The so-called father of the false Astrodi came and whispered that his daughter begged me to say that she was the celebrated Astrodi I had known at Paris. I replied, also in a whisper, that I would not run the risk of being posted as a liar by bolstering up an imposture. The ease with which a rogue invites a gentleman to share in a knavery is astonishing; he must think his confidence confers an honour.
At the end of the first act a score of lackeys in the prince’s livery took round ices to the front boxes. I thought it my duty to refuse. A young gentleman, as fair as love, came up to me, and with easy politeness asked me why I had refused an ice.
“Not having the honour to know anyone here, I did not care that anyone should be able to say that he had regaled one who was unknown to him.”
“But you, sir, are a man who needs no introduction.”
“You do me too much honour.”
“You are staying at the ‘St. Omer’!”
“Yes; I am only stopping here to see Vaucluse, where I think of going to-morrow if I can get a good guide.”
“If you would do me the honour of accepting me, I should be delighted. My name is Dolci, I am son of the captain of the vice-legate’s guard.”
“I feel the honour you do me, and I accept your obliging offer. I will put off my start till your arrival.”
“I will be with you at seven.”