Now listen carefully! What time is it?… Near midnight? A good time, the time when day completes its magic round and witches reach for their broomsticks. Are you drunk? Your breath stinks of garlic, your lips are shiny with grease, you look positively cross-eyed. It must be that Verona wine. Stop staggering about for an instant and listen to me! We have a great opportunity, Balbi! There has been a wonderful turn of events! You may well rub your hands because your prayers are answered: our time in Bolzano is over and we shall set out at dawn. Tell the innkeeper to prepare the bill and hitch up some horses! You will pack and bid farewell to the kitchen maids and to all the people you gulled, you old skirt-lifter, you horse thief…. No, on the other hand, wait, it may be better not to say anything to them just yet. You can write your fond and amorous farewells from Munich in the morning. I want you to pack, if there is anything to pack, then to go to your room and wait for daybreak. Make sure it is the best horses they are hitching up, and have a word with the coach keeper too: it’s a closed carriage I want, with fur blankets and hot water bottles! Make sure everyone is ready and everything in its place! Tell them that it’s either a shower of gold or a sound beating for them in the morning, it depends on them which! No questions! Clap both hands over your mouth and listen very carefully. When I call you I want you to grab your things and to dash to the carriage. You will seat yourself next to the driver! I am not asking you to do this, Balbi, but ordering you! Take utmost care until we are beyond the reach of Venice for the palm of the messer grande is as itchy as your neck. I want no complaints from you! Have I had bad news?… You will find out about a hundred miles from here, if I judge the time to be right. Now go into town and find me a costume! What kind? One for a ball, numbskull, a marvelous, perfectly unique costume, the kind that will turn everyone’s head when I step into the ballroom, but under which no one will recognize me…. What’s that? All the costumes in Bolzano have been sold for tonight? Idiot! The kind of mask and costume I am looking for is not the traditional carnival outfit, not Pierrot or Harlequin, not Prince of Persia with Vizier, not Head Cook and Scullery Boy, not Oriental Knight, not Pasha in Turban with Scimitar, not Court Fool in pretend rags, with cap-and-bells and mock scepter. That stuff is old hat: it is boring and conventional. No, Balbi, let’s find something new and original for tonight. What if I dressed simply as a knight appropriate to my name and rank, a chevalier of France fresh from the court of King Louis…? No, perhaps not. Hush, don’t disturb me when I’m thinking. Wait! What if I went as an author, a scholar, a philosopher, with black-rimmed pince-nez perched on my nose, a mortarboard on my head, wearing a white collar and a black cloak? Not such a bad idea, an author… it takes one author to know another. What do you think? Are there other writers in Bolzano? Think about it carefully, Balbi. The brotherhood of authors is a secret society, with invisible insignia: you, being uncultured, think that Monsieur Vendôme or Madame Montespan might have precedence over authors in an audience with the king, but it’s not like that. Messieurs La Fontaine and Corneille and even Bossuet are at the front of the line, though Corneille is a little unkempt… you, of course, understand nothing of this, how could you? No, the author costume is wrong. We must find something else. What if I went as a hunter, with horn, dagger and bow, Nimrod at the Chase, Nimrod and Diana in the Primeval Forest? No, the symbolism is too transparent. Have you no ideas of your own? Don’t the kitchen maids like you to entertain them with your wit and garlic breath?… That’s it, Balbi! I have it! Kitchen maids! It’s perfect! Quick, call for little Teresa! And let them bring a skirt, a blouse, white stockings, a beauty spot, some Viennese cloth for a shawl, a bonnet, and a white silk mask… what are you staring at?… yes, tonight I shall dress as a woman! Take that stupid grin off your face! It’s the perfect disguise. I shall want a fan and something to stuff my bodice with, Neapolitan fashion: feathers from a pillow will do. Now hurry! Wake the servants! And let’s get this room tidy, open some windows, build up the fire, let’s have some sweet dessert wine on the table, a little cold chicken, some dressed salad, and ham and cheese, too, with white bread, silverware, and porcelain, the best of everything. Innkeeper!… Where are you hiding, you old pimp, you murderer of tourists and traveling salesmen?… Come here and do as I say! I want that fire blazing in the grate, fresh sheets on the bed, the best and finest pillowslips, a counterpane with your best lace cover, some ambergris sprinkled on the embers, two armchairs placed by the fire, a small ebony table with flowers over there, I don’t care what it costs, do you hear, red roses, yes, now, in November, in the snow! Where from? That’s up to you. From the duke’s greenhouse, for all I care, but now, tonight! The chicken should be accompanied by pickled eggs. I want the ham and cheese on a glass tray in one piece…. Wait! The bread should be toasted in thin slices, and the butter should be served on freshly fallen snow! Now let’s get busy. The coachman should begin to warm the coach with hot water bottles, let the horses be given some fodder, have him polish the brasses until they glitter, and let everyone stand by at dawn, in a heated kitchen, with some hot and cold food for the journey and a cask of wine, the best of everything! During the night, though, the place should be as silent as the grave, the grave where you yourselves will be resting, I assure you, if you do not carry out my orders immediately and to the letter! No, my friend, you don’t yet know me: I am terrifying when in a temper! Please be aware that my connections and influence exceed the merely mortal… there’s no need for me to spell them out to you, since you yourself have seen the kind of people who have been waiting outside my door tonight and every night! You, you murderer of traveling salesmen, you shall have a hundred gold pieces if all is done as I demand: inform your staff that however overcast the sky of Bolzano may be at daybreak it will shower them with gold, providing everyone remains at his or her station through the night, on constant call! And let all this happen without any noise whatsoever, you understand, silently and invisibly! Are you still here?… Close the window now, that’s enough fresh air. Sprinkle some attar of roses on the bed and draw the curtains round it. Have the flowers arrived?… Where did you get them? You found them in the reception room of the lady from Bergamo?… Tomorrow we shall send her better ones, a finer-scented selection, a whole basketful of them, a hundred, no, ninety-nine as a mark of delicacy, don’t forget! Yes, you may spread the table and bring the food! The wine…. Show me, let’s have a sniff! I am not going to taste it but you will answer with your head if I can smell the slightest trace of cask on it! I won’t taste it now because I have just rinsed my mouth…. Giuseppe, good, I am glad you have arrived, throw the towel over my shoulders: I want some blush on my cheeks, yes, both cheeks, a little something for the lips, a beauty patch just under my right cheekbone, some rice powder on my wig, and now we shall tie it up in the little bonnet we have borrowed from Teresa. Is it past midnight?… Now you can go. Be off with you all. I don’t want to see any of you till dawn. Not you, Teresa, my little one, you stay with me. Tie the skirt around my waist, adjust the garter on my knees, lend me the silk shawl I bought you yesterday, and arrange it across my shoulders…. That’s right, thank you. Am I sitting properly with my legs crossed, the way a woman sits, fan in hand, when she is being attended by a gentleman?… I find I am not at all sure of the way women move. Is this how you hold a fan?… Thank you, my dear. Do you find me pretty like this?… My nose is too big? The mask will cover it, Teresa. Now come here, little one, sit on my knees, and don’t worry if you crease the folds of your skirt. I’ll buy you a finer one in Munich, a velvet and silk outfit, as many outfits, of whatever kind you want… are you surprised? But that was the idea, right from the start. You don’t want to fade and droop here, my little snowdrop, in the bar, in the arms of drunken travelers. Tomorrow, at dawn, I shall take you with me. We shall take Balbi, too, but we will take care to lose him on the way. It is no more than he deserves. Yes, we are going to Munich at dawn, as soon as day breaks. Why are you crying? Give me a kiss, as you have so often done before, with closed eyes, open mouth, nice and easy. Why are you trembling like that? Hush, child, prepare for the journey, for your new life which will be wonderfuclass="underline" there’ll be gold, a fine apartment, you shall have your own pony and trap in Munich, and a servant to pull off your shoes and stockings and help you into your silk nightdress. Don’t you want that?… Are you sure? Are you shaking your head? Have you nothing to say? You want to stay here? You want me to leave you here?… Still quiet? I am leaving in the morning, child. Tonight I shall celebrate, in a costume, as is right and proper, but once light breaks we will take to the road, and you will be my companion and chambermaid, but later you will be a lady, too, at least for a while…. Are you smiling yet? Go to your room, pray, sleep, and prepare for the journey. Wait for me at dawn at the edge of town, where the road branches north and west, by the stone cross. You can trust me… you know very well you can trust me. But there is something in your smile that I have seen only once before, in Verona, I think, something unself-conscious and decadent, something gentle yet dangerous at the same time…. I will explain that later. Scrub your hands. Wash your hair tonight, apply camomile tea to your hair and your face, then spread this cream over it… wait, you shall have a rose as a memento of this night. Now go and think over what I have said…. Go, because I myself have to go. Sweet dreams, my child. Tomorrow you will wake to a new life by the stone cross, in the carriage, in my arms, under the protection of my cloak….