wit and a poet; and if he had been acquainted with the requirements of
the stage he would have written better plays than Goldoni, as he had a
greater command of language.

I told Passano, for civility's sake, that he ought to get his Chiareide
printed.

"I would do so," said he, "if I could find a publisher, for I am not rich
enough to pay the expenses, and the publishers are a pack of ignorant
beggars. Besides, the press is not free, and the censor would not let the
epithet I give to my hero pass. If I could go to Switzerland I am sure it
could be managed; but I must have six sequins to walk to Switzerland, and
I have not got them."

"And when you got to Switzerland, where there are no theatres, what would
you do for a living?"

"I would paint in miniature. Look at those."

He gave me a number of small ivory tablets, representing obscene
subjects, badly drawn and badly painted.

"I will give you an introduction to a gentleman at Berne," I said; and
after supper I gave him a letter and six sequins. He wanted to force some
of his productions on me, but I would not have them.

I was foolish enough to give him a letter to pretty Sara's father, and I
told him to write to me at Rome, under cover of the banker Belloni.

I set out from Leghorn the next day and went to Pisa, where I stopped two