Hermitage. It was so delicious that I drank nothing else. I wished to
make a pilgrimage to Vaucluse and begged the landlord to procure me a
good guide, and after I had dressed I went to the theatre.

I found the Astrodi at the door, and giving her my sixteen tickets, I sat
down near the box of the vice-legate Salviati, who came in a little
later, surrounded by a numerous train of ladies and gentlemen bedizened
with orders and gold lace.

The so-called father of the false Astrodi came and whispered that his
daughter begged me to say that she was the celebrated Astrodi I had known
at Paris. I replied, also in a whisper, that I would not run the risk of
being posted as a liar by bolstering up an imposture. The ease with which
a rogue invites a gentleman to share in a knavery is astonishing; he must
think his confidence confers an honour.

At the end of the first act a score of lackeys in the prince's livery
took round ices to the front boxes. I thought it my duty to refuse. A
young gentleman, as fair as love, came up to me, and with easy politeness
asked me why I had refused an ice.

"Not having the honour to know anyone here, I did not care that anyone
should be able to say that he had regaled one who was unknown to him."

"But you, sir, are a man who needs no introduction."

"You do me too much honour."

"You are staying at the 'St. Omer'!"