When Pope Lambertini went to see the Opera House fitted up for the cantata which the Duke de Nivernois gave on the birth of the present King of France (Louis XVI.), the prelate who was in attendance wanted to take off the “stola,” thinking! that it was not decent so sacred a habit should appear in a theatre, but the Pope prevented him, calling him a “minchione” (a blockhead). Somebody wrote over the door, “Indulgenza pleniaria.”
When the Bishop of Derry was at Rome, he refused to help a French gentleman at Cardinal de Bernis’ table to some olives, saying he “would not give the olive to France.” The Marquis de Fortia replied, “And yet it is the duty of your profession to do so, milord.”
On the road from Naples to Rome the Cavaliere Lascaris was much annoyed at the slow pace the postilion went. He called out to him several times to go quicker, but the man always excused himself by abusing the Pope for keeping such bad roads. On reaching the end of the stage the Cavalier caned him handsomely; and, that the people around might not take the postilion’s part, he went on saying what a rascal he was to abuse his sovereign, such a good prince, too, &c. &c. The other then protested that he did not mean the present Pope, he meant Pope Rezzonico. “Worse and worse,” cried the Cavalier, “for he was a saint. I must beat you all the more.”
When the Duke of Arcas was sent by the King of Spain to congratulate the King and Queen of Naples on the birth of their eldest child, Ganganelli, who was then Pope, knew that the Duke had received instructions from his sovereign to press for the extinction of the Order of Jesuits. He resolved, therefore, to give the envoy no opportunity of addressing him on the subject. The Spanish Ambassador at Rome mentioned to the Pope’s confidant, Padre Bontempi, that he hoped his Holiness would treat the Duke with distinguished civility, as he was charged with a special mission. To which the Padre replied, that he could assure him the Duke should be received in a manner that would fully content him. When he arrived, the Pope was staying at the Castle Gandolpho, and he sent the Maestro di Camera and the Maggiordomo to receive the Duke at the door, the greatest compliment that can be shown even to a sovereign. The Pope was standing when he entered the room, and when he was about to kneel to kiss the feet of his Holiness, the latter prevented him, took him in his arms and embraced him, and seated him on a sofa beside himself. As the Duke made some difficulty about this, he said, “Do not look upon me as the Pope, but as a friar.” He then conversed with the envoy on various subjects, and kept up the conversation for half an hour, without allowing him the slightest opportunity to speak upon his real business. Padre Bontempi, according to previous arrangement, having made a sign that it was dinner-time, the Pope said that he had already observed that he was only a friar, and he lived like one, dining at twelve o’clock, but the Maggiordomo would take care of him (the Ambassador), though probably he would not fare so well as at the court of other sovereigns. He then rose, accompanied the Duke to the door, and as he was going out, said, “Remember me to Carluccio” (so he called the King of Spain), “and tell him that I am a man of honour, and will keep my promise to him, but he must give me time enough.” The Ambassador then took his leave, enchanted with his reception.