The ball took place, and went off splendidly.  All the guests belonged to Juliette’s set, with the exception of Madame Orio, her nieces, and the procurator Rosa, who sat together in the room adjoining the hall, and whom I had been permitted to introduce as persons of no consequence whatever.

While the after-supper minuets were being danced Juliette took me apart, and said, “Take me to your bedroom; I have just got an amusing idea.”

My room was on the third story; I shewed her the way.  The moment we entered she bolted the door, much to my surprise.  “I wish you,” she said, “to dress me up in your ecclesiastical clothes, and I will disguise you as a woman with my own things.  We will go down and dance together.  Come, let us first dress our hair.”

Feeling sure of something pleasant to come, and delighted with such an unusual adventure, I lose no time in arranging her hair, and I let her afterwards dress mine.  She applies rouge and a few beauty spots to my face; I humour her in everything, and to prove her satisfaction, she gives me with the best of grace a very loving kiss, on condition that I do not ask for anything else.

“As you please, beautiful Juliette, but I give you due notice that I adore you!”

I place upon my bed a shirt, an abbe’s neckband, a pair of drawers, black silk stockings—­in fact, a complete fit-out.  Coming near the bed, Juliette drops her skirt, and cleverly gets into the drawers, which were not a bad fit, but when she comes to the breeches there is some difficulty; the waistband is too narrow, and the only remedy is to rip it behind or to cut it, if necessary.  I undertake to make everything right, and, as I sit on the foot of my bed, she places herself in front of me, with her back towards me.  I begin my work, but she thinks that I want to see too much, that I am not skilful enough, and that my fingers wander in unnecessary places; she gets fidgety, leaves me, tears the breeches, and manages in her own way.  Then I help her to put her shoes on, and I pass the shirt over her head, but as I am disposing the ruffle and the neck-band, she complains of my hands being too curious; and in truth, her bosom was rather scanty.  She calls me a knave and rascal, but I take no notice of her.  I was not going to be duped, and I thought that a woman who had been paid one hundred thousand ducats was well worth some study.  At last, her toilet being completed, my turn comes.  In spite of her objections I quickly get rid of my breeches, and she must put on me the chemise, then a skirt, in a word she has to dress me up.  But all at once, playing the coquette, she gets angry because I do not conceal from her looks the very apparent proof that her charms have some effect on a particular part of my being, and she refuses to grant me the favour which would soon afford both relief and calm.  I try to kiss her, and she repulses me, whereupon I lose patience, and in spite of herself she has to witness the last stage of my excitement.  At the sight of this, she pours out every insulting word she can think of; I endeavour to prove that she is to blame, but it is all in vain.