The porter answered, “that the convent-gate was always shut at eight o’clock, and that it was now nine; that, notwithstanding such was the rule, he would go, from the consideration he naturally had for persons of quality, and inform the lady abbess of my situation, and obey her orders.” I was obliged to wait with patience at the gate for her answer. The porter at length returned and informed us that the abbess could not think of opening the gate at such an unseasonable hour to gentlemen entirely unknown to her. This refusal vexed me extremely. I dismounted from my mule, and advanced towards the wicket; and, speaking myself to the porter, entreated him to return to the abbess, and tell her, on my behalf, that if she knew the favour she would confer on me, in affording me a retreat for that night, she would cease to be inexorable. The porter told me, “it was to no purpose to persist in requesting what she would never permit.” Not being able to influence the porter in my favour by prayers, I offered a bribe, which he refused with disdain, and shut the wicket in my face. I feared there was now no chance of sleeping that night in the monastery, and, yielding to necessity, told my servants to lead the three mules back again to the peasant’s; that, for my own part, rather than be stived up in that wretched tavern, I felt desirous to pass away a few hours where I was, in listening to the murmuring of the Ebro. It was a lovely night. I strolled round the house, observing with an eye of curiosity whatever I could discern by the light of the stars, which shone extremely bright. I followed a sloping path which led me under a balcony that commanded a view of the river. I sat down at the foot of a tree opposite the balcony, which I considered attentively, supposing it to be my lady abbess’s apartment. I could perceive a light, and shortly after a confused noise of female voices struck my ear; then all of a sudden a profound silence ensued, which was interrupted in its turn by a Spanish song warbled by a very delicate voice. The singer seemed to please her company exceedingly, and she was much applauded. Another lady then sang an Italian air with which I was well acquainted, and was equally complimented. So immoderate a desire then possessed me to amuse the ladies with my melodious voice, that I could scarcely have the patience to hear this song out. I was half inclined to sing the same over again, for it was one of those for which I had been most applauded at the Grand Duke’s concert at Florence. However, I was prudent enough to spare the lady the mortification of the comparison; and having remembered another air which had particularly pleased the Grand Duchess, I chose that in its stead.