Shortly  afterwards,  in  order  to  clear  up  the  affairs  of  my
inheritance,  I  presented  myself  before  Sir  John  Macartney,
the  Enghsh  Minister,   at  his  weekly  levee  in  the  Palazzo

C .      A  bluff,  soldierly  man,  of  Irish  birth  and  English

opinions,  he  received  me  with  particular  civility,  in  which
curiosity  may  perhaps  have  played  its  part.  He  deplored
my  loss  of  an  excellent  father,  rejoiced  in  my  gain  of  an
excellent  estate,  hoped  I  should  return  to  England,  cry  for
King  George,  hunt  the  country,  and  keep  a  good  head  of
game.  He  alluded,  as  delicately  as  he  could,  to  rehgious
differences.  "I  know  very  well  that  you're  no  turncoat,
Mr.  Strelley,"  he  said;  "no,  dammy,  your  house  is  inveterate
for  the  Pope.  But  your  father  was  never  a  Stuart's  man,
and  I  hope  you'll  follow  him  there.  You'll  stand  apart  —
'tis  only  natural  —  but,  curse  me,  let  us  have  no  Jesuit  rogues
in  our  women's  quarters  —  hey  ?  No,  no  —  you  must
uphold  the  Protestant  succession,  Mr.  Strelley,  like  your
father  before  you."

My  reply,  I  fancy,  somewhat  sobered  the  heart  of  Sir
John.  I  said  that  I  preferred  the  Republican  form  of  govern-
ment as  I  had  seen  it  in  Venice  and  Lucca,  and  that  I  should
certainly  have  nothing  to  question  in  the  authority  of  King


I  RETURN  TO   FLORENCE  317

George,  seeing  that  that  authority  had  been  conferred  upon
him  by  Parliament.  I  added  that  my  plans  were  very  uncer-
tain, and  did  not  at  present  include  hunting  the  county  of
Oxford.  "I  have  done  much  hunting  since  I  have  been
in  Italy,"  I  said  ruefully.     "I  have  been  as  often  quarry  as

huntsman.     At  present  I  am  hunting  for  my ."     But

there  I  stopped.  Wife  I  could  not  say  —  mistress  I  would
not.
