appeared to be a good girl. I continued my conversation with the mother,
but I changed the topic.

"Are the Parmesans satisfied with being the subjects of a Spanish
prince?"

"Satisfied? Well, in that case, we should be easily pleased, for we are
now in a regular maze. Everything is upset, we do not know where we are.
Oh! happy times of the house of Farnese, whither have you departed? The
day before yesterday I went to the theatre, and Harlequin made everybody
roar with laughter. Well, now, fancy, Don Philipo, our new duke, did all
he could to remain serious, and when he could not manage it, he would
hide his face in his hat so that people should not see that he was
laughing, for it is said that laughter ought never to disturb the grave
and stiff countenance of an Infante of Spain, and that he would be
dishonoured in Madrid if he did not conceal his mirth. What do you think
of that? Can such manners suit us? Here we laugh willingly and heartily!
Oh! the good Duke Antonio (God rest his soul!) was certainly as great a
prince as Duke Philipo, but he did not hide himself from his subjects
when he was pleased, and he would sometimes laugh so heartily that he
could be heard in the streets. Now we are all in the most fearful
confusion, and for the last three months no one in Parma knows what's
o'clock."

"Have all the clocks been destroyed?"

"No, but ever since God created the world, the sun has always gone down
at half-past five, and at six the bells have always been tolled for the
Angelus. All respectable people knew that at that time the candle had to
be lit. Now, it is very strange, the sun has gone mad, for he sets every