WHEN FRANZ recovered his senses, he saw Albert drinking a glass of water, of which, to judge from his pallor, he stood in great need; and the count, who was assuming his masquerade costume. He glanced mechanically towards the square--the scene was wholly changed; scaffold, executioners, victims, all had disappeared; only the people remained, full of noise and excitement. The bell of Monte Citorio, which only sounds on the pope's decease and the opening of the Carnival, was ringing a joyous peal. "Well," asked he of the count, "what has, then, happened?"

"Nothing," replied the count; "only, as you see, the Carnival his commenced. Make haste and dress yourself."

"In fact," said Franz, "this horrible scene has passed away like a dream."

"It is but a dream, a nightmare, that has disturbed you."

"Yes, that I have suffered; but the culprit?"

"That is a dream also; only he has remained asleep, while you have awakened; and who knows which of you is the most fortunate?"

"But Peppino--what has become of him?"

"Peppino is a lad of sense, who, unlike most men, who are happy in proportion as they are noticed, was delighted to see that the general attention was directed towards his companion. He profited by this distraction to slip away among the crowd, without even thanking the worthy priests who accompanied him. Decidedly man is an ungrateful and egotistical animal. But dress yourself; see, M. de Morcerf sets you the example." Albert was drawing on the satin pantaloon over his black trousers and varnished boots. "Well, Albert," said Franz, "do you feel much inclined to join the revels? Come, answer frankly."

"Ma foi! no," returned Albert. "But I am really glad to have seen such a sight; and I understand what the count said--that when you have once habituated yourself to a similar spectacle, it is the only one that causes you any emotion."

"Without reflecting that this is the only moment in which you can study character," said the count; "on the steps of the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn through life, and the real visage is disclosed. It must be allowed that Andrea was not very handsome, the hideous scoundrel! Come, dress yourselves, gentlemen, dress yourselves." Franz felt it would be ridiculous not to follow his two companions' example. He assumed his costume, and fastened on the mask that scarcely equalled the pallor of his own face. Their toilet finished, they descended; the carriage awaited them at the door, filled with sweetmeats and bouquets. They fell into the line of carriages. It is difficult to form an idea of the perfect change that had taken place. Instead of the spectacle of gloomy and silent death, the Piazza del Popolo presented a spectacle of gay and noisy mirth and revelry. A crowd of masks flowed in from all sides, emerging from the doors, descending from the windows. From every street and every corner drove carriages filled with clowns, harlequins, dominoes, mummers, pantomimists, Transteverins, knights, and peasants, screaming, fighting, gesticulating, throwing eggs filled with flour, confetti, nosegays, attacking, with their sarcasms and their missiles, friends and foes, companions and strangers, indiscriminately, and no one took offence, or did anything but laugh. Franz and Albert were like men who, to drive away a violent sorrow, have recourse to wine, and who, as they drink and become intoxicated, feel a thick veil drawn between the past and the present. They saw, or rather continued to see, the image of what they had witnessed; but little by little the general vertigo seized them, and they felt themselves obliged to take part in the noise and confusion. A handful of confetti that came from a neighboring carriage, and which, while it covered Morcerf and his two companions with dust, pricked his neck and that portion of his face uncovered by his mask like a hundred pins, incited him to join in the general combat, in which all the masks around him were engaged. He rose in his turn, and seizing handfuls of confetti and sweetmeats, with which the carriage was filled, cast them with all the force and skill he was master of.

The strife had fairly begun, and the recollection of what they had seen half an hour before was gradually effaced from the young men's minds, so much were they occupied by the gay and glittering procession they now beheld. As for the Count of Monte Cristo, he had never for an instant shown any appearance of having been moved. Imagine the large and splendid Corso, bordered from one end to the other with lofty palaces, with their balconies hung with carpets, and their windows with flags. At these balconies are three hundred thousand spectators--Romans, Italians, strangers from all parts of the world, the united aristocracy of birth, wealth, and genius. Lovely women, yielding to the influence of the scene, bend over their balconies, or lean from their windows, and shower down confetti, which are returned by bouquets; the air seems darkened with the falling confetti and flying flowers. In the streets the lively crowd is dressed in the most fantastic costumes--gigantic cabbages walk gravely about, buffaloes' heads below from men's shoulders, dogs walk on their hind legs; in the midst of all this a mask is lifted, and, as in Callot's Temptation of St. Anthony, a lovely face is exhibited, which we would fain follow, but from which we are separated by troops of fiends. This will give a faint idea of the Carnival at Rome. At the second turn the Count stopped the carriage, and requested permission to withdraw, leaving the vehicle at their disposal. Franz looked up--they were opposite the Rospoli Palace. At the centre window, the one hung with white damask with a red cross, was a blue domino, beneath which Franz's imagination easily pictured the beautiful Greek of the Argentina. "Gentlemen," said the count, springing out, "when you are tired of being actors, and wish to become spectators of this scene, you know you have places at my windows. In the meantime, dispose of my coachman, my carriage, and my servants." We have forgotten to mention, that the count's coachman was attired in a bear-skin, exactly resembling Odry's in The Bear and the Pasha; and the two footmen behind were dressed up as green monkeys, with spring masks, with which they made grimaces at every one who passed. Franz thanked the count for his attention. As for Albert, he was busily occupied throwing bouquets at a carriage full of Roman peasants that was passing near him. Unfortunately for him, the line of carriages moved on again, and while he descended the Piazza del Popolo, the other ascended towards the Palazzo di Venezia.

"Ah, my dear fellow," said he to Franz; "you did not see?"

"What?"

"There,--that calash filled with Roman peasants."

"No."

"Well, I am convinced they are all charming women."

"How unfortunate that you were masked, Albert," said Franz; "here was an opportunity of making up for past disappointments."

"Oh," replied he, half laughing, half serious; "I hope the Carnival will not pass without some amends in one shape or the other."

But, in spite of Albert's hope, the day passed unmarked by any incident, excepting two or three encounters with the carriage full of Roman peasants. At one of these encounters, accidentally or purposely, Albert's mask fell off. He instantly rose and cast the remainder of the bouquets into the carriage. Doubtless one of the charming females Albert had detected beneath their coquettish disguise was touched by his gallantry; for, as the carriage of the two friends passed her, she threw a bunch of violets. Albert seized it, and as Franz had no reason to suppose it was meant for him, he suffered Albert to retain it. Albert placed it in his button-hole, and the carriage went triumphantly on.

"Well," said Franz to him; "there is the beginning of an adventure."

"Laugh if you please--I really think so. So I will not abandon this bouquet."

"Pardieu!" returned Franz, laughing, "in token of your ingratitude." The jest, however, soon appeared to become earnest; for when Albert and Franz again encountered the carriage with the contadini, the one who had thrown the violets to Albert, clapped her hands when she beheld them in his button-hole. "Bravo, bravo," said Franz; "things go wonderfully. Shall I leave you? Perhaps you would prefer being alone?"

"No," replied he; "I will not be caught like a fool at a first disclosure by a rendezvous under the clock, as they say at the opera-balls. If the fair peasant wishes to carry matters any further, we shall find her, or rather, she will find us to-morrow; then she will give me some sign or other, and I shall know what I have to do."

"On my word," said Franz, "you are wise as Nestor and prudent as Ulysses, and your fair Circe must be very skilful or very powerful if she succeed in changing you into a beast of any kind." Albert was right; the fair unknown had resolved, doubtless, to carry the intrigue no farther; for although the young men made several more turns, they did not again see the calash, which had turned up one of the neighboring streets. Then they returned to the Rospoli Palace; but the count and the blue domino had also disappeared; the two windows, hung with yellow damask, were still occupied by the persons whom the count had invited. At this moment the same bell that had proclaimed the beginning of the mascherata sounded the retreat. The file on the Corso broke the line, and in a second all the carriages had disappeared. Franz and Albert were opposite the Via delle Maratte; the coachman, without saying a word, drove up it, passed along the Piazza di Spagni and the Rospoli Palace and stopped at the door of the hotel. Signor Pastrini came to the door to receive his guests. Franz hastened to inquire after the count, and to express regret that he had not returned in sufficient time; but Pastrini reassured him by saying that the Count of Monte Cristo had ordered a second carriage for himself, and that it had gone at four o'clock to fetch him from the Rospoli Palace. The count had, moreover, charged him to offer the two friends the key of his box at the Argentina. Franz questioned Albert as to his intentions; but Albert had great projects to put into execution before going to the theatre; and instead of making any answer, he inquired if Signor Pastrini could procure him a tailor. "A tailor," said the host; "and for what?"

"To make us between now and to-morrow two Roman peasant costumes," returned Albert. The host shook his head. "To make you two costumes between now and to-morrow? I ask your excellencies' pardon, but this is quite a French demand; for the next week you will not find a single tailor who would consent to sew six buttons on a waistcoat if you paid him a crown a piece for each button."

"Then I must give up the idea?"

"No; we have them ready-made. Leave all to me; and to-morrow, when you awake, you shall find a collection of costumes with which you will be satisfied."

"My dear Albert," said Franz, "leave all to our host; he has already proved himself full of resources; let us dine quietly, and afterwards go and see The Algerian Captive."

"Agreed," returned Albert; "but remember, Signor Pastrini, that both my friend and myself attach the greatest importance to having to-morrow the costumes we have asked for." The host again assured them they might rely on him, and that their wishes should be attended to; upon which Franz and Albert mounted to their apartments, and proceeded to disencumber themselves of their costumes. Albert, as he took off his dress, carefully preserved the bunch of violets; it was his token reserved for the morrow. The two friends sat down to table; but they could not refrain from remarking the difference between the Count of Monte Cristo's table and that of Signor Pastrini. Truth compelled Franz, in spite of the dislike he seemed to have taken to the count, to confess that the advantage was not on Pastrini's side. During dessert, the servant inquired at what time they wished for the carriage. Albert and Franz looked at each other, fearing really to abuse the count's kindness. The servant understood them. "His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo had," he said, "given positive orders that the carriage was to remain at their lordships' orders all day, and they could therefore dispose of it without fear of indiscretion."

They resolved to profit by the count's courtesy, and ordered the horses to be harnessed, while they substituted evening dress for that which they had on, and which was somewhat the worse for the numerous combats they had sustained. This precaution taken, they went to the theatre, and installed themselves in the count's box. During the first act, the Countess G----entered. Her first look was at the box where she had seen the count the previous evening, so that she perceived Franz and Albert in the place of the very person concerning whom she had expressed so strange an opinion to Franz. Her opera-glass was so fixedly directed towards them, that Franz saw it would be cruel not to satisfy her curiosity; and, availing himself of one of the privileges of the spectators of the Italian theatres, who use their boxes to hold receptions, the two friends went to pay their respects to the countess. Scarcely had they entered, when she motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor. Albert, in his turn, sat behind.

"Well," said she, hardly giving Franz time to sit down, "it seems you have nothing better to do than to make the acquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven, and you are already the best friends in the world."

"Without being so far advanced as that, my dear countess," returned Franz, "I cannot deny that we have abused his good nature all day."

"All day?"

"Yes; this morning we breakfasted with him; we rode in his carriage all day, and now we have taken possession of his box."

"You know him, then?"

"Yes, and no."

"How so?"

"It is a long story."

'Tell it to me."

"It would frighten you too much."

"So much the more reason."

"At least wait until the story has a conclusion."

"Very well; I prefer complete histories; but tell me how you made his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?"

"No; it was he who introduced himself to us."

"When?"

"Last night, after we left you."

"Through what medium?"

"The very prosaic one of our landlord."

"He is staying, then, at the H?tel de Londres with you?"

"Not only in the same hotel, but on the same floor."

"What is his name--for, of course, you know?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo."

"That is not a family name?"

"No, it is the name of the island he has purchased."

"And he is a count?"

"A Tuscan count."

"Well, we must put up with that," said the countess, who was herself from one of the oldest Venetian families. "What sort of a man is he?"

"Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf."

"You hear, M. de Morcerf, I am referred to you," said the countess.

"We should be very hard to please, madam," returned Albert, "did we not think him delightful. A friend of ten years' standing could not have done more for us, or with a more perfect courtesy."

"Come," observed the countess, smiling, "I see my vampire is only some millionaire, who has taken the appearance of Lara in order to avoid being confounded with M. de Rothschild; and you have seen her?"

"Her?"

"The beautiful Greek of yesterday."

"No; we heard, I think, the sound of her guzla, but she remained perfectly invisible."

"When you say invisible," interrupted Albert, "it is only to keep up the mystery; for whom do you take the blue domino at the window with the white curtains?"

"Where was this window with white hangings?" asked the countess.

"At the Rospoli Palace."

"The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?"

"Yes. Did you pass through the Corso?"

"Yes."

"Well, did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask, and one with white damask with a red cross? Those were the count's windows?"

"Why, he must be a nabob. Do you know what those three windows were worth?"

"Two or three hundred Roman crowns?"

"Two or three thousand."

"The deuce."

"Does his island produce him such a revenue?"

"It does not bring him a baiocco."

"Then why did he purchase it?"

"For a whim."

"He is an original, then?"

"In reality," observed Albert, "he seemed to me somewhat eccentric; were he at Paris, and a frequenter of the theatres, I should say he was a poor devil literally mad. This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier or Anthony." At this moment a fresh visitor entered, and, according to custom, Franz gave up his seat to him. This circumstance had, moreover, the effect of changing the conversation; an hour afterwards the two friends returned to their hotel. Signor Pastrini had already set about procuring their disguises for the morrow; and he assured them that they would be perfectly satisfied. The next morning, at nine o'clock, he entered Franz's room, followed by a tailor, who had eight or ten Roman peasant costumes on his arm; they selected two exactly alike, and charged the tailor to sew on each of their hats about twenty yards of ribbon, and to procure them two of the long silk sashes of different colors with which the lower orders decorate themselves on fête-days. Albert was impatient to see how he looked in his new dress--a jacket and breeches of blue velvet, silk stockings with clocks, shoes with buckles, and a silk waistcoat. This picturesque attire set him off to great advantage; and when he had bound the scarf around his waist, and when his hat, placed coquettishly on one side, let fall on his shoulder a stream of ribbons, Franz was forced to confess that costume has much to do with the physical superiority we accord to certain nations. The Turks used to be so picturesque with their long and flowing robes, but are they not now hideous with their blue frocks buttoned up to the chin, and their red caps, which make them look like a bottle of wine with a red seal? Franz complimented Albert, who looked at himself in the glass with an unequivocal smile of satisfaction. They were thus engaged when the Count of Monte Cristo entered.

"Gentlemen," said he, "although a companion is agreeable, perfect freedom is sometimes still more agreeable. I come to say that to-day, and for the remainder of the Carnival, I leave the carriage entirely at your disposal. The host will tell you I have three or four more, so that you will not inconvenience me in any way. Make use of it, I pray you, for your pleasure or your business."

The young men wished to decline, but they could find no good reason for refusing an offer which was so agreeable to them. The Count of Monte Cristo remained a quarter of an hour with them, conversing on all subjects with the greatest ease. He was, as we have already said, perfectly well acquainted with the literature of all countries. A glance at the walls of his salon proved to Franz and Albert that he was a connoisseur of pictures. A few words he let fall showed them that he was no stranger to the sciences, and he seemed much occupied with chemistry. The two friends did not venture to return the count the breakfast he had given them; it would have been too absurd to offer him in exchange for his excellent table the very inferior one of Signor Pastrini. They told him so frankly, and he received their excuses with the air of a man who appreciated their delicacy. Albert was charmed with the count's manners, and he was only prevented from recognizing him for a perfect gentleman by reason of his varied knowledge. The permission to do what he liked with the carriage pleased him above all, for the fair peasants had appeared in a most elegant carriage the preceding evening, and Albert was not sorry to be upon an equal footing with them. At half-past one they descended, the coachman and footman had put on their livery over their disguises, which gave them a more ridiculous appearance than ever, and which gained them the applause of Franz and Albert. Albert had fastened the faded bunch of violets to his button-hole. At the first sound of the bell they hastened into the Corso by the Via Vittoria.

At the second turn, a bunch of fresh violets, thrown from a carriage filled with harlequins, indicated to Albert that, like himself and his friend, the peasants had changed their costume, also; and whether it was the result of chance, or whether a similar feeling had possessed them both, while he had changed his costume they had assumed his.

Albert placed the fresh bouquet in his button-hole, but he kept the faded one in his hand; and when he again met the calash, he raised it to his lips, an action which seemed greatly to amuse not only the fair lady who had thrown it, but her joyous companions also. The day was as gay as the preceding one, perhaps even more animated and noisy; the count appeared for an instant at his window. but when they again passed he had disappeared. It is almost needless to say that the flirtation between Albert and the fair peasant continued all day. In the evening, on his return, Franz found a letter from the embassy, informing him that he would have the honor of being received by his holiness the next day. At each previous visit he had made to Rome, he had solicited and obtained the same favor; and incited as much by a religious feeling as by gratitude, he was unwilling to quit the capital of the Christian world without laying his respectful homage at the feet of one of St. Peter's successors who has set the rare example of all the virtues. He did not then think of the Carnival, for in spite of his condescension and touching kindness, one cannot incline one's self without awe before the venerable and noble old man called Gregory XVI. On his return from the Vatican, Franz carefully avoided the Corso; he brought away with him a treasure of pious thoughts, to which the mad gayety of the maskers would have been profanation.

At ten minutes past five Albert entered overjoyed. The harlequin had reassumed her peasant's costume, and as she passed she raised her mask. She was charming.

Franz congratulated Albert, who received his congratulations with the air of a man conscious that they are merited. He had recognized by certain unmistakable signs, that his fair incognita belonged to the aristocracy. He had made up his mind to write to her the next day. Franz remarked, while he gave these details, that Albert seemed to have something to ask of him, but that he was unwilling to ask it. He insisted upon it, declaring beforehand that he was willing to make any sacrifice the other wished. Albert let himself be pressed just as long as friendship required, and then avowed to Franz that he would do him a great favor by allowing him to occupy the carriage alone the next day. Albert attributed to Franz's absence the extreme kindness of the fair peasant in raising her mask. Franz was not sufficiently egotistical to stop Albert in the middle of an adventure that promised to prove so agreeable to his curiosity and so flattering to his vanity. He felt assured that the perfect indiscretion of his friend would duly inform him of all that happened; and as, during three years that he had travelled all over Italy, a similar piece of good fortune had never fallen to his share, Franz was by no means sorry to learn how to act on such an occasion. He therefore promised Albert that he would content himself the morrow with witnessing the Carnival from the windows of the Rospoli Palace.

The next morning he saw Albert pass and repass, holding an enormous bouquet, which he doubtless meant to make the bearer of his amorous epistle. This belief was changed into certainty when Franz saw the bouquet (conspicuous by a circle of white camellias) in the hand of a charming harlequin dressed in rose-colored satin. The evening was no longer joy, but delirium. Albert nothing doubted but that the fair unknown would reply in the same manner. Franz anticipated his wishes by saying that the noise fatigued him, and that he should pass the next day in writing and looking over his journal. Albert was not deceived, for the next evening Franz saw him enter triumphantly shaking a folded paper which he held by one corner. "Well," said he, "was I mistaken?"

"She has answered you!" cried Franz.

"Read." This word was pronounced in a manner impossible to describe. Franz took the letter, and read:

Tuesday evening, at seven o'clock, descend from your carriage opposite the Via dei Pontefici, and follow the Roman peasant who snatches your torch from you. When you arrive at the first step of the church of San Giacomo, be sure to fasten a knot of rose-colored ribbons to the shoulder of your harlequin costume, in order that you may be recognized. Until then you will not see me.

CONSTANCY AND DISCRETION.

"Well," asked he, when Franz had finished, "what do you think of that?"

"I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeable appearance."

"I think so, also," replied Albert; "and I very much fear you will go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's ball." Franz and Albert had received that morning an invitation from the celebrated Roman banker.

"Take care, Albert," said Franz. "All the nobility of Rome will be present, and if your fair incognita belong to the higher class of society, she must go there."

"Whether she goes there or not, my opinion is still the same," returned Albert. "You have read the letter?"

"Yes."

"You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito [1] are educated in Italy?"

"Yes."

"Well, read the letter again. Look at the writing, and find if you can, any blemish in the language or orthography." (The writing was, in reality, charming, and the orthography irreproachable.) "You are born to good fortune," said Franz, as he returned the letter.

"Laugh as much as you will," replied Albert, "I am in love."

"You alarm me," cried Franz. "I see that I shall not only go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's, but also return to Florence alone."

"If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful," said Albert, "I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks, at least. I adore Rome, and I have always had a great taste for archaeology."

"Come, two or three more such adventures, and I do not despair of seeing you a member of the Academy."

Doubtless Albert was about to discuss seriously his right to the academic chair when they were informed that dinner was ready. Albert's love had not taken away his appetite. He hastened with Franz to seat himself, free to recommence the discussion after dinner. After dinner, the Count of Monte Cristo was announced. They had not seen him for two days. Signor Pastrini informed them that business had called him to Civita Vecchia. He had started the previous evening, and had only returned an hour since. He was charming. Whether he kept a watch over himself, or whether by accident he did not sound the acrimonious chords that in other circumstances had been touched, he was to-night like everybody else. The man was an enigma to Franz. The count must feel sure that Franz recognized him; and yet he had not let fall a single word indicating any previous acquaintance between them. On his side, however great Franz's desire was to allude to their former interview, the fear of being disagreeable to the man who had loaded him and his friend with kindness prevented him from mentioning it. The count had learned that the two friends had sent to secure a box at the Argentina Theatre, and were told they were all let. In consequence, he brought them the key of his own--at least such was the apparent motive of his visit. Franz and Albert made some difficulty, alleging their fear of depriving him of it; but the count replied that, as he was going to the Palli Theatre, the box at the Argentina Theatre would he lost if they did not profit by it. This assurance determined the two friends to accept it.

Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count's pallor, which had so forcibly struck him at their first meeting. He could not refrain from admiring the severe beauty of his features, the only defect, or rather the principal quality of which was the pallor. Truly, a Byronic hero! Franz could not, we will not say see him, but even think of him without imagining his stern head upon Manfred's shoulders, or beneath Lara's helmet. His forehead was marked with the line that indicates the constant presence of bitter thoughts; he had the fiery eyes that seem to penetrate to the very soul, and the haughty and disdainful upper lip that gives to the words it utters a peculiar character that impresses them on the minds of those to whom they are addressed. The count was no longer young. He was at least forty; and yet it was easy to understand that he was formed to rule the young men with whom he associated at present. And, to complete his resemblance with the fantastic heroes of the English poet, the count seemed to have the power of fascination. Albert was constantly expatiating on their good fortune in meeting such a man. Franz was less enthusiastic; but the count exercised over him also the ascendency a strong mind always acquires over a mind less domineering. He thought several times of the project the count had of visiting Paris; and he had no doubt but that, with his eccentric character, his characteristic face, and his colossal fortune, he would produce a great effect there. And yet he did not wish to be at Paris when the count was there.

The evening passed as evenings mostly pass at Italian theatres; that is, not in listening to the music, but in paying visits and conversing. The Countess G----wished to revive the subject of the count, but Franz announced he had something far newer to tell her, and, in spite of Albert's demonstrations of false modesty, he informed the countess of the great event which had preoccupied them for the last three days. As similar intrigues are not uncommon in Italy, if we may credit travellers, the countess did not manifest the least incredulity, but congratulated Albert on his success. They promised, upon separating, to meet at the Duke of Bracciano's ball, to which all Rome was invited. The heroine of the bouquet kept her word; she gave Albert no sign of her existence the morrow or the day after.

At length Tuesday came, the last and most tumultuous day of the Carnival. On Tuesday, the theatres open at ten o'clock in the morning, as Lent begins after eight at night. On Tuesday, all those who through want of money, time, or enthusiasm, have not been to see the Carnival before, mingle in the gayety, and contribute to the noise and excitement. From two o'clock till five Franz and Albert followed in the fête, exchanging handfuls of confetti with the other carriages and the pedestrians, who crowded amongst the horses' feet and the carriage wheels without a single accident, a single dispute, or a single fight. The fetes are veritable pleasure days to the Italians. The author of this history, who has resided five or six years in Italy, does not recollect to have ever seen a ceremony interrupted by one of those events so common in other countries. Albert was triumphant in his harlequin costume. A knot of rose-colored ribbons fell from his shoulder almost to the ground. In order that there might be no confusion, Franz wore his peasant's costume.

As the day advanced, the tumult became greater. There was not on the pavement, in the carriages, at the windows, a single tongue that was silent, a single arm that did not move. It was a human storm, made up of a thunder of cries, and a hail of sweetmeats, flowers, eggs, oranges, and nosegays. At three o'clock the sound of fireworks, let off on the Piazza del Popolo and the Piazza di Venezia (heard with difficulty amid the din and confusion) announced that the races were about to begin. The races, like the moccoli, are one of the episodes peculiar to the last days of the Carnival. At the sound of the fireworks the carriages instantly broke ranks, and retired by the adjacent streets. All these evolutions are executed with an inconceivable address and marvellous rapidity, without the police interfering in the matter. The pedestrians ranged themselves against the walls; then the trampling of horses and the clashing of steel were heard. A detachment of carbineers, fifteen abreast, galloped up the Corso in order to clear it for the barberi. When the detachment arrived at the Piazza di Venezia, a second volley of fireworks was discharged, to announce that the street was clear. Almost instantly, in the midst of a tremendous and general outcry, seven or eight horses, excited by the shouts of three hundred thousand spectators, passed by like lightning. Then the Castle of Saint Angelo fired three cannon to indicate that number three had won. Immediately, without any other signal, the carriages moved on, flowing on towards the Corso, down all the streets, like torrents pent up for a while, which again flow into the parent river; and the immense stream again continued its course between its two granite banks.

A new source of noise and movement was added to the crowd. The sellers of moccoletti entered on the scene. The moccoli, or moccoletti, are candles which vary in size from the pascal taper to the rushlight, and which give to each actor in the great final scene of the Carnival two very serious problems to grapple with,--first, how to keep his own moccoletto alight; and secondly, how to extinguish the moccoletti of others. The moccoletto is like life: man has found but one means of transmitting it, and that one comes from God. But he has discovered a thousand means of taking it away, and the devil has somewhat aided him. The moccoletto is kindled by approaching it to a light. But who can describe the thousand means of extinguishing the moccoletto?--the gigantic bellows, the monstrous extinguishers, the superhuman fans. Every one hastened to purchase moccoletti--Franz and Albert among the rest.

The night was rapidly approaching; and already, at the cry of "Moccoletti!" repeated by the shrill voices of a thousand vendors, two or three stars began to burn among the crowd. It was a signal. At the end of ten minutes fifty thousand lights glittered, descending from the Palazzo di Venezia to the Piazza del Popolo, and mounting from the Piazzo del Popolo to the Palazzo di Venezia. It seemed like the fête of jack-o'-lanterns. It is impossible to form any idea of it without having seen it. Suppose that all the stars had descended from the sky and mingled in a wild dance on the face of the earth; the whole accompanied by cries that were never heard in any other part of the world. The facchino follows the prince, the Transteverin the citizen, every one blowing, extinguishing, relighting. Had old ?olus appeared at this moment, he would have been proclaimed king of the moccoli, and Aquilo the heir-presumptive to the throne. This battle of folly and flame continued for two hours; the Corso was light as day; the features of the spectators on the third and fourth stories were visible. Every five minutes Albert took out his watch; at length it pointed to seven. The two friends were in the Via dei Pontefici. Albert sprang out, bearing his moccoletto in his hand. Two or three masks strove to knock his moccoletto out of his hand; but Albert, a first-rate pugilist, sent them rolling in the street, one after the other, and continued his course towards the church of San Giacomo. The steps were crowded with masks, who strove to snatch each other's torches. Franz followed Albert with his eyes, and saw him mount the first step. Instantly a mask, wearing the well-known costume of a peasant woman, snatched his moccoletto from him without his offering any resistance. Franz was too far off to hear what they said; but, without doubt, nothing hostile passed, for he saw Albert disappear arm-in-arm with the peasant girl. He watched them pass through the crowd for some time, but at length he lost sight of them in the Via Macello. Suddenly the bell that gives the signal for the end of the carnival sounded, and at the same instant all the moccoletti were extinguished as if by enchantment. It seemed as though one immense blast of the wind had extinguished every one. Franz found himself in utter darkness. No sound was audible save that of the carriages that were carrying the maskers home; nothing was visible save a few lights that burnt behind the windows. The Carnival was over.

当弗兰兹神志清醒过来的时候，他看见阿尔贝正拿着一只杯子在喝水，从阿尔贝那苍白的脸色看来，这杯水实在是他极其需要的，同时，他看见伯爵正在换上那套小丑的服装。他机械地向广场上望去。一切都不见了——断头台，刽子手，尸体，一切都不见了，剩下的只是人群，到处都是嘈杂而兴奋的人群。雪多里奥山上那口只在教皇逝世和狂欢节开始时才敲响的钟，正在嗡嗡地发出一片令人欢欣鼓舞的响声。“喂，”他问伯爵，“刚才还发生了什么事？”

“没什么，”伯爵回答，”只是，如您所见，狂欢节已经开始了。赶快换衣服吧。”

“的确，”弗兰兹说，“这一幕可怕的情景已象一场梦似的过去了。”

“是的，对我是如此，但对那犯人呢？”

“那也是一场梦。只是他仍睡着，而您却已醒来了，谁知道你们之中哪一个更幸福呢？”

“庇皮诺是个很乖巧的小伙子，他不象一般人那样，一般人得不到别人的注意就要大发脾气，而他却很高兴看到大众的注意力都集中在他的同伴身上。他就利用大家不注意他的时候混入人群里溜走了，甚至对那两个陪他来的可敬的教士谢都没谢一声。唉，人真是一种忘恩负义，自私自利的动物。您快换衣服吧。瞧，马尔塞夫先生已经给您作出了榜样。”

阿尔贝的确已把那条绸裤套在了他的黑裤和那擦得雪亮的长统皮靴上。“喂，阿尔贝，”弗兰兹说，“你真的很想去参加狂欢节吗？来吧，坦白地告诉我。”

“老实说，不！”阿尔贝答道。“但我真的很高兴能见识一下这里刚才的场面，我现在懂得伯爵阁下所说的话的含义了，当你一旦看惯了这种情景以后，你对于其他的一切就不容易动情了。”

“而且这是您可以研究个性的唯一时机，”伯爵说道。“在断头台的踏级上，死撕掉了人一生所戴的假面具，露出了真面目。老实说，安德烈的表现实在丑恶，这可恶的流氓！来，穿衣服吧，二位，穿衣服吧！”

弗兰兹觉得要是不学他两位同伴的样子，未免太荒唐了。

于是他穿上了衣服，绑上面具。那面具当然并不比他自己的脸更苍白。他们化装完毕以后，就走下楼去。马车已在门口等着他们了，车子里堆满了五颜六色的碎纸和花球。他们混入了马车的行列里。这个突变真是难以想象。在波波罗广场上，代替死的阴郁和沉寂的是一片兴高采烈和嘈杂的狂欢景象。四面八方，一群群戴着面具的人涌了过来，有从门里跑出来的，有离开窗口奔下来的。从每一条街道，每一个角落，都有马车拥过来。马车上坐满了白衣白裤白面具的小丑，身穿花衣手持木刀的滑稽角色，戴半边面具的男男女女，侯爵夫人，勒司斐人，骑士和农民。大家尖声喊叫着，打打闹闹，装腔作势，满天飞舞着装满了面粉的蛋壳，五颜六色的纸，花球，用他们的冷言冷语和种种可投掷的物品到处攻击人，也不分是敌是友，是同伴是陌生人，谁都不动气，大家都只是笑。

弗兰兹和阿尔贝象借酒消愁的人一样，在喝醉了之后，觉得有一重厚厚的纱幕隔开了过去和现在。可是他们却老是看到，或说得更确切些，他们仍然在心里想着刚才他们所目睹的那一幕。但渐渐地，那到处弥漫着的兴奋情绪也传染到了他们身上，他们觉得自己也不得不加入到那种嘈杂和混乱之中。附近的一辆马车里抛来了一把彩纸，把车上的三位同伴撒得满身都是，马尔塞夫的脖子上和面具未遮住的那部分脸上象是受了一百个小针刺戳似地给弄得怪痒痒的，于是他被卷进了周围正在进行的一场混战里。他站起身来，抓起几把装在马车里的彩纸使劲儿向他左边近处的人投去，以此表示他也是精于此道的老手。战斗顺利地展开了。半小时前所见的那一幕景象渐渐地在两个青年的脑子里消失了，他们现在所全神贯注的只有这兴高采烈，五彩缤纷的游行队伍。而基督山伯爵，却始终无动于衷。

试想那一条宽阔华丽的高碌街，从头到尾都耸立着巍巍的大厦，阳台上悬挂着花毯，窗口上飘扬着旗子，在这些阳台上和窗口里，有三十万看客——罗马人，意大利人，还有从世界各地来的外国人，都是出身高贵，又有钱，又聪明的三位一体的贵族，可爱的女人们也被这种场面感动得忘了彤，或倚着阳台，或靠着窗口，向经过的马车抛撒彩纸，马车里的人则以花球作回报。整个天空似乎都被落下来的彩纸和抛上去的花朵给遮住了。街上挤满了生气勃勃的人群，大家都穿着奇形怪状的服装——硕大无比的大头鬼大摇大摆地走着，牛头从人的肩膀后面伸过来嘶吼，狗被挤得直立起来用两条后腿趟路。

在这种种纷乱嘈杂之中，一只假面具向上揭了一下，象卡洛的《圣安东尼之诱惑》里所描绘的那样，露出了一个可爱的面孔，你本来很想钉梢上去的，但忽然一队魔鬼过来把你和她冲散了，上述的一切可以使你对于罗马的狂欢节有一个大概的了解。

转到第二圈时，伯爵停住了马车，向他的同伴告辞，留下马车给他们用。弗兰兹抬头一看，原来他们已到了罗斯波丽宫前面。在中间那个挂白缎窗帘上绣红十字的窗口里，坐着一个戴蓝色半边面具的人，这个人，弗兰兹很容易认出就是戏院里的那个希腊美人。

“二位，”伯爵跳到车子外面说道，“当你们在这场戏里厌倦了做演员而想做看客的时候，你们知道我的窗口里为你们留着位置的。现在，请只管用我的车夫，我的马车和我的仆人吧。”

我们该补充一下，伯爵的车夫是穿着一套熊皮的衣服，和《熊与巴乞》一剧里奥德莱所穿的那种服装一模一样，站在马车后面的两个跟班则打扮成两只绿毛猴子，脸上戴着活动面具，对每个经过的人做着鬼脸。

弗兰兹谢谢伯爵的关照。阿尔贝此时正忙着向一辆停在他附近，满载着罗马农民的马车上抛花球。不幸得很，马车的行列又走动了，他往波波罗广场去，而那一辆却向威尼斯宫去。“啊！我亲爱的！”他对弗兰兹说道，“你看见没有？”

“什么？”

“那儿，那辆满载着罗马农民的低轮马车。”

“没有。”

“嘿，我相信她们都是些漂亮的女人。”

“你多不幸呀，阿尔贝，偏偏戴着面具！”弗兰兹说道，“这本来倒是可以弥补你过去的失意的一个机会。”

“噢，”他半开玩笑半认真地回答，“我希望在狂欢节结束以前，能给我带来一点补偿。”

但不管阿尔贝的希望如何，当天并没发生任何意外的奇遇，只是那辆满载罗马农民的低轮马车，后来又遇到过两三次。有一次邂逅相逢的时候，不知阿尔贝是故意的还是无意的，他的面具掉了下来。他立刻站起来，把马车里剩下的花球都抛了过去。漂亮女人——这是阿尔贝从她们风骚的化装上推测出来的——中的一个无疑地被他的殷勤献媚所打动了。

因为，当那两个朋友的马车经过她的时候，她居然也抛了一束紫罗兰过来。阿尔贝急忙抓住了，而弗兰兹因为没有理由可以假定这是送给他自己的，所以也只能让阿尔贝占有了它。阿尔贝把花插在他的纽扣眼里，于是马车胜利地继续前进了。

“喂，”弗兰兹向他说道，“这是一次奇遇的开始呀。”

“随你去笑吧，我倒真是这样想。所以我决不肯放弃这束花球。”

“当然啦！”弗兰兹大笑着答道，“我相信你，这是定情之物呢。”

但是，这种玩笑不久似乎变成真的了，因为当阿尔贝和弗兰兹再遇到农妇们的那辆马车的时候，那个抛紫罗兰给阿尔贝的女人看到他已把花插在了纽扣眼里，就拍起手来。“妙！妙！”弗兰兹说，“事情来得真妙。要不要我离开你一下？也许你愿意一个人进行吧？”

“不，”他答道，“我可不愿意象傻瓜似的才送一个秋波就束手被擒。假如这位漂亮的农妇愿意有所发展，明天我们还可以找到她的，或说得更确切些，她会来找我们的，那时，她会对我有所表示，而我也就知道该怎么做了。”

“凭良心说，”弗兰兹说，“你真可谓聪明如涅斯托而慎重如尤利西斯了。你那位漂亮的塞茜要是想把你变成一只不论哪一种的走兽，她一定得非常机巧或非常神通广大才行。”

阿尔贝说得不错，那位无名情人无疑的已决定当天不再出什么新花样，那两个年轻人虽然又兜了几个圈子，他们却再也看不到那辆低轮马车了，大概它已转到附近别的街上去了。

于是他们回到了罗斯波丽宫，但伯爵和那个戴蓝色半边面具的人已不见了。那两个挂黄缎窗帘的窗口里还有人，他们大概是伯爵请来的客人。正在这时，那口宣布狂欢节开幕的钟发出了结束的讯号。弗兰兹和阿尔贝这时正在马拉特街的对面。车夫一言不发，驱车向那条街驰去，驰过爱斯巴广场和罗斯波丽宫，在旅馆门口停了下来。派里尼老板到门口来迎接他的客人。弗兰兹一开口就问伯爵，并表示很抱歉没能及时去接他回来，但派里尼的话使他放了心，他说基督山伯爵曾吩咐另外为他自己备了一辆马车，已在四点钟的时候把他从罗斯波丽宫接来了。伯爵并且还托他把爱根狄诺戏院的包厢钥匙交给这两位朋友。弗兰兹问阿尔贝接不接受他的好意，但阿尔贝在到戏院去以前，还有大计划要实行，所以他并没答复弗兰兹的话，却问派里尼老板能不能给他找一个裁缝。

“裁缝！”店东说，“找裁缝来干什么？”

“给我们做两套罗马农民穿的衣服，明天要用。”阿尔贝回答。

店东摇摇头。“马上给你们做两套衣服，明天要用？请两位大人原谅，这个要求法国气太重了，因为在这一个星期以内，即使你们要找一个裁缝在一件背心上钉六粒钮扣，每钉一粒纽扣给他一个艾居，他也不会干的。”

“那么我只能放弃这个念头了？”

“不，我们有现成做好的。一切交给我好了，明天早晨，当您醒来的时候，您就会找到一套样样齐备的服装，保证您满意。”

“我亲爱的阿尔贝，”弗兰兹说，“一切让我们的店家去办好了，他已经证明过他是满有办法的。我们放心吃饭吧，吃完以后去看意大利歌剧去。”

“同意，”阿尔贝回答说，“但要记住，派里尼老板，我的朋友和我明天早晨一定要用刚才所说的那种衣服，这是最最重要的。”

店主重新向他们保证，请他们只管放心，一定按他们的要求去办。于是，弗兰兹和阿尔贝上楼到了他们的房间里，开始脱衣服。阿尔贝把衣服脱下来的时候，小心翼翼地把那束紫罗兰保存了起来，这是他明天识别的标记。两位朋友在餐桌前坐了下来。阿尔贝禁不住谈论起基督山伯爵的餐桌和派里尼老板的餐桌之间的不同。弗兰兹虽然似乎并不喜欢伯爵，却也不得不承认优势并不在派里尼这一边。当他们吃最后一道点心的时候，仆人进来问他们希望在什么时候备车。阿尔贝和弗兰兹互相望着对方，深怕真的滥用了伯爵的好意。那仆人懂得他们的意思。“基督山伯爵大人已确确实实地吩咐过了，”他说，“马车今天整天听两位大人的吩咐，所以两位大人只管请用好了，不必怕失礼。”

他们决定尽情地享受伯爵的殷勤招待，于是就吩咐去把马套起来，在套马的期间，他们换了一套晚礼服，因为他们身上所穿的这套衣服，经过了无数次战斗，已多少有点不怎么好了。经过这一番小心打扮之后，他们就到了戏院里，坐在了伯爵的包厢里。第一幕上演的时候，Ｇ伯爵夫人走进了她的包厢。她首先就向昨天晚上伯爵呆的那个包厢看了看，因此她一眼便看到弗兰兹和阿尔贝坐在她曾对弗兰兹发表过怪论的那个人的包厢里。她的观剧望远镜就这样一动不动地对准着他们，弗兰兹觉得如果不去满足她的好奇心，那就未免太残酷了，于是他就利用意大利戏院里观众的特权，包括利用他们的包厢作接待室，带着他的朋友离开了他们自己的包厢去向伯爵夫人致意。他们刚一踏进包厢，她就示意请弗兰兹去坐那个荣誉座。这一次轮到阿尔贝坐在后面了。

“哎，”她简直不等弗兰兹坐下就问道，“您简直象没有别的好事可干了似的，光想去认识这位罗思文勋爵，阿唷，你们成了世界上最要好的朋友了吧。”

“还没到那种程度，伯爵夫人，”弗兰兹回答说，“但我不能否认我们已打扰了他一整天。”

“一整天？”

“是的，从今天早晨起，我们跟他一起用餐，后来我们整天坐他的马车，而现在又占据了他的包厢。”

“那么您以前认识他吗？”

“是的，但也可以说不是。”

“这话怎么讲？”

“说来话长。”

“讲给我听听。”

“恐怕要吓坏您的。”

“另外举个理由吧。”

“至少请等到这个故事告一段落了再说。”

“好极了。我爱听有头有尾的故事。但先告诉我你们怎么认识他的？是有人把你们介绍给他的吗？”

“不，是他把自己介绍给我们的。”

“什么时候？”

“昨天晚上，我们离开您以后。”

“谁做的中间人？”

“说来也十分平淡无味，是我们的旅馆老板。”

“那么，他和你们住在伦敦旅馆了？”

“不但同住在一家旅馆，而且同住在一层楼上。”

“他叫什么名字呢？你们当然知道罗。”

“基督山伯爵。”

“那是种什么名字呀？这可不是个族名。”

“不，这是一个岛的名字，那个岛是他买下来的。”

“而他是一位伯爵？”

“一位托斯卡纳的伯爵。”

“哦，那一点我们还是不谈了吧，”伯爵夫人说道，因为她本人就是威尼斯历史最悠久的一家贵族出身的。“他是怎么样的一种人呢？”

“去问马尔塞夫子爵吧。”

“您听着，马尔塞夫先生，我在听您指教呢。”伯爵夫人说。

“夫人，”阿尔贝答道，“要是我们再不觉得他的为人有趣，我们也实在太难讨好啦，一个交往十年的朋友也不会象他这样待我们更好的了，他态度高雅，应付巧妙，礼貌周到，显然是一位交际场的人物。”

“嘿，”伯爵夫人微笑着说道，“依我看那位僵尸只不过是一位百万富翁罢了。你们没有看见她吗？”

“她？”

“昨天那个希腊美人。”

“没有。我想，我们听到了她弹ｇｕｚｌａ琴声音，但人却没有看到。”

“你说没有看到，”阿尔贝插嘴说，“别故作神秘了吧。那个戴蓝色半边面具，坐在挂白窗帘窗口的人你当她是谁？”

“这个挂白窗帘的窗口在什么地方？？伯爵夫人问道。

“在罗斯波丽宫。”

“伯爵在罗斯波丽宫有三个窗口吗？”

“是的。您有没有经过高碌街？”

“经过了。”

“好了，您有没有注意到两个挂黄缎窗帘的窗口和一个挂白缎窗帘上绣红十字的窗口？那就是伯爵的窗口。”

“咦，他一定是一个印度王公啦！你们知道那三个窗口要值多少钱？”

“得两三百罗马艾居吧！”

“两三千欧！”

“见鬼！”

“他的岛上有这么大的出产吗？”

“那里是一个铜板都生不出来的。”

“那么他为什么要买下它呢？”

“只是为了一种狂想而已。”

“那么他真是一个奇人了？”

“的确，”阿尔贝说，“在我看来，他多少有点怪僻。假如他在巴黎，而且是戏院里的一个老观众，我就要说他是一个把世界当舞台的愤世嫉俗的丑角，或是一个读小说着了迷的书呆子。的确，他今天早晨所演的那两三手，真大有达第亚或安多尼的作风。”

这时，来了一位新客，弗兰兹就按照惯例，把他的位置让给了他。这一来，话题也转变了，一小时以后，两位朋友已回到了他们的旅馆里。派里尼老板已经在着手为他们弄明天化装的衣服，他向他们保证，一定会使他们十分满意的。

第二天早晨九点钟，店主走进弗兰兹的房间，后面跟着一个裁缝，裁缝的手臂上搭着八九套罗马农民的服装。他们挑选了两套一式一样合身的服装，然后叫裁缝在他们每人的帽子上缝上二十码左右的缎带，再给两绺下层阶级在节日时装饰用的各种颜色的长丝穗。阿尔贝急于想知道他穿上这套新装以后究竟风度如何。他穿的是蓝色天鹅绒的短褂和裤子，绣花的丝袜，搭扣的皮鞋和一件绸背心。这一漂亮的打扮简直使他帅劲十足。当他把风流花阔带围到腰上，戴上帽子，并把帽子很潇洒地歪在一边，使一绺丝带垂到肩头上的时候，弗兰兹不得不承认那种装束颇富于自然美。所谓自然美，是指某种民族特别适宜于穿某种服装而言，譬如说土耳其人，他们以前老爱穿飘飘然的长袍，那是很富于诗情画意的，而他们现在穿的是纽扣到下巴的蓝色制服，戴上红帽子，看上去活象一只红盖子的酒瓶，不是难看透了吗？弗兰兹向阿尔贝恭维了一番，阿尔贝自己也对着镜子照了照，脸上带着踌躇满志的微笑。他们正在这样打扮时，基督山伯爵进来了。

“二位，”他说，“有一个同伴虽然很令人高兴，但完全自由有时更让人高兴。我是来告诉你们，在今天和狂欢节其余的日子里，我那辆马车完全听你们支配。店主也许告诉你们了，我另外还有三四辆马车，所以你们不会使我自己没车子坐的。请随便用吧，用来去玩也好，用来去办正经事情也好。”

两个青年很想谢绝，但他们又找不到一个很好的理由来拒绝一个这样正合他们心愿的好意。基督山伯爵在他们的房间里呆了一刻钟光景，极其从容地谈论着各式各样的问题。我们已经说过，他对于各国的文学是很熟悉的。一看他客厅里的墙壁，弗兰兹和阿尔培就知道他是一个美术爱好者。而从他无意间吐露的几句话里，他们知道他对于科学也并不陌生，而对药物学似乎尤其感兴趣。两位朋友不敢回请伯爵吃早餐，因为，用派里尼老板非常蹩脚的饭菜来和他那上等酒筵交换，未免太荒唐了。他们就这样很坦白地告诉了他，他接受了他们的歉意，神色之间表示他很能体谅他们处境的为难。阿尔贝被伯爵风度给迷住了，要不是伯爵曾显露出对科学方面的知识，他真要把他看成是一个老牌绅士了。最使他们高兴的是他们可以随意支配那辆马车，因为昨天下午那些漂亮的农民所乘的是一辆非常雅致的马车，而阿尔贝对于要和他们并驾齐驱，并不感到遗憾。下午一点半时，他们下了楼，车夫和跟班在他们化装衣服上又套上了制服，这使他们看来更滑稽可笑，同时也为弗兰兹和阿尔贝博得不少喝采。阿尔贝已把那束萎谢了的紫罗兰插在了他的纽扣眼上。钟声一响，他们就急忙从维多利亚街驶入了高碌街。兜到第二圈，从一辆满载着女丑角的马车里抛来了一束新鲜的紫罗兰，阿尔贝马上明白了，象他和他的朋友一样，那些农民也换了装，而不知究竟是由于偶然的结果，还是由于双方有了一种心心相印的感觉，以致他换上了她们的服装，而她们却换上了他的。

阿尔贝把那束新鲜的花插在了他的纽扣眼里，但那束萎谢了的仍拿在手里。当他又遇到那辆低轮马车的时候，他有声有色的把花举到他的唇边，这一举动不但使那个抛花的美人大为高兴，而且她那些快乐的同伴们似乎也很欣喜若狂。这一天象前一天一样愉快，甚至更热闹更嘈杂些。他们有一次曾看到伯爵在他的窗口里，但当他们再经过的时候，他已经不见了。不用说，阿尔贝和那个农家美女之间的调情持续了一整天。傍晚回来的时候，弗兰兹发现有一封大使馆送来的信，通知他明天就可以光荣地得到教皇的接见。他以前每次到罗马来，总要恳求并获得这种恩典，在宗教情绪和感恩的鼓舞之下，他若到这位集各种美德于一身的圣·彼得的继承人脚下去表示一番敬意，就不愿离开这基督世界的首都。所以那天，他没多少心恩去想狂欢节了，因为格里高利十六虽然极其谦诚慈爱，但人一到了这位尊严高贵的老人面前，就会不自觉地产生一种敬畏之感。

从梵蒂冈回来的时候，弗兰兹故意避免从高碌街经过。他那满脑子虔诚的思想，碰上狂欢节这种疯狂的欢乐，是要被亵渎的。五点十分，阿尔贝回来了。他高兴极了。那些女丑角又换上了农家的服装，当她经过的时候，她曾抬起了她的面具。

她长得很漂亮。弗兰兹向阿尔贝表示祝贺，阿尔贝带着一种当之无愧的神气接受了他的贺喜。他已从某些蛛丝马迹上看出那个无名美人是贵族社会中的人。他决定明天就写信给她。弗兰兹注意到，阿尔贝在详详细细讲这件事的时候，他似乎想要求他做一件事，但他又不愿意讲出来。于是他自己便声明说，不论要求他作出什么牺牲，他都愿意。阿尔贝再三推托，一直推托到在朋友交情上已经说得过去的时候，他才向弗兰兹直说，要是明天肯让他独用那辆马车，那就可算帮了他一个大忙，阿尔贝认为那个美丽的农家女肯抬一抬她的面具，应当归功于弗兰兹的不在，弗兰兹当然不会自私到竟在一件奇遇的中途去妨碍阿尔贝，而且这次奇遇看来一定能够满足的好奇心和鼓起他的自信心。他确信他的这位心里藏不住事的朋友一定会把经过的一切都告诉他的，他自己虽然在意大利游历了两三年，却从来没机会亲自尝试一个这样的经历，弗兰兹也很想知道遇到这种场合应该怎样来对付。所以他答应阿尔贝，明天狂欢节的情形，他只能从罗斯波丽宫的窗口里看看就行了。

第二天早晨，他看现阿尔贝一次又一次经过。他捧着一个极大的花球，无疑把它当作了传递情书的使者。这种猜测不久便得到了确定，因为弗兰兹看到那个花球（有一圈白色的山茶花为记）已到了一个身穿玫瑰红绸衫的可爱的女丑角手里。所以当天傍晚阿尔贝得意洋洋地回来了，他不单是高兴，简直有点要热昏了头。他相信那位无名美人一定会以同样的方式答复他。弗兰兹已料到了他的心思，就告诉他说，这种吵闹使他有点厌倦了，明天想记账，并把以前的账查看一遍。

阿尔贝没有猜错，因为第二天傍晚，弗兰兹看到他手里拿着一张折拢的纸，兴高采烈地挥舞着走了进来。“喂，”他说，“我没猜错吧？”

“她答复你了！”弗兰兹喊道。

“你念吧！”她说这句话时的神气是无法描述的。弗兰兹接过信，念道：“星期二晚上七点钟，在蓬特飞西街下车，跟随那个夺掉您手中的‘长生烛’的罗马农民走。当您到达圣·甲珂摩教堂第一级台阶的时候，务必请在您那套小丑服装的肩头绑上一绺玫瑰色缎带，以便借此辨认。在此之前，暂不相见。望坚贞和谨慎。”

“怎么样？”弗兰兹一读完，阿尔贝就问道，“你觉得如何？”

“我也这么想，”阿尔贝答道，“恐怕勃拉西诺公爵的舞会你只能一个人去参加了。”

原来弗兰兹和阿尔贝在当天早晨曾接到了那位大名鼎鼎的罗马银行家送来的一张请帖。“小心哪，阿尔贝，”弗兰兹说道。“罗马的贵族全体都会到的。假如你那位无名美人是上流社会中的人，她也一定会到那儿去的。”

“不管她去不去，我的主意已定