Having kept my word with my friends by dining with them on St. Mark’s Day, I went with Dr. Righelini to the parlour of the Vierges to see the taking of the veil.

The Convent of the Vierges is within the jurisdiction of the Doge, whom the nuns style “Most Serene Father.”  They all belong to the first families in Venice.

While I was praising the beauty of Mother M——­ E——­ to Dr. Righelini, he whispered to me that he could get her me for a money payment, if I were curious in the matter.  A hundred sequins for her and ten sequins for the go-between was the price fixed on.  He assured me that Murray had had her, and could have her again.  Seeing my surprise, he added that there was not a nun whom one could not have by paying for her:  that Murray had the courage to disburse five hundred sequins for a nun of Muran—­a rare beauty, who was afterwards the mistress of the French ambassador.

Though my passion for M——­ M——­ was on the wane, I felt my heart gripped as by a hand of ice, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I made no sign.  Notwithstanding, I took the story for an atrocious calumny, but yet the matter was too near my heart for me to delay in bringing it to light at the earliest opportunity.  I therefore replied to Righelini in the calmest manner possible, that one or two nuns might be had for money, but that it could happen very rarely on account of the difficulties in most convents.

“As for the nun of Muran, justly famous for her beauty, if she be M——­ M——­, nun of the convent..., I not only disbelieve that Murray ever had her, but I am sure she was never the French ambassador’s mistress.  If he knew her it could only have been at the grating, where I really cannot say what happens.”

Righelini, who was an honourable and spirited man, answered me coldly that the English ambassador was a man of his word, and that he had the story from his own lips.

“If Mr. Murray,” he continued, “had not told it me under the seal of secrecy I would make him tell it you himself.  I shall be obliged if you will take care that he never knows I told you of it.”

“You may rely on my discretion.”

The same evening, supping at Murray’s casino with Righelini, having the matter at heart, and seeing before me the two men who could clear up everything to my satisfaction, I began to speak with enthusiasm of the beauty of M——­ E——­, whom I had seen at the Vierges.

Here the ambassador struck in, taking the ball on the hop: 

“Between friends,” said he, “you can get yourself the enjoyment of those charms, if you are willing to sacrifice a sum of money—­not too much, either, but you must have the key.”

“Do you think you have it?”

“No, I am sure; and had less trouble than you might suppose.”

“If you are sure; I congratulate you, and doubt no more.  I envy your fortune, for I don’t believe a more perfect beauty could be found in all the convents of Venice.”