The Darcys arrived in Padua at an hour sufficiently early to afford them a short rest before supper. Georgiana appeared downstairs with her brother and Elizabeth, but seeing the dining room had but one large table, declared herself unequal to dining en famille with the other guests at the inn, owing to fatigue, and asked that a tray be brought up. Elizabeth was spared the burthen of making Georgiana’s excuses, as she really did look very tired and somewhat unwell. Elizabeth felt her sister’s absence more than usual, as the conversation around the dinner-table that evening was unusually interesting and pleasant. Everyone around the table had some story or anecdote to relate, but one in particular was sufficiently amusing that Elizabeth resolved to listen especially closely in order that she might relate it to Georgiana on the morrow:

“My family is now just come from Venice, where we received a most peculiar treatment from the keeper of a pensione in that city. Some years before, the Emperour and two of his brothers had lodged at the same inn as we were then presently. The inn-keeper was so vain of this instance, that no other subject could interest him. He entertained us with interminable particulars regarding these illustrious guests, it being an impossibility that he forget these trifles, so constantly had they been repeated. At length, it was necessary that I interrupt this succession of nothings to enquire what we could have for our supper. He answered that we should take our meal in the very same room in which His Imperial Majesty had dined. Wherefore, I repeated my question, to which he replied that he did not believe there to be three more affable princes in all of Christendom. I answered this by stating that I hoped supper would be soon upon the table, whereupon he told me with the utmost assurance, that the Archduke was fond of fricassee, but that the Emperour preferred a capon, plain-roasted. At this last, I was grown impatient, and said that my family and I would be much obliged if he would send in the supper as expeditiously as may be. The good man finally walked to the doorway of the kitchen, but before disappearing through it, he turned about once more to declare that his Majesty had eaten no more than any other man, yet he had paid like a king!”

“Did you at last get your supper?” enquired Elizabeth.

“That we did, in something above an hour hence, at which time I cared not what was placed before me, so hungry was I become in that long interval,” he replied, “but the good man then requested that we ‘please to disregard and be pleased’ at the small quantity of food and how poorly it was dressed, as it was impossible to conjure satisfactory food from the very air!”