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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.07.00*END* + + + +This etext was prepared by David Widger, <widger@cecomet.net> + + + +MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798 +THE ETERNAL QUEST, Volume 3e--WITH VOLTAIRE + + +THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR +MACHEN TO WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED +BY ARTHUR SYMONS. + + + + +THE ETERNAL QUEST + + + + +WITH VOLTAIRE + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +M. de Voltaire; My Discussions with That Great Man--Ariosto--The Duc +de Villars--The Syndic and the Three Girls--Dispute with Voltaire-- +Aix-en-Savoie--The Marquis Desarmoises + + +"M. de Voltaire," said I, "this is the happiest moment of my life. +I have been your pupil for twenty years, and my heart is full of joy +to see my master." + +"Honour me with your attendance on my course for twenty years more, +and promise me that you will bring me my fees at the end of that +time." + +"Certainly, if you promise to wait for me." + +This Voltairean sally made all present laugh, as was to be expected, +for those who laugh keep one party in countenance at the other's +expense, and the side which has the laughter is sure to win; this is +the rule of good society. + +I was not taken by surprise, and waited to have my revenge. + +Just then two Englishmen came in and were presented to him. + +"These gentlemen are English," said Voltaire; "I wish I were." + +I thought the compliment false and out of place; for the gentlemen +were obliged to reply out of politeness that they wished they had +been French, or if they did not care to tell a lie they would be too +confused to tell the truth. I believe every man of honour should put +his own nation first. + +A moment after, Voltaire turned to me again and said that as I was a +Venetian I must know Count Algarotti. + +"I know him, but not because I am a Venetian, as seven-eights of my +dear countrymen are not even aware of his existence." + +"I should have said, as a man of letters." + +"I know him from having spent two months with him at Padua, seven +years ago, and what particularly attracted my attention was the +admiration he professed for M. de Voltaire." + +"That is flattering for me, but he has no need of admiring anyone." + +"If Algarotti had not begun by admiring others, he would never have +made a name for himself. As an admirer of Newton he endeavoured to +teach the ladies to discuss the theory of light." + +"Has he succeeded?" + +"Not as well as M. de Fontenelle in his "Plurality of Worlds;" +however, one may say he has succeeded." + +"True. If you see him at Bologna, tell him I am expecting to hear +from him about Russia. He can address my letters to my banker, +Bianchi, at Milan, and they will be sent on to me." + +"I will not fail to do so if I see him." + +"I have heard that the Italians do not care for his style." + +"No; all that he writes is full of French idioms. His style is +wretched." + +"But do not these French turns increase the beauty of your language?" + +"They make it insufferable, as French would be mixed with Italian or +German even though it were written by M. de Voltaire." + +"You are right; every language should preserve its purity. Livy has +been criticised on this account; his Latin is said to be tainted with +patavinity." + +"When I began to learn Latin, the Abbe Lazzarini told me he preferred +Livy to Sallust." + +"The Abbe Lazzarini, author of the tragedy, 'Ulisse il giovine'? +You must have been very young; I wish I had known him. But I knew +the Abbe Conti well; the same that was Newton's friend, and whose +four tragedies contain the whole of Roman history." + +"I also knew and admired him. I was young, but I congratulated +myself on being admitted into the society of these great men. It +seems as if it were yesterday, though it is many years ago; and now +in your presence my inferiority does not humiliate me. I wish to be +the younger son of all humanity." + +"Better so than to be the chief and eldest. May I ask you to what +branch of literature you have devoted yourself?" + +"To none; but that, perhaps, will come afterwards. In the meantime I +read as much as I can, and try to study character on my travels." + +"That is the way to become learned, but the book of humanity is too +vast. Reading a history is the easier way." + +"Yes, if history did not lie. One is not sure of the truth of the +facts. It is tiring, while the study of the world is amusing. +Horace, whom I know by heart, is my guide-book." + +"Algarotti, too, is very fond of Horace. Of course you are fond of +poetry?" + +"It is my passion." + +"Have you made many sonnets?" + +"Ten or twelve I like, and two or three thousand which in all +probability I have not read twice." + +"The Italians are mad after sonnets." + +"Yes; if one can call it a madness to desire to put thought into +measured harmony. The sonnet is difficult because the thought has to +be fitted exactly into the fourteen lines." + +"It is Procrustes' bed, and that's the reason you have so few good +ones. As for us, we have not one; but that is the fault of our +language." + +"And of the French genius, which considers that a thought when +extended loses all its force." + +"And you do not think so?" + +"Pardon me, it depends on the kind of thought. A witty saying, for +example, will not make a sonnet; in French or Italian it belongs to +the domain of epigram." + +"What Italian poet do you like best?" + +"Ariosto; but I cannot say I love him better than the others, for he +is my only love." + +"You know the others, though?" + +"I think I have read them all, but all their lights pale before +Ariosto's. Fifteen years ago I read all you have written against +him, and I said that you, would retract when you had read his works." + +"I am obliged to you for thinking that I had not read them. As a +matter of fact I had done so, but I was young. I knew Italian very +imperfectly, and being prejudiced by the learned Italians who adore +Tasso I was unfortunate enough to publish a criticism of Ariosto +which I thought my own, while it was only the echo of those who had +prejudiced me. I adore your Ariosto!" + +"Ah! M. de Voltaire, I breathe again. But be good enough to have +the work in which you turned this great man into ridicule +excommunicated." + +"What use would that be? All my books are excommunicated; but I +will give you a good proof of my retractation." + +I was astonished! The great man began to recite the two fine +passages from the thirty-fourth and thirty-fifth cantos, in which the +divine poet speaks of the conversation of Astolpho with St. John and +he did it without missing a single life or committing the slightest +fault against the laws of prosody. He then pointed out the beauties +of the passages with his natural insight and with a great man's +genius. I could not have had anything better from the lips of the +most skilled commentators in Italy. I listened to him with the +greatest attention, hardly daring to breath, and waiting for him to +make a mistake, but I had my trouble for nothing. I turned to the +company crying that I was more than astonished, and that all Italy +should know what I had seen. "And I, sir," said the great man, "will +let all Europe know of the amends I owe to the greatest genius our +continent has produced." + +Greedy of the praise which he deserved so well, Voltaire gave me the +next day his translation which Ariosto begins thus: + +"Quindi avvien the tra principi a signori." + + +At the end of the recitation which gained the applause of all who +heard it, although not one of them knew Italian, Madame Denis, his +niece, asked me if I thought the passage her uncle had just recited +one of the finest the poet had written. + +"Yes, but not the finest." + +"It ought to be; for without it Signor Lodovico would not have gained +his apotheosis." + +"He has been canonised, then? I was not aware of that." + +At these words the laugh, headed by Voltaire, went for Madame Denis. +Everybody laughed except myself, and I continued to look perfectly +serious. + +Voltaire was vexed at not seeing me laugh like the rest, and asked me +the reason. + +"Are you thinking," said he, "of some more than human passage?" + +"Yes," I answered. + +"What passage is that?" + +"The last thirty-six stanzas of the twenty-third canto, where the +poet describes in detail how Roland became mad. Since the world has +existed no one has discovered the springs of madness, unless Ariosto +himself, who became mad in his old age. These stanzas are terrible, +and I am sure they must have made you tremble." + +"Yes, I remember they render love dreadful. I long to read them +again." + +"Perhaps the gentleman will be good enough to recite them," said +Madame Denis, with a side-glance at her uncle. + +"Willingly," said I, "if you will have the goodness to listen to me." + +"You have learn them by heart, then, have you?" said Voltaire. + +"Yes, it was a pleasure and no trouble. Since I was sixteen, I have +read over Ariosto two or three times every year; it is my passion, +and the lines naturally become linked in my memory without my having +given myself any pains to learn them. I know it all, except his long +genealogies and his historical tirades, which fatigue the mind and do +not touch the heart. It is only Horace that I know throughout, in +spite of the often prosaic style of his epistles, which are certainly +far from equalling Boileau's." + +"Boileau is often too lengthy; I admire Horace, but as for Ariosto, +with his forty long cantos, there is too much of him." + +"It is fifty-one cantos, M. de Voltaire." + +The great man was silent, but Madame Denis was equal to the occasion. + +"Come, come," said she, "let us hear the thirty-six stanzas which +earned the author the title of divine, and which are to make us +tremble." + +I then began, in an assured voice, but not in that monotonous tone +adopted by the Italians, with which the French so justly reproach us. +The French would be the best reciters if they were not constrained by +the rhyme, for they say what they feel better than any other people. +They have neither the passionate monotonous tone of my fellow- +countrymen, nor the sentimentality of the Germans, nor the fatiguing +mannerisms of the English; to every period they give its proper +expression, but the recurrence of the same sounds partly spoils their +recitation. I recited the fine verses of Ariosto, as if it had been +rhythmic prose, animating it by the sound of my voice and the +movements of my eyes, and by modulating my intonation according to +the sentiments with which I wished to inspire my audience. They saw +how hardly I could restrain my tears, and every eye was wet; but when +I came to the stanza, + + "Poiche allargare il freno al dolor puote, + Che resta solo senza altrui rispetto, + Giu dagli occhi rigando per le gote + Sparge un fiume de lacrime sul petto," + +my tears coursed down my cheeks to such an extent that everyone began +to sob. M. de Voltaire and Madame Denis threw their arms round my +neck, but their embraces could not stop me, for Roland, to become +mad, had to notice that he was in the same bed in which Angelica had +lately been found in the arms of the too fortunate Medor, and I had +to reach the next stanza. For my voice of sorrow and wailing I +substituted the expression of that terror which arose naturally from +the contemplation of his fury, which was in its effects like a +tempest, a volcano, or an earthquake. + +When I had finished I received with a sad air the congratulations of +the audience. Voltaire cried, + +"I always said so; the secret of drawing tears is to weep one's self, +but they must be real tears, and to shed them the heart must be +stirred to its depths. I am obliged to you, sir," he added, +embracing me, "and I promise to recite the same stanzas myself to- +morrow, and to weep like you." + +He kept his word. + +"It is astonishing," said Madame Denis, "that intolerant Rome should +not have condemned the song of Roland." + +"Far from it," said Voltaire, "Leo X. excommunicated whoever should +dare to condemn it. The two great families of Este and Medici +interested themselves in the poet's favour. Without that protection +it is probable that the one line on the donation of Rome by +Constantine to Silvester, where the poet speaks 'puzza forte' would +have sufficed to put the whole poem under an interdict." + +"I believe," said I, "that the line which has excited the most talk +is that in which Ariosto throws doubt on the general resurrection. +Ariosto," I added, "in speaking of the hermit who would have hindered +Rhodomonte from getting possession of Isabella, widow of Zerbin, +paints the African, who wearied of the hermit's sermons, seizes him +and throws him so far that he dashes him against a rock, against +which he remains in a dead swoon, so that 'che al novissimo di forse +fia desto'." + +This 'forse' which may possibly have only been placed there as a +flower of rhetoric or as a word to complete the verse, raised a great +uproar, which would doubtless have greatly amused the poet if he had +had time! + +"It is a pity," said Madame Denis, "that Ariosto was not more careful +in these hyperbolical expressions." + +"Be quiet, niece, they are full of wit. They are all golden grains, +which are dispersed throughout the work in the best taste." + +The conversation was then directed towards various topics, and at +last we got to the 'Ecossaise' we had played at Soleure. + +They knew all about it. + +M. de Voltaire said that if I liked to play it at his house he would +write to M. de Chavigni to send the Lindane, and that he himself +would play Montrose. I excused myself by saying that Madame was at +Bale and that I should be obliged to go on my journey the next day. +At this he exclaimed loudly, aroused the whole company against me, +and said at last that he should consider my visit as an insult unless +I spared him a week at least of my society. + +"Sir," said I, "I have only come to Geneva to have the honour of +seeing you, and now that I have obtained that favour I have nothing +more to do." + +"Have you come to speak to me, or for me to speak to you?" + +"In a measure, of course, to speak to you, but much more for you to +speak to me." + +"Then stay here three days at least; come to dinner every day, and we +will have some conversation." + +The invitation was so flattering and pressing that I could not refuse +it with a good grace. I therefore accepted, and I then left to go +and write. + +I had not been back for a quarter of an hour when a syndic of the +town, an amiable man, whom I had seen at M. de Voltaire's, and whose +name I shall not mention, came and asked me to give him supper. +"I was present," said he, "at your argument with the great man, and +though I did not open my mouth I should much like to have an hour's +talk with you." By way of reply, I embraced him, begging him to +excuse my dressing-gown, and telling him that I should be glad if he +would spend the whole night with me. + +The worthy man spent two hours with me, without saying a word on the +subject of literature, but to please me he had no need to talk of +books, for he was a disciple of Epicurus and Socrates, and the +evening was spent in telling little stories, in bursts of laughter, +and in accounts of the various kinds of pleasure obtainable at +Geneva. Before leaving me he asked me to come and sup with him on +the following evening, promising that boredom should not be of the +party. + +"I shall wait for you," said I. + +"Very good, but don't tell anyone of the party." + +I promised to follow his instructions. + +Next morning, young Fox came to see me with the two Englishmen I had +seen at M. de Voltaire's. They proposed a game of quinze, which I +accepted, and after losing fifty louis I left off, and we walked +about the town till dinner-time. + +We found the Duc de Villars at Delices; he had come there to consult +Dr. Tronchin, who had kept him alive for the last ten years. + +I was silent during the repast, but at dessert, M. de Voltaire, +knowing that I had reasons for not liking the Venetian Government, +introduced the subject; but I disappointed him, as I maintained that +in no country could a man enjoy more perfect liberty than in Venice. + +"Yes," said he, "provided he resigns himself to play the part of a +dumb man." + +And seeing that I did not care for the subject, he took me by the arm +to his garden, of which, he said, he was the creator. The principal +walk led to a pretty running stream. + +"'Tis the Rhone," said he, "which I send into France." + +"It does not cost you much in carriage, at all events," said I. + +He smiled pleasantly and shewed me the principal street of Geneva, +and Mont Blanc which is the highest point of the Alps. + +Bringing back the conversation to Italian literature, he began to +talk nonsense with much wit and learning, but always concluding with +a false judgment. I let him talk on. He spoke of Homer, Dante, and +Petrarch, and everybody knows what he thought of these great +geniuses, but he did himself wrong in writing what he thought. I +contented myself with saying that if these great men did not merit +the esteem of those who studied them; it would at all events be a +long time before they had to come down from the high place in which +the praise of centuries, had placed them. + +The Duc de Villars and the famous Tronchin came and joined us. The +doctor, a tall fine man, polite, eloquent without being a +conversationalist, a learned physician, a man of wit, a favourite +pupil of Boerhaeve, without scientific jargon, or charlatanism, or +self-sufficiency, enchanted me. His system of medicine was based on +regimen, and to make rules he had to be a man of profound science. +I have been assured, but can scarcely believe it, that he cured a +consumptive patient of a secret disease by means of the milk of an +ass, which he had submitted to thirty strong frictions of mercury by +four sturdy porters. + +As to Villars he also attracted my attention, but in quite a +different way to Tronchin. On examining his face and manner I +thought I saw before me a woman of seventy dressed as a man, thin and +emaciated, but still proud of her looks, and with claims to past +beauty. His cheeks and lips were painted, his eyebrows blackened, +and his teeth were false; he wore a huge wig, which, exhaled amber, +and at his buttonhole was an enormous bunch of flowers, which touched +his chin. He affected a gracious manner, and he spoke so softly that +it was often impossible to hear what he said. He was excessively +polite and affable, and his manners were those of the Regency. His +whole appearance was supremely ridiculous. I was told that in his +youth he was a lover of the fair sex, but now that he was no longer +good for anything he had modestly made himself into a woman, and had +four pretty pets in his employ, who took turns in the disgusting duty +of warming his old carcase at night. + +Villars was governor of Provence, and had his back eaten up with +cancer. In the course of nature he should have been buried ten years +ago, but Tronchin kept him alive with his regimen and by feeding the +wounds on slices of veal. Without this the cancer would have killed +him. His life might well be called an artificial one. + +I accompanied M. de Voltaire to his bedroom, where he changed his wig +and put on another cap, for he always wore one on account of the +rheumatism to which he was subject. I saw on the table the Summa of +St. Thomas, and among other Italian poets the 'Secchia Rapita' of +Tassoni. + +"This," said Voltaire, "is the only tragicomic poem which Italy has. +Tassoni was a monk, a wit and a genius as well as a poet." + +"I will grant his poetical ability but not his learning, for he +ridiculed the system of Copernicus, and said that if his theories +were followed astronomers would not be able to calculate lunations or +eclipses." + +"Where does he make that ridiculous remark?" + +"In his academical discourses." + +"I have not read them, but I will get them." + +He took a pen and noted the name down, and said,-- + +"But Tassoni has criticised Petrarch very ingeniously." + +"Yes, but he has dishonoured taste and literature, like Muratori." + +"Here he is. You must allow that his learning is immense." + +"Est ubi peccat." + +Voltaire opened a door, and I saw a hundred great files full of +papers. + +"That's my correspondence," said he. "You see before you nearly +fifty thousand letters, to which I have replied." + +"Have you a copy of your answers?" + +"Of a good many of them. That's the business of a servant of mine, +who has nothing else to do." + +"I know plenty of booksellers who would give a good deal to get hold +of your answers. + +"Yes; but look out for the booksellers when you publish anything, if +you have not yet begun; they are greater robbers than Barabbas." + +"I shall not have anything to do with these gentlemen till I am an +old man." + +"Then they will be the scourge of your old age." + +Thereupon I quoted a Macaronic verse by Merlin Coccaeus. + +"Where's that from?" + +"It's a line from a celebrated poem in twenty-four cantos." + +"Celebrated?" + +"Yes; and, what is more, worthy of being celebrated; but to +appreciate it one must understand the Mantuan dialect." + +"I could make it out, if you could get me a copy." + +"I shall have the honour of presenting you with one to-morrow." + +"You will oblige me extremely." + +We had to leave his room and spend two hours in the company, talking +over all sorts of things. Voltaire displayed all the resources of +his brilliant and fertile wit, and charmed everyone in spite of his +sarcastic observations which did not even spare those present, but he +had an inimitable manner of lancing a sarcasm without wounding a +person's feelings. When the great man accompanied his witticisms +with a graceful smile he could always get a laugh. + +He kept up a notable establishment and an excellent table, a rare +circumstance with his poetic brothers, who are rarely favourites of +Plutus as he was. He was then sixty years old, and had a hundred and +twenty thousand francs a year. It has been said maliciously that +this great man enriched himself by cheating his publishers; whereas +the fact was that he fared no better than any other author, and +instead of duping them was often their dupe. The Cramers must be +excepted, whose fortune he made. Voltaire had other ways of making +money than by his pen; and as he was greedy of fame, he often gave +his works away on the sole condition that they were to be printed and +published. During the short time I was with him, I was a witness of +such a generous action; he made a present to his bookseller of the +"Princess of Babylon," a charming story which he had written in three +days. + +My epicurean syndic was exact to his appointment, and took me to a +house at a little distance where he introduced me to three young +ladies, who, without being precisely beautiful, were certainly +ravishing. Two of them were sisters. I had an easy and pleasant +welcome, and from their intellectual appearance and gay manners I +anticipated a delightful evening, and I was not disappointed. The +half hour before supper was passed in conversation, decent but +without restraint, and during supper, from the hints the syndic gave +me, I guessed what would happen after dessert. + +It was a hot evening, and on the pretext of cooling ourselves, we +undressed so as to be almost in a state of nature. What an orgy we +had! I am sorry I am obliged to draw a veil over the most exciting +details. In the midst of our licentious gaiety, whilst we were +heated by love, champagne, and a discourse of an exciting nature, I +proposed to recite Grecourt's 'Y Gyec'. When I had finished the +voluptuous poem, worthy of an abbe's pen, I saw that the eyes of the +three beauties were all aflame, and said,-- + +"Ladies, if you like, I will shew you all three, one after the other, +why the sentence, 'Gaudeant bene nati', was uttered"; and without +waiting for their reply, I succeeded in making them happy. The +syndic was radiant, he was pleased at having given me a present +entirely to my taste; and I fancied that the entertainment was not +displeasing to the three Graces, who were kept low by the Sybarite, +as his powers were almost limited to desires. The girls lavished +their thanks on me, while I endeavoured to assure them of my +gratitude; but they leapt for joy when they heard the syndic asking +me to come next day. + +As he was taking me back to my inn I told him how great a pleasure he +had given me, and he said he had brought up the three jewels himself. + +"You," he added, "are the only man besides myself they know. You +shall see them again, but I beg you will take care not to leave +anything behind you, for in this town of prejudices that would be a +great misfortune for them and for me." + +"You are always moderate in your enjoyment, then?" I said to him. + +"Unfortunately, that is no merit as far as I am concerned. I was +born for the service of love, and Venus has punished me for +worshipping her when I was too young." + +After a good night's sleep I awoke in an active mood, and began to +write a letter to Voltaire in blank verse, which cost me four times +the pains that rhymed verses would have done. I sent it to him with +the poem of Theophile Falengue, but I made a mistake in doing so, as +I might have known he would not care for it; one cannot appreciate +what one does not understand. I then went to Mr. Fox, where I found +the two Englishmen who offered me my revenge. I lost a hundred +Louis, and was glad to see them set out for Lausanne. + +The syndic had told me that the three young ladies belonged to +respectable families, but were not rich. I puzzled my head to think +of some useful present I might make them without offending them, and +at last I hit on a plan of the most ridiculous nature, as the reader +will see. I went to a jeweller and told him to make me three golden +balls, each of two ounces in weight. + +At noon I went to M. de Voltaire's. He was not to be seen, but +Madame Denis consoled me for his absence. She had wit, learning +without pretension, taste, and a great hatred for the King of +Prussia, whom she called a villain. She asked about my beautiful +housekeeper, and congratulated me on having married her to a +respectable man. Although I feel now that she was quite right, I was +far from thinking so then; the impression was too fresh on my mind. +Madame Denis begged me to tell her how I had escaped from The Leads, +but as the story was rather a long one I promised to satisfy her +another time. + +M. de Voltaire did not dine with us; he appeared, however, at five +o'clock, holding a letter in his hand. + +"Do you know," said he, "the Marquis Albergati Capacelli, senator of +Bologna, and Count Paradisi?" + +"I do not know Paradisi, but I know Albergati by sight and by +reputation; he is not a senator, but one of the Forty, who at Bologna +are Fifty." + +"Dear me! That seems rather a riddle!" + +"Do you know him?" + +"No, but he has sent me Goldoni's 'Theatre,' the translation of my +Tancred, and some Bologna sausages, and he says he will come and see +me." + +"He will not come; he is not such a fool." + +"How a fool? Would there be anything foolish in coming to see me?" + +"Certainly not, as far as you are concerned; but very much so far his +own sake." + +"Would you mind telling me why?" + +"He knows what he would lose; for he enjoys the idea you seem to have +of him, and if he came you would see his nothingness, and good-bye to +the illusion. He is a worthy man with six thousand sequins a year, +and a craze for the theatre. He is a good actor enough, and has +written several comedies in prose, but they are fit neither for the +study nor the stage." + +"You certainly give him a coat which does not make him look any +bigger." + +"I assure you it is not quite small enough." + +"But tell me how he can belong to the Forty and the Fifty?" + +"Just as at Bale noon is at eleven." + +"I understand; just as your Council of Ten is composed of seventeen +members." + +"Exactly; but the cursed Forty of Bologna are men of another kind." + +"Why cursed?" + +"Because they are not subject to the fisc, and are thus enabled to +commit whatever crimes they like with perfect impunity; all they have +got to do is to live outside the state borders on their revenues." + +"That is a blessing, and not a curse; but let me return to our +subject. I suppose the Marquis Albergati is a man of letters?" + +"He writes well enough, but he is fond of the sound of his own voice, +his style is prolix, and I don't think he has much brains." + +"He is an actor, I think you said?" + +"Yes, and a very good one, above all, when he plays the lover's part +in one of his own plays." + +"Is he a handsome man?" + +"Yes, on the stage, but not elsewhere; his face lacks expression." + +"But his plays give satisfaction?" + +"Not to persons who understand play writing; they would be hissed if +they were intelligible." + +"And what do you think of Goldoni?" + +"I have the highest opinion of him. Goldoni is the Italian Moliere." + +"Why does he call himself poet to the Duke of Parma?" + +"No doubt to prove that a wit as well as a fool has his weak points; +in all probability the duke knows nothing about it. He also calls +himself a barrister, though he is such only in his own imagination. +Goldoni is a good play writer, and nothing more. Everybody in Venice +knows me for his friend, and I can therefore speak of him with +authority. He does not shine in society, and in spite of the fine +satire of his works he is a man of an extremely gentle disposition." + +"So I have been told. He is poor, and wants to leave Venice. The +managers of the theatres where they play his pieces will not like +that." + +"People talked about getting him a pension, but the project has been +relegated to the Greek Kalends, as they said that if he had a pension +he would write no more." + +"Cumae refused to give a pension to Homer, for fear that all the +blind men would ask for a pension." + +We spent a pleasant day, and he thanked me heartily for the copy of +the Macaronicon, which he promised to read. He introduced me to a +Jesuit he had in his household, who was called Adam, and he added, +after telling me his name, "not the first Adam." I was told +afterwards that Voltaire used to play backgammon with him, and when +he lost he would throw the dice and the box at his head. If Jesuits +were treated like that all the world over, perhaps we should have +none but inoffensive Jesuits at last, but that happy time is still +far off. + +I had scarcely got to my inn in the evening when I received my three +golden balls, and as soon as the syndic came we set off to renew our +voluptuous orgy. On the way he talked about modesty, and said,-- + +"That feeling which prevents our shewing those parts which we have +been taught to cover from our childhood, may often proceed from +virtue, but is weaker than the force of education, as it cannot +resist an attack when the attacking party knows what he is about. +I think the easiest way to vanquish modesty is to ignore its +presence, to turn it into ridicule, to carry it by storm. Victory is +certain. The hardihood of the assailer subdues the assailed, who +usually only wishes to be conquered, and nearly always thanks you for +your victory. + +"Clement of Alexandria, a learned man and a philosopher, has remarked +that the modesty which appears so deeply rooted in women's hearts +really goes no farther than the clothes they wear, and that when +these are plucked off no trace of it remains." + +We found the three girls lightly clad and sitting on a large sopha, +and we sat down opposite to them. Pleasant talk and a thousand +amorous kisses occupied the half hour just before supper, and our +combat did not begin till we had eaten a delicious repast, washed +down with plenty of champagne. + +We were sure of not being interrupted by the maid and we put +ourselves at our ease, whilst our caresses became more lively and +ardent. The syndic, like a careful man, drew a packet of fine French +letters from his pocket, and delivered a long eulogium on this +admirable preservative from an accident which might give rise to a +terrible and fruitless repentance. The ladies knew them, and seemed +to have no objection to the precaution; they laughed heartily to see +the shape these articles took when they were blown out. But after +they had amused themselves thus for some time, I said, + +"My dear girls, I care more for your honour than your beauty; but do +not think I am going to shut myself in a piece of dead skin to prove +that I am alive. Here," I added, drawing out the three golden balls, +"is a surer and less disagreeable way of securing you from any +unpleasant consequences. After fifteen years' experience I can +assure you that with these golden balls you can give and take without +running the least risk. For the future you will have no need of +those humiliating sheaths. Trust in me and accept this little +present from a Venetian who adores you." + +"We are very grateful," said the elder of the two sisters, "but how +are these pretty balls used?" + +"The ball has to be at the rear of the temple of love, whilst the +amorous couple are performing the sacrifice. The antipathy +communicated to the metal by its being soaked for a certain time in +an alkaline solution prevents impregnation." + +"But," said the cousin, "one must take great care that the ball is +not shaken out by the motion before the end of the sacrifice." + +"You needn't be afraid of that if you place yourself in a proper +position." + +"Let us see how it's done," said the syndic, holding a candle for me +to put the ball in place. + +The charming cousin had gone too far to turn back; she had to submit +to the operation. I placed the ball in such a position that it could +not fall out before I was in; however, it fell out towards the end, +just as we were separating. The victim perceived that I had taken her +in. However, she said nothing, picked up the ball, and challenged +the two sisters to submit to the pleasant experiment, to which they +lent themselves with the greatest interest; while the syndic, who had +no faith in the virtues of the metal, contented himself with looking +on. After half an hour's rest I began again, without balls, assuring +them that I would be careful, and I kept my word, without depriving +them of the pleasure in the slightest degree. + +When it was time to part, these girls, who had formerly been scantily +provided for, threw their arms round my neck, overwhelmed me with +caresses, and declared how much they owed me. The syndic told them +that I was going in two days, and suggested that they should make me +stay a day longer in Geneva, and I made this sacrifice joyfully. The +worthy syndic had an engagement on the following day, and I sorely +needed a holiday myself. He took me back to my inn, thanking me +almost as heartily as his charming nymphs. + +After having enjoyed a calm and refreshing sleep ten hours, I felt +myself able to enjoy the delightful society of M. de Voltaire. I +went to his house, but I was disappointed in my hopes, as it pleased +the great man to be in a fault-finding and sarcastic mood the whole +day. He knew I had to leave on the morrow. + +He began by thanking me at table for my present of Merlin Coccaeus. + +"You certainly gave it me with good intentions," said he, "but I owe +you no thanks for praising it so highly, as you made me lose four +hours in reading nonsense." + +I felt my hair stand on end, but I mastered my emotions, and told him +quietly enough that one day, perhaps, he would find himself obliged +to praise the poem more highly than I had done. I quoted several +instances of the insufficiency of a first perusal. + +"That's true," said he; "but as for your Merlin, I will read him no +more. I have put him beside Chapelain's 'Pucelle'." + +"Which pleases all the critics, in spite of its bad versification, +for it is a good poem, and Chapelain was a real poet though he wrote +bad verses. I cannot overlook his genius." + +My freedom must have shocked him, and I might have guessed it when he +told me he had put the 'Macaronicon' beside the 'Pucelle'. I knew +that there was a poem of the same title in circulation, which passed +for Voltaire's; but I also knew that he disavowed it, and I thought +that would make him conceal the vexation my explanation must have +caused him. It was not so, however; he contradicted me sharply, and +I closed with him. + +"Chapelain," said I, "has the merit of having rendered his +subject-matter pleasant, without pandering to the tastes of his +readers by saying things shocking to modesty and piety. So thinks my +master Crebillon:" + +"Crebillon! You cite a weighty authority. But how is my friend +Crebillon your master, may I ask?" + +"He taught me to speak French in less than two years, and as a mark +of my gratitude I translated his Radamiste into Italian Alexandrines. +I am the first Italian who has dared to use this metre in our +language." + +"The first? I beg your pardon, as that honour belongs to my friend +Pierre Jacques Martelli." + +"I am sorry to be obliged to tell you that you are making a mistake." + +"Why, I have his works, printed at Bologna, in my room!" + +"I don't deny that, I am only talking about the metre used by +Martelli. What you are thinking of must be verses of fourteen +syllables; without alternative masculine and feminine rhymes. +However, I confess that he thinks he has imitated the French +Alexandrines, and his preface made me explode with laughter. Did you +read it?" + +"Read it? I always read prefaces, and Martelli proves there that his +verses have the same effect in Italian as our Alexandrine verses have +in French." + +"Exactly, that's what's so amusing. The worthy man is quite +mistaken, and I only ask you to listen to what I have to say on the +subject. Your masculine verse has only twelve poetic syllables, and +the feminine thirteen. All Martelli's lines have fourteen syllables, +except those that finish with a long vowel, which at the end of a +line always counts as two syllables. You will observe that the first +hemistitch in Martelli always consists of seven syllables, while in +French it only has six. Your friend Pierre Jacques was either stone +deaf or very hard of hearing." + +"Then you have followed our theory of versification rigorously." + +"Just so, in spite of the difficulty, as nearly all our words end +with a short syllable." + +"What reception has been accorded to your innovation?" + +"It has not been found pleasing, because nobody knows how to recite +my verses; but I hope to triumph when I deliver them myself before +our literary clubs." + +"Do you remember any of your version of the Radamiste?" + +"I remember it all." + +"You have a wonderful memory; I should be glad to hear it." + +I began to recite the same scene that I had recited to Crebillon ten +years before, and I thought M. de Voltaire listened with pleasure. + +"It doesn't strike one as at all harsh," said he. + +This was the highest praise he would give me. In his turn the great +man recited a passage from Tancred which had not as yet been +published, and which was afterwards considered, and rightly, as a +masterpiece. + +We should have got on very well if we had kept to that, but on my +quoting a line of Horace to praise one of his pieces, he said that +Horace was a great master who had given precepts which would never be +out of date. Thereupon I answered that he himself had violated one +of them, but that he had violated it grandly. + +"Which is that?" + +"You do not write, 'Contentus paucis lectoribus'." + +"If Horace had had to combat the hydra-headed monster of +superstition, he would have written as I have written--for all the +world." + +"It seems to me that you might spare yourself the trouble of +combating what you will never destroy." + +"That which I cannot finish others will, and I shall always have the +glory of being the first in the field." + +"Very good; but supposing you succeed in destroying superstition, +what are you going to put in its place?" + +"I like that. If I deliver the race of man from a wild beast which +is devouring it, am I to be asked what I intend to put in its place?" + +"It does not devour it; on the contrary, it is necessary to its +existence." + +"Necessary to its existence! That is a horrible blasphemy, the +falsity of which will be seen in the future. I love the human race; +I would fain see men like myself, free and happy, and superstition +and freedom cannot go together. Where do you find an enslaved and +yet a happy people?" + +"You wish, then, to see the people sovereign?" + +"God forbid! There must be a sovereign to govern the masses." + +"In that case you must have superstition, for without it the masses +will never obey a mere man decked with the name of monarch." + +"I will have no monarch; the word expresses despotism, which I hate +as I do slavery." + +"What do you mean, then? If you wish to put the government in the +hands of one man, such a man, I maintain, will be a monarch." + +"I would have a sovereign ruler of a free people, of which he is the +chief by an agreement which binds them both, which would prevent him +from becoming a tyrant." + +"Addison will tell you that such a sovereign is a sheer +impossibility. I agree with Hobbes, of two evils choose the least. +A nation without superstition would be a nation of philosophers, and +philosophers would never obey. The people will only be happy when +they are crushed and down-trodden, and bound in chains." + +"This is horrible; and you are of the people yourself. If you have +read my works you must have seen how I shew that superstition is the +enemy of kings." + +"Read your works? I have read and re-read them, especially in places +where I have differed from you. Your ruling passion is the love of +humanity. 'Est ubi peccas'. This blinds you. Love humanity, but +love it as it is. It is not fit to receive the blessings you would +lavish on it, and which would only make it more wretched and +perverse. Leave men their devouring monster, it is dear to them. +I have never laughed so heartily as at Don Quixote assailed by the +galley-slaves whom his generosity had set free." + +"I am sorry that you have such a bad opinion of your fellow- +creatures. And by the way, tell me whether there is freedom in +Venice." + +"As much as can be expected under an aristocracy. Our liberty is not +so great as that which the English enjoy, but we are content." + +"Even under The Leads?" + +"My imprisonment was certainly despotic; but as I had knowingly +abused my liberty I am satisfied that the Government was within its +rights in shutting me up without the usual formalities." + +"All the same, you made your escape." + +"I used my rights as they had used theirs." + +"Very good! But as far as I can see, no one in Venice is really +free." + +"That may be; but you must agree that the essence of freedom consists +in thinking you have it." + +"I shall not agree to that so easily. You and I see liberty from +very different points of view. The aristocrats, the members of the +Government even, are not free at Venice; for example, they cannot +travel without permission." + +"True, but that is a restriction of their own making to preserve +their power. Would you say that a Bernese is not free, because he is +subject to the sumptuary laws, which he himself had made." + +"Well, well, I wish the people made the laws everywhere." + +After this lively answer, he abruptly asked me what part I came from. + +"From Roche," said I. "I should have been very sorry to leave +Switzerland without seeing the famous Haller. In my travels I render +homage to my learned contemporaries, and you come the last and best." + +"You must have liked Haller." + +"I spent three of the happiest days of my life with him." + +"I congratulate you. He is a great man and worthy of all honour." + +"I think as you do, and I am glad to hear you doing him justice; I am +sorry he was not so just towards you." + +"Well, you see we may be both of us mistaken." + +At this reply, the quickness of which constituted its chief merit, +everybody present began to laugh and applaud. + +No more was said of literature, and I became a silent actor till +M. de Voltaire retired, when I approached Madame Denis, and asked her +if she had any commands for me at Rome. I went home well pleased at +having compelled the giant of intellect to listen to reason, as I +then thought foolishly enough; but there was a rankling feeling left +in my heart against him which made me, ten years later, criticise all +he had written. + +I am sorry now for having done so, though on reading my censures over +again I find that in many places I was right. I should have done +better, however, to have kept silence, to have respected his genius, +and to have suspected my own opinions. I should have considered that +if it had not been for those quips and cranks which made me hate him +on the third day, I should have thought him wholly sublime. This +thought alone should have silenced me, but an angry man always thinks +himself right. Posterity on reading my attack will rank me among the +Zoyluses, and the humble apology I now make to the great man's shades +may not be read. + +If we meet in the halls of Pluto, the more peccant parts of our +mortal nature purged away, all will be made up; he will receive my +heartfelt apologies, and he will be my friend, I his sincere admirer. + +I spent part of the night and the whole of the following day in +writing down my conversations with Voltaire, and they amounted nearly +to a volume, of which I have only given a mere abridgment. Towards +the evening my Epicurean syndic called on me, and we went to sup with +the three nymphs, and for five hours we indulged in every species of +wantonness, in which I had a somewhat fertile imagination. On +leaving I promised to call on them again on my return from Rome, and +I kept my word. I set out the next day, after dining with the +syndic, who accompanied me as far as Anneci, where I spent the night. +Next day I dined at Aix, with the intention of lying at Chamberi, but +my destiny ordered otherwise. + +Aix is a villainous hole where the mineral waters attract people of +fashion towards the end of the summer--a circumstance of which I was +then ignorant. I dined hastily, wishing to set out immediately for +Chamberi, when in the middle of my repast a crowd of fashionable +people burst into the room. I looked at them without stirring, +replying with an inclination of the head to the bows which some of +them made me. I soon discovered from their conversation that they +had all come to take the waters. A gentleman of a fine presence came +up to me and asked if I were going to Turin; I answered that my way +was to Marseilles. + +Their dinner was served, and everybody sat down. Among them I +noticed several pleasant-looking ladies, with gentlemen who were +either their husbands or their lovers. I concluded that I might find +some amusement with them, as they all spoke French with that easy +tone of good society which is so attractive, and I felt that I should +be inclined to stay without much pressing, for that day at all +events. + +I finished my dinner before the company had come to the end of their +first course, and as my coach could not go for another hour I went up +to a pretty woman, and complimented her on the good the waters of Aix +seemed to have done her, for her appetite made all who looked at her +feel hungry. + +"I challenge you to prove that you are speaking the truth," said she, +with a smile. I sat down next to her, and she gave me a nice piece +of the roast which I ate as if I had been fasting. + +While I was talking with the lady, and eating the morsels she gave +me, I heard a voice saying that I was in the abbe's place, and +another voice replying that the abbe had been gone for half an hour. + +"Why has he gone?" asked a third, "he said he was going to stay here +for another week." At this there was some whispering, but the +departure of an abbe had nothing interesting in it for me, and I +continued eating and talking. I told Le Duc, who was standing behind +my chair, to get me some champagne. I offered the lady some, she +accepted, and everyone began to call for champagne. Seeing my +neighbour's spirits rising, I proceeded to make love to her, and +asked her if she were always as ready to defy those who paid their +court to her. + +"So many of them," she answered, "are not worthy the trouble." + +She was pretty and quick-witted, and I took a fancy to her, and +wished for some pretext on which I could put off my departure, and +chance came to my aid. + +"The place next to you was conveniently empty," said a lady to my +neighbour who was drinking with me. + +"Very conveniently, for my neighbour wearied me." + +"Had he no appetite?" said I. + +"Gamesters only have an appetite for money." + +"Usually, but your power is extraordinary; for I have never made two +dinners on one day before now." + +"Only out of pride; as I am sure you will eat no supper." + +"Let us make a bet on it." + +"We will; we will bet the supper." + +"All right." + +All the guests began to clap, and my fair neighbour blushed with +pleasure. I ordered Le Duc to tell my coachman that I should not be +going till the next day. + +"It is my business," said the lady, "to order the supper." + +"Yes, you are right; for he who pays, orders. My part will be to +oppose you to the knife, and if I eat as much as you I shall be the +winner." + +"Very good." + +At the end of dinner, the individual who had addressed me before +called for cards, and made a small bank of faro. He put down twenty- +five Piedmontese pistoles, and some silver money to amuse the ladies +--altogether it amounted nearly to forty louis. I remained a +spectator during the first deal, and convinced myself that the banker +played very well. + +Whilst he was getting ready for the second deal, the lady asked me +why I did not play. I whispered to her that she had made me lose my +appetite for money. She repaid this compliment with a charming +smile. + +After this declaration, feeling myself entitled to play, I put down +forty louis, and lost them in two deals. I got up, and on the banker +saying very politely that he was sorry for my loss, I replied that it +was a mere nothing, but that I always made it a rule never to risk a +sum of money larger than the bank. Somebody then asked me if I knew +a certain Abbe Gilbert. + +"I knew a man of that name," said I, "at Paris; he came from Lyons, +and owes me a pair of ears, which I mean to cut off his head when I +meet him." + +My questioner made no reply to this, and everybody remained silent, +as if nothing had been said. From this I concluded that the abbe +aforesaid must be the same whose place I had occupied at dinner. He +had doubtless seen me on my arrival and had taken himself off. This +abbe was a rascal who had visited me at Little Poland, to whom I had +entrusted a ring which had cost me five thousand florins in Holland; +next day the scoundrel had disappeared. + +When everybody had left the table, I asked Le Duc if I were well +lodged. + +"No," said he; "would you like to see your room?" + +He took me to a large room, a hundred paces from the inn, whose sole +furniture consisted of its four walls, all the other rooms being +occupied. I complained vainly to the inn-keeper, who said, + +"It's all I can offer you, but I will have a good bed, a table, and +chairs taken there." + +I had to content myself with it, as there was no choice. + +"You will sleep in my room," said I to Le Duc, "take care to provide +yourself with a bed, and bring my baggage in." + +"What do you think of Gilbert, sir?" said my Spaniard; "I only +recognized him just as he was going, and I had a lively desire to +take him by the back of his neck." + +"You would have done well to have satisfied that desire." + +"I will, when I see him again." + +As I was leaving my big room, I was accosted politely by a man who +said he was glad to be my neighbour, and offered to take me to the +fountain if I were going there. I accepted his offer. He was a tall +fair man, about fifty years old; he must once have been handsome, but +his excessive politeness should have made me suspect him; however, I +wanted somebody to talk to, and to give me the various pieces of +information I required. On the way he informed me of the condition +of the people I had seen, and I learnt that none of them had come to +Aix for the sake of the waters. + +"I am the only one," said he, "who takes them out of necessity. I am +consumptive; I get thinner every day, and if the waters don't do me +any good I shall not last much longer." + +So all the others have only come here for amusement's sake?" + +"And to game, sir, for they are all professional gamesters." + +"Are they French?" + +"They are all from Piedmont or Savoy; I am the only Frenchman here." + +"What part of France do you come from?" + +"From Lorraine; my father, who is eighty years old, is the Marquis +Desarmoises. He only keeps on living to spite me, for as I married +against his wishes he has disinherited me. However, as I am his only +son, I shall inherit his property after his death, in spite of him. +My house is at Lyons, but I never go there, as I have the misfortune +to be in love with my eldest daughter, and my wife watches us so +closely as to make my courtship hopeless." + +"That is very fine; otherwise, I suppose, your daughter would take +pity on her amorous papa?" + +"I daresay, for she is very fond of me, and has an excellent heart." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +My Adventures at Aix--My Second M. M. --Madame Zeroli + + +This man, who, though he did not know me, put the utmost confidence +in me, so far from thinking he was horrifying me by the confession of +such wickedness, probably considered he was doing me a great honour. +While I listened to him I reflected that though depraved he might +have his good points, and that his weakness might have a pitiable if +not a pardonable side. However, wishing to know more of him, I +said,-- + +"In spite of your father's sternness, you live very well." + +"On the contrary, I live very ill. I enjoy a pension from the +Government, which I surrender to my wife, and as for me I make a +livelihood on my travels. I play black gammon and most other games +perfectly. I win more often than I lose, and I live on my winnings." + +"But is what you have told me about your daughter known to the +visitors here?" + +"Everybody knows it; why should I hide it? I am a man of honour and +injure no one; and, besides, my sword is sharp." + +"Quite so; but would you tell me whether you allow your daughter to +have a lover?" + +"I should have no objection, but my wife is religious." + +"Is your daughter pretty?" + +"Very; if you are going to Lyons, you can go and see her; I will give +you a letter of introduction for her." "Thank you, but I am going to +Italy. Can you tell me the name of the gentleman who kept the bank?" + +"That is the famous Parcalier, Marquis de Prie since the death of his +father, whom you may have known as ambassador at Venice. The +gentleman who asked you if you knew the Abbe Gilbert is the Chevalier +Zeroli, husband of the lady you are to sup with. The rest are +counts, marquises, and barons of the usual kind, some from Piedmont +and some from Savoy. Two or three are merchants' sons, and the +ladies are all their friends or relations. They are all professional +gamblers and sharp-witted. When a stranger comes here they know how +to get over him, and if he plays it is all up with him, for they go +together like pickpockets at a fair. They think they have got you, +so take care of yourself." + +In the evening we returned to the inn, and found all the company +playing, and my companion proceeded to play with a Count de +Scarnafisch. + +The Chevalier Zeroli offered to play faro with me for forty sequins, +and I had just lost that sum when supper was served. My loss had not +affected my spirits, and the lady finding me at once hungry and gay +paid the bet with a good grace. At supper I surprised her in certain +side-glances, which warned me that she was going to try to dupe me; I +felt myself safe as far as love was concerned, but I had reason to +dread fortune, always the friend of those who keep a bank at faro, +especially as I had already lost. I should have done well to go, but +I had not the strength; all I could do was to promise myself that I +would be extremely prudent. Having large sums in paper money and +plenty of gold, it was not difficult for me to be careful. + +Just after supper the Marquis de Prie made a bank of about three +hundred sequins. His staking this paltry sum shewed me that I had +much to lose and little to win, as it was evident that he would have +made a bank of a thousand sequins if he had had them. I put down +fifty Portuguese crowns, and said that as soon as I had lost them I +should go to bed. In the middle of the third deal I broke the bank. + +"I am good for another two hundred louis," said the marquis. + +"I should be glad to continue playing," I replied, "if I had not to +go at day-break"; and I thereupon left the room. + +Just as I was going to bed, Desarmoises came and asked me to lend him +twelve louis. I had expected some such request, and I counted them +out to him. He embraced me gratefully, and told me that Madame +Zeroli had sworn to make me stay on at least for another day. I +smiled and called Le Duc, and asked him if my coachman knew that I +was starting early; he replied that he would be at the door by five +o'clock. + +"Very good," said Desarmoises, "but I will wager that you will not go +for all that." + +He went out and I went to bed, laughing at his prophecy. + +At five o'clock next morning the coachman came to tell me that one of +the horses was ill and could not travel. I saw that Desarmoises had +had an inkling of some plot, but I only laughed. I sent the man +roughly about his business, and told Le Duc to get me post-horses at +the inn. The inn-keeper came and told me that there were no horses, +and that it would take all the morning to find some, as the Marquis +de Prie, who was leaving at one o'clock in the morning, had emptied +his stables. I answered that in that case I would dine at Aix, but +that I counted on his getting me horses by two o'clock in the +afternoon. + +I left the room and went to the stable, where I found the coachman +weeping over one of his horses stretched out on the straw. I thought +it was really an accident, and consoled the poor devil, paying him as +if he had done his work, and telling him I should not want him any +more. I then went towards the fountain, but the reader will be +astonished by a meeting of the most romantic character, but which is +yet the strict truth. + +At a few paces from the fountain I saw two nuns coming from it. They +were veiled, but I concluded from their appearance that one was young +and the other old. There was nothing astonishing in such a sight, +but their habit attracted my attention, for it was the same as that +worn by my dear M---- M----, whom I had seen for the last time on +July 24th, 1755, five years before. The look of them was enough, not +to make me believe that the young nun was M---- M----, but to excite +my curiosity. They were walking towards the country, so I turned to +cut them off that I might see them face to face and be seen of them. +What was my emotion when I saw the young nun, who, walking in front, +and lifting her veil, disclosed the veritable face of M---- M----. +I could not doubt that it was she, and I began to walk beside her; +but she lowered her veil, and turned to avoid me. + +The reasons she might have for such a course passed in a moment +through my mind, and I followed her at a distance, and when she had +gone about five hundred paces I saw her enter a lonely house of poor +appearance that was enough for me. I returned to the fountain to see +what I could learn about the nun. + +On my way there I lost myself in a maze of conjectures. + +"The too charming and hapless M---- M----," said I to myself, "must +have left her convent, desperate--nay, mad; for why does she still +wear the habit of her order? Perhaps, though, she has got a +dispensation to come here for the waters; that must be the reason why +she has a nun with her, and why she has not left off her habit. At +all events the journey must have been undertaken under false +pretences. Has she abandoned herself to some fatal passion, of which +the result has been pregnancy? She is doubtless perplexed, and must +have been pleased to see me. I will not deceive her expectations; I +will do all in my power to convince her that I am worthy of her." + +Lost in thought I did not notice I had arrived at the fountain, round +which stood the whole host of gamesters. They all crowded round me, +and said how charmed they were to see me still there. I asked the +Chevalier Zeroli after his wife, and he told me she was still abed, +and that it would be a good thing if I would go and make her get up. +I was just going when the doctor of the place accosted me, saying, +that the waters of the Aix would increase my good health. Full of +the one idea, I asked him directly if he were the doctor in +attendance on a pretty nun I had seen. + +"She takes the waters," he replied, "but she does not speak to +anyone." + +"Where does she come from?" + +"Nobody knows; she lives in a peasant's house." + +I left the doctor, and instead of going towards the inn, where the +hussy Zeroli was doubtless waiting for me, I made my way towards the +peasant's house, which already seemed to me the temple of the most +blissful deities, determined to obtain the information I required as +prudently as might be. But as if love had favoured my vows, when I +was within a hundred paces of the cottage I saw the peasant woman +coming out to meet me. + +"Sir," said she, accosting me, "the young nun begs you to return this +evening at nine o'clock; the lay-sister will be asleep then, and she +will be able to speak freely to you." + +There could be no more doubt. My heart leapt with joy. I gave the +country-woman a louis, and promised to be at the house at nine +exactly. + +With the certainty of seeing my dear M---- M---- again I returned to +the inn, and on ascertaining which was Madame Zeroli's room I entered +without ceremony, and told her that her husband had sent me to make +her get up. + +"I thought you were gone?" + +"I am going at two." + +I found her still more enticing in bed than at table. I helped her +to put on her stays, and the sight of her charms inflamed my ardour, +but I experienced more resistance than I had anticipated. I sat down +at the foot of the bed, and told her how fervently I loved her, and +how unhappy I was at not being able to give her marks of my love +before I left. + +"But," said she, laughing, "you have only got to stay." + +"Give me some hope, and I will stay till to-morrow." + +"You are in too much of a hurry, take things more quietly." + +I contented myself with the few favours she granted me, pretending as +usual only to yield to violence, when I was obliged to restrain +myself on the appearance of her husband, who took the precaution of +making a noise before he carne in. As soon as she saw him, she said, +without the slightest perturbation, "I have persuaded the gentleman +to stay tell the day after to-morrow." + +"I am all the more pleased to hear it, my dear," said the chevalier, +"as I owe him his revenge." + +With these words he took up a pack of cards, which came as readily to +his hands as if they had been placed there on purpose, and seating +himself beside his wife, whom he made into the table, he began to +deal. + +I could not draw back, and as my thoughts were distracted I kept on +losing till they came to tell me dinner was ready. + +"I have no time to dress," said the lady, "so I will have my dinner +in bed, if you gentlemen will keep me company." + +How could I refuse? The husband went out to order the dinner, and +feeling myself authorized by the loss of twenty Louis, I told the +hussy that if she would not give me a plain promise to make me happy +that afternoon I should go away when I had had my dinner. + +"Breakfast with me to-morrow morning. We shall be alone." + +After receiving from her certain earnests of her promise, I promised +to stay on. + +We dined by her bedside, and I told Le Duc that I should not be going +till the afternoon of the next day, which made the husband and wife +radiant. When we had done, the lady said she would like to get up; +and I went out, promising to return and play piquet with her. I +proceeded to reline my purse, and I met Desarmoises, who said, + +"I have found out the secret; they gave her coachman two Louis to +substitute a sick horse for his own." + +"It's a matter of give and take," said I; "I am in love with the +chevalier's wife, and I am putting off my departure till I have got +all I want out of her." + +"I am afraid you will have to pay pretty dearly for your pleasure. +However, I will do what I can for your interests." + +I thanked him smilingly, and returned to the lady, whom I left at +eight o'clock under pretext of a violent headache, after having lost +ten louis to her. I reminded her of her promise for next morning at +nine o'clock, and I left her in the midst of the company. + +It was a fine moonlight night as I walked towards the peasant's +house, where I was to see my dear M---- M---- once more. I was +impatient to see what the visit, on which the rest of my life might +depend, would bring forth. + +I had taken the precaution to provide myself with a pair of pistols, +and my sword hung at my side, for I was not wholly devoid of +suspicion in this place, where there were so many adventurers; but at +twenty paces from the cottage I saw the woman coming towards me. She +told me that the nun could not come down, so I must be content to +enter through the window, by means of a ladder which she had placed +there for the purpose. I drew near, and not seeing any light I +should not have easily decided on going up, if I had not heard the +voice I thought I knew so well, saying, "Fear nothing; come." +Besides, the window was not very high up, and there could not be much +danger of a trap. I ascended, and thought for certain that I held my +dear M---- M---- in my arms, as I covered her face with my ardent +kisses. + +"Why," said I, in Venetian, "have you not a light? I hope you are +going to inform me of an event which seems wonderful to me; quick, +dearest, satisfy my impatience." + +The reader will guess my surprise when he learns that on hearing her +voice close to me I found that she was not M---- M----. She told me +that she did not understand Venetian, and that I did not require a +light to tell her what M. de Coudert had decided on doing to save +her from her peril. + +"You surprise me; I do not know M. de Coudert. What! Are you not a +Venetian? Are you not the nun I saw this morning?" + +"Hapless one! I have made a mistake. I am the nun you saw this +morning, but I am French. In the name of God keep my counsel and +begone, for I have nothing to say to you! Whisper, for if the lay- +sister woke up I should be undone." + +"Do not be afraid of my discretion. What deceived me was your exact +likeness to a nun of your order who will be always dear to me: and if +you had not allowed me to see your features I should not have +followed you. Forgive the tenderness I shewed towards you, though +you must think me very audacious." + +"You astonished me very much, but you did not offend me. I wish I +were the nun in whom you are interested. I am on the brink of a +fearful precipice." + +"If ten louis are any good to you, it will be an honour for me to +give you them." + +"Thank you, I have no need of money. Allow me to give you back the +louis you sent me this morning." + +"The louis was for the country-woman. You increase my surprise; pray +tell me what is the misfortune under which you labour, for which +money can do nothing." + +"Perhaps God has sent you to my aid. Maybe you will give me good +advice. Listen to what I am about to tell you." + +"I am at your service, and I will listen with the greatest attention. +Let us sit down." + +"I am afraid there is neither seat nor bed." + +"Say on, then; we will remain standing." + +"I come from Grenoble. I was made to take the veil at Chamberi. Two +years after my profession, M. de Coudert found means to see me. I +received him in the convent garden, the walls of which he scaled, and +at last I was so unfortunate as to become pregnant. The idea of +giving birth to a child at the convent was too dreadful--I should +have languished till I died in a terrible dungeon--and M. de Coudert +thought of a plan for taking me out of the convent. A doctor whom he +gained over with a large sum of money declared that I should die +unless I came here to take the waters, which he declared were the +only cure for my illness. A princess whom M. de Coudert knew was +partly admitted to the secret, and she obtained the leave of absence +for three months from the Bishop of Chamberi, and the abbess +consented to my going. + +"I thus hoped to be delivered before the expiration of the three +months; but I have assuredly made a mistake, for the time draws to an +end and I feel no signs of a speedy delivery. I am obliged to return +to the convent, and yet I cannot do so. The lay-sister who is with +me is a perfect shrew. She has orders not to let me speak to +anybody, and never to let my face be seen. She it was who made me +turn when she saw you following us. I lifted my veil for you to see +that I was she of whom I thought you were in search, and happily the +lay-sister did not notice me. She wants me to return with her to the +convent in three days, as she thinks I have an incurable dropsy. She +does not allow me to speak to the doctor, whom I might, perhaps, have +gained over by telling him the truth. I am only twenty-one, and yet +I long for death." + +"Do not weep so, dear sister, and tell me how you expect to be +delivered here without the lay-sister being aware of it?" + +"The worthy woman with whom I am staying is an angel of goodness. I +have confided in her, and she promised me that when I felt the pangs +coming on she would give that malicious woman a sporific, and thus we +should be freed from all fears of her. By virtue of the drug she now +sleeps soundly in the room under this garret." + +"Why was I not let in by the door?" + +"To prevent the woman's brother seeing you; he is a rude boor." + +"What made you think that I had anything to do with M. de Coudert?" + +"Ten or twelve days ago, I wrote to him and told him of my dreadful +position. I painted my situation with such lively colours that I +thought he must do all in his power to help me. As the wretched +cling to every straw, I thought, when I saw you following me, that +you were the deliverer he had sent." + +"Are you sure he got your letter?" + +"The woman posted it at Anneci." + +"You should write to the princess." + +"I dare not." + +"I will see her myself, and I will see M. de Coudert. In fine, I +will move heaven and earth, I will even go to the bishop, to obtain +an extension of your leave; for it is out of the question for you to +return to the convent in your present situation. You must decide, +for I can do nothing without your consent. Will you trust in me? +If so, I will bring you a man's clothes to-morrow and take you to +Italy with me, and while I live I swear I will care for you." + +For reply, I only heard long-drawn sobs, which distressed me beyond +words, for I felt acutely the situation of this poor creature whom +Heaven had made to be a mother, and whom the cruelty of her parents +had condemned to be a useless nun. + +Not knowing what else to say, I took her hand and promised to return +the next day and hear her decision, for it was absolutely necessary +that she should decide on some plan. I went away by the ladder, and +gave a second louis to the worthy woman, telling her that I should be +with her on the morrow at the same hour, but that I should like to be +able to enter by the door. I begged her to give the lay-sister a +stronger dose of opium, so that there should be no fear of her +awaking while I talked with the young nun. + +I went to bed glad at heart that I had been wrong in thinking that +the nun was M---- M----. Nevertheless the great likeness between +them made me wish to see her nearer at hand, and I was sure that she +would not refuse me the privilege of looking at her the next day. I +smiled at the thought of the ardent kisses I had given her, but I +felt that I could not leave her to her fate. I was glad to find that +I did not need any sensual motive to urge me to a good deed, for as +soon as I found that it was not M---- M---- who had received those +tender kisses I felt ashamed of having given them. I had not even +given her a friendly kiss when I left her. + +In the morning Desarmoises came and told me that all the company, not +seeing me at supper, had been puzzling itself to find out what had +become of me. Madame Zeroli had spoken enthusiastically about me, +and had taken the jests of the two other ladies in good part, +boasting that she could keep me at Aix as long as she remained there +herself. The fact was that I was not amorous but curious where she +was concerned, and I should have been sorry to have left the place +without obtaining complete possession of her, for once at all events. + +I kept my appointment, and entered her room at nine o'clock exactly. +I found her dressed, and on my reproaching her she said that it +should be of no consequence to me whether she were dressed or +undressed. I was angry, and I took my chocolate without so much as +speaking to her. When I had finished she offered me my revenge at +piquet, but I thanked her and begged to be excused, telling her that +in the humour in which she had put me I should prove the better +player, and that I did not care to win ladies' money. So saying I +rose to leave the room. + +"At least be kind enough to take me to the fountain." + +"I think not. If you take me for a freshman, you make a mistake, and +I don't care to give the impression that I am pleased when I am +displeased. You can get whomsoever you please to take you to the +fountain, but as for me I must beg to be excused. Farewell, madam." + +With these words I went out, paying no attention to her efforts to +recall me. + +I found the inn-keeper, and told him that I must leave at three +o'clock without a fail. The lady, who was at her window, could hear +me. I went straight to the fountain where the chevalier asked me +what had become of his wife, and I answered that I had left her in +her room in perfect health. In half an hour we saw her coming with a +stranger, who was welcomed by a certain M. de St. Maurice. Madame +Zeroli left him, and tacked herself on to me, as if there had been +nothing the matter. I could not repulse her without the most +troublesome consequences, but I was very cold. After complaining of +my conduct she said that she had only been trying me, that if I +really loved her I should put off my departure, and that I should +breakfast with her at eight o'clock the next day. I answered coolly +that I would think it over. I was serious all dinner-time, and said +once or twice that I must go at three o'clock, but as I wanted to +find some pretext for staying on account of the nun, I let myself be +persuaded into making a bank at faro. + +I staked all the gold I had, and I saw every face light up as I put +down about four hundred louis in gold, and about six hundred francs +in silver. "Gentlemen," said I, "I shall rise at eight o'clock +precisely." The stranger said, with a smile, that possibly the bank +might not live so long, but I pretended not to understand him. It +was just three o'clock. I begged Desarmoises to be my croupier, and +I began to deal with due deliberation to eighteen or twenty punters, +all professional gamblers. I took a new pack at every deal. + +By five o'clock I had lost money. We heard carriage wheels, and they +said it was three Englishmen from Geneva, who were changing horses to +go on to Chamberi. A moment after they came in, and I bowed. It was +Mr. Fox and his two friends, who had played quinze with me. My +croupier gave them cards, which they received gladly, and went ten +louis, playing on two and three cards, going paroli, seven and the +'va', as well as the 'quinze', so that my bank was in danger of +breaking. However, I kept up my face, and even encouraged them to +play, for, God being neutral, the chances were in my favour. So it +happened, and at the third deal I had cleared the Englishmen out, and +their carriage was ready. + +While I was shuffling a fresh pack of cards, the youngest of them +drew out of his pocket-book a paper which he spewed to his two +companions. It was a bill of exchange. "Will you stake the value of +this bill on a card, without knowing its value?" said he. + +"Yes," I replied, "if you will tell me upon whom it is drawn, and +provided that it does not exceed the value of the bank." + +After a rapid glance at the pile of gold before me, he said, "The +bill is not for so large a sum as your bank, and it is payable at +sight by Zappata, of Turin." + +I agreed, he cut, and put his money on an ace, the two friends going +half shares. I drew and drew and drew, but no ace appeared. I had +only a dozen cards left. + +"Sir," said I, calmly to the punter, "you can draw back if you like." + +"No, go on." + +Four cards more, and still no ace; I had only eight cards left. + +"My lord," said I, "it's two to one that I do not hold the ace, I +repeat you can draw back." + +"No, no, you are too generous, go on." + +I continued dealing, and won; I put the bill of exchange in my pocket +without looking at it. The Englishmen shook me by the hand and went +off laughing. I was enjoying the effect this bold stroke had made on +the company, when young Fox came in and with a roar of laughter +begged me to lend him fifty Louis. I counted them out with the +greatest pleasure, and he paid me them back in London three years +later. + +Everyone was curious to know the value of the bill of exchange, but I +was not polite enough to satisfy their curiosity. It was for eight +thousand Piedmontese francs, as I saw as soon as I was alone. +The Englishmen had brought me good luck, for when they had gone +fortune declared for the bank. I rose at eight o'clock, some ladies +having won a few louis, all the others were dried up. I had won more +than a thousand louis, and I gave twenty-five to Desarmoises, who +jumped for joy. I locked up my money, put my pistols in my pocket, +and set out towards the meeting-place. + +The worthy peasant woman brought me in by the door, telling me that +everybody was asleep, and that she had not found it necessary to +renew the lay-sister's dose, as she was still asleep. + +I was terrified. I went upstairs, and by the light of a single +candle I saw the wretched, veiled figure of the nun, extended upon a +sack which the peasant woman had placed along the wall instead of a +sofa. The candle which lighted this dreary place was fixed in a +bottle. + +"What have you decided on doing?" said I. + +"I have decided on nothing, for an unforeseen incident has confounded +us. The lay-sister has been asleep for eighteen hours." + +"She will die of convulsions or of an apoplectic fit to-night if you +do not call a doctor, who may possibly restore her to life with a +dose of castor oil." + +"We have thought of that, but we did not dare to take that step for +fear of consequences; for whether he restores her or not, he will say +that we have poisoned her." + +"I pity you, upon my soul! Indeed, I believe that it is too late, +and that a doctor could do nothing. One must obey the laws of +prudence and let her die. The mischief is done, and I see no +remedy." + +"At any rate, we ought to think of her soul and send for a priest." + +"A priest would do her no good, as she is in a perfect lethargy; her +soul is safe enough. Besides, an ignorant priest would find out too +much, and would tell the whole story either through malice or +stupidity. It will be time to call a priest when she has ceased to +breathe. You must tell him that she died very suddenly; you must +weep a great deal, and give him a fee, and he will think only of +calming your grief, and nothing about the sudden death." + +"Then we must let her die?" + +"We must leave her to nature." + +"If she dies I will send a messenger to the abbess, who will dispatch +another lay-sister." + +"Yes, and that will give you another ten days. During that time you +may be delivered, and you will confess that every cloud has a silver +lining. Do not grieve so, but let us endeavour to submit to the will +of God. Send for the country-woman, for I must give her some hints +as to her conduct in this delicate matter, on which the honour and +life of all three may depend. For instance, if it were discovered +that I had come here, I might be taken for the poisoner." + +The woman came, and I shewed her how necessary it was for her to be +prudent and discreet. She understood me perfectly, perceived her own +dangerous position, and promised that she would not send for the +priest till she was certain of the sister's death. I then made her +accept ten louis in case of need. + +Seeing herself made rich by my liberality, she kissed my hands, knelt +down, and bursting into tears promised to follow my advice carefully. +When she had left us, the nun began to weep bitterly, accusing +herself of the murder of the lay-sister, and thinking that she saw +hell opening beneath her feet. I sought in vain to calm her; her +grief increased, and at last she fell in a dead faint on the sack. I +was extremely distressed, and not knowing what to do I called to the +woman to bring some vinegar, as I had no essences about me. All at +once I remembered the famous hellebore, which had served me so well +with Madame and, taking the little box, I held it to her nostrils. +It took effect just as the woman brought the vinegar. "Rub her +temples," said I. She took off her cap, and the blackness of her +hair was the only thing that convinced me it was not my fair +Venetian. The hellebore having brought her to her senses, she opened +her large black eyes, and from that moment I fell madly in love with +her. The peasant woman, seeing that she was herself again and out of +danger, went away, and taking her between my arms I covered her with +fiery kisses, in spite of her continuous sneezes. + +"Please let me put on my veil again," said she, "or else I shall be +excommunicated." + +I laughed at her fears, and continued to lavish my burning kisses on +her face. + +"I see you do not believe me, but I assure you that the abbess +threatened me with excommunication if I let myself be seen by a man." + +"Fear these bolts no longer, dear, they cannot hurt you." + +But she sneezed more violently than ever, and fearing lest her +efforts might bring on her delivery I called the woman again, and +left the nun in her care, promising to return at the same hour on the +next day. + +It would not have been like me to leave this interesting creature in +her distress, but my devotion to her cause had no merit, since I was +madly in love with this new M---- M---- with black eyes; and love +always makes men selfish, since all the sacrifices they make for the +beloved object are always ultimately referable to their own desires. + +I had determined, then, to do all in my power for her, and certainly +not to allow her to return to the convent in the state she was in. +I concluded that to save her would be an action pleasing to God, +since God alone could have made her so like my beloved, and God had +willed that I should win a good deal of money, and had made me find +the Zeroli, who would serve as a shield to my actions and baffle the +curiosity of spies. The philosophers and the mystics may perhaps +laugh at me, but what do I care? I have always delighted in +referring all the actions of my life to God, and yet people have +charged me with Atheism! + +Next morning I did not forget the Zeroli, and I went to her room at +eight and found her asleep. Her maid begged me to go in quietly for +fear of awakening her, and then left me and shut the door. I knew my +part, for I remembered how, twenty years before, a Venetian lady, +whose sleep I had foolishly respected, had laughed at me and sent me +about my business. I therefore knew what to do; and having gently +uncovered her, I gave myself up to those delicate preliminary +delights which sweeten the final pleasure. The Zeroli wisely +continued to sleep; but at last, conquered by passion, she seconded +my caresses with greater ardour than my own, and she was obliged to +laugh at her stratagem. She told me that her husband had gone to +Geneva to buy a repeating watch, and that he would not return till +next day, and that she could spend the night with me. + +"Why the night, dearest, while we have the day before us? The night +is for slumber, and in the day one enjoys double bliss, since the +light allows all the senses to be satisfied at once. If you do not +expect anybody, I will pass the whole morning with you." + +"Very good; nobody will interrupt us." + +I was soon in her arms, and for four hours we gave ourselves up to +every kind of pleasure, cheating each other the better to succeed, +and laughing with delight each time we convinced each other of our +love. After the last assault she asked me, in return for her +kindness, to spend three more days at Aix. + +"I promise you," I said, "to stay here as long as you continue giving +me such marks of your love as you have given me this morning." + +"Let us get up, then, and go to dinner." + +"In company, dearest? Look at your eyes." + +"All the better. People will guess what has happened, and the two +countesses will burst with envy. I want everybody to know that it is +for me alone that you are remaining at Aix." + +"I am not worth the trouble, my angel, but so be it; I will gladly +oblige you, even though I lose all my money in the next three days." + +"I should be in despair if you lost; but if you abstain from punting +you will not lose, though you may let yourself be robbed." + +"You may be sure that I know what I am about, and that I shall only +allow ladies to rob me. You have had some money out of me yourself." + +"Yes, but not nearly so much as the countesses, and I am sorry you +allowed them to impose on you, as they no doubt put it down to your +being in love with them." + +"They are quite wrong, poor dears, for neither would have kept me +here a day." + +"I am delighted to hear it. But let me tell you what the Marquis of +St. Maurice was saying about you yesterday." + +"Say on. I hope he did not allow himself any offensive remarks." + +"No; he only said that you should never have offered the Englishman +to be off at eight cards, as you had as much chance as he, and if he +had won he might have thought that you knew the card was there." + +"Very good, but tell the marquis that a gentleman is incapable of +such a thought, and besides I knew the character of the young +nobleman, and I was almost sure he would not accept my offer." + +When we appeared in the dining-room we were received with applause. +The fair Zeroli had the air of regarding me as her property, and I +affected an extremely modest manner. No one dared to ask me to make +a bank after dinner; the purses were too empty, and they contented +themselves with trente-quarante, which lasted the whole day, and +which cost me a score of louis. + +I stole away as usual towards evening, and after having ordered Le +Duc not to leave my room for a moment during my stay at Aix, I went +towards the cottage where the unfortunate nun was no doubt expecting +me anxiously. Soon, in spite of the darkness, I thought I made out +somebody following me. I stopped short, and some persons passed me. +In two or three minutes I went on again, and I saw the same people, +whom I could not have caught up if they had not slackened their pace. +It might all be accidental, but I wanted to be sure about it. I left +the road without losing my reckoning, feeling quite sure of finding +my way when I ceased to be followed; but I soon felt sure that my +steps were dogged, as I saw the same shadowy figures at a little +distance off. I doubled my speed, hid behind a tree, and as soon as +I saw the spies fired a pistol in the air. I looked round shortly +after, saw no one, and went on my way. + +I went upstairs and found the nun in bed, with two candles on the +table. + +"Are you ill?" + +"I was ill for a time, but praised be God! I am now quite well, +having given birth to a fine boy at two o'clock this morning." + +"Where is the child?" + +"Alas! I did but kiss him once, and my good hostess carried him away +I know not where. The Holy Virgin heard my prayers, for my pains, +though sharp, were soon over, and a quarter of an hour after my +delivery I was still sneezing. Tell me whether you are a man or an +angel, for I fear lest I sin in adoring you." + +"This is good news indeed. And how about the lay-sister?" + +She still breathes, but we have no hope that she will recover. Her +face is terribly distorted. We have sinned exceedingly, and God will +punish me for it." + +"No, dearest, God will forgive you, for the Most Holy judges by the +heart, and in your heart you had no evil thoughts. Adore Divine +Providence, which doeth all things well." + +"You console me. The country-woman assures me that you are an angel, +for the powder you gave me delivered me. I shall never forget you, +though I do not know your name." + +The woman then came, and I thanked her for the care she had taken of +the invalid. I again warned her to be prudent, and above all to +treat the priest well when the lay-sister breathed her last, and thus +he would not take notice of anything that might involve leer in +disaster. + +"All will be well," said she, "for no one knows if the lay-sister is +well or ill, or why the lady does not leave her bed." + +"What have you done with the child?" + +"I took him with my own hands to Anneci, where I bought everything +necessary for the well-being of this lady and for the death of the +other one." + +"Doesn't your brother know anything about it?" + +"Lord preserve us--no! He went away yesterday, and will not be back +for a week. We have nothing to fear." + +I gave her another ten louis, begging her to buy some furniture, and +to get me something to eat by the time I came next day. She said she +had still plenty of money left, and I thought she would go mad when I +told her that whatever was over was her own. I thought the invalid +stood in need of rest, and I left her, promising to return at the +same hour on the following day. + +I longed to get this troublesome matter safely over, and I knew that +I could not regard myself as out of the wood till the poor lay-sister +was under the sod. I was in some fear on this account, for if the +priest was not an absolute idiot he must see that the woman had been +poisoned. + +Next morning I went to see the fair Zeroli, and I found her and her +husband examining the watch he had bought her. He came up to me, +took my hand, and said he was happy that his wife had the power to +keep me at Aix. I replied that it was an easy task for her, and a +"bravo" was all he answered. + +The chevalier was one of those men who prefer to pass for good- +natured than foolish husbands. His wife took my arm, and we left him +in his room while we proceeded to the fountain. On the way she said +she would be alone the next day, and that she would no longer indulge +her curiosity in my nocturnal excursions. + +"Oh! it is you who have had me followed, is it?" + +"No, it is I who followed you, but to no effect. However, I did not +think you were so wicked. You frightened me dreadfully! Do you +know, sir, you might have killed me if your shot had not luckily +missed." + +"I missed on purpose, dearest; for though I did not suspect that it +was you, I fired in the air, feeling certain that that would be +enough to scare off the spies." + +"You won't be troubled with them any more." + +"If they like to follow me, perhaps I shall let them, for my walk is +quite innocent. I am always back by ten." + +While we were at table we saw a travelling carriage and six horses +drawn up. It was the Marquis de Prie, with a Chevalier de St. Louis +and two charming ladies, of whom one, as the Zeroli hastened to +inform me, was the Marquis's mistress. Four places were laid, and +while the newcomers were waiting to be served, they were told the +story of my bet with the Englishman. + +The marquis congratulated me, telling me that he had not hoped to +find me at Aix on his return; and here Madame Zeroli put in her word, +and said that if it had not been for her he would not have seen me +again. I was getting used to her foolish talk, and I could only +agree with a good grace, which seemed to delight her intensely +although her husband was present, but he seemed to share her triumph. + +The marquis said that he would make a little bank for me, and feeling +obliged to accept I soon lost a hundred louis. I went to my room to +write some letters, and at twilight I set out to see my nun. + +"What news have you?" + +"The lay-sister is dead, and she is to be buried tomorrow. To-morrow +is the day we were to have returned to the convent. This is the +letter I am sending to the abbess. She will dispatch another +laysister, unless she orders the country-woman to bring me back to +the convent." + +"What did the priest say?" + +"He said the lay-sister died of a cerebral lethargy, which super- +induced an attack of apoplexy." + +"Very good, very good." + +"I want him to say fifteen masses for her, if you will let me?" + +"Certainly, my dear, they will serve as the priest's reward, or +rather as the reward of his happy ignorance." + +I called the peasant woman, and gave her the order to have the masses +said, and bade her tell the priest that the masses were to be said +for the intention of the person who paid for them. She told me that +the aspect of the dead sister was dreadful, and that she had to be +guarded by two women who sprinkled her with holy water, lest witches, +under the form of cats, should come and tear her limb from limb. Far +from laughing at her, I told her she was quite right, and asked where +she had got the laudanum. + +"I got it from a worthy midwife, and old friend of mine. We got it +to send the poor lay-sister to sleep when the pains of child-birth +should come on." + +"When you put the child at the hospital door, were you recognized?" + +"Nobody saw me as I put it into the box, and I wrote a note to say +the child had not been baptized." + +"Who wrote the note?" + +"I did." + +"You will, of course, see that the funeral is properly carried out?" + +"It will only cost six francs, and the parson will take that from two +louis which were found on the deceased; the rest will do for masses +to atone for her having had the money." + +"What! ought she not to have had the two louis?" + +"No," said the nun, "we are forbidden to have any money without the +knowledge of the abbess, under pain of excommunication." + +"What did they give you to come here?" + +"Ten Savoy sols a day. But now I live like a princess, as you shall +see at supper, for though this worthy woman knows the money you gave +her is for herself she lavishes it on me." + +"She knows, dear sister, that such is my intention, and here is some +more to go on with." + +So saying I took another ten louis from my purse, and bade the +country-woman spare nothing for the invalid's comfort. I enjoyed the +worthy woman's happiness; she kissed my hands, and told me that I had +made her fortune, and that she could buy some cows now. + +As soon as I was alone with the charming nun, whose face recalled to +my memory the happy hours I had passed with M---- M----, my +imagination began to kindle, and drawing close to her I began to talk +of her seducer, telling her I was surprised that be had not helped +her in the cruel position in which he had placed her. She replied +that she was debarred from accepting any money by her vow of poverty +and obedience, and that she had given up to the abbess what remained +of the alms the bishop had procured her. + +"As to my state when I was so fortunate as to meet you, I think he +cannot have received my letter." + +"Possibly, but is he a rich or handsome man?" + +"He is rich but certainly not handsome. On the contrary, he is +extremely ugly, deformed, and over fifty." + +"How did you become amorous of a fellow like that?" + +"I never loved him, but he contrived to gain my pity. I thought he +would kill himself, and I promised to be in the garden on the night +he appointed, but I only went there with the intention of bidding him +begone, and he did so, but after he had carried his evil designs into +effect." + +"Did he use violence towards you, then?" + +"No, for that would have been no use. He wept, threw himself on his +knees, and begged so hard, that I let him do what he liked on the +condition that he would not kill himself, and that he would come no +more to the garden." + +"Had you no fear of consequences?" + +"I did not understand anything about it; I always thought that one +could not conceive under three times at least." + +"Unhappy ignorance! how many woes are caused by it! Then he did not +ask you to give him any more assignations?" + +"He often asked me, but I would not grant his request because our +confessor made me promise to withstand him thenceforth, if I wished +to be absolved." + +"Did you tell him the name of the seducer?" + +"Certainly not; the good confessor would not have allowed me to do +so; it would have been a great sin." + +"Did you tell your confessor the state you were in?" + +"No, but he must have guessed it. He is a good old man, who +doubtless prayed to God for me, and my meeting you was, perhaps, the +answer to his prayers." + +I was deeply moved, and for a quarter of an hour I was silent, and +absorbed in my thoughts. I saw that this interesting girl's +misfortune proceeded from her ignorance, her candour, her perfect +innocence, and a foolish feeling of pity, which made her grant this +monster of lubricity a thing of which she thought little because she +had never been in love. She was religious, but from mere habit and +not from reflection, and her religion was consequently very weak. +She abhorred sin, because she was obliged to purge herself of it by +confession under pain of everlasting damnation, and she did not want +to be damned. She had plenty of natural common sense, little wit, +for the cultivation of which she had no opportunities, and she was in +a state of ignorance only pardonable in a nun. On weighing these +facts I foresaw that I should find it a difficult task to gain those +favours which she had granted to Coudert ; her repentance had been +too bitter for her to expose herself to the same danger over again. + +The peasant woman returned, laid the table for two, and brought us +our supper. Everything was new--napkins, plates, glasses, spoons, +knives, etc., and everything was exquisitely clean. The wines were +excellent, and the dishes delightful in their simplicity. We had +roast game, fish, cheese with cream, and very good fruit. I spent an +hour and a half at supper, and drank two bottles of wine as I talked +to the nun, who ate very little. + +I was in the highest spirits, and the woman, delighted with my praise +of her provision, promised I should be served the same way every +evening. + +When I was alone with the nun, whose face filled me with such burning +recollections, I began to speak of her health, and especially of the +inconveniences attached to child-birth. She said she felt quite +well, and would be able to return to Chamberi on foot. "The only +thing that troubles me is my breasts, but the woman assures me that +the milk will recede to-morrow, and that they will then assume their +usual shape." + +"Allow me to examine them, I know something about it." + +"Look!" + +She uncovered her bosom, not thinking it would give me any pleasure, +but wishing to be polite, without supposing I had any concealed +desires. I passed my hands over two spheres whose perfect shape and +whiteness would have restored Lazarus to life. I took care not to +offend her modesty, but in the coolest manner possible asked her how +she felt a little lower down, and as I put the question I softly +extended my hand. However, she kept it back gently, telling me not +to go any further as she still felt a little uneasy. I begged her +pardon, and said I hoped I should find everything quite right by the +next day. + +"The beauty of your bosom," I added, "makes me take a still greater +interest in you." + +So saying I let my mouth meet hers, and I felt a kiss escape as if +involuntarily from her lips. It ran like fire through my veins, my +brain began to whirl, and I saw that unless I took to a speedy flight +I should lose all her confidence. I therefore left her, calling her +"dear daughter" as I bade her farewell. + +It poured with rain, and I got soaked through before I reached my +lodging. This was a bath well fitted to diminish the ardour of my +passion, but it made me very late in rising the next morning. + +I took out the two portraits of M---- M----, one in a nun's dress, +and the other nude, as Venus. I felt sure they would be of service +to me with the nun. + +I did not find the fair Zeroli in her room, so I went to the +fountain, where she reproached me with a tenderness I assessed at its +proper value, and our quarrel was made up in the course of our walk. +When dinner was over the Marquis the Prie made a bank, but as he only +put down a hundred louis I guessed that he wanted to win a lot and +lose a little. I put down also a hundred louis, and he said that it +would be better sport if I did not stake my money on one card only. +I replied that I would stake a louis on each of the thirteen. + +"You will lose." + +"We will see. Here is my hand on the table, and I stake a louis on +each of the thirteen cards." + +According to the laws of probability, I should certainly have lost, +but fate decided otherwise and I won eighty louis. At eight o'clock +I bowed to the company, and I went as usual to the place where my new +love dwelt. I found the invalid ravishing. She said she had had a +little fever, which the country-woman pronounced to be milk fever, +and that she would be quite well and ready to get up by the next day. +As I stretched out my hand to lift the coverlet; she seized it and +covered it with kisses, telling me that she felt as if she must give +me that mark of her filial affection. She was twenty-one, and I was +thirty-five. A nice daughter for a man like me! My feelings for her +were not at all of a fatherly character. Nevertheless, I told her +that her confidence in me, as shewn by her seeing me in bed, +increased my affection for her, and that I should be grieved if I +found her dressed in her nun's clothes next day. + +"Then I will stop in bed," said she; "and indeed I shall be very glad +to do so, as I experience great discomfort from the heat of my +woollen habit; but I think I should please you more if I were +decently dressed; however, as you like it better, I will stop in +bed." + +The country-woman came in at that moment, and gave her the abbess' +letter which her nephew had just brought from Chamberi. She read it +and gave it to me. The abbess told her that she would send two lay- +sisters to bring her back to the convent, and that as she had +recovered her health she could come on-foot, and thus save money +which could be spent in better ways. She added that as the bishop +was away, and she was unable to send the lay-sisters without his +permission, they could not start for a week or ten days. She ordered +her, under pain of the major excommunication, never to leave her +room, never to speak to any man, not even to the master of the house, +and to have nothing to do with anybody except with the woman. She +ended by saying that she was going to have a mass said for the repose +of the departed sister's soul. + +"I am obliged to you for having shewn me this letter, but be pleased +to tell me if I may visit you for the next week or ten days, without +doing hurt to your conscience; for I must tell you I am a man. I +have only stopped in this place because of the lively interest with +which you have inspired me, but if you have the least objection to +receive me on account of the singular excommunication with which you +are threatened, I will leave Aix tomorrow. Speak." + +"Sir, our abbess is lavish of these thunders, and I have already +incurred the excommunication with which she threatens me; but I hope +it will not be ratified by God, as my fault has made me happy and not +miserable. I will be sincere with you; your visits are my only joy, +and that joy is doubled when you tell me you like to come. But if +you can answer my question without a breach of confidence, I should +like to know for whom you took me the first time you saw me; you +cannot imagine how you astonished and frightened me. I have never +felt such kisses as those you lavished on me, but they cannot +increase my sin as I was not a consenting party, and you told me +yourself that you thought you were kissing another." + +"I will satisfy your curiosity. I think I can do so as you are aware +by this time that the flesh is weak, or rather stronger than the +spirit, and that it compels the strongest intellects to commit faults +against right reason. You shall hear the history of an amour that +lasted for two years with the fairest and the best of all the nuns of +Venice." + +"Tell me all, sir. I have fallen myself, and I should be cruel and +unjust if I were to take offence at anything you may tell me, for you +cannot have done anything with her that Coudert did not do to me." + +"I did much more and much less, for I never gave her a child. If I +had been so unfortunate I should have carried her off to Rome, where +we should have fallen at the feet of the Holy Father, who would have +absolved her from her vows, and my dear M---- M---- would now be my +wife." + +"Good heavens M---- M---- is my name." + +This circumstance, which was really a mere coincidence, rendered our +meeting still more wonderful, and astonished me as much as it did +her. Chance is a curious and fickle element, but it often has the +greatest influence on our lives. + +After a brief silence I told her all that had taken place between the +fair Venetian and myself. I painted our amorous combats in a lively +and natural manner, for, besides my recollections, I had her living +picture before my eyes, and I could follow on her features the +various emotions aroused by my recital. When I had finished she +said, + +"But is your M---- M---- really so like me, that you mistook me for +her?" + +Drawing from my pocket-book the portrait in which M---- M---- was +dressed as a nun, I gave it to her, saying, + +"Judge for yourself." + +"She really is; it might pass for my portrait. It is my dress and my +face; it is wonderful. To this likeness I owe all my good fortune. +Thanks be to God that you do not love me as you loved her, whom I am +glad to call my sister. There are indeed two M---- M----s. Mighty +Providence, all Thy least ways are wonderful, and we are at best +poor, weak, ignorant mortals." + +The worthy country-woman came up and have us a still better supper +than on the previous night. The invalid only ate soup, but she +promised to do better by the following evening. + +I spent an hour with her after supper, and I convinced her by my +reserve that she had made a mistake in thinking that I only loved her +as a daughter. Of her own accord she shewed me that her breast had +regained its usual condition. I assured myself of the fact by my +sense of touch, to which she made no opposition, not thinking that I +could be moved by such a trifle. All the kisses which I lavished on +her lips and eyes she put down to the friendship for her. She said, +smiling, that she thanked God she was not fair like her sister, and I +smiled myself at her simplicity. + +But I could not keep up this sort of thing for long, and I had to be +extremely careful. As soon as I felt that passion was getting the +upper hand, I gave her a farewell kiss and went away. When I got +home Le Duc gave me a note from Madame Zeroli, who said she would +expect me at the fountain, as she was going to breakfast with the +marquis's mistress. + +I slept well, but in my dreams I saw again and again the face of the +new M---- M----. Next day, as soon as I got to the fountain, Madame +Zeroli told me that all the company maintained that I ought to have +lost in playing on thirteen cards at once, as it was not true that +one card won four times in each deal; however, the marquis, though he +agreed with the rest, had said that he would not let me play like +that again. + +"I have only one objection to make to that--namely, that if I wanted +to play in the same way again he could only prevent me by fighting +for it." + +"His mistress swears she will make you play in the usual way." + +I smiled, and thanked her for her information. + +When I got back to the inn I played a game of quinze with the +marquis, and lost fifty louis; afterwards I let myself be persuaded +to hold a bank. I put down five hundred louis, and defied fortune. +Desarmoises was my croupier, and I warned the company that every card +must have the stake placed on it, and that I should rise at half-past +seven. I was seated between two ladies. I put the five hundred +louis on the board, and I got change from the inn-keeper to the +amount of a hundred crowns, to amuse the ladies with. But something +happened. All the cards before me were loose packs, and I called for +new ones. The inn-keeper said he had sent to Chamberi for a hundred +packs, and that the messenger would be back soon. + +"In the meanwhile," said he, "you can use the cards on the table, +which are as good as new." + +"I want them new, not as good as new. I have my prejudices, and they +are so strong as to be invincible. In the meanwhile I shall remain a +spectator, though I am sorry to keep the ladies waiting." + +Nobody dared say a word, and I rose, after replacing my money in my +cash-box. The Marquis de Prie took the bank, and played splendidly. +I stood beside Madame Zeroli, who made me her partner, and gave me +five or six Louis the next day. The messenger who was to be back +soon did not return till midnight, and I thanked my stars for the +escape I had had, for in such a place, full of professional +gamesters, there are people whose eyes are considerably sharper than +a lynx's. I put the money back in my room, and proceeded on my usual +way. + +I found my fair nun in bed, and asked her, + +"How do you feel to-day, madam?" + +"Say daughter, that name is so sweet to me that I would you were my +father that I might clasp you in my arms without fearing anyone." + +"Well, my dear daughter, do not fear anything, but open your arms to +me." + +"I will; we will embrace one another." + +"My little ones are prettier than they were yesterday let me suck +them." + +"You silly papa, you are drinking your daughter's milk." + +"It is so sweet, darling, and the little drop I tasted has made me +feel so happy. You cannot be angry at my enjoying this harmless +privilege." + +"Of course I am not angry; you delighted me. But I shall have to +call you baby, not papa." + +"How glad I am to find you in better spirits to-night!" + +"You have 'given me back my happiness, and I feel at peace once more. +The country-woman told me that in a few days I should be just the +same as if I had never seen Coudert." + +"That is not quite true; how about your stomach, for instance?" + +"Be quiet; you can't know anything about such things, and I am quite +astonished myself." + +"Let me see." + +"Oh, no; you mustn't see, but you may feel." + +"All right." + +"Oh! please don't go there." + +"Why not? You can't be made differently from your sister, who would +be now about thirty. I want to shew you her portrait naked." + +"Have you got it with you? I should so like to see it." + +I drew it out and gave it to her. She admired it, kissed it, and +asked me if the painter had followed nature in all respects. + +"Certainly," said I. "She knew that such a picture would give me +pleasure." + +"It is very fine. It is more like me than the other picture. But I +suppose the long hair is only put in to please you?" + +"Not at all. Italian nuns are allowed to wear their hair as long as +they please, provided they do not shew it. + +"We have the same privilege. Our hair is cut once, and then we may +let it grow as long as we like." + + +"Then you have long hair?" + +"As long as in the picture; but you would not like my hair as it is +black." + +"Why, black is my favourite colour. In the name of God, let me see +it." + +"You ask me in God's name to commit a sin; I shall incur another +excommunication, but I cannot refuse you anything. You shall see my +hair after supper, as I don't want to scandalize the countrywoman." + +"You are right; I think you are the sweetest of your sex. I shall +die of grief when you leave this cottage to return to your sad +prison." + +"I must indeed return and do penance for my sins." + +"I hope you have the wit to laugh at the abbess's silly +excommunications?" + +"I begin not to dread them so much as I used to." + +"I am delighted to hear it, as I see you will make me perfectly happy +after supper." + +The country-woman came up, and I gave her another ten louis ; but it +suddenly dawned upon me that she took me for a madman. To disabuse +her of this idea I told her that I was very rich, and that I wanted +to make her understand that I could not give her enough to testify my +gratitude to her for the care she had taken of the good nun. She +wept, kissed my hand, and served us a delicious supper. The nun ate +well and drank indifferently, but I was in too great a hurry to see +the beautiful black hair of this victim to her goodness of heart, and +I could not follow her example. The one appetite drove out the +other. + +As soon as we were relieved of the country-woman's presence, she +removed her hood, and let a mass of ebon hair fall upon her alabaster +shoulders, making a truly ravishing contrast. She put the portrait +before her, and proceeded to arrange her hair like the first M---- +M----. + +"You are handsomer than your sister," said I, "but I think she was +more affectionate than you." + +"She may have been more affectionate, but she had not a better +heart." + +"She was much more amorous than you." + +"I daresay ; I have never been in love." + +"That is strange; how about your nature and the impulse of the +senses?" + +"We arrange all that easily at the convent. We accuse ourselves to +the confessor, for we know it is a sin, but he treats it as a +childish fault, and absolves us without imposing any penances." + +"He knows human nature, and makes allowances for your sad position." + +"He is an old man, very learned, and of ascetic habits, but he is all +indulgence. It will be a sad day when we lose him." + +"But in your amorous ,combats with another nun, don't you feel as if +you would like her to change into a man?" + +"You make me laugh. To be sure, if my sweetheart became a man I +should not be sorry, but we do not desire such a miracle." + +"That is, perhaps, through a coldness of temperament. In that your +sister was better, for she liked me much more than C---- C----, and +you do not like me as well as the sweetheart you left behind you at +the convent." + +"Certainly not, for with you I should violate my own chastity and +expose myself to consequences I tremble to think of." + +"You do not love me, then?" + +"What are you saying? I adore you, and I am very sorry you are not a +woman." + +"I love you too, but your desire makes me laugh; for I would rather +not be turned into a woman to please you, especially as I expect I +should not think you nearly as beautiful. Sit down, my dear, and let +me see your fine hair flowing over your beautiful body." + +"Do you want me to take off my chemise?" + +"Of course; how handsome you look without it. Let me suck your +pretty breasts, as I am your baby." + +She granted me this privilege, and looking at me with a face full of +pleasure, she allowed me to press her naked body to my breast, not +seeing, or pretending not to see, the acuteness of my enjoyment. She +then said, + +"If such delights as these were allowed friendship, I should say it +is better than love; for I have never experienced so great pleasure +as when you put your lips to my bosom. Let me do the same to you." + +"I wish you could, but you will find nothing there." + +"Never mind; it will amuse us." + +After she had fulfilled her desire, we spent a quarter of an hour in +mutual embraces, and my excitement was more than I could bear. + +"Tell me truly," said I, "amidst our kisses, amidst these ecstacies +which we call child-like, do you not feel a desire for something +more?" + +"I confess that I do, but such desires are sinful; and as I am sure +that your passions are as high as mine, I think we had better stop +our agreeable employment; for, papa dear, our friendship is becoming +burning love, is it not?" + +"Yes, love, and love that cannot be overcome." + +"I know it." + +"If you know it, let us perform to love the sweetest of all +sacrifices." + +"No, no; on the contrary, let us stop and be more prudent in the +future, lest we become the victims of love. If you love me, you +should say so too." + +With these words she slipped gently from my arms, put back her +beautiful hair under her cap, and when I had helped her on with her +chemise, the coarseness of which horrified me, I told her she might +calm herself. I told her how sorry I felt to see her delicate body +frayed by so coarse a stuff, and she told me it was of the usual +material, and that all the nuns wore chemises of the same kind. + +My mind was in a state of consternation, for the constraint I had +imposed on myself seemed much greater than the utmost pleasure I +could have gained. I neither determined on persevering in nor on +abandoning the pursuit; all I wanted was to be sure that I should not +encounter the least resistance. A folded rose-leaf spoilt the repose +of the famous Smindyrides, who loved a soft bed. I preferred, +therefore, to go away, than to risk finding the rose-leaf which +troubled the voluptuous Sybarite. I left the cottage in love and +unhappy, and as I did not go to bed till two o'clock in the morning I +slept till mid-day. + +When I woke up Le Duc gave me a note which he should have given me +the night before. He had forgotten it, and I was not sorry. The +note came from Madame Zeroli, who said she would expect me at nine +o'clock in the morning, as she would be alone. She told me that she +was going to give a supper-party, that she was sure I would come, and +that as she was leaving Aix directly after, she counted on my coming +too--at any rate, as far as Chamberi. Although I still liked her, +her pretensions made me laugh. It was too late now to be with her at +nine, I could not go to her supper-party because of my fair nun, whom +I would not have left just then for the seraglio of the Grand Turk; +and it was impossible for me to accompany her to Chamberi, as when I +came back I might no longer find the only object which kept me at +Aix. + +However, as soon as I had finished dressing, I went to see her and +found her furious. I excused myself by saying that I had only had +her letter for an hour, but she went away without giving me time to +tell her that I could not sup with her or go to Chamberi with her. +She scowled at me at table, and when the meal was over the Marquis de +Prie told me that they had some new cards, and that everybody was +longing to see me make a bank. I went for my money, and I made a +bank of five hundred louis. At seven o'clock I had lost more than +half that sum, but for all that I put the rest in my pocket and rose +from the table. + +After a sad glance in the direction of Madame Zeroli I went to the +cottage, where I found my angel in a large new bed, with a small but +pretty bed beside it which was meant for me. I laughed at the +incongruity of these pieces of furniture with our surroundings, but +by way of thanking the thoughtful country-woman I drew fifty louis +from my purse and gave them to her, telling her it was for the +remainder of the time the lady was with her, and I told her to spend +no more money in furniture. + +This was done in true gamester fashion. I had lost nearly three +hundred louis, but I had risked more than five hundred, and I looked +on the difference as pure profit. If I had gained as much as I had +lost I should probably have contented myself with giving her ten +louis, but I fancied I was losing the fifty louis on a card. I have +always liked spending money, but I have never been careless with it +except in gaming. + +I was in an ecstasy to see the face of my M---- M----light up with +delight and astonishment. + +"You must be very rich," said she. + +"Don't think it, dearest, but I love you passionately; and not being +able to give you anything by reason of your unfortunate vow of +poverty, I lavish what I possess on this worthy woman, to induce her +to spare nothing for your comfort while you are here. Perhaps, too-- +though it is not a definite thought--I hope that it will make you +love me more." + +"How can I love you more than I do? The only thing that makes me +unhappy is the idea of returning to the convent." + +"But you told me yesterday that it was exactly that idea which made +you happy." + +"I have changed my mind since yesterday. I passed a cruel night, for +as soon as I fell asleep I was in your arms, and I awoke again and +again on the point of consummating the greatest of crimes." + +"You did not go through such a struggle before committing the same +crime with a man you did--not love." + +"It is exactly because I did not love him that my sin struck me as +venial. Do you understand what I mean?" + +"It's a piece of superstitious metaphysics, but I understand you +perfectly." + +"You have made me happy, and I feel very grateful to you, and I feel +glad and certain of conquering when I reflect that your situation is +different to mine." + +"I will not dispute it with you, although I am sorry for what you +say." + +"Why?" + +"Because you think yourself in duty bound to refuse caresses which +would not hurt you, and which would give me new life and happiness." + +"I have thought it over." + +"Are you weeping?" + +"Yes, and what is more, these tears are dear to me." + +"I do not understand." + +"I have two favours to ask of you." + +"Say on, and be sure you will obtain what you ask." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +End of My Adventure with the Nun from Chamberi--My Flight from Aix + + +"Yesterday," said the charming nun, "you left in my hands the two +portraits of my Venetian sister. I want you to give them to me." + +"They are yours." + +"I thank you. My second favour is, that you will be good enough to +take my portrait in exchange; you shall have it to-morrow." + +"I shall be delighted. It will be the most precious of all my +jewels, but I wonder how you can ask me to take it as a favour, +whereas you are doing me a favour I should never have dared to +demand. How shall I make myself worthy of giving you my portrait?" + +"Ah, dearest! it would be a dear possession, but God preserve me +from having it at the convent!" + +"I will get myself painted under the costume of St. Louis of Gonzaga, +or St. Anthony of Padua." + +"I shall be damned eternally." + +"We will say no more about it." + +She had on a dimity corset, trimmed with red ribbon, and a cambric +chemise. I was surprised, but politeness did not allow me to ask +where they came from, so I contented myself with staring at them. +She guessed my thoughts, and said, smilingly, that it was a present +from the countrywoman. + +"Seeing her fortune made, the worthy woman tries every possible way +to convince her benefactor that she is grateful to him. Look at the +bed; she was certainly thinking of you, and look at these fine +materials. I confess I enjoy their softness extremely. I shall +sleep better to-night if I am not plagued by those seductive dreams +which tormented me last night." + +"Do you think that the bed and the fine linen will deliver you from +the dreams you fear?" + +"No doubt they will have a contrary effect, for softness irritates +the passions. I shall leave everything with the good woman. I do +not know what they would say if I took them with me to the convent." + +"You are not so comfortable there?" + +"Oh, no! A straw bed, a couple of blankets, and sometimes, as a +great favour, a thin mattress and two coarse sheets. But you seem +sad; you were so happy yesterday." + +"How can I be happy when I can no longer toy with you without making +you unhappy." + +"You should have said without giving me the greatest delight." + +"Then will you consent to receive pleasure in return for that which +you give me?" + +"But yours is innocent and mine is not." + +"What would you do, then, if mine and yours were the same?" + +"You might have made me wretched yesterday, for I could not have +refused you anything." + +"Why wretched? You would have had none of those dreams, but would +have enjoyed a quiet night. I am very sorry the peasant woman has +given you that corset, as otherwise I might at least have seen my +little pets without fear of bad dreams." + +"But you must not be angry with the good woman, for she knows that a +corset is easy to unlace. And I cannot bear to see you sad." + +With these words she turned her ardent gaze upon me, and I covered +her with kisses which she returned with interest. The country-woman +came up to lay the pretty new table, just as I was taking off her +corset without her offering the least resistance. + +This good omen put me in high spirits, but as I looked at her I saw a +shadow passing across her face. I took care not to ask her the +reason, for I guessed what was the matter, and I did not wish to +discuss those vows which religion and honour should have made +inviolable. To distract her mind from these thoughts, I made her eat +by the example I set, and she drank the excellent claret with as much +pleasure as I, not thinking that as she was not used to it it would +put her in a frame of mind not favourable to continence. But she did +not notice this, for her gaiety made her look prettier than before, +and aroused her passions. + +When we were alone I congratulated her on her high spirits, telling +her that my sadness had fled before her gaiety, and that the hours I +could spend with her would be all too short. + +"I should be blithe," said she, "if it were only to please you." + +"Then grant me the favour you accorded me yesterday evening." + +"I would rather incur all the excommunications in the world than run +the risk of appearing unjust to you. Take me." + +"So saying, she took off her cap, and let down her beautiful hair. I +unlaced her corset, and in the twinkling of an eye I had before me +such a siren as one sees on the canvas of Correggio. I could not +look upon her long without covering her with my burning kisses, and, +communicating my ardour, before long she made a place for me beside +herself. I felt that there was no time for thinking, that nature had +spoken out, and that love bade me seize the opportunity offered by +that delicious weakness. I threw myself on her, and with my lips +glued to hers I pressed her between my amorous arms, pending the +moment of supreme bliss. + +But in the midst of these joys, she turned her head, closed her +eyelids, and fell asleep. I moved away a little, the better to +contemplate the treasures that love displayed before me. The nun +slept, as I thought; but even if her sleep was feigned, should I be +angry with her for the stratagem? Certainly not; true or feigned, +the sleep of a loved one should always be respected by a delicate +lover, although there are some pleasures he may allow himself. If +the sleep is real there is no harm done, and if it is put on the +lover only responds to the lady's desires. All that is necessary is +so to manage one's caresses that they are pleasant to the beloved +object. But M---- M---- was really asleep; the claret had numbed her +senses, and she had yielded to its influence without any ulterior +motives. While I gazed at her I saw that she was dreaming. Her lips +uttered words of which I could not catch the meaning, but her +voluptuous aspect told me of what she dreamt. I took off my clothes; +and in two minutes I had clasped her fair body to mine, not caring +much whether she slept on or whether I awoke her and brought our +drama to a climax, which seemed inevitable. + +I was not long uncertain, for the instinctive movements she made when +she felt the minister that would fain accomplish the sacrifice at the +door of the sanctuary, convinced me that her dream still lasted, and +that I could not make her happier than by changing it into reality. +I delicately moved away all obstacles, and gently and by degrees +consummated this sweet robbery, and when at last I abandoned myself +to all the force of passion, she awoke with a sigh of bliss, +murmuring, + +"Ah! it is true then." + +"Yes, my angel! are you happy?" + +For all reply she drew me to her and fastened her lips on mine, and +thus we awaited the dawn of day, exhausting all imaginable kinds of +pleasure, exciting each other's desires, and only wishing to prolong +our enjoyment. + +"Alas!" said she, "I am happy now, but you must leave me till the +evening. Let us talk of our happiness, and enjoy it over again." + +"Then you do not repent having made me a happy man?" + +"No; it is you who have made me happy. You are an angel from heaven. +We loved, we crowned our love; I cannot have done aught to offend +God. I am free from all my fears. We have obeyed nature and our +destinies. Do you love me still?" + +"Can you ask me? I will shew you to-night." + +I dressed myself as quickly as possible while we talked of our love, +and I left her in bed, bidding her rest. + +It was quite light when I got home. Le Duc had not gone to bed, and +gave me a letter from the fair Zeroli, telling me that it had been +delivered at eleven o'clock. I had not gone to her supper, and I had +not escorted her to Chamberi; I had not had time to give her a +moment's thought. I was sorry, but I could not do anything. I +opened her letter which consisted of only six lines, but they were +pregnant ones. She advised me never to go to Turin, for if I went +there she would find means to take vengeance on me for the dastardly +affront I had put upon her. She reproached me with having put her to +public shame, said I had dishonoured her, and vowed she would never +forgive me. I did not distress myself to any great extent; I tore up +the friendly missive, and after I had had my hair done I went to the +fountain. + +Everybody flew at me for not having been at Madame Zeroli's supper. +I defended myself as best I could, but my excuses were rather tame, +about which I did not trouble myself. I was told that all was known, +and this amused me as I was aware that nothing was known. The +marquis's mistress took hold of my arm, and told me, without any +circumlocution, that I had the reputation of being inconstant, and by +way of reply I observed politely that I was wrongfully accused, but +that if there was any ground for the remark it was because I had +never served so sweet a lady as herself. She was flattered by my +compliment, and I bit my lip when I heard her ask in the most +gracious manner why I did not breakfast sometimes with the marquis. + +"I was afraid of disturbing him," said I. + +"How do you mean?" + +"I should be interrupting him in his business." + +"He has no business, and he would be delighted to see you. Come to- +morrow, he always breakfasts in my room" + +This lady was the widow of a gentleman of quality; she was young, +undoubtedly pretty, and possessing in perfection the jargon of good +society; nevertheless, she did not attract me. After recently +enjoying the fair Zeroli, and finding my suit with the fair nun at +the height of its prosperity, I was naturally hard to please, and in +plain words--I was perfectly contented with my situation. For all +that, I had foolishly placed myself in such a position that I was +obliged to give her to understand that she had delighted me by her +preference. + +She asked the marquis if she could return to the inn. + +"Yes," said he, "but I have some business in hand, and cannot come +with you." + +"Would you be kind enough to escort me?" said she to me. I bowed in +assent. + +On the way she told me that if Madame Zeroli were still there she +would not have dared to take my arm. I could only reply by +equivocating, as I had no wish to embark in a fresh intrigue. +However, I had no choice; I was obliged to accompany her to her room +and sit down beside her; but as I had had no sleep the night before I +felt tired and began to yawn, which was not flattering for the lady. +I excused myself to the best of my ability, telling her that I was +ill, and she believed me or pretended to believe me. But I felt +sleep stealing upon me, and I should have infallibly dropped off if +it had not been for my hellebore, which kept me awake by making me +sneeze. + +The marquis came in, and after a thousand compliments he proposed a +game of quinze. I begged him to excuse me, and the lady backed me +up, saying I could not possibly play in the midst of such a sneezing +fit. We went down to dinner, and afterwards I easily consented to +make a bank, as I was vexed at my loss of the day before. As usual I +staked five hundred louis, and about seven o'clock, though two-thirds +of the bank had gone, I announced the last deal. The marquis and two +other heavy gamesters then endeavoured to break the bank, but fortune +turned, and I not only got back my losses but won three hundred Louis +besides. Thereupon I rose, promising the company to begin again next +day. All the ladies had won, as Desarmoises had orders to let them +play as they liked up to a certain limit. + +I locked up my money, and warning my faithful Spaniard that I should +not be coming back, I went to my idol, having got wet through on the +way, and being obliged to undress as soon as I arrived. The good +woman' of the house took care to dry my clothes. + +I found the fair nun dressed in her religious habit, and lying on the +small bed. + +"Why are you not in your own bed, dearest?" + +"Because I feel quite well again, my darling, and I wished to sup +with you at table. We will go to bed afterwards, if that will give +you any pleasure." + +"It will give me pleasure if you share in my delight." + +"Alas! I am undone, and I shall doubtless die when I have to leave +you." + +"Do not leave me, sweetheart; come with me to Rome; and leave the +matter in my hands. I will make you my wife, and we will live +happily together ever after." + +"That would be too great a bliss, but I could never make up my mind +to it; say no more about it." + +I was sure of spending a delicious night--in the possession of all +her charms, and we stayed an hour at table, seasoning the dishes with +sweet converse. When we had done, the woman came up, gave her a +packet, and went away again, wishing us good night. + +"What does this packet contain, darling?" + +"It is the present I have got for you-my portrait, but you must not +see it till I am in bed." + +"I will indulge you in that fancy, although I am very curious to see +the portrait." + +"You will say I am right afterwards." + +I wanted to undress her myself, and she submitted like a lamb. When +she was in bed, she opened the packet, and shewed me her portrait, +naked, and very like the naked portrait of M---- M----. I praised +the painter for the excellence of the copy he had made; nothing was +altered but the colour of the hair and eyes. + +"It isn't a copy," she said, "there would not have been time. He +only made the eyes and hair black, and the latter more abundant. +Thus you have in it a portrait of the first and also of the second +M---- M----, in whom you must forget the first. She has also +vanished from the clothed portrait, for you see the nun has black +eyes. I could shew this picture to anyone as my portrait." + +"You do not know how precious your present is to me! Tell me, +dearest, how you succeeded in carrying out your plan so well." + +"I told the country-woman about it yesterday morning, and she said +that she had a foster-son at Anneci, who was a miniature painter. +Through him she sent the two miniatures to a more skilful painter at +Geneva, who made the change you see for four or five Louis ; he was +probably able to do it in two or three hours. I entrusted the two +portraits to him, and you see how well he did his work. The woman +has no doubt just received them, and to-morrow she may be able to +tell you more about it." + +"She is really a wonderful woman. I will indemnify her for the +expense. But now tell me why you did not want me to see the portrait +before you were in bed?" + +"Guess." + +"Because I can now see you in the same posture as that in which you +are represented." + +"Exactly." + +"It is an excellent idea; only love can have given it you. But you +must wait till I am in the same state." + +When we were both in a state of nature, exactly like Adam and Eve +before they tasted the fatal apple, I placed her in the position of +the portrait, and guessing my intention from my face she opened her +arms for me to come to her; but I asked her to wait a moment, for I +had a little packet too, which contained something she would like. +I then drew from my pocket-book a little article of transparent skin, +about eight inches long, with one opening, which was ornamented with +a red rosette. I gave her this preventive sheath, and she looked, +admired, and laughed loudly, asking me if I had used such articles +with her Venetian sister. "I will put it on myself; you don't know +how I shall enjoy it. Why didn't you use one last night? How could +you have forgotten it? Well, I shall be very wretched if anything +comes of it. What shall I do in four or five months, when my +condition becomes past doubt?" + +"Dearest, the only thing to do is not to think of it, for if the +damage is done, there is no cure for it; but from my experience and +knowledge of the laws of nature I expect that our sweet combats of +last night will probably have no troublesome consequences. It has +been stated that after child-birth a woman cannot conceive afresh +without having seen something which I expect you have not seen." + +"No, God be thanked!" + +"Good. Then let us not give any thought to the dismal future lest we +lose our present bliss." + +"I am quite comforted; but I can't understand why you are afraid to- +day of what you were not afraid yesterday; my state is the same." + +"The event has sometimes given the lie to the most eminent +physicians. Nature, wiser than they, has exceptions to her rules, +let us not defy them for the future, but let us not trouble ourselves +if we have defied there in the past." + +"I like to hear you talk so sagely. Yes, we will be prudent whatever +it costs. There you are, hooded like a mother abbess, but in spite +of the fineness of the sheath I like the little fellow better quite +naked. I think that this covering degrades us both." + +"You are right, it does. But let us not dwell on these ideas which +will only spoil our pleasure." + +"We will enjoy our pleasure directly; let me be reasonable now, for I +have never thought of these matters before. Love must have invented +these little sheaths, but it must first have listened to the voice of +prudence, and I do not like to see love and prudence allied." + +"The correctness of your arguments surprises me, but we will +philosophize another time." + +"Wait a minute. I have never seen a man before, and I have never +wished to enjoy the sight as much as now. Ten months ago I should +have called that article an invention of the devil; but now I look +upon the inventor as a benefactor, for if my wretched hump-back had +provided himself with such a sheath he would not have exposed me to +the danger of losing my honour and my life. But, tell me, how is +that the makers of these things remain unmolested; I wonder they are +not found out, excommunicated, or heavily fined, or even punished +corporeally, if they are Jews as I expect. Dear me, the maker of +this one must have measured you badly! Look! it is too large here, +and too small there; it makes you into a regular curve. What a +stupid the fellow must be, he can't know his own trade! But what is +that?" + +"You make me laugh; it's all your fault. You have been feeling and +fondling, and you see the natural consequence. I knew it would be +so." + +"And you couldn't keep it back a minute. It is going on now. I am +so sorry; it is a dreadful pity." + +"There is not much harm done, so console yourself." + +"How can I? you are quite dead. How can you laugh?" + +"At your charming simplicity. You shall see in a moment that your +charms will give me new life which I shall not lose so easily." + +"Wonderful! I couldn't have believed it!" + +I took off the sheath, and gave her another, which pleased her +better, as it seemed to fit me better, and she laughed for joy as she +put it on. She knew nothing of these wonders. Her thoughts had been +bound in chains, and she could not discover the truth before she knew +me; but though she was scarcely out of Egypt she shewed all the +eagerness of an enquiring and newly emancipated spirit. "But how if +the rubbing makes the sheath fall off?" said she. I explained to her +that such an accident could scarcely happen, and also told her of +what material the English made these articles. + +After all this talking, of which my ardour began to weary, we +abandoned ourselves to love, then to sleep, then to love again, and +so on alternately till day-break. As I was leaving, the woman of the +house told us that the painter had asked four louis, and that she had +give two louis to her foster-son. I gave her twelve, and went home, +where I slept till morn, without thinking of breakfasting with the +Marquis de Prie, but I think I should have given him some notice of +my inability to come. His mistress sulked with me all dinner-time, +but softened when I allowed myself to be persuaded into making a +bank. However, I found she was playing for heavy stakes, and I had +to check her once or twice, which made her so cross that she went to +hide her ill-temper in a corner of the hall. However, the marquis +won, and I was losing, when the taciturn Duke of Rosebury, his tutor +Smith, and two of his fellow-countrymen, arrived from Geneva. He +came up to me and said, "How do you do?" and without another word +began to play, inviting his companions to follow his example. + +Seeing my bank in the last agony I sent Le Duc to my room for the +cash-box, whence I drew out five rolls of a hundred louis each. The +Marquis de Prie said, coolly, that he wouldn't mind being my partner, +and in the same tone I begged to be excused. He continued punting +without seeming to be offended at my refusal and when I put down the +cards and rose from the table he had won two hundred louis; but all +the others had lost, especially one of the Englishmen, so that I had +made a profit of a thousand louis. The marquis asked me if I would +give him chocolate in my room next morning, and I replied that I +should be glad to see him. I replaced my cash-box in my room, and +proceeded to the cottage, pleased with the day's work and feeling +inclined to crown it with love. + +I found my fair friend looking somewhat sad, and on my enquiring the +reason she told me that a nephew of the country-woman's, who had come +from Chamberi that morning, had told her that he had heard from a +lay-sister of the same convent, whom he knew, that two sisters would +start at day-break in two days' time to fetch her; this sad news, she +said, had made her tears flow fast. + +"But the abbess said the sisters could not start before ten days had +expired." + +"She must have changed her mind." + +"Sorrow intrudes into our happy state. Will you be my wife? Will +you follow me to Rome and receive absolution from your vows. You may +be sure that I shall have a care for your happiness." + +"Nay, I have lived long enough; let me return to my tomb." + +After supper I told the good woman that if she could rely on her +nephew, she would do well to send him at once to Chamberi with orders +to return directly the lay-sisters started, and to endeavour to reach +Aix two hours before them. She told me that I might reckon on the +young man's silence, and on his carrying out my orders. I quieted in +this way the charming nun's alarm, and got into bed with her, feeling +sad though amorous; and on the pretext that she required rest I left +her at midnight, as I wanted to be at home in the morning since I had +an engagement with the marquis. In due course he arrived with his +mistress, two other ladies, and their husbands or lovers. + +I did not limit myself to giving them chocolate; my breakfast +consisted of all the luxuries the place afforded. When I had got rid +of my troublesome company, I told Le Duc to shut my door, and to tell +everybody that I was ill in bed and could not see any visitors. I +also warned him that I should be away for two days, and that he must +not leave my room a moment till I came back. Having made these +arrangements, I slipped away unperceived and went to my mistress, +resolved not to leave her till half an hour before the arrival of the +lay-sisters. + +When she saw me and heard that I was not going to leave her till she +went away, she jumped for joy; and we conceived the idea of not +having any dinner that we might enjoy our supper the better. + +"We will go to bed after supper," said she, "and will not get up till +the messenger brings the fatal news that the lay-sisters have +started." + +I thought the idea an excellent one, and I called the, woman of the +house to tell her of our arrangements, and she promised to see that +we were not disturbed. + +We did not find the time long, for two passionate lovers find plenty +to talk about since their talk is of themselves. And besides our +caresses, renewed again and again, there was something so mysterious +and solemn in our situation that our souls and our senses were +engaged the whole time. + +After a supper which would have pleased a Lucullus, we spent twelve +hours in giving each other proofs, of our passionate love, sleeping +after our amorous struggles, and waking only to renew the fight. The +next day we rose to refresh ourselves, and after a good dinner, +mashed down by some excellent Burgundy, we went to bed again; but at +four the country-woman came to tell us that the lay-sisters would +arrive about six. We had nothing now to look for in the future, the +die was cast, and we began our farewell caresses. I sealed the last +with my blood. My first M---- M---- had seen it, and my second +rightly saw it also. She was frightened, but I calmed her fears. I +then rose, and taking a roll containing fifty louis I begged her to +keep them for me, promising to come for them in two years, and take +them from her hands through the grating of her terrible prison. She +spent the last quarter of an hour in tears, and mine were only +restrained lest I should add to her grief. I cut off a piece of her +fleece and a lock of her beautiful hair, promising her always to bear +them next my heart. + +I left her, telling the country-woman that she should see me again +the next day, and I went to bed as soon as I got home. Next morning +I was on the way to Chamberi. At a quarter of a league's distance +from Aix I saw my angel slowly walking along. As soon as the lay- +sisters were near enough they asked an alms in the name of God. I +gave them a Louis, but my saint did not look at me. + +With a broken heart I went to the good countrywoman, who told me that +M---- M---- had gone at day-break, bidding her to remind me of the +convent grating. I kissed the Worthy woman, and I gave her nephew +all the loose silver I had about me, and returning to the inn I had +my luggage put on to the carriage, and would have started that moment +if I had had any horses. But I had two hours to wait, and I went and +bade the marquis farewell. He was out, but his mistress was in the +room by herself. On my telling her of my departure, she said, + +"Don't go, stay with me a couple of days longer." + +"I feel the honour you are conferring on me, but business of the +greatest importance obliges me to be gone forthwith." + +"Impossible," said the lady, as she went to a glass the better to +lace herself, shewing me a superb breast. I saw her design, but I +determined to baulk her. She then put one foot upon a couch to retie +her garter, and when she put up the other foot I saw beauties more +enticing than Eve's apple. It was nearly all up with me, when the +marquis came in. He proposed a little game of quinze, and his +mistress asked me to be her partner. I could not escape; she sat +next to me, and I had lost forty Louis by dinner-time. + +"I owe you twenty," said the lady, as we were going down. + +At dessert Le Duc came to tell me that my carriage was at the door, +and I got up, but under the pretence of paying me the twenty louis +the marquis's mistress made me come with her to her room. + +When we were there she addressed me in a serious and supplicating +voice, telling me that if I went she would be dishonoured, as +everybody knew that she had engaged to make me stay. + +"Do I look worthy of contempt?" said she, making me sit down upon the +sofa. + +Then with a repetition of her tactics in the morning she contrived +that I should see everything. Excited by her charms I praised her +beauties, I kissed, I touched; she let herself fall on me, and looked +radiant when her vagrant hand found palpable proof of her powers of +attraction. + +"I promise to be yours to-morrow, wait till then." + +Not knowing how to refuse, I said I would keep her to her word, and +would have my horses taken out. Just then the marquis came in, +saying he would give me my revenge and without answering I went +downstairs as if to come back again, but I ran out of the inn, got +into my carriage, and drove off, promising a good fee to the +postillion if he would put his horses at a gallop. + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of MEMOIRES OF JACQUES CASANOVA +THE ETERNAL QUEST, Vol. 3e, WITH VOLTAIRE +by Jacques Casanova de Seingalt + + + diff --git a/old/jcvlt10.zip b/old/jcvlt10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e5e307 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/jcvlt10.zip diff --git a/old/jcvlt11.txt b/old/jcvlt11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b287188 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/jcvlt11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3705 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of With Voltaire, by Jacques Casanova +#15 in our series by Jacques Casanova de Seingalt + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798 +THE ETERNAL QUEST, Volume 3e--WITH VOLTAIRE + + +THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR +MACHEN TO WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED +BY ARTHUR SYMONS. + + + + +THE ETERNAL QUEST + + + + +WITH VOLTAIRE + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +M. de Voltaire; My Discussions with That Great Man--Ariosto--The Duc +de Villars--The Syndic and the Three Girls--Dispute with Voltaire-- +Aix-en-Savoie--The Marquis Desarmoises + + +"M. de Voltaire," said I, "this is the happiest moment of my life. +I have been your pupil for twenty years, and my heart is full of joy +to see my master." + +"Honour me with your attendance on my course for twenty years more, +and promise me that you will bring me my fees at the end of that +time." + +"Certainly, if you promise to wait for me." + +This Voltairean sally made all present laugh, as was to be expected, +for those who laugh keep one party in countenance at the other's +expense, and the side which has the laughter is sure to win; this is +the rule of good society. + +I was not taken by surprise, and waited to have my revenge. + +Just then two Englishmen came in and were presented to him. + +"These gentlemen are English," said Voltaire; "I wish I were." + +I thought the compliment false and out of place; for the gentlemen +were obliged to reply out of politeness that they wished they had +been French, or if they did not care to tell a lie they would be too +confused to tell the truth. I believe every man of honour should put +his own nation first. + +A moment after, Voltaire turned to me again and said that as I was a +Venetian I must know Count Algarotti. + +"I know him, but not because I am a Venetian, as seven-eights of my +dear countrymen are not even aware of his existence." + +"I should have said, as a man of letters." + +"I know him from having spent two months with him at Padua, seven +years ago, and what particularly attracted my attention was the +admiration he professed for M. de Voltaire." + +"That is flattering for me, but he has no need of admiring anyone." + +"If Algarotti had not begun by admiring others, he would never have +made a name for himself. As an admirer of Newton he endeavoured to +teach the ladies to discuss the theory of light." + +"Has he succeeded?" + +"Not as well as M. de Fontenelle in his "Plurality of Worlds;" +however, one may say he has succeeded." + +"True. If you see him at Bologna, tell him I am expecting to hear +from him about Russia. He can address my letters to my banker, +Bianchi, at Milan, and they will be sent on to me." + +"I will not fail to do so if I see him." + +"I have heard that the Italians do not care for his style." + +"No; all that he writes is full of French idioms. His style is +wretched." + +"But do not these French turns increase the beauty of your language?" + +"They make it insufferable, as French would be mixed with Italian or +German even though it were written by M. de Voltaire." + +"You are right; every language should preserve its purity. Livy has +been criticised on this account; his Latin is said to be tainted with +patavinity." + +"When I began to learn Latin, the Abbe Lazzarini told me he preferred +Livy to Sallust." + +"The Abbe Lazzarini, author of the tragedy, 'Ulisse il giovine'? +You must have been very young; I wish I had known him. But I knew +the Abbe Conti well; the same that was Newton's friend, and whose +four tragedies contain the whole of Roman history." + +"I also knew and admired him. I was young, but I congratulated +myself on being admitted into the society of these great men. It +seems as if it were yesterday, though it is many years ago; and now +in your presence my inferiority does not humiliate me. I wish to be +the younger son of all humanity." + +"Better so than to be the chief and eldest. May I ask you to what +branch of literature you have devoted yourself?" + +"To none; but that, perhaps, will come afterwards. In the meantime I +read as much as I can, and try to study character on my travels." + +"That is the way to become learned, but the book of humanity is too +vast. Reading a history is the easier way." + +"Yes, if history did not lie. One is not sure of the truth of the +facts. It is tiring, while the study of the world is amusing. +Horace, whom I know by heart, is my guide-book." + +"Algarotti, too, is very fond of Horace. Of course you are fond of +poetry?" + +"It is my passion." + +"Have you made many sonnets?" + +"Ten or twelve I like, and two or three thousand which in all +probability I have not read twice." + +"The Italians are mad after sonnets." + +"Yes; if one can call it a madness to desire to put thought into +measured harmony. The sonnet is difficult because the thought has to +be fitted exactly into the fourteen lines." + +"It is Procrustes' bed, and that's the reason you have so few good +ones. As for us, we have not one; but that is the fault of our +language." + +"And of the French genius, which considers that a thought when +extended loses all its force." + +"And you do not think so?" + +"Pardon me, it depends on the kind of thought. A witty saying, for +example, will not make a sonnet; in French or Italian it belongs to +the domain of epigram." + +"What Italian poet do you like best?" + +"Ariosto; but I cannot say I love him better than the others, for he +is my only love." + +"You know the others, though?" + +"I think I have read them all, but all their lights pale before +Ariosto's. Fifteen years ago I read all you have written against +him, and I said that you, would retract when you had read his works." + +"I am obliged to you for thinking that I had not read them. As a +matter of fact I had done so, but I was young. I knew Italian very +imperfectly, and being prejudiced by the learned Italians who adore +Tasso I was unfortunate enough to publish a criticism of Ariosto +which I thought my own, while it was only the echo of those who had +prejudiced me. I adore your Ariosto!" + +"Ah! M. de Voltaire, I breathe again. But be good enough to have +the work in which you turned this great man into ridicule +excommunicated." + +"What use would that be? All my books are excommunicated; but I +will give you a good proof of my retractation." + +I was astonished! The great man began to recite the two fine +passages from the thirty-fourth and thirty-fifth cantos, in which the +divine poet speaks of the conversation of Astolpho with St. John and +he did it without missing a single life or committing the slightest +fault against the laws of prosody. He then pointed out the beauties +of the passages with his natural insight and with a great man's +genius. I could not have had anything better from the lips of the +most skilled commentators in Italy. I listened to him with the +greatest attention, hardly daring to breath, and waiting for him to +make a mistake, but I had my trouble for nothing. I turned to the +company crying that I was more than astonished, and that all Italy +should know what I had seen. "And I, sir," said the great man, "will +let all Europe know of the amends I owe to the greatest genius our +continent has produced." + +Greedy of the praise which he deserved so well, Voltaire gave me the +next day his translation which Ariosto begins thus: + +"Quindi avvien the tra principi a signori." + + +At the end of the recitation which gained the applause of all who +heard it, although not one of them knew Italian, Madame Denis, his +niece, asked me if I thought the passage her uncle had just recited +one of the finest the poet had written. + +"Yes, but not the finest." + +"It ought to be; for without it Signor Lodovico would not have gained +his apotheosis." + +"He has been canonised, then? I was not aware of that." + +At these words the laugh, headed by Voltaire, went for Madame Denis. +Everybody laughed except myself, and I continued to look perfectly +serious. + +Voltaire was vexed at not seeing me laugh like the rest, and asked me +the reason. + +"Are you thinking," said he, "of some more than human passage?" + +"Yes," I answered. + +"What passage is that?" + +"The last thirty-six stanzas of the twenty-third canto, where the +poet describes in detail how Roland became mad. Since the world has +existed no one has discovered the springs of madness, unless Ariosto +himself, who became mad in his old age. These stanzas are terrible, +and I am sure they must have made you tremble." + +"Yes, I remember they render love dreadful. I long to read them +again." + +"Perhaps the gentleman will be good enough to recite them," said +Madame Denis, with a side-glance at her uncle. + +"Willingly," said I, "if you will have the goodness to listen to me." + +"You have learn them by heart, then, have you?" said Voltaire. + +"Yes, it was a pleasure and no trouble. Since I was sixteen, I have +read over Ariosto two or three times every year; it is my passion, +and the lines naturally become linked in my memory without my having +given myself any pains to learn them. I know it all, except his long +genealogies and his historical tirades, which fatigue the mind and do +not touch the heart. It is only Horace that I know throughout, in +spite of the often prosaic style of his epistles, which are certainly +far from equalling Boileau's." + +"Boileau is often too lengthy; I admire Horace, but as for Ariosto, +with his forty long cantos, there is too much of him." + +"It is fifty-one cantos, M. de Voltaire." + +The great man was silent, but Madame Denis was equal to the occasion. + +"Come, come," said she, "let us hear the thirty-six stanzas which +earned the author the title of divine, and which are to make us +tremble." + +I then began, in an assured voice, but not in that monotonous tone +adopted by the Italians, with which the French so justly reproach us. +The French would be the best reciters if they were not constrained by +the rhyme, for they say what they feel better than any other people. +They have neither the passionate monotonous tone of my fellow- +countrymen, nor the sentimentality of the Germans, nor the fatiguing +mannerisms of the English; to every period they give its proper +expression, but the recurrence of the same sounds partly spoils their +recitation. I recited the fine verses of Ariosto, as if it had been +rhythmic prose, animating it by the sound of my voice and the +movements of my eyes, and by modulating my intonation according to +the sentiments with which I wished to inspire my audience. They saw +how hardly I could restrain my tears, and every eye was wet; but when +I came to the stanza, + + "Poiche allargare il freno al dolor puote, + Che resta solo senza altrui rispetto, + Giu dagli occhi rigando per le gote + Sparge un fiume de lacrime sul petto," + +my tears coursed down my cheeks to such an extent that everyone began +to sob. M. de Voltaire and Madame Denis threw their arms round my +neck, but their embraces could not stop me, for Roland, to become +mad, had to notice that he was in the same bed in which Angelica had +lately been found in the arms of the too fortunate Medor, and I had +to reach the next stanza. For my voice of sorrow and wailing I +substituted the expression of that terror which arose naturally from +the contemplation of his fury, which was in its effects like a +tempest, a volcano, or an earthquake. + +When I had finished I received with a sad air the congratulations of +the audience. Voltaire cried, + +"I always said so; the secret of drawing tears is to weep one's self, +but they must be real tears, and to shed them the heart must be +stirred to its depths. I am obliged to you, sir," he added, +embracing me, "and I promise to recite the same stanzas myself to- +morrow, and to weep like you." + +He kept his word. + +"It is astonishing," said Madame Denis, "that intolerant Rome should +not have condemned the song of Roland." + +"Far from it," said Voltaire, "Leo X. excommunicated whoever should +dare to condemn it. The two great families of Este and Medici +interested themselves in the poet's favour. Without that protection +it is probable that the one line on the donation of Rome by +Constantine to Silvester, where the poet speaks 'puzza forte' would +have sufficed to put the whole poem under an interdict." + +"I believe," said I, "that the line which has excited the most talk +is that in which Ariosto throws doubt on the general resurrection. +Ariosto," I added, "in speaking of the hermit who would have hindered +Rhodomonte from getting possession of Isabella, widow of Zerbin, +paints the African, who wearied of the hermit's sermons, seizes him +and throws him so far that he dashes him against a rock, against +which he remains in a dead swoon, so that 'che al novissimo di forse +fia desto'." + +This 'forse' which may possibly have only been placed there as a +flower of rhetoric or as a word to complete the verse, raised a great +uproar, which would doubtless have greatly amused the poet if he had +had time! + +"It is a pity," said Madame Denis, "that Ariosto was not more careful +in these hyperbolical expressions." + +"Be quiet, niece, they are full of wit. They are all golden grains, +which are dispersed throughout the work in the best taste." + +The conversation was then directed towards various topics, and at +last we got to the 'Ecossaise' we had played at Soleure. + +They knew all about it. + +M. de Voltaire said that if I liked to play it at his house he would +write to M. de Chavigni to send the Lindane, and that he himself +would play Montrose. I excused myself by saying that Madame was at +Bale and that I should be obliged to go on my journey the next day. +At this he exclaimed loudly, aroused the whole company against me, +and said at last that he should consider my visit as an insult unless +I spared him a week at least of my society. + +"Sir," said I, "I have only come to Geneva to have the honour of +seeing you, and now that I have obtained that favour I have nothing +more to do." + +"Have you come to speak to me, or for me to speak to you?" + +"In a measure, of course, to speak to you, but much more for you to +speak to me." + +"Then stay here three days at least; come to dinner every day, and we +will have some conversation." + +The invitation was so flattering and pressing that I could not refuse +it with a good grace. I therefore accepted, and I then left to go +and write. + +I had not been back for a quarter of an hour when a syndic of the +town, an amiable man, whom I had seen at M. de Voltaire's, and whose +name I shall not mention, came and asked me to give him supper. +"I was present," said he, "at your argument with the great man, and +though I did not open my mouth I should much like to have an hour's +talk with you." By way of reply, I embraced him, begging him to +excuse my dressing-gown, and telling him that I should be glad if he +would spend the whole night with me. + +The worthy man spent two hours with me, without saying a word on the +subject of literature, but to please me he had no need to talk of +books, for he was a disciple of Epicurus and Socrates, and the +evening was spent in telling little stories, in bursts of laughter, +and in accounts of the various kinds of pleasure obtainable at +Geneva. Before leaving me he asked me to come and sup with him on +the following evening, promising that boredom should not be of the +party. + +"I shall wait for you," said I. + +"Very good, but don't tell anyone of the party." + +I promised to follow his instructions. + +Next morning, young Fox came to see me with the two Englishmen I had +seen at M. de Voltaire's. They proposed a game of quinze, which I +accepted, and after losing fifty louis I left off, and we walked +about the town till dinner-time. + +We found the Duc de Villars at Delices; he had come there to consult +Dr. Tronchin, who had kept him alive for the last ten years. + +I was silent during the repast, but at dessert, M. de Voltaire, +knowing that I had reasons for not liking the Venetian Government, +introduced the subject; but I disappointed him, as I maintained that +in no country could a man enjoy more perfect liberty than in Venice. + +"Yes," said he, "provided he resigns himself to play the part of a +dumb man." + +And seeing that I did not care for the subject, he took me by the arm +to his garden, of which, he said, he was the creator. The principal +walk led to a pretty running stream. + +"'Tis the Rhone," said he, "which I send into France." + +"It does not cost you much in carriage, at all events," said I. + +He smiled pleasantly and shewed me the principal street of Geneva, +and Mont Blanc which is the highest point of the Alps. + +Bringing back the conversation to Italian literature, he began to +talk nonsense with much wit and learning, but always concluding with +a false judgment. I let him talk on. He spoke of Homer, Dante, and +Petrarch, and everybody knows what he thought of these great +geniuses, but he did himself wrong in writing what he thought. I +contented myself with saying that if these great men did not merit +the esteem of those who studied them; it would at all events be a +long time before they had to come down from the high place in which +the praise of centuries, had placed them. + +The Duc de Villars and the famous Tronchin came and joined us. The +doctor, a tall fine man, polite, eloquent without being a +conversationalist, a learned physician, a man of wit, a favourite +pupil of Boerhaeve, without scientific jargon, or charlatanism, or +self-sufficiency, enchanted me. His system of medicine was based on +regimen, and to make rules he had to be a man of profound science. +I have been assured, but can scarcely believe it, that he cured a +consumptive patient of a secret disease by means of the milk of an +ass, which he had submitted to thirty strong frictions of mercury by +four sturdy porters. + +As to Villars he also attracted my attention, but in quite a +different way to Tronchin. On examining his face and manner I +thought I saw before me a woman of seventy dressed as a man, thin and +emaciated, but still proud of her looks, and with claims to past +beauty. His cheeks and lips were painted, his eyebrows blackened, +and his teeth were false; he wore a huge wig, which, exhaled amber, +and at his buttonhole was an enormous bunch of flowers, which touched +his chin. He affected a gracious manner, and he spoke so softly that +it was often impossible to hear what he said. He was excessively +polite and affable, and his manners were those of the Regency. His +whole appearance was supremely ridiculous. I was told that in his +youth he was a lover of the fair sex, but now that he was no longer +good for anything he had modestly made himself into a woman, and had +four pretty pets in his employ, who took turns in the disgusting duty +of warming his old carcase at night. + +Villars was governor of Provence, and had his back eaten up with +cancer. In the course of nature he should have been buried ten years +ago, but Tronchin kept him alive with his regimen and by feeding the +wounds on slices of veal. Without this the cancer would have killed +him. His life might well be called an artificial one. + +I accompanied M. de Voltaire to his bedroom, where he changed his wig +and put on another cap, for he always wore one on account of the +rheumatism to which he was subject. I saw on the table the Summa of +St. Thomas, and among other Italian poets the 'Secchia Rapita' of +Tassoni. + +"This," said Voltaire, "is the only tragicomic poem which Italy has. +Tassoni was a monk, a wit and a genius as well as a poet." + +"I will grant his poetical ability but not his learning, for he +ridiculed the system of Copernicus, and said that if his theories +were followed astronomers would not be able to calculate lunations or +eclipses." + +"Where does he make that ridiculous remark?" + +"In his academical discourses." + +"I have not read them, but I will get them." + +He took a pen and noted the name down, and said,-- + +"But Tassoni has criticised Petrarch very ingeniously." + +"Yes, but he has dishonoured taste and literature, like Muratori." + +"Here he is. You must allow that his learning is immense." + +"Est ubi peccat." + +Voltaire opened a door, and I saw a hundred great files full of +papers. + +"That's my correspondence," said he. "You see before you nearly +fifty thousand letters, to which I have replied." + +"Have you a copy of your answers?" + +"Of a good many of them. That's the business of a servant of mine, +who has nothing else to do." + +"I know plenty of booksellers who would give a good deal to get hold +of your answers. + +"Yes; but look out for the booksellers when you publish anything, if +you have not yet begun; they are greater robbers than Barabbas." + +"I shall not have anything to do with these gentlemen till I am an +old man." + +"Then they will be the scourge of your old age." + +Thereupon I quoted a Macaronic verse by Merlin Coccaeus. + +"Where's that from?" + +"It's a line from a celebrated poem in twenty-four cantos." + +"Celebrated?" + +"Yes; and, what is more, worthy of being celebrated; but to +appreciate it one must understand the Mantuan dialect." + +"I could make it out, if you could get me a copy." + +"I shall have the honour of presenting you with one to-morrow." + +"You will oblige me extremely." + +We had to leave his room and spend two hours in the company, talking +over all sorts of things. Voltaire displayed all the resources of +his brilliant and fertile wit, and charmed everyone in spite of his +sarcastic observations which did not even spare those present, but he +had an inimitable manner of lancing a sarcasm without wounding a +person's feelings. When the great man accompanied his witticisms +with a graceful smile he could always get a laugh. + +He kept up a notable establishment and an excellent table, a rare +circumstance with his poetic brothers, who are rarely favourites of +Plutus as he was. He was then sixty years old, and had a hundred and +twenty thousand francs a year. It has been said maliciously that +this great man enriched himself by cheating his publishers; whereas +the fact was that he fared no better than any other author, and +instead of duping them was often their dupe. The Cramers must be +excepted, whose fortune he made. Voltaire had other ways of making +money than by his pen; and as he was greedy of fame, he often gave +his works away on the sole condition that they were to be printed and +published. During the short time I was with him, I was a witness of +such a generous action; he made a present to his bookseller of the +"Princess of Babylon," a charming story which he had written in three +days. + +My epicurean syndic was exact to his appointment, and took me to a +house at a little distance where he introduced me to three young +ladies, who, without being precisely beautiful, were certainly +ravishing. Two of them were sisters. I had an easy and pleasant +welcome, and from their intellectual appearance and gay manners I +anticipated a delightful evening, and I was not disappointed. The +half hour before supper was passed in conversation, decent but +without restraint, and during supper, from the hints the syndic gave +me, I guessed what would happen after dessert. + +It was a hot evening, and on the pretext of cooling ourselves, we +undressed so as to be almost in a state of nature. What an orgy we +had! I am sorry I am obliged to draw a veil over the most exciting +details. In the midst of our licentious gaiety, whilst we were +heated by love, champagne, and a discourse of an exciting nature, I +proposed to recite Grecourt's 'Y Gyec'. When I had finished the +voluptuous poem, worthy of an abbe's pen, I saw that the eyes of the +three beauties were all aflame, and said,-- + +"Ladies, if you like, I will shew you all three, one after the other, +why the sentence, 'Gaudeant bene nati', was uttered"; and without +waiting for their reply, I succeeded in making them happy. The +syndic was radiant, he was pleased at having given me a present +entirely to my taste; and I fancied that the entertainment was not +displeasing to the three Graces, who were kept low by the Sybarite, +as his powers were almost limited to desires. The girls lavished +their thanks on me, while I endeavoured to assure them of my +gratitude; but they leapt for joy when they heard the syndic asking +me to come next day. + +As he was taking me back to my inn I told him how great a pleasure he +had given me, and he said he had brought up the three jewels himself. + +"You," he added, "are the only man besides myself they know. You +shall see them again, but I beg you will take care not to leave +anything behind you, for in this town of prejudices that would be a +great misfortune for them and for me." + +"You are always moderate in your enjoyment, then?" I said to him. + +"Unfortunately, that is no merit as far as I am concerned. I was +born for the service of love, and Venus has punished me for +worshipping her when I was too young." + +After a good night's sleep I awoke in an active mood, and began to +write a letter to Voltaire in blank verse, which cost me four times +the pains that rhymed verses would have done. I sent it to him with +the poem of Theophile Falengue, but I made a mistake in doing so, as +I might have known he would not care for it; one cannot appreciate +what one does not understand. I then went to Mr. Fox, where I found +the two Englishmen who offered me my revenge. I lost a hundred +Louis, and was glad to see them set out for Lausanne. + +The syndic had told me that the three young ladies belonged to +respectable families, but were not rich. I puzzled my head to think +of some useful present I might make them without offending them, and +at last I hit on a plan of the most ridiculous nature, as the reader +will see. I went to a jeweller and told him to make me three golden +balls, each of two ounces in weight. + +At noon I went to M. de Voltaire's. He was not to be seen, but +Madame Denis consoled me for his absence. She had wit, learning +without pretension, taste, and a great hatred for the King of +Prussia, whom she called a villain. She asked about my beautiful +housekeeper, and congratulated me on having married her to a +respectable man. Although I feel now that she was quite right, I was +far from thinking so then; the impression was too fresh on my mind. +Madame Denis begged me to tell her how I had escaped from The Leads, +but as the story was rather a long one I promised to satisfy her +another time. + +M. de Voltaire did not dine with us; he appeared, however, at five +o'clock, holding a letter in his hand. + +"Do you know," said he, "the Marquis Albergati Capacelli, senator of +Bologna, and Count Paradisi?" + +"I do not know Paradisi, but I know Albergati by sight and by +reputation; he is not a senator, but one of the Forty, who at Bologna +are Fifty." + +"Dear me! That seems rather a riddle!" + +"Do you know him?" + +"No, but he has sent me Goldoni's 'Theatre,' the translation of my +Tancred, and some Bologna sausages, and he says he will come and see +me." + +"He will not come; he is not such a fool." + +"How a fool? Would there be anything foolish in coming to see me?" + +"Certainly not, as far as you are concerned; but very much so far his +own sake." + +"Would you mind telling me why?" + +"He knows what he would lose; for he enjoys the idea you seem to have +of him, and if he came you would see his nothingness, and good-bye to +the illusion. He is a worthy man with six thousand sequins a year, +and a craze for the theatre. He is a good actor enough, and has +written several comedies in prose, but they are fit neither for the +study nor the stage." + +"You certainly give him a coat which does not make him look any +bigger." + +"I assure you it is not quite small enough." + +"But tell me how he can belong to the Forty and the Fifty?" + +"Just as at Bale noon is at eleven." + +"I understand; just as your Council of Ten is composed of seventeen +members." + +"Exactly; but the cursed Forty of Bologna are men of another kind." + +"Why cursed?" + +"Because they are not subject to the fisc, and are thus enabled to +commit whatever crimes they like with perfect impunity; all they have +got to do is to live outside the state borders on their revenues." + +"That is a blessing, and not a curse; but let me return to our +subject. I suppose the Marquis Albergati is a man of letters?" + +"He writes well enough, but he is fond of the sound of his own voice, +his style is prolix, and I don't think he has much brains." + +"He is an actor, I think you said?" + +"Yes, and a very good one, above all, when he plays the lover's part +in one of his own plays." + +"Is he a handsome man?" + +"Yes, on the stage, but not elsewhere; his face lacks expression." + +"But his plays give satisfaction?" + +"Not to persons who understand play writing; they would be hissed if +they were intelligible." + +"And what do you think of Goldoni?" + +"I have the highest opinion of him. Goldoni is the Italian Moliere." + +"Why does he call himself poet to the Duke of Parma?" + +"No doubt to prove that a wit as well as a fool has his weak points; +in all probability the duke knows nothing about it. He also calls +himself a barrister, though he is such only in his own imagination. +Goldoni is a good play writer, and nothing more. Everybody in Venice +knows me for his friend, and I can therefore speak of him with +authority. He does not shine in society, and in spite of the fine +satire of his works he is a man of an extremely gentle disposition." + +"So I have been told. He is poor, and wants to leave Venice. The +managers of the theatres where they play his pieces will not like +that." + +"People talked about getting him a pension, but the project has been +relegated to the Greek Kalends, as they said that if he had a pension +he would write no more." + +"Cumae refused to give a pension to Homer, for fear that all the +blind men would ask for a pension." + +We spent a pleasant day, and he thanked me heartily for the copy of +the Macaronicon, which he promised to read. He introduced me to a +Jesuit he had in his household, who was called Adam, and he added, +after telling me his name, "not the first Adam." I was told +afterwards that Voltaire used to play backgammon with him, and when +he lost he would throw the dice and the box at his head. If Jesuits +were treated like that all the world over, perhaps we should have +none but inoffensive Jesuits at last, but that happy time is still +far off. + +I had scarcely got to my inn in the evening when I received my three +golden balls, and as soon as the syndic came we set off to renew our +voluptuous orgy. On the way he talked about modesty, and said,-- + +"That feeling which prevents our shewing those parts which we have +been taught to cover from our childhood, may often proceed from +virtue, but is weaker than the force of education, as it cannot +resist an attack when the attacking party knows what he is about. +I think the easiest way to vanquish modesty is to ignore its +presence, to turn it into ridicule, to carry it by storm. Victory is +certain. The hardihood of the assailer subdues the assailed, who +usually only wishes to be conquered, and nearly always thanks you for +your victory. + +"Clement of Alexandria, a learned man and a philosopher, has remarked +that the modesty which appears so deeply rooted in women's hearts +really goes no farther than the clothes they wear, and that when +these are plucked off no trace of it remains." + +We found the three girls lightly clad and sitting on a large sopha, +and we sat down opposite to them. Pleasant talk and a thousand +amorous kisses occupied the half hour just before supper, and our +combat did not begin till we had eaten a delicious repast, washed +down with plenty of champagne. + +We were sure of not being interrupted by the maid and we put +ourselves at our ease, whilst our caresses became more lively and +ardent. The syndic, like a careful man, drew a packet of fine French +letters from his pocket, and delivered a long eulogium on this +admirable preservative from an accident which might give rise to a +terrible and fruitless repentance. The ladies knew them, and seemed +to have no objection to the precaution; they laughed heartily to see +the shape these articles took when they were blown out. But after +they had amused themselves thus for some time, I said, + +"My dear girls, I care more for your honour than your beauty; but do +not think I am going to shut myself in a piece of dead skin to prove +that I am alive. Here," I added, drawing out the three golden balls, +"is a surer and less disagreeable way of securing you from any +unpleasant consequences. After fifteen years' experience I can +assure you that with these golden balls you can give and take without +running the least risk. For the future you will have no need of +those humiliating sheaths. Trust in me and accept this little +present from a Venetian who adores you." + +"We are very grateful," said the elder of the two sisters, "but how +are these pretty balls used?" + +"The ball has to be at the rear of the temple of love, whilst the +amorous couple are performing the sacrifice. The antipathy +communicated to the metal by its being soaked for a certain time in +an alkaline solution prevents impregnation." + +"But," said the cousin, "one must take great care that the ball is +not shaken out by the motion before the end of the sacrifice." + +"You needn't be afraid of that if you place yourself in a proper +position." + +"Let us see how it's done," said the syndic, holding a candle for me +to put the ball in place. + +The charming cousin had gone too far to turn back; she had to submit +to the operation. I placed the ball in such a position that it could +not fall out before I was in; however, it fell out towards the end, +just as we were separating. The victim perceived that I had taken her +in. However, she said nothing, picked up the ball, and challenged +the two sisters to submit to the pleasant experiment, to which they +lent themselves with the greatest interest; while the syndic, who had +no faith in the virtues of the metal, contented himself with looking +on. After half an hour's rest I began again, without balls, assuring +them that I would be careful, and I kept my word, without depriving +them of the pleasure in the slightest degree. + +When it was time to part, these girls, who had formerly been scantily +provided for, threw their arms round my neck, overwhelmed me with +caresses, and declared how much they owed me. The syndic told them +that I was going in two days, and suggested that they should make me +stay a day longer in Geneva, and I made this sacrifice joyfully. The +worthy syndic had an engagement on the following day, and I sorely +needed a holiday myself. He took me back to my inn, thanking me +almost as heartily as his charming nymphs. + +After having enjoyed a calm and refreshing sleep ten hours, I felt +myself able to enjoy the delightful society of M. de Voltaire. I +went to his house, but I was disappointed in my hopes, as it pleased +the great man to be in a fault-finding and sarcastic mood the whole +day. He knew I had to leave on the morrow. + +He began by thanking me at table for my present of Merlin Coccaeus. + +"You certainly gave it me with good intentions," said he, "but I owe +you no thanks for praising it so highly, as you made me lose four +hours in reading nonsense." + +I felt my hair stand on end, but I mastered my emotions, and told him +quietly enough that one day, perhaps, he would find himself obliged +to praise the poem more highly than I had done. I quoted several +instances of the insufficiency of a first perusal. + +"That's true," said he; "but as for your Merlin, I will read him no +more. I have put him beside Chapelain's 'Pucelle'." + +"Which pleases all the critics, in spite of its bad versification, +for it is a good poem, and Chapelain was a real poet though he wrote +bad verses. I cannot overlook his genius." + +My freedom must have shocked him, and I might have guessed it when he +told me he had put the 'Macaronicon' beside the 'Pucelle'. I knew +that there was a poem of the same title in circulation, which passed +for Voltaire's; but I also knew that he disavowed it, and I thought +that would make him conceal the vexation my explanation must have +caused him. It was not so, however; he contradicted me sharply, and +I closed with him. + +"Chapelain," said I, "has the merit of having rendered his +subject-matter pleasant, without pandering to the tastes of his +readers by saying things shocking to modesty and piety. So thinks my +master Crebillon:" + +"Crebillon! You cite a weighty authority. But how is my friend +Crebillon your master, may I ask?" + +"He taught me to speak French in less than two years, and as a mark +of my gratitude I translated his Radamiste into Italian Alexandrines. +I am the first Italian who has dared to use this metre in our +language." + +"The first? I beg your pardon, as that honour belongs to my friend +Pierre Jacques Martelli." + +"I am sorry to be obliged to tell you that you are making a mistake." + +"Why, I have his works, printed at Bologna, in my room!" + +"I don't deny that, I am only talking about the metre used by +Martelli. What you are thinking of must be verses of fourteen +syllables; without alternative masculine and feminine rhymes. +However, I confess that he thinks he has imitated the French +Alexandrines, and his preface made me explode with laughter. Did you +read it?" + +"Read it? I always read prefaces, and Martelli proves there that his +verses have the same effect in Italian as our Alexandrine verses have +in French." + +"Exactly, that's what's so amusing. The worthy man is quite +mistaken, and I only ask you to listen to what I have to say on the +subject. Your masculine verse has only twelve poetic syllables, and +the feminine thirteen. All Martelli's lines have fourteen syllables, +except those that finish with a long vowel, which at the end of a +line always counts as two syllables. You will observe that the first +hemistitch in Martelli always consists of seven syllables, while in +French it only has six. Your friend Pierre Jacques was either stone +deaf or very hard of hearing." + +"Then you have followed our theory of versification rigorously." + +"Just so, in spite of the difficulty, as nearly all our words end +with a short syllable." + +"What reception has been accorded to your innovation?" + +"It has not been found pleasing, because nobody knows how to recite +my verses; but I hope to triumph when I deliver them myself before +our literary clubs." + +"Do you remember any of your version of the Radamiste?" + +"I remember it all." + +"You have a wonderful memory; I should be glad to hear it." + +I began to recite the same scene that I had recited to Crebillon ten +years before, and I thought M. de Voltaire listened with pleasure. + +"It doesn't strike one as at all harsh," said he. + +This was the highest praise he would give me. In his turn the great +man recited a passage from Tancred which had not as yet been +published, and which was afterwards considered, and rightly, as a +masterpiece. + +We should have got on very well if we had kept to that, but on my +quoting a line of Horace to praise one of his pieces, he said that +Horace was a great master who had given precepts which would never be +out of date. Thereupon I answered that he himself had violated one +of them, but that he had violated it grandly. + +"Which is that?" + +"You do not write, 'Contentus paucis lectoribus'." + +"If Horace had had to combat the hydra-headed monster of +superstition, he would have written as I have written--for all the +world." + +"It seems to me that you might spare yourself the trouble of +combating what you will never destroy." + +"That which I cannot finish others will, and I shall always have the +glory of being the first in the field." + +"Very good; but supposing you succeed in destroying superstition, +what are you going to put in its place?" + +"I like that. If I deliver the race of man from a wild beast which +is devouring it, am I to be asked what I intend to put in its place?" + +"It does not devour it; on the contrary, it is necessary to its +existence." + +"Necessary to its existence! That is a horrible blasphemy, the +falsity of which will be seen in the future. I love the human race; +I would fain see men like myself, free and happy, and superstition +and freedom cannot go together. Where do you find an enslaved and +yet a happy people?" + +"You wish, then, to see the people sovereign?" + +"God forbid! There must be a sovereign to govern the masses." + +"In that case you must have superstition, for without it the masses +will never obey a mere man decked with the name of monarch." + +"I will have no monarch; the word expresses despotism, which I hate +as I do slavery." + +"What do you mean, then? If you wish to put the government in the +hands of one man, such a man, I maintain, will be a monarch." + +"I would have a sovereign ruler of a free people, of which he is the +chief by an agreement which binds them both, which would prevent him +from becoming a tyrant." + +"Addison will tell you that such a sovereign is a sheer +impossibility. I agree with Hobbes, of two evils choose the least. +A nation without superstition would be a nation of philosophers, and +philosophers would never obey. The people will only be happy when +they are crushed and down-trodden, and bound in chains." + +"This is horrible; and you are of the people yourself. If you have +read my works you must have seen how I shew that superstition is the +enemy of kings." + +"Read your works? I have read and re-read them, especially in places +where I have differed from you. Your ruling passion is the love of +humanity. 'Est ubi peccas'. This blinds you. Love humanity, but +love it as it is. It is not fit to receive the blessings you would +lavish on it, and which would only make it more wretched and +perverse. Leave men their devouring monster, it is dear to them. +I have never laughed so heartily as at Don Quixote assailed by the +galley-slaves whom his generosity had set free." + +"I am sorry that you have such a bad opinion of your fellow- +creatures. And by the way, tell me whether there is freedom in +Venice." + +"As much as can be expected under an aristocracy. Our liberty is not +so great as that which the English enjoy, but we are content." + +"Even under The Leads?" + +"My imprisonment was certainly despotic; but as I had knowingly +abused my liberty I am satisfied that the Government was within its +rights in shutting me up without the usual formalities." + +"All the same, you made your escape." + +"I used my rights as they had used theirs." + +"Very good! But as far as I can see, no one in Venice is really +free." + +"That may be; but you must agree that the essence of freedom consists +in thinking you have it." + +"I shall not agree to that so easily. You and I see liberty from +very different points of view. The aristocrats, the members of the +Government even, are not free at Venice; for example, they cannot +travel without permission." + +"True, but that is a restriction of their own making to preserve +their power. Would you say that a Bernese is not free, because he is +subject to the sumptuary laws, which he himself had made." + +"Well, well, I wish the people made the laws everywhere." + +After this lively answer, he abruptly asked me what part I came from. + +"From Roche," said I. "I should have been very sorry to leave +Switzerland without seeing the famous Haller. In my travels I render +homage to my learned contemporaries, and you come the last and best." + +"You must have liked Haller." + +"I spent three of the happiest days of my life with him." + +"I congratulate you. He is a great man and worthy of all honour." + +"I think as you do, and I am glad to hear you doing him justice; I am +sorry he was not so just towards you." + +"Well, you see we may be both of us mistaken." + +At this reply, the quickness of which constituted its chief merit, +everybody present began to laugh and applaud. + +No more was said of literature, and I became a silent actor till +M. de Voltaire retired, when I approached Madame Denis, and asked her +if she had any commands for me at Rome. I went home well pleased at +having compelled the giant of intellect to listen to reason, as I +then thought foolishly enough; but there was a rankling feeling left +in my heart against him which made me, ten years later, criticise all +he had written. + +I am sorry now for having done so, though on reading my censures over +again I find that in many places I was right. I should have done +better, however, to have kept silence, to have respected his genius, +and to have suspected my own opinions. I should have considered that +if it had not been for those quips and cranks which made me hate him +on the third day, I should have thought him wholly sublime. This +thought alone should have silenced me, but an angry man always thinks +himself right. Posterity on reading my attack will rank me among the +Zoyluses, and the humble apology I now make to the great man's shades +may not be read. + +If we meet in the halls of Pluto, the more peccant parts of our +mortal nature purged away, all will be made up; he will receive my +heartfelt apologies, and he will be my friend, I his sincere admirer. + +I spent part of the night and the whole of the following day in +writing down my conversations with Voltaire, and they amounted nearly +to a volume, of which I have only given a mere abridgment. Towards +the evening my Epicurean syndic called on me, and we went to sup with +the three nymphs, and for five hours we indulged in every species of +wantonness, in which I had a somewhat fertile imagination. On +leaving I promised to call on them again on my return from Rome, and +I kept my word. I set out the next day, after dining with the +syndic, who accompanied me as far as Anneci, where I spent the night. +Next day I dined at Aix, with the intention of lying at Chamberi, but +my destiny ordered otherwise. + +Aix is a villainous hole where the mineral waters attract people of +fashion towards the end of the summer--a circumstance of which I was +then ignorant. I dined hastily, wishing to set out immediately for +Chamberi, when in the middle of my repast a crowd of fashionable +people burst into the room. I looked at them without stirring, +replying with an inclination of the head to the bows which some of +them made me. I soon discovered from their conversation that they +had all come to take the waters. A gentleman of a fine presence came +up to me and asked if I were going to Turin; I answered that my way +was to Marseilles. + +Their dinner was served, and everybody sat down. Among them I +noticed several pleasant-looking ladies, with gentlemen who were +either their husbands or their lovers. I concluded that I might find +some amusement with them, as they all spoke French with that easy +tone of good society which is so attractive, and I felt that I should +be inclined to stay without much pressing, for that day at all +events. + +I finished my dinner before the company had come to the end of their +first course, and as my coach could not go for another hour I went up +to a pretty woman, and complimented her on the good the waters of Aix +seemed to have done her, for her appetite made all who looked at her +feel hungry. + +"I challenge you to prove that you are speaking the truth," said she, +with a smile. I sat down next to her, and she gave me a nice piece +of the roast which I ate as if I had been fasting. + +While I was talking with the lady, and eating the morsels she gave +me, I heard a voice saying that I was in the abbe's place, and +another voice replying that the abbe had been gone for half an hour. + +"Why has he gone?" asked a third, "he said he was going to stay here +for another week." At this there was some whispering, but the +departure of an abbe had nothing interesting in it for me, and I +continued eating and talking. I told Le Duc, who was standing behind +my chair, to get me some champagne. I offered the lady some, she +accepted, and everyone began to call for champagne. Seeing my +neighbour's spirits rising, I proceeded to make love to her, and +asked her if she were always as ready to defy those who paid their +court to her. + +"So many of them," she answered, "are not worthy the trouble." + +She was pretty and quick-witted, and I took a fancy to her, and +wished for some pretext on which I could put off my departure, and +chance came to my aid. + +"The place next to you was conveniently empty," said a lady to my +neighbour who was drinking with me. + +"Very conveniently, for my neighbour wearied me." + +"Had he no appetite?" said I. + +"Gamesters only have an appetite for money." + +"Usually, but your power is extraordinary; for I have never made two +dinners on one day before now." + +"Only out of pride; as I am sure you will eat no supper." + +"Let us make a bet on it." + +"We will; we will bet the supper." + +"All right." + +All the guests began to clap, and my fair neighbour blushed with +pleasure. I ordered Le Duc to tell my coachman that I should not be +going till the next day. + +"It is my business," said the lady, "to order the supper." + +"Yes, you are right; for he who pays, orders. My part will be to +oppose you to the knife, and if I eat as much as you I shall be the +winner." + +"Very good." + +At the end of dinner, the individual who had addressed me before +called for cards, and made a small bank of faro. He put down twenty- +five Piedmontese pistoles, and some silver money to amuse the ladies +--altogether it amounted nearly to forty louis. I remained a +spectator during the first deal, and convinced myself that the banker +played very well. + +Whilst he was getting ready for the second deal, the lady asked me +why I did not play. I whispered to her that she had made me lose my +appetite for money. She repaid this compliment with a charming +smile. + +After this declaration, feeling myself entitled to play, I put down +forty louis, and lost them in two deals. I got up, and on the banker +saying very politely that he was sorry for my loss, I replied that it +was a mere nothing, but that I always made it a rule never to risk a +sum of money larger than the bank. Somebody then asked me if I knew +a certain Abbe Gilbert. + +"I knew a man of that name," said I, "at Paris; he came from Lyons, +and owes me a pair of ears, which I mean to cut off his head when I +meet him." + +My questioner made no reply to this, and everybody remained silent, +as if nothing had been said. From this I concluded that the abbe +aforesaid must be the same whose place I had occupied at dinner. He +had doubtless seen me on my arrival and had taken himself off. This +abbe was a rascal who had visited me at Little Poland, to whom I had +entrusted a ring which had cost me five thousand florins in Holland; +next day the scoundrel had disappeared. + +When everybody had left the table, I asked Le Duc if I were well +lodged. + +"No," said he; "would you like to see your room?" + +He took me to a large room, a hundred paces from the inn, whose sole +furniture consisted of its four walls, all the other rooms being +occupied. I complained vainly to the inn-keeper, who said, + +"It's all I can offer you, but I will have a good bed, a table, and +chairs taken there." + +I had to content myself with it, as there was no choice. + +"You will sleep in my room," said I to Le Duc, "take care to provide +yourself with a bed, and bring my baggage in." + +"What do you think of Gilbert, sir?" said my Spaniard; "I only +recognized him just as he was going, and I had a lively desire to +take him by the back of his neck." + +"You would have done well to have satisfied that desire." + +"I will, when I see him again." + +As I was leaving my big room, I was accosted politely by a man who +said he was glad to be my neighbour, and offered to take me to the +fountain if I were going there. I accepted his offer. He was a tall +fair man, about fifty years old; he must once have been handsome, but +his excessive politeness should have made me suspect him; however, I +wanted somebody to talk to, and to give me the various pieces of +information I required. On the way he informed me of the condition +of the people I had seen, and I learnt that none of them had come to +Aix for the sake of the waters. + +"I am the only one," said he, "who takes them out of necessity. I am +consumptive; I get thinner every day, and if the waters don't do me +any good I shall not last much longer." + +So all the others have only come here for amusement's sake?" + +"And to game, sir, for they are all professional gamesters." + +"Are they French?" + +"They are all from Piedmont or Savoy; I am the only Frenchman here." + +"What part of France do you come from?" + +"From Lorraine; my father, who is eighty years old, is the Marquis +Desarmoises. He only keeps on living to spite me, for as I married +against his wishes he has disinherited me. However, as I am his only +son, I shall inherit his property after his death, in spite of him. +My house is at Lyons, but I never go there, as I have the misfortune +to be in love with my eldest daughter, and my wife watches us so +closely as to make my courtship hopeless." + +"That is very fine; otherwise, I suppose, your daughter would take +pity on her amorous papa?" + +"I daresay, for she is very fond of me, and has an excellent heart." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +My Adventures at Aix--My Second M. M.--Madame Zeroli + + +This man, who, though he did not know me, put the utmost confidence +in me, so far from thinking he was horrifying me by the confession of +such wickedness, probably considered he was doing me a great honour. +While I listened to him I reflected that though depraved he might +have his good points, and that his weakness might have a pitiable if +not a pardonable side. However, wishing to know more of him, I +said,-- + +"In spite of your father's sternness, you live very well." + +"On the contrary, I live very ill. I enjoy a pension from the +Government, which I surrender to my wife, and as for me I make a +livelihood on my travels. I play black gammon and most other games +perfectly. I win more often than I lose, and I live on my winnings." + +"But is what you have told me about your daughter known to the +visitors here?" + +"Everybody knows it; why should I hide it? I am a man of honour and +injure no one; and, besides, my sword is sharp." + +"Quite so; but would you tell me whether you allow your daughter to +have a lover?" + +"I should have no objection, but my wife is religious." + +"Is your daughter pretty?" + +"Very; if you are going to Lyons, you can go and see her; I will give +you a letter of introduction for her." "Thank you, but I am going to +Italy. Can you tell me the name of the gentleman who kept the bank?" + +"That is the famous Parcalier, Marquis de Prie since the death of his +father, whom you may have known as ambassador at Venice. The +gentleman who asked you if you knew the Abbe Gilbert is the Chevalier +Zeroli, husband of the lady you are to sup with. The rest are +counts, marquises, and barons of the usual kind, some from Piedmont +and some from Savoy. Two or three are merchants' sons, and the +ladies are all their friends or relations. They are all professional +gamblers and sharp-witted. When a stranger comes here they know how +to get over him, and if he plays it is all up with him, for they go +together like pickpockets at a fair. They think they have got you, +so take care of yourself." + +In the evening we returned to the inn, and found all the company +playing, and my companion proceeded to play with a Count de +Scarnafisch. + +The Chevalier Zeroli offered to play faro with me for forty sequins, +and I had just lost that sum when supper was served. My loss had not +affected my spirits, and the lady finding me at once hungry and gay +paid the bet with a good grace. At supper I surprised her in certain +side-glances, which warned me that she was going to try to dupe me; I +felt myself safe as far as love was concerned, but I had reason to +dread fortune, always the friend of those who keep a bank at faro, +especially as I had already lost. I should have done well to go, but +I had not the strength; all I could do was to promise myself that I +would be extremely prudent. Having large sums in paper money and +plenty of gold, it was not difficult for me to be careful. + +Just after supper the Marquis de Prie made a bank of about three +hundred sequins. His staking this paltry sum shewed me that I had +much to lose and little to win, as it was evident that he would have +made a bank of a thousand sequins if he had had them. I put down +fifty Portuguese crowns, and said that as soon as I had lost them I +should go to bed. In the middle of the third deal I broke the bank. + +"I am good for another two hundred louis," said the marquis. + +"I should be glad to continue playing," I replied, "if I had not to +go at day-break"; and I thereupon left the room. + +Just as I was going to bed, Desarmoises came and asked me to lend him +twelve louis. I had expected some such request, and I counted them +out to him. He embraced me gratefully, and told me that Madame +Zeroli had sworn to make me stay on at least for another day. I +smiled and called Le Duc, and asked him if my coachman knew that I +was starting early; he replied that he would be at the door by five +o'clock. + +"Very good," said Desarmoises, "but I will wager that you will not go +for all that." + +He went out and I went to bed, laughing at his prophecy. + +At five o'clock next morning the coachman came to tell me that one of +the horses was ill and could not travel. I saw that Desarmoises had +had an inkling of some plot, but I only laughed. I sent the man +roughly about his business, and told Le Duc to get me post-horses at +the inn. The inn-keeper came and told me that there were no horses, +and that it would take all the morning to find some, as the Marquis +de Prie, who was leaving at one o'clock in the morning, had emptied +his stables. I answered that in that case I would dine at Aix, but +that I counted on his getting me horses by two o'clock in the +afternoon. + +I left the room and went to the stable, where I found the coachman +weeping over one of his horses stretched out on the straw. I thought +it was really an accident, and consoled the poor devil, paying him as +if he had done his work, and telling him I should not want him any +more. I then went towards the fountain, but the reader will be +astonished by a meeting of the most romantic character, but which is +yet the strict truth. + +At a few paces from the fountain I saw two nuns coming from it. They +were veiled, but I concluded from their appearance that one was young +and the other old. There was nothing astonishing in such a sight, +but their habit attracted my attention, for it was the same as that +worn by my dear M---- M----, whom I had seen for the last time on +July 24th, 1755, five years before. The look of them was enough, not +to make me believe that the young nun was M---- M----, but to excite +my curiosity. They were walking towards the country, so I turned to +cut them off that I might see them face to face and be seen of them. +What was my emotion when I saw the young nun, who, walking in front, +and lifting her veil, disclosed the veritable face of M---- M----. +I could not doubt that it was she, and I began to walk beside her; +but she lowered her veil, and turned to avoid me. + +The reasons she might have for such a course passed in a moment +through my mind, and I followed her at a distance, and when she had +gone about five hundred paces I saw her enter a lonely house of poor +appearance that was enough for me. I returned to the fountain to see +what I could learn about the nun. + +On my way there I lost myself in a maze of conjectures. + +"The too charming and hapless M---- M----," said I to myself, "must +have left her convent, desperate--nay, mad; for why does she still +wear the habit of her order? Perhaps, though, she has got a +dispensation to come here for the waters; that must be the reason why +she has a nun with her, and why she has not left off her habit. At +all events the journey must have been undertaken under false +pretences. Has she abandoned herself to some fatal passion, of which +the result has been pregnancy? She is doubtless perplexed, and must +have been pleased to see me. I will not deceive her expectations; I +will do all in my power to convince her that I am worthy of her." + +Lost in thought I did not notice I had arrived at the fountain, round +which stood the whole host of gamesters. They all crowded round me, +and said how charmed they were to see me still there. I asked the +Chevalier Zeroli after his wife, and he told me she was still abed, +and that it would be a good thing if I would go and make her get up. +I was just going when the doctor of the place accosted me, saying, +that the waters of the Aix would increase my good health. Full of +the one idea, I asked him directly if he were the doctor in +attendance on a pretty nun I had seen. + +"She takes the waters," he replied, "but she does not speak to +anyone." + +"Where does she come from?" + +"Nobody knows; she lives in a peasant's house." + +I left the doctor, and instead of going towards the inn, where the +hussy Zeroli was doubtless waiting for me, I made my way towards the +peasant's house, which already seemed to me the temple of the most +blissful deities, determined to obtain the information I required as +prudently as might be. But as if love had favoured my vows, when I +was within a hundred paces of the cottage I saw the peasant woman +coming out to meet me. + +"Sir," said she, accosting me, "the young nun begs you to return this +evening at nine o'clock; the lay-sister will be asleep then, and she +will be able to speak freely to you." + +There could be no more doubt. My heart leapt with joy. I gave the +country-woman a louis, and promised to be at the house at nine +exactly. + +With the certainty of seeing my dear M---- M---- again I returned to +the inn, and on ascertaining which was Madame Zeroli's room I entered +without ceremony, and told her that her husband had sent me to make +her get up. + +"I thought you were gone?" + +"I am going at two." + +I found her still more enticing in bed than at table. I helped her +to put on her stays, and the sight of her charms inflamed my ardour, +but I experienced more resistance than I had anticipated. I sat down +at the foot of the bed, and told her how fervently I loved her, and +how unhappy I was at not being able to give her marks of my love +before I left. + +"But," said she, laughing, "you have only got to stay." + +"Give me some hope, and I will stay till to-morrow." + +"You are in too much of a hurry, take things more quietly." + +I contented myself with the few favours she granted me, pretending as +usual only to yield to violence, when I was obliged to restrain +myself on the appearance of her husband, who took the precaution of +making a noise before he carne in. As soon as she saw him, she said, +without the slightest perturbation, "I have persuaded the gentleman +to stay tell the day after to-morrow." + +"I am all the more pleased to hear it, my dear," said the chevalier, +"as I owe him his revenge." + +With these words he took up a pack of cards, which came as readily to +his hands as if they had been placed there on purpose, and seating +himself beside his wife, whom he made into the table, he began to +deal. + +I could not draw back, and as my thoughts were distracted I kept on +losing till they came to tell me dinner was ready. + +"I have no time to dress," said the lady, "so I will have my dinner +in bed, if you gentlemen will keep me company." + +How could I refuse? The husband went out to order the dinner, and +feeling myself authorized by the loss of twenty Louis, I told the +hussy that if she would not give me a plain promise to make me happy +that afternoon I should go away when I had had my dinner. + +"Breakfast with me to-morrow morning. We shall be alone." + +After receiving from her certain earnests of her promise, I promised +to stay on. + +We dined by her bedside, and I told Le Duc that I should not be going +till the afternoon of the next day, which made the husband and wife +radiant. When we had done, the lady said she would like to get up; +and I went out, promising to return and play piquet with her. I +proceeded to reline my purse, and I met Desarmoises, who said, + +"I have found out the secret; they gave her coachman two Louis to +substitute a sick horse for his own." + +"It's a matter of give and take," said I; "I am in love with the +chevalier's wife, and I am putting off my departure till I have got +all I want out of her." + +"I am afraid you will have to pay pretty dearly for your pleasure. +However, I will do what I can for your interests." + +I thanked him smilingly, and returned to the lady, whom I left at +eight o'clock under pretext of a violent headache, after having lost +ten louis to her. I reminded her of her promise for next morning at +nine o'clock, and I left her in the midst of the company. + +It was a fine moonlight night as I walked towards the peasant's +house, where I was to see my dear M---- M---- once more. I was +impatient to see what the visit, on which the rest of my life might +depend, would bring forth. + +I had taken the precaution to provide myself with a pair of pistols, +and my sword hung at my side, for I was not wholly devoid of +suspicion in this place, where there were so many adventurers; but at +twenty paces from the cottage I saw the woman coming towards me. She +told me that the nun could not come down, so I must be content to +enter through the window, by means of a ladder which she had placed +there for the purpose. I drew near, and not seeing any light I +should not have easily decided on going up, if I had not heard the +voice I thought I knew so well, saying, "Fear nothing; come." +Besides, the window was not very high up, and there could not be much +danger of a trap. I ascended, and thought for certain that I held my +dear M---- M---- in my arms, as I covered her face with my ardent +kisses. + +"Why," said I, in Venetian, "have you not a light? I hope you are +going to inform me of an event which seems wonderful to me; quick, +dearest, satisfy my impatience." + +The reader will guess my surprise when he learns that on hearing her +voice close to me I found that she was not M---- M----. She told me +that she did not understand Venetian, and that I did not require a +light to tell her what M. de Coudert had decided on doing to save +her from her peril. + +"You surprise me; I do not know M. de Coudert. What! Are you not a +Venetian? Are you not the nun I saw this morning?" + +"Hapless one! I have made a mistake. I am the nun you saw this +morning, but I am French. In the name of God keep my counsel and +begone, for I have nothing to say to you! Whisper, for if the lay- +sister woke up I should be undone." + +"Do not be afraid of my discretion. What deceived me was your exact +likeness to a nun of your order who will be always dear to me: and if +you had not allowed me to see your features I should not have +followed you. Forgive the tenderness I shewed towards you, though +you must think me very audacious." + +"You astonished me very much, but you did not offend me. I wish I +were the nun in whom you are interested. I am on the brink of a +fearful precipice." + +"If ten louis are any good to you, it will be an honour for me to +give you them." + +"Thank you, I have no need of money. Allow me to give you back the +louis you sent me this morning." + +"The louis was for the country-woman. You increase my surprise; pray +tell me what is the misfortune under which you labour, for which +money can do nothing." + +"Perhaps God has sent you to my aid. Maybe you will give me good +advice. Listen to what I am about to tell you." + +"I am at your service, and I will listen with the greatest attention. +Let us sit down." + +"I am afraid there is neither seat nor bed." + +"Say on, then; we will remain standing." + +"I come from Grenoble. I was made to take the veil at Chamberi. Two +years after my profession, M. de Coudert found means to see me. I +received him in the convent garden, the walls of which he scaled, and +at last I was so unfortunate as to become pregnant. The idea of +giving birth to a child at the convent was too dreadful--I should +have languished till I died in a terrible dungeon--and M. de Coudert +thought of a plan for taking me out of the convent. A doctor whom he +gained over with a large sum of money declared that I should die +unless I came here to take the waters, which he declared were the +only cure for my illness. A princess whom M. de Coudert knew was +partly admitted to the secret, and she obtained the leave of absence +for three months from the Bishop of Chamberi, and the abbess +consented to my going. + +"I thus hoped to be delivered before the expiration of the three +months; but I have assuredly made a mistake, for the time draws to an +end and I feel no signs of a speedy delivery. I am obliged to return +to the convent, and yet I cannot do so. The lay-sister who is with +me is a perfect shrew. She has orders not to let me speak to +anybody, and never to let my face be seen. She it was who made me +turn when she saw you following us. I lifted my veil for you to see +that I was she of whom I thought you were in search, and happily the +lay-sister did not notice me. She wants me to return with her to the +convent in three days, as she thinks I have an incurable dropsy. She +does not allow me to speak to the doctor, whom I might, perhaps, have +gained over by telling him the truth. I am only twenty-one, and yet +I long for death." + +"Do not weep so, dear sister, and tell me how you expect to be +delivered here without the lay-sister being aware of it?" + +"The worthy woman with whom I am staying is an angel of goodness. I +have confided in her, and she promised me that when I felt the pangs +coming on she would give that malicious woman a sporific, and thus we +should be freed from all fears of her. By virtue of the drug she now +sleeps soundly in the room under this garret." + +"Why was I not let in by the door?" + +"To prevent the woman's brother seeing you; he is a rude boor." + +"What made you think that I had anything to do with M. de Coudert?" + +"Ten or twelve days ago, I wrote to him and told him of my dreadful +position. I painted my situation with such lively colours that I +thought he must do all in his power to help me. As the wretched +cling to every straw, I thought, when I saw you following me, that +you were the deliverer he had sent." + +"Are you sure he got your letter?" + +"The woman posted it at Anneci." + +"You should write to the princess." + +"I dare not." + +"I will see her myself, and I will see M. de Coudert. In fine, I +will move heaven and earth, I will even go to the bishop, to obtain +an extension of your leave; for it is out of the question for you to +return to the convent in your present situation. You must decide, +for I can do nothing without your consent. Will you trust in me? +If so, I will bring you a man's clothes to-morrow and take you to +Italy with me, and while I live I swear I will care for you." + +For reply, I only heard long-drawn sobs, which distressed me beyond +words, for I felt acutely the situation of this poor creature whom +Heaven had made to be a mother, and whom the cruelty of her parents +had condemned to be a useless nun. + +Not knowing what else to say, I took her hand and promised to return +the next day and hear her decision, for it was absolutely necessary +that she should decide on some plan. I went away by the ladder, and +gave a second louis to the worthy woman, telling her that I should be +with her on the morrow at the same hour, but that I should like to be +able to enter by the door. I begged her to give the lay-sister a +stronger dose of opium, so that there should be no fear of her +awaking while I talked with the young nun. + +I went to bed glad at heart that I had been wrong in thinking that +the nun was M---- M----. Nevertheless the great likeness between +them made me wish to see her nearer at hand, and I was sure that she +would not refuse me the privilege of looking at her the next day. I +smiled at the thought of the ardent kisses I had given her, but I +felt that I could not leave her to her fate. I was glad to find that +I did not need any sensual motive to urge me to a good deed, for as +soon as I found that it was not M---- M---- who had received those +tender kisses I felt ashamed of having given them. I had not even +given her a friendly kiss when I left her. + +In the morning Desarmoises came and told me that all the company, not +seeing me at supper, had been puzzling itself to find out what had +become of me. Madame Zeroli had spoken enthusiastically about me, +and had taken the jests of the two other ladies in good part, +boasting that she could keep me at Aix as long as she remained there +herself. The fact was that I was not amorous but curious where she +was concerned, and I should have been sorry to have left the place +without obtaining complete possession of her, for once at all events. + +I kept my appointment, and entered her room at nine o'clock exactly. +I found her dressed, and on my reproaching her she said that it +should be of no consequence to me whether she were dressed or +undressed. I was angry, and I took my chocolate without so much as +speaking to her. When I had finished she offered me my revenge at +piquet, but I thanked her and begged to be excused, telling her that +in the humour in which she had put me I should prove the better +player, and that I did not care to win ladies' money. So saying I +rose to leave the room. + +"At least be kind enough to take me to the fountain." + +"I think not. If you take me for a freshman, you make a mistake, and +I don't care to give the impression that I am pleased when I am +displeased. You can get whomsoever you please to take you to the +fountain, but as for me I must beg to be excused. Farewell, madam." + +With these words I went out, paying no attention to her efforts to +recall me. + +I found the inn-keeper, and told him that I must leave at three +o'clock without a fail. The lady, who was at her window, could hear +me. I went straight to the fountain where the chevalier asked me +what had become of his wife, and I answered that I had left her in +her room in perfect health. In half an hour we saw her coming with a +stranger, who was welcomed by a certain M. de St. Maurice. Madame +Zeroli left him, and tacked herself on to me, as if there had been +nothing the matter. I could not repulse her without the most +troublesome consequences, but I was very cold. After complaining of +my conduct she said that she had only been trying me, that if I +really loved her I should put off my departure, and that I should +breakfast with her at eight o'clock the next day. I answered coolly +that I would think it over. I was serious all dinner-time, and said +once or twice that I must go at three o'clock, but as I wanted to +find some pretext for staying on account of the nun, I let myself be +persuaded into making a bank at faro. + +I staked all the gold I had, and I saw every face light up as I put +down about four hundred louis in gold, and about six hundred francs +in silver. "Gentlemen," said I, "I shall rise at eight o'clock +precisely." The stranger said, with a smile, that possibly the bank +might not live so long, but I pretended not to understand him. It +was just three o'clock. I begged Desarmoises to be my croupier, and +I began to deal with due deliberation to eighteen or twenty punters, +all professional gamblers. I took a new pack at every deal. + +By five o'clock I had lost money. We heard carriage wheels, and they +said it was three Englishmen from Geneva, who were changing horses to +go on to Chamberi. A moment after they came in, and I bowed. It was +Mr. Fox and his two friends, who had played quinze with me. My +croupier gave them cards, which they received gladly, and went ten +louis, playing on two and three cards, going paroli, seven and the +'va', as well as the 'quinze', so that my bank was in danger of +breaking. However, I kept up my face, and even encouraged them to +play, for, God being neutral, the chances were in my favour. So it +happened, and at the third deal I had cleared the Englishmen out, and +their carriage was ready. + +While I was shuffling a fresh pack of cards, the youngest of them +drew out of his pocket-book a paper which he spewed to his two +companions. It was a bill of exchange. "Will you stake the value of +this bill on a card, without knowing its value?" said he. + +"Yes," I replied, "if you will tell me upon whom it is drawn, and +provided that it does not exceed the value of the bank." + +After a rapid glance at the pile of gold before me, he said, "The +bill is not for so large a sum as your bank, and it is payable at +sight by Zappata, of Turin." + +I agreed, he cut, and put his money on an ace, the two friends going +half shares. I drew and drew and drew, but no ace appeared. I had +only a dozen cards left. + +"Sir," said I, calmly to the punter, "you can draw back if you like." + +"No, go on." + +Four cards more, and still no ace; I had only eight cards left. + +"My lord," said I, "it's two to one that I do not hold the ace, I +repeat you can draw back." + +"No, no, you are too generous, go on." + +I continued dealing, and won; I put the bill of exchange in my pocket +without looking at it. The Englishmen shook me by the hand and went +off laughing. I was enjoying the effect this bold stroke had made on +the company, when young Fox came in and with a roar of laughter +begged me to lend him fifty Louis. I counted them out with the +greatest pleasure, and he paid me them back in London three years +later. + +Everyone was curious to know the value of the bill of exchange, but I +was not polite enough to satisfy their curiosity. It was for eight +thousand Piedmontese francs, as I saw as soon as I was alone. +The Englishmen had brought me good luck, for when they had gone +fortune declared for the bank. I rose at eight o'clock, some ladies +having won a few louis, all the others were dried up. I had won more +than a thousand louis, and I gave twenty-five to Desarmoises, who +jumped for joy. I locked up my money, put my pistols in my pocket, +and set out towards the meeting-place. + +The worthy peasant woman brought me in by the door, telling me that +everybody was asleep, and that she had not found it necessary to +renew the lay-sister's dose, as she was still asleep. + +I was terrified. I went upstairs, and by the light of a single +candle I saw the wretched, veiled figure of the nun, extended upon a +sack which the peasant woman had placed along the wall instead of a +sofa. The candle which lighted this dreary place was fixed in a +bottle. + +"What have you decided on doing?" said I. + +"I have decided on nothing, for an unforeseen incident has confounded +us. The lay-sister has been asleep for eighteen hours." + +"She will die of convulsions or of an apoplectic fit to-night if you +do not call a doctor, who may possibly restore her to life with a +dose of castor oil." + +"We have thought of that, but we did not dare to take that step for +fear of consequences; for whether he restores her or not, he will say +that we have poisoned her." + +"I pity you, upon my soul! Indeed, I believe that it is too late, +and that a doctor could do nothing. One must obey the laws of +prudence and let her die. The mischief is done, and I see no +remedy." + +"At any rate, we ought to think of her soul and send for a priest." + +"A priest would do her no good, as she is in a perfect lethargy; her +soul is safe enough. Besides, an ignorant priest would find out too +much, and would tell the whole story either through malice or +stupidity. It will be time to call a priest when she has ceased to +breathe. You must tell him that she died very suddenly; you must +weep a great deal, and give him a fee, and he will think only of +calming your grief, and nothing about the sudden death." + +"Then we must let her die?" + +"We must leave her to nature." + +"If she dies I will send a messenger to the abbess, who will dispatch +another lay-sister." + +"Yes, and that will give you another ten days. During that time you +may be delivered, and you will confess that every cloud has a silver +lining. Do not grieve so, but let us endeavour to submit to the will +of God. Send for the country-woman, for I must give her some hints +as to her conduct in this delicate matter, on which the honour and +life of all three may depend. For instance, if it were discovered +that I had come here, I might be taken for the poisoner." + +The woman came, and I shewed her how necessary it was for her to be +prudent and discreet. She understood me perfectly, perceived her own +dangerous position, and promised that she would not send for the +priest till she was certain of the sister's death. I then made her +accept ten louis in case of need. + +Seeing herself made rich by my liberality, she kissed my hands, knelt +down, and bursting into tears promised to follow my advice carefully. +When she had left us, the nun began to weep bitterly, accusing +herself of the murder of the lay-sister, and thinking that she saw +hell opening beneath her feet. I sought in vain to calm her; her +grief increased, and at last she fell in a dead faint on the sack. I +was extremely distressed, and not knowing what to do I called to the +woman to bring some vinegar, as I had no essences about me. All at +once I remembered the famous hellebore, which had served me so well +with Madame and, taking the little box, I held it to her nostrils. +It took effect just as the woman brought the vinegar. "Rub her +temples," said I. She took off her cap, and the blackness of her +hair was the only thing that convinced me it was not my fair +Venetian. The hellebore having brought her to her senses, she opened +her large black eyes, and from that moment I fell madly in love with +her. The peasant woman, seeing that she was herself again and out of +danger, went away, and taking her between my arms I covered her with +fiery kisses, in spite of her continuous sneezes. + +"Please let me put on my veil again," said she, "or else I shall be +excommunicated." + +I laughed at her fears, and continued to lavish my burning kisses on +her face. + +"I see you do not believe me, but I assure you that the abbess +threatened me with excommunication if I let myself be seen by a man." + +"Fear these bolts no longer, dear, they cannot hurt you." + +But she sneezed more violently than ever, and fearing lest her +efforts might bring on her delivery I called the woman again, and +left the nun in her care, promising to return at the same hour on the +next day. + +It would not have been like me to leave this interesting creature in +her distress, but my devotion to her cause had no merit, since I was +madly in love with this new M---- M---- with black eyes; and love +always makes men selfish, since all the sacrifices they make for the +beloved object are always ultimately referable to their own desires. + +I had determined, then, to do all in my power for her, and certainly +not to allow her to return to the convent in the state she was in. +I concluded that to save her would be an action pleasing to God, +since God alone could have made her so like my beloved, and God had +willed that I should win a good deal of money, and had made me find +the Zeroli, who would serve as a shield to my actions and baffle the +curiosity of spies. The philosophers and the mystics may perhaps +laugh at me, but what do I care? I have always delighted in +referring all the actions of my life to God, and yet people have +charged me with Atheism! + +Next morning I did not forget the Zeroli, and I went to her room at +eight and found her asleep. Her maid begged me to go in quietly for +fear of awakening her, and then left me and shut the door. I knew my +part, for I remembered how, twenty years before, a Venetian lady, +whose sleep I had foolishly respected, had laughed at me and sent me +about my business. I therefore knew what to do; and having gently +uncovered her, I gave myself up to those delicate preliminary +delights which sweeten the final pleasure. The Zeroli wisely +continued to sleep; but at last, conquered by passion, she seconded +my caresses with greater ardour than my own, and she was obliged to +laugh at her stratagem. She told me that her husband had gone to +Geneva to buy a repeating watch, and that he would not return till +next day, and that she could spend the night with me. + +"Why the night, dearest, while we have the day before us? The night +is for slumber, and in the day one enjoys double bliss, since the +light allows all the senses to be satisfied at once. If you do not +expect anybody, I will pass the whole morning with you." + +"Very good; nobody will interrupt us." + +I was soon in her arms, and for four hours we gave ourselves up to +every kind of pleasure, cheating each other the better to succeed, +and laughing with delight each time we convinced each other of our +love. After the last assault she asked me, in return for her +kindness, to spend three more days at Aix. + +"I promise you," I said, "to stay here as long as you continue giving +me such marks of your love as you have given me this morning." + +"Let us get up, then, and go to dinner." + +"In company, dearest? Look at your eyes." + +"All the better. People will guess what has happened, and the two +countesses will burst with envy. I want everybody to know that it is +for me alone that you are remaining at Aix." + +"I am not worth the trouble, my angel, but so be it; I will gladly +oblige you, even though I lose all my money in the next three days." + +"I should be in despair if you lost; but if you abstain from punting +you will not lose, though you may let yourself be robbed." + +"You may be sure that I know what I am about, and that I shall only +allow ladies to rob me. You have had some money out of me yourself." + +"Yes, but not nearly so much as the countesses, and I am sorry you +allowed them to impose on you, as they no doubt put it down to your +being in love with them." + +"They are quite wrong, poor dears, for neither would have kept me +here a day." + +"I am delighted to hear it. But let me tell you what the Marquis of +St. Maurice was saying about you yesterday." + +"Say on. I hope he did not allow himself any offensive remarks." + +"No; he only said that you should never have offered the Englishman +to be off at eight cards, as you had as much chance as he, and if he +had won he might have thought that you knew the card was there." + +"Very good, but tell the marquis that a gentleman is incapable of +such a thought, and besides I knew the character of the young +nobleman, and I was almost sure he would not accept my offer." + +When we appeared in the dining-room we were received with applause. +The fair Zeroli had the air of regarding me as her property, and I +affected an extremely modest manner. No one dared to ask me to make +a bank after dinner; the purses were too empty, and they contented +themselves with trente-quarante, which lasted the whole day, and +which cost me a score of louis. + +I stole away as usual towards evening, and after having ordered Le +Duc not to leave my room for a moment during my stay at Aix, I went +towards the cottage where the unfortunate nun was no doubt expecting +me anxiously. Soon, in spite of the darkness, I thought I made out +somebody following me. I stopped short, and some persons passed me. +In two or three minutes I went on again, and I saw the same people, +whom I could not have caught up if they had not slackened their pace. +It might all be accidental, but I wanted to be sure about it. I left +the road without losing my reckoning, feeling quite sure of finding +my way when I ceased to be followed; but I soon felt sure that my +steps were dogged, as I saw the same shadowy figures at a little +distance off. I doubled my speed, hid behind a tree, and as soon as +I saw the spies fired a pistol in the air. I looked round shortly +after, saw no one, and went on my way. + +I went upstairs and found the nun in bed, with two candles on the +table. + +"Are you ill?" + +"I was ill for a time, but praised be God! I am now quite well, +having given birth to a fine boy at two o'clock this morning." + +"Where is the child?" + +"Alas! I did but kiss him once, and my good hostess carried him away +I know not where. The Holy Virgin heard my prayers, for my pains, +though sharp, were soon over, and a quarter of an hour after my +delivery I was still sneezing. Tell me whether you are a man or an +angel, for I fear lest I sin in adoring you." + +"This is good news indeed. And how about the lay-sister?" + +She still breathes, but we have no hope that she will recover. Her +face is terribly distorted. We have sinned exceedingly, and God will +punish me for it." + +"No, dearest, God will forgive you, for the Most Holy judges by the +heart, and in your heart you had no evil thoughts. Adore Divine +Providence, which doeth all things well." + +"You console me. The country-woman assures me that you are an angel, +for the powder you gave me delivered me. I shall never forget you, +though I do not know your name." + +The woman then came, and I thanked her for the care she had taken of +the invalid. I again warned her to be prudent, and above all to +treat the priest well when the lay-sister breathed her last, and thus +he would not take notice of anything that might involve leer in +disaster. + +"All will be well," said she, "for no one knows if the lay-sister is +well or ill, or why the lady does not leave her bed." + +"What have you done with the child?" + +"I took him with my own hands to Anneci, where I bought everything +necessary for the well-being of this lady and for the death of the +other one." + +"Doesn't your brother know anything about it?" + +"Lord preserve us--no! He went away yesterday, and will not be back +for a week. We have nothing to fear." + +I gave her another ten louis, begging her to buy some furniture, and +to get me something to eat by the time I came next day. She said she +had still plenty of money left, and I thought she would go mad when I +told her that whatever was over was her own. I thought the invalid +stood in need of rest, and I left her, promising to return at the +same hour on the following day. + +I longed to get this troublesome matter safely over, and I knew that +I could not regard myself as out of the wood till the poor lay-sister +was under the sod. I was in some fear on this account, for if the +priest was not an absolute idiot he must see that the woman had been +poisoned. + +Next morning I went to see the fair Zeroli, and I found her and her +husband examining the watch he had bought her. He came up to me, +took my hand, and said he was happy that his wife had the power to +keep me at Aix. I replied that it was an easy task for her, and a +"bravo" was all he answered. + +The chevalier was one of those men who prefer to pass for good- +natured than foolish husbands. His wife took my arm, and we left him +in his room while we proceeded to the fountain. On the way she said +she would be alone the next day, and that she would no longer indulge +her curiosity in my nocturnal excursions. + +"Oh! it is you who have had me followed, is it?" + +"No, it is I who followed you, but to no effect. However, I did not +think you were so wicked. You frightened me dreadfully! Do you +know, sir, you might have killed me if your shot had not luckily +missed." + +"I missed on purpose, dearest; for though I did not suspect that it +was you, I fired in the air, feeling certain that that would be +enough to scare off the spies." + +"You won't be troubled with them any more." + +"If they like to follow me, perhaps I shall let them, for my walk is +quite innocent. I am always back by ten." + +While we were at table we saw a travelling carriage and six horses +drawn up. It was the Marquis de Prie, with a Chevalier de St. Louis +and two charming ladies, of whom one, as the Zeroli hastened to +inform me, was the Marquis's mistress. Four places were laid, and +while the newcomers were waiting to be served, they were told the +story of my bet with the Englishman. + +The marquis congratulated me, telling me that he had not hoped to +find me at Aix on his return; and here Madame Zeroli put in her word, +and said that if it had not been for her he would not have seen me +again. I was getting used to her foolish talk, and I could only +agree with a good grace, which seemed to delight her intensely +although her husband was present, but he seemed to share her triumph. + +The marquis said that he would make a little bank for me, and feeling +obliged to accept I soon lost a hundred louis. I went to my room to +write some letters, and at twilight I set out to see my nun. + +"What news have you?" + +"The lay-sister is dead, and she is to be buried tomorrow. To-morrow +is the day we were to have returned to the convent. This is the +letter I am sending to the abbess. She will dispatch another +laysister, unless she orders the country-woman to bring me back to +the convent." + +"What did the priest say?" + +"He said the lay-sister died of a cerebral lethargy, which super- +induced an attack of apoplexy." + +"Very good, very good." + +"I want him to say fifteen masses for her, if you will let me?" + +"Certainly, my dear, they will serve as the priest's reward, or +rather as the reward of his happy ignorance." + +I called the peasant woman, and gave her the order to have the masses +said, and bade her tell the priest that the masses were to be said +for the intention of the person who paid for them. She told me that +the aspect of the dead sister was dreadful, and that she had to be +guarded by two women who sprinkled her with holy water, lest witches, +under the form of cats, should come and tear her limb from limb. Far +from laughing at her, I told her she was quite right, and asked where +she had got the laudanum. + +"I got it from a worthy midwife, and old friend of mine. We got it +to send the poor lay-sister to sleep when the pains of child-birth +should come on." + +"When you put the child at the hospital door, were you recognized?" + +"Nobody saw me as I put it into the box, and I wrote a note to say +the child had not been baptized." + +"Who wrote the note?" + +"I did." + +"You will, of course, see that the funeral is properly carried out?" + +"It will only cost six francs, and the parson will take that from two +louis which were found on the deceased; the rest will do for masses +to atone for her having had the money." + +"What! ought she not to have had the two louis?" + +"No," said the nun, "we are forbidden to have any money without the +knowledge of the abbess, under pain of excommunication." + +"What did they give you to come here?" + +"Ten Savoy sols a day. But now I live like a princess, as you shall +see at supper, for though this worthy woman knows the money you gave +her is for herself she lavishes it on me." + +"She knows, dear sister, that such is my intention, and here is some +more to go on with." + +So saying I took another ten louis from my purse, and bade the +country-woman spare nothing for the invalid's comfort. I enjoyed the +worthy woman's happiness; she kissed my hands, and told me that I had +made her fortune, and that she could buy some cows now. + +As soon as I was alone with the charming nun, whose face recalled to +my memory the happy hours I had passed with M---- M----, my +imagination began to kindle, and drawing close to her I began to talk +of her seducer, telling her I was surprised that be had not helped +her in the cruel position in which he had placed her. She replied +that she was debarred from accepting any money by her vow of poverty +and obedience, and that she had given up to the abbess what remained +of the alms the bishop had procured her. + +"As to my state when I was so fortunate as to meet you, I think he +cannot have received my letter." + +"Possibly, but is he a rich or handsome man?" + +"He is rich but certainly not handsome. On the contrary, he is +extremely ugly, deformed, and over fifty." + +"How did you become amorous of a fellow like that?" + +"I never loved him, but he contrived to gain my pity. I thought he +would kill himself, and I promised to be in the garden on the night +he appointed, but I only went there with the intention of bidding him +begone, and he did so, but after he had carried his evil designs into +effect." + +"Did he use violence towards you, then?" + +"No, for that would have been no use. He wept, threw himself on his +knees, and begged so hard, that I let him do what he liked on the +condition that he would not kill himself, and that he would come no +more to the garden." + +"Had you no fear of consequences?" + +"I did not understand anything about it; I always thought that one +could not conceive under three times at least." + +"Unhappy ignorance! how many woes are caused by it! Then he did not +ask you to give him any more assignations?" + +"He often asked me, but I would not grant his request because our +confessor made me promise to withstand him thenceforth, if I wished +to be absolved." + +"Did you tell him the name of the seducer?" + +"Certainly not; the good confessor would not have allowed me to do +so; it would have been a great sin." + +"Did you tell your confessor the state you were in?" + +"No, but he must have guessed it. He is a good old man, who +doubtless prayed to God for me, and my meeting you was, perhaps, the +answer to his prayers." + +I was deeply moved, and for a quarter of an hour I was silent, and +absorbed in my thoughts. I saw that this interesting girl's +misfortune proceeded from her ignorance, her candour, her perfect +innocence, and a foolish feeling of pity, which made her grant this +monster of lubricity a thing of which she thought little because she +had never been in love. She was religious, but from mere habit and +not from reflection, and her religion was consequently very weak. +She abhorred sin, because she was obliged to purge herself of it by +confession under pain of everlasting damnation, and she did not want +to be damned. She had plenty of natural common sense, little wit, +for the cultivation of which she had no opportunities, and she was in +a state of ignorance only pardonable in a nun. On weighing these +facts I foresaw that I should find it a difficult task to gain those +favours which she had granted to Coudert; her repentance had been +too bitter for her to expose herself to the same danger over again. + +The peasant woman returned, laid the table for two, and brought us +our supper. Everything was new--napkins, plates, glasses, spoons, +knives, etc., and everything was exquisitely clean. The wines were +excellent, and the dishes delightful in their simplicity. We had +roast game, fish, cheese with cream, and very good fruit. I spent an +hour and a half at supper, and drank two bottles of wine as I talked +to the nun, who ate very little. + +I was in the highest spirits, and the woman, delighted with my praise +of her provision, promised I should be served the same way every +evening. + +When I was alone with the nun, whose face filled me with such burning +recollections, I began to speak of her health, and especially of the +inconveniences attached to child-birth. She said she felt quite +well, and would be able to return to Chamberi on foot. "The only +thing that troubles me is my breasts, but the woman assures me that +the milk will recede to-morrow, and that they will then assume their +usual shape." + +"Allow me to examine them, I know something about it." + +"Look!" + +She uncovered her bosom, not thinking it would give me any pleasure, +but wishing to be polite, without supposing I had any concealed +desires. I passed my hands over two spheres whose perfect shape and +whiteness would have restored Lazarus to life. I took care not to +offend her modesty, but in the coolest manner possible asked her how +she felt a little lower down, and as I put the question I softly +extended my hand. However, she kept it back gently, telling me not +to go any further as she still felt a little uneasy. I begged her +pardon, and said I hoped I should find everything quite right by the +next day. + +"The beauty of your bosom," I added, "makes me take a still greater +interest in you." + +So saying I let my mouth meet hers, and I felt a kiss escape as if +involuntarily from her lips. It ran like fire through my veins, my +brain began to whirl, and I saw that unless I took to a speedy flight +I should lose all her confidence. I therefore left her, calling her +"dear daughter" as I bade her farewell. + +It poured with rain, and I got soaked through before I reached my +lodging. This was a bath well fitted to diminish the ardour of my +passion, but it made me very late in rising the next morning. + +I took out the two portraits of M---- M----, one in a nun's dress, +and the other nude, as Venus. I felt sure they would be of service +to me with the nun. + +I did not find the fair Zeroli in her room, so I went to the +fountain, where she reproached me with a tenderness I assessed at its +proper value, and our quarrel was made up in the course of our walk. +When dinner was over the Marquis the Prie made a bank, but as he only +put down a hundred louis I guessed that he wanted to win a lot and +lose a little. I put down also a hundred louis, and he said that it +would be better sport if I did not stake my money on one card only. +I replied that I would stake a louis on each of the thirteen. + +"You will lose." + +"We will see. Here is my hand on the table, and I stake a louis on +each of the thirteen cards." + +According to the laws of probability, I should certainly have lost, +but fate decided otherwise and I won eighty louis. At eight o'clock +I bowed to the company, and I went as usual to the place where my new +love dwelt. I found the invalid ravishing. She said she had had a +little fever, which the country-woman pronounced to be milk fever, +and that she would be quite well and ready to get up by the next day. +As I stretched out my hand to lift the coverlet; she seized it and +covered it with kisses, telling me that she felt as if she must give +me that mark of her filial affection. She was twenty-one, and I was +thirty-five. A nice daughter for a man like me! My feelings for her +were not at all of a fatherly character. Nevertheless, I told her +that her confidence in me, as shewn by her seeing me in bed, +increased my affection for her, and that I should be grieved if I +found her dressed in her nun's clothes next day. + +"Then I will stop in bed," said she; "and indeed I shall be very glad +to do so, as I experience great discomfort from the heat of my +woollen habit; but I think I should please you more if I were +decently dressed; however, as you like it better, I will stop in +bed." + +The country-woman came in at that moment, and gave her the abbess' +letter which her nephew had just brought from Chamberi. She read it +and gave it to me. The abbess told her that she would send two lay- +sisters to bring her back to the convent, and that as she had +recovered her health she could come on-foot, and thus save money +which could be spent in better ways. She added that as the bishop +was away, and she was unable to send the lay-sisters without his +permission, they could not start for a week or ten days. She ordered +her, under pain of the major excommunication, never to leave her +room, never to speak to any man, not even to the master of the house, +and to have nothing to do with anybody except with the woman. She +ended by saying that she was going to have a mass said for the repose +of the departed sister's soul. + +"I am obliged to you for having shewn me this letter, but be pleased +to tell me if I may visit you for the next week or ten days, without +doing hurt to your conscience; for I must tell you I am a man. I +have only stopped in this place because of the lively interest with +which you have inspired me, but if you have the least objection to +receive me on account of the singular excommunication with which you +are threatened, I will leave Aix tomorrow. Speak." + +"Sir, our abbess is lavish of these thunders, and I have already +incurred the excommunication with which she threatens me; but I hope +it will not be ratified by God, as my fault has made me happy and not +miserable. I will be sincere with you; your visits are my only joy, +and that joy is doubled when you tell me you like to come. But if +you can answer my question without a breach of confidence, I should +like to know for whom you took me the first time you saw me; you +cannot imagine how you astonished and frightened me. I have never +felt such kisses as those you lavished on me, but they cannot +increase my sin as I was not a consenting party, and you told me +yourself that you thought you were kissing another." + +"I will satisfy your curiosity. I think I can do so as you are aware +by this time that the flesh is weak, or rather stronger than the +spirit, and that it compels the strongest intellects to commit faults +against right reason. You shall hear the history of an amour that +lasted for two years with the fairest and the best of all the nuns of +Venice." + +"Tell me all, sir. I have fallen myself, and I should be cruel and +unjust if I were to take offence at anything you may tell me, for you +cannot have done anything with her that Coudert did not do to me." + +"I did much more and much less, for I never gave her a child. If I +had been so unfortunate I should have carried her off to Rome, where +we should have fallen at the feet of the Holy Father, who would have +absolved her from her vows, and my dear M---- M---- would now be my +wife." + +"Good heavens M---- M---- is my name." + +This circumstance, which was really a mere coincidence, rendered our +meeting still more wonderful, and astonished me as much as it did +her. Chance is a curious and fickle element, but it often has the +greatest influence on our lives. + +After a brief silence I told her all that had taken place between the +fair Venetian and myself. I painted our amorous combats in a lively +and natural manner, for, besides my recollections, I had her living +picture before my eyes, and I could follow on her features the +various emotions aroused by my recital. When I had finished she +said, + +"But is your M---- M---- really so like me, that you mistook me for +her?" + +Drawing from my pocket-book the portrait in which M---- M---- was +dressed as a nun, I gave it to her, saying, + +"Judge for yourself." + +"She really is; it might pass for my portrait. It is my dress and my +face; it is wonderful. To this likeness I owe all my good fortune. +Thanks be to God that you do not love me as you loved her, whom I am +glad to call my sister. There are indeed two M---- M----s. Mighty +Providence, all Thy least ways are wonderful, and we are at best +poor, weak, ignorant mortals." + +The worthy country-woman came up and have us a still better supper +than on the previous night. The invalid only ate soup, but she +promised to do better by the following evening. + +I spent an hour with her after supper, and I convinced her by my +reserve that she had made a mistake in thinking that I only loved her +as a daughter. Of her own accord she shewed me that her breast had +regained its usual condition. I assured myself of the fact by my +sense of touch, to which she made no opposition, not thinking that I +could be moved by such a trifle. All the kisses which I lavished on +her lips and eyes she put down to the friendship for her. She said, +smiling, that she thanked God she was not fair like her sister, and I +smiled myself at her simplicity. + +But I could not keep up this sort of thing for long, and I had to be +extremely careful. As soon as I felt that passion was getting the +upper hand, I gave her a farewell kiss and went away. When I got +home Le Duc gave me a note from Madame Zeroli, who said she would +expect me at the fountain, as she was going to breakfast with the +marquis's mistress. + +I slept well, but in my dreams I saw again and again the face of the +new M---- M----. Next day, as soon as I got to the fountain, Madame +Zeroli told me that all the company maintained that I ought to have +lost in playing on thirteen cards at once, as it was not true that +one card won four times in each deal; however, the marquis, though he +agreed with the rest, had said that he would not let me play like +that again. + +"I have only one objection to make to that--namely, that if I wanted +to play in the same way again he could only prevent me by fighting +for it." + +"His mistress swears she will make you play in the usual way." + +I smiled, and thanked her for her information. + +When I got back to the inn I played a game of quinze with the +marquis, and lost fifty louis; afterwards I let myself be persuaded +to hold a bank. I put down five hundred louis, and defied fortune. +Desarmoises was my croupier, and I warned the company that every card +must have the stake placed on it, and that I should rise at half-past +seven. I was seated between two ladies. I put the five hundred +louis on the board, and I got change from the inn-keeper to the +amount of a hundred crowns, to amuse the ladies with. But something +happened. All the cards before me were loose packs, and I called for +new ones. The inn-keeper said he had sent to Chamberi for a hundred +packs, and that the messenger would be back soon. + +"In the meanwhile," said he, "you can use the cards on the table, +which are as good as new." + +"I want them new, not as good as new. I have my prejudices, and they +are so strong as to be invincible. In the meanwhile I shall remain a +spectator, though I am sorry to keep the ladies waiting." + +Nobody dared say a word, and I rose, after replacing my money in my +cash-box. The Marquis de Prie took the bank, and played splendidly. +I stood beside Madame Zeroli, who made me her partner, and gave me +five or six Louis the next day. The messenger who was to be back +soon did not return till midnight, and I thanked my stars for the +escape I had had, for in such a place, full of professional +gamesters, there are people whose eyes are considerably sharper than +a lynx's. I put the money back in my room, and proceeded on my usual +way. + +I found my fair nun in bed, and asked her, + +"How do you feel to-day, madam?" + +"Say daughter, that name is so sweet to me that I would you were my +father that I might clasp you in my arms without fearing anyone." + +"Well, my dear daughter, do not fear anything, but open your arms to +me." + +"I will; we will embrace one another." + +"My little ones are prettier than they were yesterday let me suck +them." + +"You silly papa, you are drinking your daughter's milk." + +"It is so sweet, darling, and the little drop I tasted has made me +feel so happy. You cannot be angry at my enjoying this harmless +privilege." + +"Of course I am not angry; you delighted me. But I shall have to +call you baby, not papa." + +"How glad I am to find you in better spirits to-night!" + +"You have 'given me back my happiness, and I feel at peace once more. +The country-woman told me that in a few days I should be just the +same as if I had never seen Coudert." + +"That is not quite true; how about your stomach, for instance?" + +"Be quiet; you can't know anything about such things, and I am quite +astonished myself." + +"Let me see." + +"Oh, no; you mustn't see, but you may feel." + +"All right." + +"Oh! please don't go there." + +"Why not? You can't be made differently from your sister, who would +be now about thirty. I want to shew you her portrait naked." + +"Have you got it with you? I should so like to see it." + +I drew it out and gave it to her. She admired it, kissed it, and +asked me if the painter had followed nature in all respects. + +"Certainly," said I. "She knew that such a picture would give me +pleasure." + +"It is very fine. It is more like me than the other picture. But I +suppose the long hair is only put in to please you?" + +"Not at all. Italian nuns are allowed to wear their hair as long as +they please, provided they do not shew it. + +"We have the same privilege. Our hair is cut once, and then we may +let it grow as long as we like." + + +"Then you have long hair?" + +"As long as in the picture; but you would not like my hair as it is +black." + +"Why, black is my favourite colour. In the name of God, let me see +it." + +"You ask me in God's name to commit a sin; I shall incur another +excommunication, but I cannot refuse you anything. You shall see my +hair after supper, as I don't want to scandalize the countrywoman." + +"You are right; I think you are the sweetest of your sex. I shall +die of grief when you leave this cottage to return to your sad +prison." + +"I must indeed return and do penance for my sins." + +"I hope you have the wit to laugh at the abbess's silly +excommunications?" + +"I begin not to dread them so much as I used to." + +"I am delighted to hear it, as I see you will make me perfectly happy +after supper." + +The country-woman came up, and I gave her another ten louis; but it +suddenly dawned upon me that she took me for a madman. To disabuse +her of this idea I told her that I was very rich, and that I wanted +to make her understand that I could not give her enough to testify my +gratitude to her for the care she had taken of the good nun. She +wept, kissed my hand, and served us a delicious supper. The nun ate +well and drank indifferently, but I was in too great a hurry to see +the beautiful black hair of this victim to her goodness of heart, and +I could not follow her example. The one appetite drove out the +other. + +As soon as we were relieved of the country-woman's presence, she +removed her hood, and let a mass of ebon hair fall upon her alabaster +shoulders, making a truly ravishing contrast. She put the portrait +before her, and proceeded to arrange her hair like the first M---- +M----. + +"You are handsomer than your sister," said I, "but I think she was +more affectionate than you." + +"She may have been more affectionate, but she had not a better +heart." + +"She was much more amorous than you." + +"I daresay; I have never been in love." + +"That is strange; how about your nature and the impulse of the +senses?" + +"We arrange all that easily at the convent. We accuse ourselves to +the confessor, for we know it is a sin, but he treats it as a +childish fault, and absolves us without imposing any penances." + +"He knows human nature, and makes allowances for your sad position." + +"He is an old man, very learned, and of ascetic habits, but he is all +indulgence. It will be a sad day when we lose him." + +"But in your amorous combats with another nun, don't you feel as if +you would like her to change into a man?" + +"You make me laugh. To be sure, if my sweetheart became a man I +should not be sorry, but we do not desire such a miracle." + +"That is, perhaps, through a coldness of temperament. In that your +sister was better, for she liked me much more than C---- C----, and +you do not like me as well as the sweetheart you left behind you at +the convent." + +"Certainly not, for with you I should violate my own chastity and +expose myself to consequences I tremble to think of." + +"You do not love me, then?" + +"What are you saying? I adore you, and I am very sorry you are not a +woman." + +"I love you too, but your desire makes me laugh; for I would rather +not be turned into a woman to please you, especially as I expect I +should not think you nearly as beautiful. Sit down, my dear, and let +me see your fine hair flowing over your beautiful body." + +"Do you want me to take off my chemise?" + +"Of course; how handsome you look without it. Let me suck your +pretty breasts, as I am your baby." + +She granted me this privilege, and looking at me with a face full of +pleasure, she allowed me to press her naked body to my breast, not +seeing, or pretending not to see, the acuteness of my enjoyment. She +then said, + +"If such delights as these were allowed friendship, I should say it +is better than love; for I have never experienced so great pleasure +as when you put your lips to my bosom. Let me do the same to you." + +"I wish you could, but you will find nothing there." + +"Never mind; it will amuse us." + +After she had fulfilled her desire, we spent a quarter of an hour in +mutual embraces, and my excitement was more than I could bear. + +"Tell me truly," said I, "amidst our kisses, amidst these ecstacies +which we call child-like, do you not feel a desire for something +more?" + +"I confess that I do, but such desires are sinful; and as I am sure +that your passions are as high as mine, I think we had better stop +our agreeable employment; for, papa dear, our friendship is becoming +burning love, is it not?" + +"Yes, love, and love that cannot be overcome." + +"I know it." + +"If you know it, let us perform to love the sweetest of all +sacrifices." + +"No, no; on the contrary, let us stop and be more prudent in the +future, lest we become the victims of love. If you love me, you +should say so too." + +With these words she slipped gently from my arms, put back her +beautiful hair under her cap, and when I had helped her on with her +chemise, the coarseness of which horrified me, I told her she might +calm herself. I told her how sorry I felt to see her delicate body +frayed by so coarse a stuff, and she told me it was of the usual +material, and that all the nuns wore chemises of the same kind. + +My mind was in a state of consternation, for the constraint I had +imposed on myself seemed much greater than the utmost pleasure I +could have gained. I neither determined on persevering in nor on +abandoning the pursuit; all I wanted was to be sure that I should not +encounter the least resistance. A folded rose-leaf spoilt the repose +of the famous Smindyrides, who loved a soft bed. I preferred, +therefore, to go away, than to risk finding the rose-leaf which +troubled the voluptuous Sybarite. I left the cottage in love and +unhappy, and as I did not go to bed till two o'clock in the morning I +slept till mid-day. + +When I woke up Le Duc gave me a note which he should have given me +the night before. He had forgotten it, and I was not sorry. The +note came from Madame Zeroli, who said she would expect me at nine +o'clock in the morning, as she would be alone. She told me that she +was going to give a supper-party, that she was sure I would come, and +that as she was leaving Aix directly after, she counted on my coming +too--at any rate, as far as Chamberi. Although I still liked her, +her pretensions made me laugh. It was too late now to be with her at +nine, I could not go to her supper-party because of my fair nun, whom +I would not have left just then for the seraglio of the Grand Turk; +and it was impossible for me to accompany her to Chamberi, as when I +came back I might no longer find the only object which kept me at +Aix. + +However, as soon as I had finished dressing, I went to see her and +found her furious. I excused myself by saying that I had only had +her letter for an hour, but she went away without giving me time to +tell her that I could not sup with her or go to Chamberi with her. +She scowled at me at table, and when the meal was over the Marquis de +Prie told me that they had some new cards, and that everybody was +longing to see me make a bank. I went for my money, and I made a +bank of five hundred louis. At seven o'clock I had lost more than +half that sum, but for all that I put the rest in my pocket and rose +from the table. + +After a sad glance in the direction of Madame Zeroli I went to the +cottage, where I found my angel in a large new bed, with a small but +pretty bed beside it which was meant for me. I laughed at the +incongruity of these pieces of furniture with our surroundings, but +by way of thanking the thoughtful country-woman I drew fifty louis +from my purse and gave them to her, telling her it was for the +remainder of the time the lady was with her, and I told her to spend +no more money in furniture. + +This was done in true gamester fashion. I had lost nearly three +hundred louis, but I had risked more than five hundred, and I looked +on the difference as pure profit. If I had gained as much as I had +lost I should probably have contented myself with giving her ten +louis, but I fancied I was losing the fifty louis on a card. I have +always liked spending money, but I have never been careless with it +except in gaming. + +I was in an ecstasy to see the face of my M---- M----light up with +delight and astonishment. + +"You must be very rich," said she. + +"Don't think it, dearest, but I love you passionately; and not being +able to give you anything by reason of your unfortunate vow of +poverty, I lavish what I possess on this worthy woman, to induce her +to spare nothing for your comfort while you are here. Perhaps, too-- +though it is not a definite thought--I hope that it will make you +love me more." + +"How can I love you more than I do? The only thing that makes me +unhappy is the idea of returning to the convent." + +"But you told me yesterday that it was exactly that idea which made +you happy." + +"I have changed my mind since yesterday. I passed a cruel night, for +as soon as I fell asleep I was in your arms, and I awoke again and +again on the point of consummating the greatest of crimes." + +"You did not go through such a struggle before committing the same +crime with a man you did--not love." + +"It is exactly because I did not love him that my sin struck me as +venial. Do you understand what I mean?" + +"It's a piece of superstitious metaphysics, but I understand you +perfectly." + +"You have made me happy, and I feel very grateful to you, and I feel +glad and certain of conquering when I reflect that your situation is +different to mine." + +"I will not dispute it with you, although I am sorry for what you +say." + +"Why?" + +"Because you think yourself in duty bound to refuse caresses which +would not hurt you, and which would give me new life and happiness." + +"I have thought it over." + +"Are you weeping?" + +"Yes, and what is more, these tears are dear to me." + +"I do not understand." + +"I have two favours to ask of you." + +"Say on, and be sure you will obtain what you ask." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +End of My Adventure with the Nun from Chamberi--My Flight from Aix + + +"Yesterday," said the charming nun, "you left in my hands the two +portraits of my Venetian sister. I want you to give them to me." + +"They are yours." + +"I thank you. My second favour is, that you will be good enough to +take my portrait in exchange; you shall have it to-morrow." + +"I shall be delighted. It will be the most precious of all my +jewels, but I wonder how you can ask me to take it as a favour, +whereas you are doing me a favour I should never have dared to +demand. How shall I make myself worthy of giving you my portrait?" + +"Ah, dearest! it would be a dear possession, but God preserve me +from having it at the convent!" + +"I will get myself painted under the costume of St. Louis of Gonzaga, +or St. Anthony of Padua." + +"I shall be damned eternally." + +"We will say no more about it." + +She had on a dimity corset, trimmed with red ribbon, and a cambric +chemise. I was surprised, but politeness did not allow me to ask +where they came from, so I contented myself with staring at them. +She guessed my thoughts, and said, smilingly, that it was a present +from the countrywoman. + +"Seeing her fortune made, the worthy woman tries every possible way +to convince her benefactor that she is grateful to him. Look at the +bed; she was certainly thinking of you, and look at these fine +materials. I confess I enjoy their softness extremely. I shall +sleep better to-night if I am not plagued by those seductive dreams +which tormented me last night." + +"Do you think that the bed and the fine linen will deliver you from +the dreams you fear?" + +"No doubt they will have a contrary effect, for softness irritates +the passions. I shall leave everything with the good woman. I do +not know what they would say if I took them with me to the convent." + +"You are not so comfortable there?" + +"Oh, no! A straw bed, a couple of blankets, and sometimes, as a +great favour, a thin mattress and two coarse sheets. But you seem +sad; you were so happy yesterday." + +"How can I be happy when I can no longer toy with you without making +you unhappy." + +"You should have said without giving me the greatest delight." + +"Then will you consent to receive pleasure in return for that which +you give me?" + +"But yours is innocent and mine is not." + +"What would you do, then, if mine and yours were the same?" + +"You might have made me wretched yesterday, for I could not have +refused you anything." + +"Why wretched? You would have had none of those dreams, but would +have enjoyed a quiet night. I am very sorry the peasant woman has +given you that corset, as otherwise I might at least have seen my +little pets without fear of bad dreams." + +"But you must not be angry with the good woman, for she knows that a +corset is easy to unlace. And I cannot bear to see you sad." + +With these words she turned her ardent gaze upon me, and I covered +her with kisses which she returned with interest. The country-woman +came up to lay the pretty new table, just as I was taking off her +corset without her offering the least resistance. + +This good omen put me in high spirits, but as I looked at her I saw a +shadow passing across her face. I took care not to ask her the +reason, for I guessed what was the matter, and I did not wish to +discuss those vows which religion and honour should have made +inviolable. To distract her mind from these thoughts, I made her eat +by the example I set, and she drank the excellent claret with as much +pleasure as I, not thinking that as she was not used to it it would +put her in a frame of mind not favourable to continence. But she did +not notice this, for her gaiety made her look prettier than before, +and aroused her passions. + +When we were alone I congratulated her on her high spirits, telling +her that my sadness had fled before her gaiety, and that the hours I +could spend with her would be all too short. + +"I should be blithe," said she, "if it were only to please you." + +"Then grant me the favour you accorded me yesterday evening." + +"I would rather incur all the excommunications in the world than run +the risk of appearing unjust to you. Take me." + +"So saying, she took off her cap, and let down her beautiful hair. +I unlaced her corset, and in the twinkling of an eye I had before me +such a siren as one sees on the canvas of Correggio. I could not +look upon her long without covering her with my burning kisses, and, +communicating my ardour, before long she made a place for me beside +herself. I felt that there was no time for thinking, that nature had +spoken out, and that love bade me seize the opportunity offered by +that delicious weakness. I threw myself on her, and with my lips +glued to hers I pressed her between my amorous arms, pending the +moment of supreme bliss. + +But in the midst of these joys, she turned her head, closed her +eyelids, and fell asleep. I moved away a little, the better to +contemplate the treasures that love displayed before me. The nun +slept, as I thought; but even if her sleep was feigned, should I be +angry with her for the stratagem? Certainly not; true or feigned, +the sleep of a loved one should always be respected by a delicate +lover, although there are some pleasures he may allow himself. If +the sleep is real there is no harm done, and if it is put on the +lover only responds to the lady's desires. All that is necessary is +so to manage one's caresses that they are pleasant to the beloved +object. But M---- M---- was really asleep; the claret had numbed her +senses, and she had yielded to its influence without any ulterior +motives. While I gazed at her I saw that she was dreaming. Her lips +uttered words of which I could not catch the meaning, but her +voluptuous aspect told me of what she dreamt. I took off my clothes; +and in two minutes I had clasped her fair body to mine, not caring +much whether she slept on or whether I awoke her and brought our +drama to a climax, which seemed inevitable. + +I was not long uncertain, for the instinctive movements she made when +she felt the minister that would fain accomplish the sacrifice at the +door of the sanctuary, convinced me that her dream still lasted, and +that I could not make her happier than by changing it into reality. +I delicately moved away all obstacles, and gently and by degrees +consummated this sweet robbery, and when at last I abandoned myself +to all the force of passion, she awoke with a sigh of bliss, +murmuring, + +"Ah! it is true then." + +"Yes, my angel! are you happy?" + +For all reply she drew me to her and fastened her lips on mine, and +thus we awaited the dawn of day, exhausting all imaginable kinds of +pleasure, exciting each other's desires, and only wishing to prolong +our enjoyment. + +"Alas!" said she, "I am happy now, but you must leave me till the +evening. Let us talk of our happiness, and enjoy it over again." + +"Then you do not repent having made me a happy man?" + +"No; it is you who have made me happy. You are an angel from heaven. +We loved, we crowned our love; I cannot have done aught to offend +God. I am free from all my fears. We have obeyed nature and our +destinies. Do you love me still?" + +"Can you ask me? I will shew you to-night." + +I dressed myself as quickly as possible while we talked of our love, +and I left her in bed, bidding her rest. + +It was quite light when I got home. Le Duc had not gone to bed, and +gave me a letter from the fair Zeroli, telling me that it had been +delivered at eleven o'clock. I had not gone to her supper, and I had +not escorted her to Chamberi; I had not had time to give her a +moment's thought. I was sorry, but I could not do anything. I +opened her letter which consisted of only six lines, but they were +pregnant ones. She advised me never to go to Turin, for if I went +there she would find means to take vengeance on me for the dastardly +affront I had put upon her. She reproached me with having put her to +public shame, said I had dishonoured her, and vowed she would never +forgive me. I did not distress myself to any great extent; I tore up +the friendly missive, and after I had had my hair done I went to the +fountain. + +Everybody flew at me for not having been at Madame Zeroli's supper. +I defended myself as best I could, but my excuses were rather tame, +about which I did not trouble myself. I was told that all was known, +and this amused me as I was aware that nothing was known. The +marquis's mistress took hold of my arm, and told me, without any +circumlocution, that I had the reputation of being inconstant, and by +way of reply I observed politely that I was wrongfully accused, but +that if there was any ground for the remark it was because I had +never served so sweet a lady as herself. She was flattered by my +compliment, and I bit my lip when I heard her ask in the most +gracious manner why I did not breakfast sometimes with the marquis. + +"I was afraid of disturbing him," said I. + +"How do you mean?" + +"I should be interrupting him in his business." + +"He has no business, and he would be delighted to see you. Come to- +morrow, he always breakfasts in my room" + +This lady was the widow of a gentleman of quality; she was young, +undoubtedly pretty, and possessing in perfection the jargon of good +society; nevertheless, she did not attract me. After recently +enjoying the fair Zeroli, and finding my suit with the fair nun at +the height of its prosperity, I was naturally hard to please, and in +plain words--I was perfectly contented with my situation. For all +that, I had foolishly placed myself in such a position that I was +obliged to give her to understand that she had delighted me by her +preference. + +She asked the marquis if she could return to the inn. + +"Yes," said he, "but I have some business in hand, and cannot come +with you." + +"Would you be kind enough to escort me?" said she to me. I bowed in +assent. + +On the way she told me that if Madame Zeroli were still there she +would not have dared to take my arm. I could only reply by +equivocating, as I had no wish to embark in a fresh intrigue. +However, I had no choice; I was obliged to accompany her to her room +and sit down beside her; but as I had had no sleep the night before I +felt tired and began to yawn, which was not flattering for the lady. +I excused myself to the best of my ability, telling her that I was +ill, and she believed me or pretended to believe me. But I felt +sleep stealing upon me, and I should have infallibly dropped off if +it had not been for my hellebore, which kept me awake by making me +sneeze. + +The marquis came in, and after a thousand compliments he proposed a +game of quinze. I begged him to excuse me, and the lady backed me +up, saying I could not possibly play in the midst of such a sneezing +fit. We went down to dinner, and afterwards I easily consented to +make a bank, as I was vexed at my loss of the day before. As usual I +staked five hundred louis, and about seven o'clock, though two-thirds +of the bank had gone, I announced the last deal. The marquis and two +other heavy gamesters then endeavoured to break the bank, but fortune +turned, and I not only got back my losses but won three hundred Louis +besides. Thereupon I rose, promising the company to begin again next +day. All the ladies had won, as Desarmoises had orders to let them +play as they liked up to a certain limit. + +I locked up my money, and warning my faithful Spaniard that I should +not be coming back, I went to my idol, having got wet through on the +way, and being obliged to undress as soon as I arrived. The good +woman' of the house took care to dry my clothes. + +I found the fair nun dressed in her religious habit, and lying on the +small bed. + +"Why are you not in your own bed, dearest?" + +"Because I feel quite well again, my darling, and I wished to sup +with you at table. We will go to bed afterwards, if that will give +you any pleasure." + +"It will give me pleasure if you share in my delight." + +"Alas! I am undone, and I shall doubtless die when I have to leave +you." + +"Do not leave me, sweetheart; come with me to Rome; and leave the +matter in my hands. I will make you my wife, and we will live +happily together ever after." + +"That would be too great a bliss, but I could never make up my mind +to it; say no more about it." + +I was sure of spending a delicious night--in the possession of all +her charms, and we stayed an hour at table, seasoning the dishes with +sweet converse. When we had done, the woman came up, gave her a +packet, and went away again, wishing us good night. + +"What does this packet contain, darling?" + +"It is the present I have got for you-my portrait, but you must not +see it till I am in bed." + +"I will indulge you in that fancy, although I am very curious to see +the portrait." + +"You will say I am right afterwards." + +I wanted to undress her myself, and she submitted like a lamb. When +she was in bed, she opened the packet, and shewed me her portrait, +naked, and very like the naked portrait of M---- M----. I praised +the painter for the excellence of the copy he had made; nothing was +altered but the colour of the hair and eyes. + +"It isn't a copy," she said, "there would not have been time. He +only made the eyes and hair black, and the latter more abundant. +Thus you have in it a portrait of the first and also of the second +M---- M----, in whom you must forget the first. She has also +vanished from the clothed portrait, for you see the nun has black +eyes. I could shew this picture to anyone as my portrait." + +"You do not know how precious your present is to me! Tell me, +dearest, how you succeeded in carrying out your plan so well." + +"I told the country-woman about it yesterday morning, and she said +that she had a foster-son at Anneci, who was a miniature painter. +Through him she sent the two miniatures to a more skilful painter at +Geneva, who made the change you see for four or five Louis; he was +probably able to do it in two or three hours. I entrusted the two +portraits to him, and you see how well he did his work. The woman +has no doubt just received them, and to-morrow she may be able to +tell you more about it." + +"She is really a wonderful woman. I will indemnify her for the +expense. But now tell me why you did not want me to see the portrait +before you were in bed?" + +"Guess." + +"Because I can now see you in the same posture as that in which you +are represented." + +"Exactly." + +"It is an excellent idea; only love can have given it you. But you +must wait till I am in the same state." + +When we were both in a state of nature, exactly like Adam and Eve +before they tasted the fatal apple, I placed her in the position of +the portrait, and guessing my intention from my face she opened her +arms for me to come to her; but I asked her to wait a moment, for I +had a little packet too, which contained something she would like. +I then drew from my pocket-book a little article of transparent skin, +about eight inches long, with one opening, which was ornamented with +a red rosette. I gave her this preventive sheath, and she looked, +admired, and laughed loudly, asking me if I had used such articles +with her Venetian sister. "I will put it on myself; you don't know +how I shall enjoy it. Why didn't you use one last night? How could +you have forgotten it? Well, I shall be very wretched if anything +comes of it. What shall I do in four or five months, when my +condition becomes past doubt?" + +"Dearest, the only thing to do is not to think of it, for if the +damage is done, there is no cure for it; but from my experience and +knowledge of the laws of nature I expect that our sweet combats of +last night will probably have no troublesome consequences. It has +been stated that after child-birth a woman cannot conceive afresh +without having seen something which I expect you have not seen." + +"No, God be thanked!" + +"Good. Then let us not give any thought to the dismal future lest we +lose our present bliss." + +"I am quite comforted; but I can't understand why you are afraid to- +day of what you were not afraid yesterday; my state is the same." + +"The event has sometimes given the lie to the most eminent +physicians. Nature, wiser than they, has exceptions to her rules, +let us not defy them for the future, but let us not trouble ourselves +if we have defied there in the past." + +"I like to hear you talk so sagely. Yes, we will be prudent whatever +it costs. There you are, hooded like a mother abbess, but in spite +of the fineness of the sheath I like the little fellow better quite +naked. I think that this covering degrades us both." + +"You are right, it does. But let us not dwell on these ideas which +will only spoil our pleasure." + +"We will enjoy our pleasure directly; let me be reasonable now, for I +have never thought of these matters before. Love must have invented +these little sheaths, but it must first have listened to the voice of +prudence, and I do not like to see love and prudence allied." + +"The correctness of your arguments surprises me, but we will +philosophize another time." + +"Wait a minute. I have never seen a man before, and I have never +wished to enjoy the sight as much as now. Ten months ago I should +have called that article an invention of the devil; but now I look +upon the inventor as a benefactor, for if my wretched hump-back had +provided himself with such a sheath he would not have exposed me to +the danger of losing my honour and my life. But, tell me, how is +that the makers of these things remain unmolested; I wonder they are +not found out, excommunicated, or heavily fined, or even punished +corporeally, if they are Jews as I expect. Dear me, the maker of +this one must have measured you badly! Look! it is too large here, +and too small there; it makes you into a regular curve. What a +stupid the fellow must be, he can't know his own trade! But what is +that?" + +"You make me laugh; it's all your fault. You have been feeling and +fondling, and you see the natural consequence. I knew it would be +so." + +"And you couldn't keep it back a minute. It is going on now. I am +so sorry; it is a dreadful pity." + +"There is not much harm done, so console yourself." + +"How can I? you are quite dead. How can you laugh?" + +"At your charming simplicity. You shall see in a moment that your +charms will give me new life which I shall not lose so easily." + +"Wonderful! I couldn't have believed it!" + +I took off the sheath, and gave her another, which pleased her +better, as it seemed to fit me better, and she laughed for joy as she +put it on. She knew nothing of these wonders. Her thoughts had been +bound in chains, and she could not discover the truth before she knew +me; but though she was scarcely out of Egypt she shewed all the +eagerness of an enquiring and newly emancipated spirit. "But how if +the rubbing makes the sheath fall off?" said she. I explained to her +that such an accident could scarcely happen, and also told her of +what material the English made these articles. + +After all this talking, of which my ardour began to weary, we +abandoned ourselves to love, then to sleep, then to love again, and +so on alternately till day-break. As I was leaving, the woman of the +house told us that the painter had asked four louis, and that she had +give two louis to her foster-son. I gave her twelve, and went home, +where I slept till morn, without thinking of breakfasting with the +Marquis de Prie, but I think I should have given him some notice of +my inability to come. His mistress sulked with me all dinner-time, +but softened when I allowed myself to be persuaded into making a +bank. However, I found she was playing for heavy stakes, and I had +to check her once or twice, which made her so cross that she went to +hide her ill-temper in a corner of the hall. However, the marquis +won, and I was losing, when the taciturn Duke of Rosebury, his tutor +Smith, and two of his fellow-countrymen, arrived from Geneva. He +came up to me and said, "How do you do?" and without another word +began to play, inviting his companions to follow his example. + +Seeing my bank in the last agony I sent Le Duc to my room for the +cash-box, whence I drew out five rolls of a hundred louis each. The +Marquis de Prie said, coolly, that he wouldn't mind being my partner, +and in the same tone I begged to be excused. He continued punting +without seeming to be offended at my refusal and when I put down the +cards and rose from the table he had won two hundred louis; but all +the others had lost, especially one of the Englishmen, so that I had +made a profit of a thousand louis. The marquis asked me if I would +give him chocolate in my room next morning, and I replied that I +should be glad to see him. I replaced my cash-box in my room, and +proceeded to the cottage, pleased with the day's work and feeling +inclined to crown it with love. + +I found my fair friend looking somewhat sad, and on my enquiring the +reason she told me that a nephew of the country-woman's, who had come +from Chamberi that morning, had told her that he had heard from a +lay-sister of the same convent, whom he knew, that two sisters would +start at day-break in two days' time to fetch her; this sad news, she +said, had made her tears flow fast. + +"But the abbess said the sisters could not start before ten days had +expired." + +"She must have changed her mind." + +"Sorrow intrudes into our happy state. Will you be my wife? Will +you follow me to Rome and receive absolution from your vows. You may +be sure that I shall have a care for your happiness." + +"Nay, I have lived long enough; let me return to my tomb." + +After supper I told the good woman that if she could rely on her +nephew, she would do well to send him at once to Chamberi with orders +to return directly the lay-sisters started, and to endeavour to reach +Aix two hours before them. She told me that I might reckon on the +young man's silence, and on his carrying out my orders. I quieted in +this way the charming nun's alarm, and got into bed with her, feeling +sad though amorous; and on the pretext that she required rest I left +her at midnight, as I wanted to be at home in the morning since I had +an engagement with the marquis. In due course he arrived with his +mistress, two other ladies, and their husbands or lovers. + +I did not limit myself to giving them chocolate; my breakfast +consisted of all the luxuries the place afforded. When I had got rid +of my troublesome company, I told Le Duc to shut my door, and to tell +everybody that I was ill in bed and could not see any visitors. I +also warned him that I should be away for two days, and that he must +not leave my room a moment till I came back. Having made these +arrangements, I slipped away unperceived and went to my mistress, +resolved not to leave her till half an hour before the arrival of the +lay-sisters. + +When she saw me and heard that I was not going to leave her till she +went away, she jumped for joy; and we conceived the idea of not +having any dinner that we might enjoy our supper the better. + +"We will go to bed after supper," said she, "and will not get up till +the messenger brings the fatal news that the lay-sisters have +started." + +I thought the idea an excellent one, and I called the, woman of the +house to tell her of our arrangements, and she promised to see that +we were not disturbed. + +We did not find the time long, for two passionate lovers find plenty +to talk about since their talk is of themselves. And besides our +caresses, renewed again and again, there was something so mysterious +and solemn in our situation that our souls and our senses were +engaged the whole time. + +After a supper which would have pleased a Lucullus, we spent twelve +hours in giving each other proofs, of our passionate love, sleeping +after our amorous struggles, and waking only to renew the fight. The +next day we rose to refresh ourselves, and after a good dinner, +mashed down by some excellent Burgundy, we went to bed again; but at +four the country-woman came to tell us that the lay-sisters would +arrive about six. We had nothing now to look for in the future, the +die was cast, and we began our farewell caresses. I sealed the last +with my blood. My first M---- M---- had seen it, and my second +rightly saw it also. She was frightened, but I calmed her fears. I +then rose, and taking a roll containing fifty louis I begged her to +keep them for me, promising to come for them in two years, and take +them from her hands through the grating of her terrible prison. She +spent the last quarter of an hour in tears, and mine were only +restrained lest I should add to her grief. I cut off a piece of her +fleece and a lock of her beautiful hair, promising her always to bear +them next my heart. + +I left her, telling the country-woman that she should see me again +the next day, and I went to bed as soon as I got home. Next morning +I was on the way to Chamberi. At a quarter of a league's distance +from Aix I saw my angel slowly walking along. As soon as the lay- +sisters were near enough they asked an alms in the name of God. I +gave them a Louis, but my saint did not look at me. + +With a broken heart I went to the good countrywoman, who told me that +M---- M---- had gone at day-break, bidding her to remind me of the +convent grating. I kissed the Worthy woman, and I gave her nephew +all the loose silver I had about me, and returning to the inn I had +my luggage put on to the carriage, and would have started that moment +if I had had any horses. But I had two hours to wait, and I went and +bade the marquis farewell. He was out, but his mistress was in the +room by herself. On my telling her of my departure, she said, + +"Don't go, stay with me a couple of days longer." + +"I feel the honour you are conferring on me, but business of the +greatest importance obliges me to be gone forthwith." + +"Impossible," said the lady, as she went to a glass the better to +lace herself, shewing me a superb breast. I saw her design, but I +determined to baulk her. She then put one foot upon a couch to retie +her garter, and when she put up the other foot I saw beauties more +enticing than Eve's apple. It was nearly all up with me, when the +marquis came in. He proposed a little game of quinze, and his +mistress asked me to be her partner. I could not escape; she sat +next to me, and I had lost forty Louis by dinner-time. + +"I owe you twenty," said the lady, as we were going down. + +At dessert Le Duc came to tell me that my carriage was at the door, +and I got up, but under the pretence of paying me the twenty louis +the marquis's mistress made me come with her to her room. + +When we were there she addressed me in a serious and supplicating +voice, telling me that if I went she would be dishonoured, as +everybody knew that she had engaged to make me stay. + +"Do I look worthy of contempt?" said she, making me sit down upon the +sofa. + +Then with a repetition of her tactics in the morning she contrived +that I should see everything. Excited by her charms I praised her +beauties, I kissed, I touched; she let herself fall on me, and looked +radiant when her vagrant hand found palpable proof of her powers of +attraction. + +"I promise to be yours to-morrow, wait till then." + +Not knowing how to refuse, I said I would keep her to her word, and +would have my horses taken out. Just then the marquis came in, +saying he would give me my revenge and without answering I went +downstairs as if to come back again, but I ran out of the inn, got +into my carriage, and drove off, promising a good fee to the +postillion if he would put his horses at a gallop. + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of MEMOIRES OF JACQUES CASANOVA +THE ETERNAL QUEST, Vol. 3e, WITH VOLTAIRE +by Jacques Casanova de Seingalt + diff --git a/old/jcvlt11.zip b/old/jcvlt11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a7c26af --- /dev/null +++ b/old/jcvlt11.zip |