e power over me than when I had not money enough to
play."

I will not enter into a discussion as to how far Civitella was right;
but the remedy we had hit upon soon began to be worse than the disease
it was intended to cure. The prince, who could only make the game at
all interesting to himself by staking extremely high, soon overstepped
all bounds. He was quite out of his element. Everything he did seemed
to be done in a passion; all his actions betrayed the uneasiness of his
mind. You know his general indifference to money; he seemed now to have
become totally insensible to its value. Gold flowed through his hands
like water. As he played without the slightest caution he lost almost
invariably. He lost immense sums, for he staked like a desperate
gamester. Dearest O------- , with an aching heart I write it, in four
days he had lost above twelve thousand zechins.

Do not reproach me. I blame myself sufficiently. But how could I
prevent it? Could I do more than warn him? I did all that was in my
power, and cannot find myself guilty. Civitella, too, lost not a
little; I won about six hundred zechins. The unprecedented ill-luck of
the prince excited general attention, and therefore he would not leave
off playing. Civitella, who is always ready to oblige him, immediately
advanced him the required sum. The deficit is made up; but the prince
owes the marquis twenty-four thousand zechins. Oh, how I long for the
savings of his pious sister. Are all sovereigns so, my dear friend?
The prince behaves as though he had done the marquis a great honor, and
he, at any rate, plays his part well.

Civitella sought to quiet me by saying that this recklessness, this
extraordinary ill-luck, would be most effectual in bringing the prince
to his senses. The money, he said, was of no consequence. He himself
would not feel the loss in the least, and would be happy to serve the
prince, at any moment, with three times the amount. The cardinal also
assured me that his nephew's intentions were honest, and that he should
be ready to assist him in carrying them out.

The most unfortunate thing was that these tremendous sacrifices did not
even effect their object. One would have thought that the prince would
at least feel some interest in his play. But such was not the case.
His thoughts were wandering far away, and the passion which we wished to
stifle by his ill-luck in play seemed, on the contrary, only to gather
strength. When, for instance,