“In profound submission to your majesty’s will,
   “I remain,
               “Casanova.

“Given at Vienna, January 21st, 1769.”

When I had finished the petition, I made a fair draft of it, and sent it in to the prince, who sent it back to me telling me that he would place it in the empress’s hands immediately, but that he would be much obliged by my making a copy for his own use.

I did so, and gave both copies to the valet de chambre, and went my way.  I trembled like a paralytic, and was afraid that my anger might get me into difficulty.  By way of calming myself, I wrote out in the style of a manifesto the narrative I had given to the vile Schrotembach, and which that unworthy magistrate had refused to return to me.

At seven o’clock Count Vitzthum came into my room.  He greeted me in a friendly manner and begged me to tell him the story of the girl I had gone to see, on the promise of the Latin quatrain referring to her accommodating disposition.  I gave him the address and copied out the verses, and he said that was enough to convince an enlightened judge that I had been slandered; but he, nevertheless, was very doubtful whether justice would be done me.

“What! shall I be obliged to leave Vienna to-morrow?”

“No, no, the empress cannot possibly refuse you the week’s delay.”

“Why not?”

“Oh! no one could refuse such an appeal as that.  Even the prince could not help smiling as he was reading it in his cold way.  After reading it he passed it on to me, and then to the Venetian ambassador, who asked him if he meant to give it to the empress as it stood.  ‘This petition,’ replied the prince, ‘might be sent to God, if one knew the way;’ and forthwith he ordered one of his secretaries to fold it up and see that it was delivered.  We talked of you for the rest of dinner, and I had the pleasure of hearing the Venetian ambassador say that no one could discover any reason for your imprisonment under the Leads.  Your duel was also discussed, but on that point we only knew what has appeared in the newspapers.  Oblige me by giving me a copy of your petition; that phrase of Schrotembach and the slipper pleased me vastly.”

I copied out the document, and gave it him with a copy of my manifesto.  Before he left me the count renewed the invitation to take refuge with him, if I did not hear from the empress before the expiration of the twenty-four hours.

At ten o’clock I had a visit from the Comte de la Perouse, the Marquis de las Casas, and Signor Uccelli, the secretary of the Venetian embassy.  The latter came to ask for a copy of my petition for his chief.  I promised he should have it, and I also sent a copy of my manifesto.  The only thing which rather interfered with the dignity of this latter piece, and gave it a somewhat comic air, were the four Latin verses, which might make people imagine that, after enjoying the girl as Hebe, I had gone in