He was well-mannered and agreeable, and seemed much above a common workman.  He did not love Margarita or Mdlle.  Bounacorsi; he had merely satisfied their curiosity.  They saw and admired, and wished to come to a nearer acquaintance; he read their minds and offered to satisfy them.  Thereupon the two girls held a consultation, and pretending to submit out of mere complaisance; the double deed was done.  I liked this young man, and gave him linen and clothes.  So before long he had complete confidence in me.  He told me he was in love with a girl, but unhappily for him she was in a convent, and not being able to win her he was becoming desperate.  The chief obstacle to the match lay in the fact that his earnings only amounted to a paul a day, which was certainly an insufficient sum to support a wife on.

He talked so much about her that I became curious, and expressed a desire to see her.  But before coming to this I must recite some other incidents of my stay at Rome.

One day I went to the Capitol to see the prizes given to the art students, and the first face I saw was the face of Mengs.  He was with Battoni and two or three other painters, all being occupied in adjudging the merits of the various pictures.

I had not forgotten his treatment of me at Madrid, so I pretended not to see him; but as soon as he saw me, he came up and addressed me as follows: 

“My dear Casanova, let us forget what happened at Madrid and be friends once more.”

“So be it, provided no allusion is made to the cause of our quarrel; for I warn you that I cannot speak of it and keep my head cool.”

“I dare say; but if you had understood my position at Madrid you would never have obliged me to take a course which gave me great pain.”

“I do not understand you.”

“I dare say not.  You must know, then, that I was strongly suspected of being a Protestant; and if I had shewn myself indifferent to your conduct, I might possibly have been ruined.  But dine with me tomorrow; we will make up a party of friends, and discuss our quarrel in a good bottle of wine.  I know that you do not receive your brother, so he shall not be there.  Indeed, I do not receive him myself, for if I did all honest people would give me the cold shoulder.”

I accepted his friendly invitation, and was punctual to the appointment.

My brother left Rome a short time afterwards with Prince Beloselski, the Russian ambassador to Dresden, with whom he had come; but his visit was unsuccessful, as Rezzonico proved inexorable.  We only saw each other two or three times at Rome.

Three or four days after he had gone I had the agreeable surprise of seeing my brother the priest, in rags as usual.  He had the impudence to ask me to help him.

“Where do you come from?”

“From Venice; I had to leave the place, as I could no longer make a living there.”

“Then how do you think of making a living at Rome?”