A stranger who like myself had never seen her before, asked me who she was.  I said I was a newcomer and did not know, and somebody else said that her husband called himself the Chevalier Stuard, that he came from Lyons, and was going to Marseilles; he came, it appeared, to Avignon a week ago, without servants, and in a very poor carriage.

I intended staying at Avignon only as long as might be necessary to see the Fountain or Fall of Vaucluse, and so I had not got any letters of introduction, and had not the pretext of acquaintance that I might stay and enjoy her fine eyes.  But an Italian who had read and enjoyed the divine Petrarch would naturally wish to see the place made divine by the poet’s love for Laura.  I went to the theatre, where I saw the vice-legate Salviati, women of fashion, neither fair nor foul, and a wretched comic opera; but I neither saw Astrodi nor any other actor from the Comedie Italienne at Paris.

“Where is the famous Astrodi?” said I, to a young man sitting by me, “I have not seen her yet.”

“Excuse me, she has danced and sang before your eyes.”

“By Jove, it’s impossible!  I know her perfectly, and if she has so changed as not to be recognized she is no longer herself.”

I turned to go, and two minutes after the young man I had addressed came up and begged me to come back, and he would take me to Astradi’s dressing-room, as she had recognized me.  I followed him without saying a word, and saw a plain-looking girl, who threw her arms round my neck and addressed me by my name, though I could have sworn I had never seen her before, but she did not leave me time to speak.  Close by I saw a man who gave himself out as the father of the famous Astrodi, who was known to all Paris, who had caused the death of the Comte d’Egmont, one of the most amiable noblemen of the Court of Louis XV.  I thought this ugly female might be her sister, so I sat down and complimented her on her talents.  She asked if I would mind her changing her dress; and in a moment she was running here and there, laughing and shewing a liberality which possibly might have been absent if what she had to display had been worth seeing.

I laughed internally at her wiles, for after my experiences at Grenoble she would have found it a hard task to arouse my desires if she had been as pretty as she was ugly.  Her thinness and her tawny skin could not divert my attention from other still less pleasing features about her.  I admired her confidence in spite of her disadvantages.  She must have credited me with a diabolic appetite, but these women often contrive to extract charms out of their depravity which their delicacy would be impotent to furnish.  She begged me to sup with her, and as she persisted I was obliged to refuse her in a way I should not have allowed myself to use with any other woman.  She then begged me to take four tickets for the play the next day, which was to be for her benefit.  I saw it was only a matter of twelve francs, and delighted to be quit of her so cheaply I told her to give me sixteen.  I thought she would have gone mad with joy when I gave her a double louis.  She was not the real Astrodi.  I went back to my inn and had a delicious supper in my own room.