felt I should do well to withdraw in good time. As I took leave of him,
Don Antonio presented me with a fine gold watch and gave me a letter for
Don Gaspar Vidaldi, whom he called his best friend. Don Gennaro paid me
the sixty ducats, and his son, swearing eternal friendship, asked me to
write to him. They all accompanied me to the coach, blending their tears
with mine, and loading me with good wishes and blessings.

From my landing in Chiozza up to my arrival in Naples, fortune had seemed
bent upon frowning on me; in Naples it began to shew itself less adverse,
and on my return to that city it entirely smiled upon me. Naples has
always been a fortunate place for me, as the reader of my memoirs will
discover. My readers must not forget that in Portici I was on the point
of disgracing myself, and there is no remedy against the degradation of
the mind, for nothing can restore it to its former standard. It is a case
of disheartening atony for which there is no possible cure.

I was not ungrateful to the good Bishop of Martorano, for, if he had
unwittingly injured me by summoning me to his diocese, I felt that to his
letter for M. Gennaro I was indebted for all the good fortune which had
just befallen me. I wrote to him from Rome.

I was wholly engaged in drying my tears as we were driving through the
beautiful street of Toledo, and it was only after we had left Naples that
I could find time to examine the countenance of my travelling companions.
Next to me, I saw a man of from forty to fifty, with a pleasing face and
a lively air, but, opposite to me, two charming faces delighted my eyes.
They belonged to two ladies, young and pretty, very well dressed, with a
look of candour and modesty. This discovery was most agreeable, but I
felt sad and I wanted calm and silence. We reached Avessa without one
word being exchanged, and as the vetturino stopped there only to water