I chose a collocation of letters which pleased my taste, and ennobled myself without being indebted to any prince, who might perhaps have been disinclined to allow my claim.
I style myself Casanova, Chevalier de Seingalt.

I am indeed sorry, Lieutenant Lorenzi, if this name fails to meet with your approval." "Seingalt! It is a splendid name," said the Abbate, repeating it several times, as if he were tasting it.
"There is not a man in the world," exclaimed Olivo, "who has a better right to name himself Chevalier than my distinguished friend Casanova!" "As for you, Lorenzi," added the Marchese, "when your reputation has reached as far as that of Signor Casanova, Chevalier de Seingalt, we shall be willing enough, should you so desire, to give you also the title of Chevalier." Casanova, somewhat nettled at not being allowed to fight his own battle, was about to resume the defence in person, when out of the dusk of the garden two elderly gentlemen, soberly habited, put in an appearance beside the table.

Olivo greeted them with effusive cordiality, being delighted to turn the conversation and to put an end to a dispute that threatened to destroy the harmony of the evening.

The newcomers were the brothers Ricardi.

As Casanova had learned from Olivo, they were old bachelors.