CHAPTER IX

My Short But Happy Stay at Naples—­The Duke de Matalone My
Daughter—­Donna Lucrezia—­My Departure

I shall not, dear reader, attempt the impossible, however much I should like to describe the joy, the happiness, I may say the ecstasy, which I experienced in returning to Naples, of which I had such pleasant memories, and where, eighteen years ago, I had made my first fortune in returning from Mataro.  As I had come there for the second time to keep a promise I had made to the Duke de Matalone to come and see him at Naples, I ought to have visited this nobleman at once; but foreseeing that from the time I did so I should have little liberty left me, I began by enquiring after all my old friends.

I walked out early in the morning and called on Belloni’s agent.  He cashed my letter of credit and gave me as many bank-notes as I liked, promising that nobody should know that we did business together.  From the bankers I went to see Antonio Casanova, but they told me he lived near Salerno, on an estate he had bought which gave him the title of marquis.  I was vexed, but I had no right to expect to find Naples in the statu quo I left it.  Polo was dead, and his son lived at St. Lucia with his wife and children; he was a boy when I saw him last, and though I should have much liked to see him again I had no time to do so.

It may be imagined that I did not forget the advocate, Castelli, husband of my dear Lucrezia, whom I had loved so well at Rome and Tivoli.  I longed to see her face once more, and I thought of the joy with which we should recall old times that I could never forget.  But Castelli had been dead for some years, and his widow lived at a distance of twenty miles from Naples.  I resolved not to return to Rome without embracing her.  As to Lelio Caraffa, he was still alive and residing at the Matalone Palace.

I returned, feeling tired with my researches, dressed with care, and drove to the Matalone Palace, where they told me that the duke was at table.  I did not care for that but had my name sent in, and the duke came out and did me the honour of embracing me and thouing me, and then presented me to his wife, a daughter of the Duke de Bovino, and to the numerous company at table.  I told him I had only come to Naples in fulfillment of the promise I had made him at Paris.

“Then,” said he, “you must stay with me;” and, without waiting for my answer, ordered my luggage to be brought from the inn, and my carriage to be placed in his coach-house.  I accepted his invitation.

One of the guests, a fine-looking man, on hearing my name announced, said gaily,—­

“If you bear my name, you must be one of my father’s bastards.”

“No,” said I, directly, “one of your mother’s.”

This repartee made everybody laugh, and the gentleman who had addressed me came and embraced me, not in the least offended.  The joke was explained to me.  His name was Casalnovo, not Casanova, and he was duke and lord of the fief of that name.