"Hush! hush! all the best families speak to him in the street."

"Then the best people are very low here, I suppose?"

"Not more than anywhere else. He is the manager of the opera house, and
the greatest noblemen dine with him and thus secure his favour."

"It's incredible! But why should the high and mighty borgello send me
away from Modena?"

"I don't know, but do you take my advice and go and speak to him; you
will find him a fine fellow."

Instead of going to see this b. . . . I called on the Abbe Testa Grossa,
whom I had known at Venice in 1753. Although he was a man of low
extraction he had a keen wit. At this time he was old and resting on his
laurels; he had fought his way into favour by the sheer force of merit,
and his master, the Duke of Modena, had long chosen him as his
representative with other powers.

Abbe Testa Grossa recognized me and gave me the most gracious reception,
but when he heard of what had befallen me he seemed much annoyed.

"What can I do?" said I.

"You had better go, as the man may put a much more grievous insult on
you."

"I will do so, but could you oblige me by telling me the reason for such
a high-handed action?"