Leonilda was only seventeen, and was as pretty a girl as the heart could desire.
The duke repeated a lively epigram of Lafontaine’s on “Enjoyment,” which is only found in the first edition of his works. It begins as follows:—
“La jouissance et les desirs
Sont ce que l’homme a de plus rare;
Mais ce ne sons pas vrais plaisirs
Des le moment qu’on les separe.”
I have translated this epigram into Italian and Latin; in the latter language I was almost able to render Lafontaine line for line; but I had to use twenty lines of Italian to translate the first ten lines of the French. Of course this argues nothing as to the superiority of the one language over the other.
In the best society at Naples one addresses a newcomer in the second person singular as a peculiar mark of distinction. This puts both parties at their ease without diminishing their mutual respect for one another.
Leonilda had already turned my first feeling of admiration into something much warmer, and the opera, which lasted for five hours, seemed over in a moment.
After the two ladies had gone the duke said, “Now we must part, unless you are fond of games of chance.”
“I don’t object to them when I am to play with good hands.”
“Then follow me; ten or twelve of my friends will play faro, and then sit down to a cold collation, but I warn you it is a secret, as gaming is forbidden. I will answer for you keeping your own counsel, however.”
“You may do so.”