is speech I bent down, and stooped
to the, for me, unwonted abasement of kissing a woman's hand five or six
times.

All my entreaties, and even this last act of submission, were of no
avail. Madame told me in conclusion that, for reasons which I did not
know, the official decree was irreversible. The Ricci would be conducted
by an officer of the Council of Ten to the theatre next evening. After
that, the comedy might cease to run; and my protege Gratarol ought to be
well contented with the result of the whole matter. She rose to rejoin
her company, and I took my departure with my witness, Benedetti.

This was not, however, the last act for me of that long trying day. I
met my best of friends, Maffei, and reported the ill success of my
efforts. He undertook to go at once to Gratarol, and tell him that the
performance on the 17th was inevitable. He must try to endure his
humiliation in silence. On the 18th, and from that night forward, my
comedy should never more be seen upon the stage.

Maffei returned, discouraged and annoyed, to inform me that Gratarol
still stood by his "cogent and irrefragable demonstrations." "Count
Gozzi," he had said, "can and ought to meet my wishes,"--the wishes of
his worship. I replied to my friend that I felt sure Gratarol was about
to play some awkward trick. We had both involved ourselves in a nasty
job, I by undertaking to use my influence in the man's behalf, and
Maffei by rendering himself the protector of a maniac whose churlish
character was ill adapted to his candid friendship. "Oh, bad, bad!"
murmured Maffei between his teeth, downcast and mortified to an extent
which moved my sympathy. "Do you perhaps know any person of authority
and good sense," I inquired, "who has influence over this lunatic?" "If
there is any one," he replied, "I think we shall discover this person
in Gratarol's uncle, Signor Francesco Contarini. This gentleman holds
the private affairs of the family, and Gratarol's own disordered
fortunes, in his hands. Gratarol can hardly refuse to pay attention to
what he says." "I wish I had the good fortune to know Signor Contarini,"
said I: "that is not my privilege; but if you will introduce me, we may
persuade him to open his nephew's eyes to the prudence of accepting the
inevitable."

On this suggestion, we repaired at once to Signor Contarini's dwelling
at S. Angelo. He received me with politeness, and asked me to explain my
errand. I laid the whole matter in its m