“It has always been a pleasant recollection to me.”

“No doubt.  Count Marulli told me yesterday that you spoke very highly of the grand duke, and you are quite right.  You can talk to me in confidence; the walls of this room have no ears.  How much did you get of the twelve thousand guineas?”

I told him the whole story, and shewed him a copy of the letter which I had written to the grand duke.  He laughed, and said he was sorry I had been punished for nothing.

When he heard I thought of staying some months at Bologna he told me that I might reckon on perfect freedom, and that as soon as the matter ceased to become common talk he would give me open proof of his friendship.

After seeing the cardinal I resolved to continue at Bologna the kind of life that I had been leading at Florence.  Bologna is the freest town in all Italy; commodities are cheap and good, and all the pleasures of life may be had there at a low price.  The town is a fine one, and the streets are lined with arcades—­a great comfort in so hot a place.

As to society, I did not trouble myself about it.  I knew the Bolognese; the nobles are proud, rude, and violent; the lowest orders, known as the birichini, are worse than the lazzaroni of Naples, while the tradesmen and the middle classes are generally speaking worthy and respectable people.  At Bologna, as at Naples, the two extremes of society are corrupt, while the middle classes are respectable, and the depository of virtue, talents, and learning.

However, my intention was to leave society alone, to pass my time in study, and to make the acquaintance of a few men of letters, who are easily accessible everywhere.

At Florence ignorance is the rule and learning the exception, while at Bologna the tincture of letters is almost universal.  The university has thrice the usual number of professors; but they are all ill paid, and have to get their living out of the students, who are numerous.  Printing is cheaper at Bologna than anywhere else, and though the Inquisition is established there the press is almost entirely free.

All the exiles from Florence reached Bologna four or five days after myself.  Madame Lamberti only passed through on her way to Venice.  Zanovitch and Zen stayed five or six days; but they were no longer in partnership, having quarreled over the sharing of the booty.

Zanovitch had refused to make one of Lord Lincoln’s bills of exchange payable to Zen, because he did not wish to make himself liable in case the Englishman refused to pay.  He wanted to go to England, and told Zen he was at liberty to do the same.

They went to Milan without having patched up their quarrel, but the Milanese Government ordered them to leave Lombardy, and I never heard what arrangements they finally came to.  Later on I was informed that the Englishman’s bills had all been settled to the uttermost farthing.

Medini, penniless as usual, had taken up his abode in the hotel where I was staying, bringing with him his mistress, her sister, and her mother, but with only one servant.  He informed me that the grand duke had refused to listen to any of them at Pisa, where he had received a second order to leave Tuscany, and so had been obliged to sell everything.  Of course he wanted me to help him, but I turned a deaf ear to his entreaties.