The palace of Zicci was among the noblest in Naples.

It still stands, though ruined and dismantled, in one of those antique streets from which the old races of the Norman and the Spaniard have long since vanished.
He ascended the vast staircase, and entered the rooms reserved for his private hours.

They were no wise remarkable except for their luxury and splendor, and the absence of what men so learned as Zicci was reputed, generally prize, namely, books.

Zicci seemed to know everything that books can teach; yet of books themselves he spoke and thought with the most profound contempt.
He threw himself on a sofa, and dismissed his attendants for the night; and here it may be observed that Zicci had no one servant who knew anything of his origin, birth, or history.

Some of his attendants he had brought with him from other cities; the rest he had engaged at Naples.
He hired those only whom wealth can make subservient.