We pictured in all parts entertainments
and weddings, reckoning that without any expense but wind from our
lungs, and the water of our fountain, we should be maintained
through Piedmont, Savoy, France, and, indeed, all the world over.
There was no end to our projected travels, and we immediately directed
our course northward, rather for the pleasure of crossing the Alps,
than from a supposed necessity of being obliged to stop at any place.
Such was the plan on which I set out, abandoning without regret,
my preceptors, studies, and hopes, with the almost certain
attainment of a fortune, to lead the life of a real vagabond. Farewell
to the capital; adieu to the court, ambition, love, the fair, and
all the great adventures into which hope had led me during the
preceding year! I departed with my fountain and my friend Bacle, a
purse lightly furnished, but a heart overflowing with pleasure, and
only thinking how to enjoy the extensive felicity which I supposed
my project encircled.
This extravagant journey was performed almost as agreeably as I
had expected, though not exactly on the same plan; not but our
fountain highly amused the hostess and servants for some minutes at
all the alehouses where we halted, yet we found it equally necessary
to pay on our departure; but that gave us no concern, as we never
thought of depending on it entirely until our money should be
expended. An accident spared us that trouble, our fountain was
broken near Bramant, and in good time, for we both felt (though
without daring to own it to each other) that we began to be weary of
it.
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