England, is the great deference that is showed to the disguised. Here
they do not catch at those little dirty opportunities of saying any
ill-natured thing they know of you, do not abuse you because they may,
or talk gross bawdy to a woman of quality. I found the other day, by a
play of Etheridge's, that we have had a sort of Carnival even since the
Reformation; 'tis in _She would if She could_, they talk of going
a-mumming in Shrove-tide.--

After talking so much of diversions, I fear you will attribute to them
the fondness I own I contract for Florence; but it has so many other
charms, that I shall not want excuses for my taste. The freedom of the
Carnival has given me opportunities to make several acquaintances; and
if I have not found them refined, learned, polished, like some other
cities, yet they are civil, good-natured, and fond of the English. Their
little partiality for themselves, opposed to the violent vanity of the
French, makes them very amiable in my eyes. I can give you a comical
instance of their great prejudice about nobility; it happened yesterday.
While we were at dinner at Mr. Mann's, word was brought by his
secretary, that a cavalier demanded audience of him upon an affair of
honour. Gray and I flew behind the curtain of the door. An elderly
gentleman, whose attire was not certainly correspondent to the greatness
of his birth, entered, and informed the British minister, that one
Martin, an English painter, had left a challenge for him at his house,
for having said Martin was no gentleman. He would by no means have spoke
of the duel before the transaction of it, but that his honour, his
blood, his &c. would never permit him to fight with one who was no
cavalier; which was what he came to inquire of his excellency. We
laughed loud laughs, but unheard: his fright or his nobility had closed
his ears. But mark the sequel: the instant he was gone, my very English
curiosity hurried me out of the gate St. Gallo; 'twas the place and hour