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 Abbé Alfani, who had taken the title so as to escape the notice of the Neapolitans, he said,—
“The abbé 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, will always be glad to see you.”
“What! you have a mistress, have you?”
“Yes, but only for form’s sake, as I am very fond of my wife. All the same, I am supposed to be deeply in love with her, and even jealous, as I never introduce anyone to her, and do not allow her to receive any visitors.”
“But does not your young and handsome duchess object to your keeping a mistress?”