"My stanzas," I said to myself, "are too fiery; they compromise her dignity, and her pride is offended at my knowing the secret of her intrigue with Cardinal S.C.
Yet, I feel certain that the dread she expresses of my want of discretion is only feigned, it is but a pretext to turn me out of her favour.

She has not understood my reserve! What would she have done, if I had painted her in the simple apparel of the golden age, without any of those veils which modesty imposes upon her sex!" I was sorry I had not done so.

I undressed and went to bed.

My head was scarcely on the pillow when the Abbe Gama knocked at my door.

I pulled the door-string, and coming in, he said, "My dear sir, the cardinal wishes to see you, and I am sent by the beautiful marchioness and Cardinal S.C., who desire you to come down." "I am very sorry, but I cannot go; tell them the truth; I am ill in bed." As the abbe did not return, I judged that he had faithfully acquitted himself of the commission, and I spent a quiet night.