less results, only once or twice it seemed to me. that the shutter shook a little, as if someone on the inside were trying to put it back in order to obtain a glimpse into the street. At the expiration of a quarter of an hour, my patience being exhausted, I lit a cigar and went my way, not, however, until I had carefully noted the location of the house of the padlock.
When I came to reflect upon this adventure the following morning I reached these conclusions: A young Roman lady, probably of surpassing beauty, had caught sight of me in my strolls about the city and fallen a victim to my poor charms. If she had selected no other means of declaring her flame than the gift of a mystic flower, the reason was that she had been restrained by her decorous modesty, or it may have been that she was prevented by the presence of some old duenna, or perhaps by an accursed guardian, like Rosina's Bartolo. I made up my mind that I would lay siege according to rule to the house inhabited by this infanta.
With this fine project in my head I brushed my hair so as to give myself a conquering aspect and started forth from my lodging. I had put on my new frock coat and a pair of yellow gloves. Thus attired, with my hat cocked over my ear and the faded rose in my button-hole, I turned my steps toward the street of which, as yet, I knew not the name, but which I had no difficulty in finding again. A signboard fastened up over the head of a Madonna informed me that it was called il viccolo di Madama Lucrezia.
The name took me aback. I immediately remembered the portrait by Leonardo da Vinci and the stories of presentiments and diabolical doings generally that
