before me sat the beautiful woman who had inspired them, and her eyes, no less than the wine already warming my blood, gave Apollo the courage to do his duty.
I read the stanzas with such force and feeling that even the cardinal was charmed by them, but when I came to those beauties which the poet may only hint at and never openly survey, I saw the lovely marchioness colour at once, and her cheeks took on a deep rose.
She seized the paper from my hands in some heat, declaring that I was adding verses of my own.
It was true enough, but I did not confess it. I was all aflame, and the fire was scorching her as well as me.
The cardinal, having fallen asleep, she rose and went to the balcony.
I followed her.
She seated herself in a high seat, and I remained before her, so near that her knee touched the fob pocket where my watch lay.
What a position!
Taking hold gently of one of her hands, I told her that she had ignited in my soul a devouring flame, that I adored her, and that, unless some hope was left to me of finding her sensible to my sufferings, I was determined to fly away from her forever.
"Yes, beautiful marchioness, pronounce my sentence."
"I fear you are a libertine and an unfaithful lover."
"I am neither one nor the other."
With these words I folded her in my arms, and I pressed upon her lovely lips, as pure as a rose, an ardent kiss which she received with the best possible grace.
This kiss, the forerunner of the most delicious pleasures, had imparted to my hands the greatest boldness; I was on the point of.... but the marchioness, changing her position, entreated me so sweetly to respect her.
Enjoying new voluptuousness through my very obedience, I not only abandoned an easy victory, but I even begged her pardon, which I soon read in the most loving look.
She spoke then of Lucrezia, and was pleased by the discretion I showed. After that she mentioned the cardinal, and did her best to persuade me that nothing passed between them beyond an innocent friendship.
Of course I had my opinion on that subject, but it was my interest to appear to believe every word she uttered.
We recited a few lines from our best poets. She remained seated, I stood before her. My eyes rested on her lovely charms to which I remained insensible in appearance as I already determined not to press her that evening for greater favours than those I had already received.
The cardinal woke from his long and peaceful siesta, rose in his nightcap, and came to join us with a good natured question about whether we had tired of waiting for him.
I remained until nightfall, then returned home well satisfied with my day's work, though resolved to keep my ardour in check until the opportunity for complete victory offered itself.
From that day on, the charming marchioness never ceased to give me the marks of her particular esteem.
I began to count on the carnival, which was close at hand. The more I spared her delicacy, the more I believed she would seek occasion to reward my constancy and crown it at last with happiness.
But destiny had other designs.
Fortune turned away just as the Pope and Cardinal Acquaviva were thinking of giving me a really good position.
The Holy Father congratulated me on the beautiful snuff box Cardinal S. C. had given me, though he was careful never to name the marchioness.
Cardinal Acquaviva made no secret of his delight that his brother cardinal had presented me with negrillo snuff in so splendid a case.
Abbé Gama, seeing me so plainly advanced on the road to success, no longer dared to advise me. As for the virtuous Father Georgi, he gave me only one advice, to cling to the lovely marchioness and to make no other acquaintance.
Such was my position- a brilliant one, when on Christmas Day Barbara Dalacqua's lover entered my room, locked the door, and threw himself upon the sofa.
"I have come to bid you farewell," he said. "This is the last time you will see me. I only come to beg of you some good advice."
"On what subject can I advise you?"
"Take this and read it; it will explain everything."
It was a letter from his mistress; the contents were these:
"I am pregnant of a child, the pledge of our mutual love; I can no longer have any doubt of it, my beloved, and I forewarn you that I have made up my mind to quit Rome alone, and to go away to die where it may please God, if you refuse to take care of me and save me. I would suffer anything, do anything, rather than let my father discover the truth."
I folded the letter and looked at him. His face had gone pale.
"If you are a man of honour," I said, "you cannot abandon the poor girl. Marry her in spite of your father, in spite of her own, and live together honestly. The eternal Providence of God will watch over you and help you in your difficulties."
He listened in silence. The trouble in his eyes gave way little by little, and when he left me he seemed more composed.
At the beginning of January 1744 he came again, and with a cheerfulness that made me look at him twice.
"I have hired," he said, "the top floor of the house next to Barbara's dwelling; she knows it, and to-night I will gain her apartment through one of the windows of the garret, and we will make all our arrangements to enable me to carry her off. I have made up my mind; I have decided upon taking her to Naples, and I will take with us the servant who, sleeping in the garret, had to be made a confidante of."
"God speed you, my friend!"
A week later, near eleven at night, he entered my room accompanied by an abbe.
"What do you want so late?" I asked.
"I wish to introduce you to this handsome abbe."
I looked up, and to my astonishment I recognized Barbara.
"Has anyone seen you enter the house?" I enquired.
"No; and if we had been seen, what of it? It is only an abbe. We now pass every night together."
"I congratulate you."
"The servant is our friend; she has consented to follow us, and all our arrangements are completed."
"I wish you every happiness. Adieu. I beg you to leave me."