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 making 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, w