truth) the wine had produced in me a wild disposition to take offence and provoke quarrel. As the Prince left me, I turned, and saw Zanoni at my side.
"'The Prince is a braggart,' said he, with the same smile that displeased me before. 'He would monopolise all fortune and all love. Let us take our revenge.'
"'And how?'
"'He has at this moment, in his house, the most enchanting singer in Naples — the celebrated Viola Pisani. She is here, it is true, not by her own choice; he carried her hither by force, but he will pretend that she adores him. Let us insist on his producing this secret treasure, and when she enters, the Duc de R——— can have no doubt that his flatteries and attentions will charm the lady, and provoke all the jealous fears of our host. It would be a fair revenge upon his imperious self-conceit.'
"This suggestion delighted me. I hastened to the Prince. At that instant the musicians had just commenced; I waved my hand, ordered the music to stop, and, addressing the Prince, who was standing in the centre of one of the gayest groups, complained of his want of hospitality in affording to us such poor proficients in the art, while he reserved for his own solace the lute and voice of the first performer in Naples. I demanded, half-laughingly, half-seriously, that he should produce the Pisani. My demand was received with shouts of applause by the rest. We drowned the replies of our host with uproar, and would hear no denial. 'Gentlemen,' at last said the Prince, when he
