excused. The knave was called your highness, and the wonderful prince
styled Madame Sagredo his princess. M. D---- R---- tried to persuade me to
call upon the rogue, but I told him that I had said too much, and that I
was neither courageous nor mean enough to retract my words. The whole
imposture would soon have been discovered if anyone had possessed a
peerage, but it just happened that there was not a copy in Corfu, and the
French consul, a fat blockhead, like many other consuls, knew nothing of
family trees. The madcap La Valeur began to walk out a week after his
metamorphosis into a prince. He dined and had supper every day with the
general, and every evening he was present at the reception, during which,
owing to his intemperance, he always went fast asleep. Yet, there were
two reasons which kept up the belief of his being a prince: the first was
that he did not seem afraid of the news expected from Venice, where the
proveditore had written immediately after the discovery; the second was
that he solicited from the bishop the punishment of the priest who had
betrayed his secret by violating the seal of confession. The poor priest
had already been sent to prison, and the proveditore had not the courage
to defend him. The new prince had been invited to dinner by all the naval
officers, but M. D---- R---- had not made up his mind to imitate them so
far, because Madame F---- had clearly warned him that she would dine at
her own house on the day he was invited. I had likewise respectfully
intimated that, on the same occasion, I would take the liberty of dining
somewhere else.

I met the prince one day as I was coming out of the old fortress leading
to the esplanade. He stopped, and reproached me for not having called
upon him. I laughed, and advised him to think of his safety before the
arrival of the news which would expose all the imposture, in which case
the proveditore was certain to treat him very severely. I offered to help
him in his flight from Corfu, and to get a Neapolitan captain, whose ship