Free The Leopard by Giuseppe Di Lampedusa

just got back from school in Florence and goes around town in a crinoline and with velvet ribbons hanging from her hat."
    The Prince was silenti the daughter, yes, that must be the Angelica who would be coming to dinner tonight; he was curious to see this dressed-up shepherdess; it was not true that nothing had changed: Don Calogero was as rich as he was! But deep down he had foreseen such things; they were the price to be paid.
    Don Onofrio was disturbed by his master's silence, and imagined he had put the Prince out by telling him petty local gossip.
    "Excellency, I ordered a bath to be prepared for you, it should be ready by now." Don Fabrizio sud denly realized that he was tired; it was almost three O'clock, and he had been up and about for nine hours under that torrid sun, and after that ghastly night. He felt his body covered in dust to the remotest creases. "Thank you, Don Onofrio, for thinking of it; and for everything else. We shall meet tonight at dinner."
    He went up the inner staircase; passed through the Tapestry Hall, through the Blue Salon, the Yellow Salon; lowered blinds filtered the light; in his study the Boulle clock ticked away discreetly. "What peace, my God, what peace! " He entered the bathroom: small, whitewashed, with a rough tiled floor and a hole in the middle to let the water out. The bath itself was a kind of oval trough, vast, of enamelled iron, yellow outside and gray in, propped on four heavy wooden feet. Hanging on a nail was a dressing gown; fresh linen was laid out on a rush chair; it still showed creases from the packing. Beside the bath lay a big piece of pink soap, a brush, a knotted handkerchief containing salts which would emit a sweet scent when soaked, and a huge sponge, one sent by the Salina agent. Through the unshaded window beat the savage sun.
    He clapped his hands; two lackeys entered, each carrying a pair of palls filled to the brim, one with cold, the other with boiling water; they went to and fro a number of times; the trough filled up; he tried the temperature with a hand; it was all right. He ordered the servants out, undressed, got in. Under his huge bulk the water brimmed over a little. He soaped himself, rubbed himself; the warmth did him good, relaxed him. He was almost dozing off when he heard a knock at the door; Mimi, his valet, entered timidly. "Father Pirrone is asking to see Your Excellency at once. He is waiting outside for Your Excellency to leave the bathroom." The Prince was surprised; if there'd been some accident he had better know at once. "No, no, let him come in now." Don Fabrizio was alarmed by this haste of Father Pirrone; and partly from this and partly from respect for the priestly habit, he hurried to leave the bath, expecting to get into his dressing gown before the Jesuit entered, but he did not succeed; and Father Pirrone came in at the very moment when, no longer veiled by soapy water, he was emerging quite naked, like the Farnese Hercules, and steaming as well, while the water flowed in streams from neck, arms, stomach, and legs like the Rhone, the Rhine, the Danube, and the Adige crossing and watering Alpine ranges. The sight of the Prince in a state of nature was quite new to Father Pirrone; the sacrament of penance had accustomed him to naked souls, but he was far less used to naked bodies; and he, who would not have blinked an eyelid at hearing the confession, say, of an incestuous intrigue, found himself flustered by this innocent but vast expanse of naked flesh. He stuttered an excuse and made to back out; but Don Fabrizio, annoyed at not having had time to cover himself, naturally turned his irritation against the priest: "Now, Father, don't be silly; hand me that towel, will you, and help me to dry, if you don't mind." Then suddenly he remembered a discussion they had once had and went on: "And take my advice, Father, have a bath yourself." Satisfied at being able to give advice on hygiene to one who so often gave it to him on morals, he