Thus my days of calm study vanished away.  I had to partake in the debauchery of a young rake, and all out of pure sensibility.

The Chevalier Morosini was a thorough-paced profligate.  He hated literature, good society, and the company of sensible people.  His daily pleasures were furious riding, hard drinking, and hard dissipation with prostitutes, whom he sometimes almost killed.

This young nobleman paid a man for the sole service of getting him a woman or a girl every day.

During the two months which he passed in Florence I saved his life a score of times.  I got very tired of my duty, but I felt bound to persevere.

He was liberal to the verge of recklessness, and would never allow me to pay for anything.  Even here, however, disputes often arose between us; as he paid, he wanted me to eat, drink, and dissipate in the same measures as himself.  However, I had my own way on most occasions, only giving in when it suited me to do so.

We went to see the opera at Lucca, and drought two of the dancers home to supper.  As the chevalier was drunk as usual, he treated the woman he had chosen—­a superb creature—­very indifferently.  The other was pretty enough, but I had done nothing serious with her, so I proceeded to avenge the beauty.  She took me for the chevalier’s father, and advised me to give him a better education.

After the chevalier was gone I betook myself to my studies again, but I supped every night with Madame Denis, who had formerly been a dancer in the King of Prussia’s service, and had retired to Florence.

She was about my age, and therefore not young, but still she had sufficient remains of her beauty to inspire a tender passion; she did not look more than thirty.  She was as fresh as a young girl, had excellent manners, and was extremely intelligent.  Besides all these advantages, she had a comfortable apartment on the first floor of one of the largest cafes in Florence.  In front of her room was a balcony where it was delicious to sit and enjoy the cool of the evening.

The reader may remember how I had become her friend at Berlin in 1764, and when we met again at Florence our old flames were rekindled.

The chief boarder in the house where she lived was Madame Brigonzi, whom I had met at Memel.  This lady, who pretended that she had been my mistress twenty-five years before, often came into Madame Denis’s rooms with an old lover of hers named Marquis Capponi.

He was an agreeable and well-educated man; and noticing that he seemed to enjoy my conversation I called on him, and he called on me, leaving his card as I was not at home.

I returned the visit, and he introduced me to his family and invited me to dinner.  For the first time since I had come to Florence I dressed myself with elegance and wore my jewels.

At the Marquis Capponi’s I made the acquaintance of Corilla’s lover, the Marquis Gennori, who took me to a house where I met my fate.  I fell in love with Madame a young widow, who had been spending a few months in Paris.  This visit had added to her other attractions the charm of a good manner, which always counts for so much.