I was served in good style, my appetite was excellent, and I passed a quiet night in a comfortable bed.

In the morning I told the inn-keeper that I would return for my dinner, and I went out to visit the royal palace.

As I passed through the gate, I was met by a man of prepossessing appearance, dressed in the eastern fashion, who offered to shew me all over the palace, saying that I would thus save my money.

I was in a position to accept any offer; I thanked him for his kindness.
Happening during the conversation to state that I was a Venetian, he told me that he was my subject, since he came from Zante.

I acknowledged his polite compliment with a reverence.
"I have," he said, "some very excellent muscatel wine 'grown in the East, which I could sell you cheap." "I might buy some, but I warn you I am a good judge." "So much the better.