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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 +SPANISH PASSIONS, Volume 6b--EXPELLED FROM SPAIN + + + + +THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR MACHEN TO +WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED BY ARTHUR SYMONS. + + + + +EXPELLED FROM SPAIN + + +CHAPTER VII + +I Make a Mistake and Manucci Becomes My Mortal Foe--His Vengeance-- +I Leave Madrid--Saragossa--Valentia--Nina--I Arrive at Barcelona + + +If these Memoirs, only written to console me in the dreadful weariness +which is slowly killing me in Bohemia--and which, perhaps, would kill me +anywhere, since, though my body is old, my spirit and my desires are as +young as ever--if these Memoirs are ever read, I repeat, they will only +be read when I am gone, and all censure will be lost on me. + +Nevertheless, seeing that men are divided into two sections, the one and +by far the greater composed of the ignorant and superficial, and the +other of the learned and reflective, I beg to state that it is to the +latter I would appeal. Their judgment, I believe, will be in favour of +my veracity, and, indeed, why should I not be veracious? A man can have +no object in deceiving himself, and it is for myself that I chiefly +write. + +Hitherto I have spoken nothing but the truth, without considering whether +the truth is in my favour or no. My book is not a work of dogmatic +theology, but I do not think it will do harm to anyone; while I fancy +that those who know how to imitate the bee and to get honey from every +flower will be able to extract some good from the catalogue of my vices +and virtues. + +After this digression (it may be too long, but that is my business and +none other's), I must confess that never have I had so unpleasant a truth +to set down as that which I am going to relate. I committed a fatal act +of indiscretion--an act which after all these years still gives my heart +a pang as I think of it. + +The day after my conquest I dined with the Venetian ambassador, and I had +the pleasure of hearing that all the ministers and grandees with whom I +had associated had the highest possible opinion of me. In three or four +days the king, the royal family, and the ministers would return to town, +and I expected to have daily conferences with the latter respecting the +colony in the Sierra Morena, where I should most probably be going. +Manucci, who continued to treat me as a valued friend, proposed to +accompany me on my journey, and would bring with him an adventuress, who +called herself Porto-Carrero, pretending to be the daughter or niece of +the late cardinal of that name, and thus obtained a good deal of +consideration; though in reality she was only the mistress of the French +consul at Madrid, the Abbe Bigliardi. + +Such was the promising state of my prospects when my evil genius brought +to Madrid a native of Liege, Baron de Fraiture, chief huntsman of the +principality, and a profligate, a gamester, and a cheat, like all those +who proclaim their belief in his honesty nowadays. + +I had unfortunately met him at Spa, and told him I was was going to +Portugal. He had come after me, hoping to use me as a means of getting +into good society, and of filling his pocket with the money of the dupes +he aspired to make. + +Gamesters have never had any proof of my belonging to their infernal +clique, but they have always persisted in believing that I too am a +"Greek." + +As soon as this baron heard that I was in Madrid he called on me, and by +dint of politeness obliged me to receive him. I thought any small +civilities I might shew or introductions I might give could do me no +harm. He had a travelling companion to whom he introduced me. He was a +fat, ignorant fellow, but a Frenchman, and therefore agreeable. A +Frenchman who knows how to present himself, who is well dressed, and has +the society air, is usually accepted without demur or scrutiny. He had +been a cavalry captain, but had been fortunate enough to obtain an +everlasting furlough. + +Four or five days after his appearance the baron asked me quietly enough +to lend him a score of louis, as he was hard up. I replied as quietly, +thanking him for treating me as a friend, but informing him that I really +could not lend him the money, as I wanted what little I had for my own +necessities. + +"But we can do good business together, and you cannot possibly be +moneyless." + +"I do not know anything about good business, but I do know that I want my +money and cannot part with it." + +"We are at our wits' end to quiet our landlord; come and speak to him." + +"If I were to do so I should do you more harm than good. He would ask me +if I would answer for you, and I should reply that you are one of those +noblemen who stand in need of no surety. All the same, the landlord +would think that if I did not stand your surety, it must be from my +entertaining doubts as to your solvency." + +I had introduced Fraiture to Count Manucci, on the Pando, and he +requested me to take him to see the count, to which request I was foolish +enough to accede. + +A few days later the baron opened his soul to Manucci. + +He found the Venetian disposed to be obliging, but wary. He refused to +lend money himself, but introduced the baron to someone who lent him +money on pledges without interest. + +The baron and his friend did a little gaming and won a little money, but +I held aloof from them to the best of my ability. + +I had my colony and Donna Ignazia, and wanted to live peacefully; and if +I had spent a single night away from home, the innocent girl would have +been filled with alarm. + +About that time M. de Mocenigo went as ambassador to France, and was +replaced by M. Querini. Querini was a man of letters, while Mocenigo +only liked music and his own peculiar kind of love. + +The new ambassador was distinctly favourable to me, and in a few days I +had reason to believe that he would do more for me than ever Mocenigo +would have done. + +In the meanwhile, the baron and his friend began to think of beating a +retreat to France. There was no gaming at the ambassador's and no gaming +at the Court; they must return to France, but they owed money to their +landlord, and they wanted money for the journey. I could give them +nothing, Manucci would give them nothing; we both pitied them, but our +duty to ourselves made us cruel to everyone else. However, he brought +trouble on us. + +One morning Manucci came to see me in evident perturbation. + +"What is the matter?" said I. + +"I do not know exactly. For the last week I have refused to see the +Baron Fraiture, as not being able to give him money, his presence only +wearied me. He has written me a letter, in which he threatens to blow +out his brains to-day if I will not lend him a hundred pistoles." + +"He said the same thing to me three days ago; but I replied that I would +bet two hundred pistoles that he would do nothing of the kind. This made +him angry, and he proposed to fight a duel with me; but I declined on the +plea that as he was a desperate man either he would have an advantage +over me or I, over him. Give him the same answer, or, better still, no +answer at all." + +"I cannot follow your advice. Here are the hundred pistoles. Take them +to him and get a receipt." + +I admired his generosity and agreed to carry out his commission. I +called on the baron, who seemed rather uncomfortable when I walked in; +but considering his position I was not at all surprised. + +I informed him that I was the bearer of a thousand francs from Count +Manucci, who thereby placed him in a position to arrange his affairs and +to leave Madrid. He received the money without any signs of pleasure, +surprise, or gratitude, and wrote out the receipt. He assured me that he +and his friend would start for Barcelona and France on the following day. + +I then took the document to Manucci, who was evidently suffering from +some mental trouble; and I remained to dinner with the ambassador. It +was for the last time. + +Three days after I went to dine with the ambassadors (for they all dined +together), but to my astonishment the porter told me that he had received +orders not to admit me. + +The effect of this sentence on me was like that of a thunderbolt; I +returned home like a man in a dream. I immediately sat down and wrote to +Manucci, asking him why I had been subjected to such an insult; but +Philippe, my man, brought me back the letter unopened. + +This was another surprise; I did not know what to expect next. +"What can be the matter?" I said to myself. "I cannot imagine, but I +will have an explanation, or perish." + +I dined sadly with Donna Ignazia, without telling her the cause of my +trouble, and just as I was going to take my siesta a servant of Manucci's +brought me a letter from his master and fled before I could read it. +The letter contained an enclosure which I read first. It was from Baron +de Fraiture. He asked Manucci to lend him a hundred pistoles, promising +to shew him the man whom he held for his dearest friend to be his worst +enemy. + +Manucci (honouring me, by the way, with the title of ungrateful traitor) +said that the baron's letter had excited his curiosity and he he had met +him in St. Jerome's Park, where the baron had clearly proved this enemy +to be myself, since I had informed the baron that though the name of +Manucci was genuine the title of count was quite apocryphal. + +After recapitulating the information which Fraiture had given him, and +which could only have proceeded from myself, he advised me to leave +Madrid as soon as possible, in a week at latest. + +I can give the reader no idea of the shock this letter gave me. For the +first time in my life I had to confess myself guilty of folly, +ingratitude, and crime. I felt that my fault was beyond forgiveness, and +did not think of asking Manucci to pardon me; I could do nothing but +despair. + +Nevertheless, in spite of Manucci's just indignation, I could not help +seeing that he had made a great mistake in advising me, in so insulting a +manner, to leave Madrid in a week. The young man might have known that +my self-respect would forbid my following such a piece of advice. He +could not compel me to obey his counsel or command; and to leave Madrid +would have been to commit a second baseness worse than the first. + +A prey to grief I spent the day without taking any steps one way or the +other, and I went to bed without supping and without the company of Donna +Ignazia. + +After a sound sleep I got up and wrote to the friend whom I had offended +a sincere and humble confession of my fault. I concluded my letter by +saying that I hoped that this evidence of my sincere and heartfelt +repentance would suffice, but if not that I was ready to give him any +honourable satisfaction in my power. + +"You may," I said, "have me assassinated if you like, but I shall not +leave Madrid till its suits me to do so." + +I put a commonplace seal on my letter, and had the address written by +Philippe, whose hand was unknown to Manucci, and then I sent it to Pando +where the king had gone. + +I kept my room the whole day; and Donna Ignazia, seeing that I had +recovered my spirits to some degree, made no more enquiries about the +cause of my distress. I waited in the whole of the next day, expecting a +reply, but in vain. + +The third day, being Sunday, I went out to call on the Prince della +Catolica. My carriage stopped at his door, but the porter came out and +told me in a polite whisper that his highness had his reasons for not +receiving me any longer. + +This was an unexpected blow, but after it I was prepared for anything. + +I drove to the Abbe Bigliardi, but the lackey, after taking in my name, +informed me that his master was out. + +I got into my carriage and went to Varnier, who said he wanted to speak +to me. + +"Come into my carriage," said I, "we will go and hear mass together." + +On our way he told me that the Venetian ambassador, Mocenigo, had warned +the Duke of Medina Sidonia that I was a dangerous character. + +"The duke," he added, "replied that he would cease to know you as soon as +he found out the badness of your character himself." + +These three shocks, following in such quick succession, cast me into a +state of confusion. I said nothing till we heard mass together, but I +believe that if I had not then told him the whole story I should have had +an apoplectic fit. + +Varnier pitied me, and said,-- + +"Such are the ways of the great when they have abjured all virtue and +honesty. Nevertheless, I advise you to keep silence about it, unless you +would irritate Manucci still farther." + +When I got home I wrote to Manucci begging him to suspend his vengeance, +or else I should be obliged to tell the story to all those who insulted +me for the ambassador's sake. I sent the letter to M. Soderini, the +secretary of the embassy, feeling sure that he would forward it to +Manucci. + +I dined with my mistress, and took her to the bull fight, where I chanced +to find myself in a box adjoining that in which Manucci and the two +ambassadors were seated. I made them a bow which they were obliged to +return, and did not vouchsafe them another glance for the rest of the +spectacle. + +The next day the Marquis Grimaldi refused to receive me, and I saw that I +should have to abandon all hope. The Duke of Lossada remained my friend +on account of his dislike to the ambassador and his unnatural tastes; but +he told me that he had been requested not to receive me, and that he did +not think I had the slightest chance of obtaining any employment at +Court. + +I could scarcely believe in such an extremity of vengeance: Manucci was +making a parade of the influence he possessed over his wife the +ambassador. In his insane desire for revenge he had laid all shame +aside. + +I was curious to know whether he had forgotten Don Emmanuel de Roda and +the Marquis de la Moras; I found both of them had been forewarned against +me. There was still the Count of Aranda, and I was just going to see him +when a servant of his highness's came and told me that his master wished +to see me. + +I shuddered, for in my then state of mind I drew the most sinister +conclusions from the message. + +I found the great man alone, looking perfectly calm. This made me pluck +up a heart. He asked me to sit down--a favour he had not hitherto done +me, and this further contributed to cheer me. + +"What have you been doing to offend your ambassador?" he began. + +"My lord, I have done nothing to him directly, but by an inexcusable act +of stupidity I have wounded his dear friend Manucci in his tenderest +part. With the most innocent intentions I reposed my confidence in a +cowardly fellow, who sold it to Manucci for a hundred pistoles. In his +irritation, Manucci has stirred up the great man against me: 'hinc illae +lacrimae'." + +"You have been unwise, but what is done is done. I am sorry for you, +because there is an end to all your hopes of advancement. The first +thing the king would do would be to make enquiries about you of the +ambassador." + +"I feel it to my sorrow, my lord, but must I leave Madrid?" + +"No. The ambassador did his best to make me send you way, but I told him +that I had no power over you so long as you did not infringe the laws." + +"'He has calumniated a Venetian subject whom I am bound to protect,' said +he. + +"'In that case,' I replied, 'you can resort to the ordinary law, and +punish him to the best of your ability.'" + +"The ambassador finally begged me to order you not to mention the matter +to any Venetian subjects at Madrid, and I think you can safely promise me +this." + +"My lord, I have much pleasure in giving your excellency my word of +honour not to do so." + +"Very good. Then you can stay at Madrid as long as you please; and, +indeed, Mocenigo will be leaving in the course of a week." + +From that moment I made up my mind to amuse myself without any thought of +obtaining a position in Spain. However, the ties of friendship made me +keep up my acquaintance with Varnier, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, and the +architect, Sabatini, who always gave me a warm welcome, as did his wife. + +Donna Ignazia had more of my company than ever, and congratulated me on +my freedom from the cares of business. + +After the departure of Mocenigo I thought I would go and see if Querini, +his nephew, was equally prejudiced against me. The porter told me that +he had received orders not to admit me, and I laughed in the man's face. + +Six or seven weeks after Manucci's departure I, too, left Madrid. I did +so on compulsion, in spite of my love for Ignazia, for I had no longer +hopes of doing anything in Portugal, and my purse was nearly exhausted. + +I thought of selling a handsome repeater and a gold snuff-box so as to +enable me to go to Marseilles, whence I thought of going to +Constantinople and trying my fortune there without turning renegade. +Doubtless, I should have found the plan unsuccessful, for I was attaining +an age when Fortune flies. I had no reason, however, to complain of +Fortune, for she had been lavish in her gifts to me, and I in my turn had +always abused them. + +In my state of distress the learned Abbe Pinzi introduced me to a Genoese +bookseller, named Carrado, a thoroughly honest man, who seemed to have +been created that the knavery of most of the Genoese might be pardoned. +To him I brought my watch and snuff-box, but the worthy Carrado not only +refused to buy them, but would not take them in pledge. He gave me +seventeen hundred francs with no other security than my word that I would +repay him if I were ever able to do so. Unhappily I have never been able +to repay this debt, unless my gratitude be accounted repayment. + +As nothing is sweeter than the companionship between a man and the woman +he adores, so nothing is bitterer than the separation; the pleasure has +vanished away, and only the pain remains. + +I spent my last days at Madrid drinking the cup of pleasure which was +embittered by the thought of the pain that was to follow. The worthy +Diego was sad at the thought of losing me, and could with difficulty +refrain from tears. + +For some time my man Philippe continued to give me news of Donna Ignazia. +She became the bride of a rich shoemaker, though her father was extremely +mortified by her making a marriage so much beneath her station. + +I had promised the Marquis de las Moras and Colonel Royas that I would +come and see them at Saragossa, the capital of Aragon, and I arrived +there at the beginning of September. My stay lasted for a fortnight, +during which time I was able to examine the manners and customs of the +Aragonese, who were not subject to the ordinances of the Marquis of +Aranda, as long cloaks and low hats were to be seen at every corner. +They looked like dark phantoms more than men, for the cloak covered up at +least half the face. Underneath the cloak was carried el Spadino, a +sword of enormous length. Persons who wore this costume were treated +with great respect, though they were mostly arrant rogues; still they +might possibly be powerful noblemen in disguise. + +The visitor to Saragossa should see the devotion which is paid to our +Lady del Pilar. I have seen processions going along the streets in which +wooden statues of gigantic proportions were carried. I was taken to the +best assemblies, where the monks swarmed. I was introduced to a lady of +monstrous size, who, I was informed, was cousin to the famous Palafox, +and I did not feel my bosom swell with pride as was evidently expected. +I also made the acquaintance of Canon Pignatelli, a man of Italian +origin. He was President of the Inquisition, and every morning he +imprisoned the procuress who had furnished him with the girl with whom he +had supped and slept. He would wake up in the morning tired out with the +pleasures of the night; the girl would be driven away and the procuress +imprisoned. He then dressed, confessed, said mass, and after an +excellent breakfast with plenty of good wine he would send out for +another girl, and this would go on day after day. Nevertheless, he was +held in great respect at Saragossa, for he was a monk, a canon, and an +Inquisitor. + +The bull fights were finer at Saragossa than at Madrid--that is to say, +they were deadlier; and the chief interest of this barbarous spectacle +lies in the shedding of blood. The Marquis de las Moras and Colonel +Royas gave me some excellent dinners. The marquis was one of the +pleasantest men I met in Spain; he died very young two years after. + +The Church of Nuestra Senora del Pilar is situated on the ramparts of the +town, and the Aragonese fondly believe this portion of the town defences +to be impregnable. + +I had promised Donna Pelliccia to go and see her at Valentia, and on my +way I saw the ancient town of Saguntum on a hill at some little distance. +There was a priest travelling with me and I told him and the driver (who +preferred his mules to all the antiquities in the world) that I should +like to go and see the town. How the muleteer and the priest objected to +this proposal! + +"There are only ruins there, senor." + +"That's just what I want to see." + +"We shall never get to Valentia to-night." + +"Here's a crown; we shall get there to-morrow." + +The crown settled everything, and the man exclaimed, + +"Valga me Dios, es un hombre de buen!" (So help me God, this is an honest +man!) A subject of his Catholic majesty knows no heartier praise than +this. + +I saw the massive walls still standing and in good condition, and yet +they were built during the second Punic War. I saw on two of the +gateways inscriptions which to me were meaningless, but which Seguier, +the old friend of the Marquis Maffei, could no doubt have deciphered. + +The sight of this monument to the courage of an ancient race, who +preferred to perish in the flames rather than surrender, excited my awe +and admiration. The priest laughed at me, and I am sure he would not +have purchased this venerable city of the dead if he could have done so +by saying a mass. The very name has perished; instead of Saguntum it is +called Murviedro from the Latin 'muri veteres' (old walls); but Time that +destroys marble and brass destroys also the very memory of what has been. + +"This place," said the priest, "is always called Murviedro." + +"It is ridiculous to do so," I replied; "common sense forbids us calling +a thing old which was once young enough. That's as if you would tell me +that New Castille is really new." + +"Well, Old Castille is more ancient than New Castille." + +"No so. New Castille was only called so because it was the latest +conquest; but as a matter of fact it is the older of the two." + +The poor priest took refuge in silence; shaking his head, and evidently +taking me for a madman. + +I tried vainly to find Hannibal's head, and the inscription in honour of +Caesar Claudius, but I found out the remains of the amphitheatre. + +The next day I remarked the mosaic pavement, which had been discovered +twenty years before. + +I reached Valentia at nine o'clock in the morning, and found that I +should have to content myself with a bad lodging, as Marescalchi, the +opera manager, had taken all the best rooms for the members of his +company. Marescalchi was accompanied by his brother, a priest, whom I +found decidedly learned for his age. We took a walk together, and he +laughed when I proposed going into a cafe, for there was not such a thing +in the town. There were only taverns of the lowest class where the wine +is not fit to drink. I could scarcely believe it, but Spain is a +peculiar country. When I was at Valentia, a good bottle of wine was +scarcely obtainable, though Malaga and Alicante were both close at hand. + +In the first three days of my stay at Valentia (the birthplace of +Alexander VI.), I saw all the objects of interest in the town, and was +confirmed in my idea that what seems so admirable in the descriptions of +writers and the pictures of artists loses much of its charm on actual +inspection. + +Though Valentia is blessed with an excellent climate, though it is well +watered, situated in the midst of a beautiful country, fertile in all the +choicest products of nature, though it is the residence of many of the +most distinguished of the Spanish nobility, though its women are the most +handsome in Spain, though it has the advantage of being the seat of an +archbishop; in spite of all these commodities, it is a most disagreeable +town to live in. One is ill lodged and ill fed, there is no good wine +and no good company, there is not even any intellectual provision, for +though there is a university, lettered men are absolutely unknown. + +As for the bridges, churches, the arsenal, the exchange, the town hall, +the twelve town gates, and the rest, I could not take pleasure in a town +where the streets are not paved, and where a public promenade is +conspicuous by its absence. Outside the town the country is delightful, +especially on the side towards the sea; but the outside is not the +inside. + +The feature which pleased me most was the number of small one-horse +vehicles which transport the traveller rapidly from one point to another, +at a very slight expense, and will even undertake a two or three days' +journey. + +If my frame of mind had been a more pleasant one, I should have travelled +through the kingdoms of Murcia and Grenada, which surpass Italy in beauty +and fertility. + +Poor Spaniards! This beauty and fertility of your land are the cause of +your ignorance, as the mines of Peru and Potosi have brought about that +foolish pride and all the prejudices which degrade you. + +Spaniards, when will the impulse come? when will you shake off that fatal +lethargy? Now you are truly useless to yourselves, and the rest of the +world; what is it you need? + +A furious revolution, a terrible shock, a conquest of regeneration; your +case is past gentle methods, it needs the cautery and the fire. + +The first call I paid was on Donna Pelliccia. The first performance was +to be given in two days. This was not a matter of any difficulty, as the +same operas were to be presented as had been already played at Aranjuez, +the Escurial, and the Granja, for the Count of Aranda would never have +dared to sanction the performance of an Italian comic opera at Madrid. +The novelty would have been too great, and the Inquisition would have +interfered. + +The balls were a considerable shock, and two years after they were +suppressed. Spain will never make any real advance, until the +Inquisition is suppressed also. + +As soon as Donna Pelliccia arrived, she sent in the letter of +introduction she had received from the Duke of Arcos, three months +before. She had not seen the duke since their meeting at Aranjuez. + +Madam," said Don Diego, the person to whom she was commended, "I have +come to offer you my services, and to tell you of the orders his grace +has laid on me, of which you may possibly be ignorant." + +"I hope, sir," she replied, "that I am not putting you to any +inconvenience, but I am extremely grateful to the duke and to yourself; +and I shall have the honour of calling on you to give you my thanks." + +"Not at all; I have only to say that I have orders to furnish you with +any sums you may require, to the amount of twenty-five thousand +doubloons." + +"Twenty-five thousand doubloons?" + +"Exactly, madam, two hundred and fifty thousand francs in French money, +and no more. Kindly read his grace's letter; you do not seem to be aware +of its contents." + +The letter was a brief one: + +"Don Diego,--You will furnish Donna Pelliccia with whatever sums she may +require, not exceeding twenty-five thousand doubloons, at my account. + +"THE DUKE DOS ARCOS" + + +We remained in a state of perfect stupefaction. Donna Pelliccia returned +the epistle to the banker, who bowed and took his leave. + +This sounds almost incredible generosity, but in Spain such things are +not uncommon. I have already mentioned the munificent gift of Medina- +Celi to Madame Pichona. + +Those who are unacquainted with the peculiar Spanish character and the +vast riches of some of the nobility, may pronounce such acts of +generosity to be ridiculous and positively injurious, but they make a +mistake. The spendthrift gives and squanders by a kind of instinct, and +so he will continue to do as long as his means remain. But these +splendid gifts I have described do not come under the category of +senseless prodigality. The Spaniard is chiefly ambitious of praise, for +praise he will do anything; but this very desire for admiration serves to +restrain him from actions by which he would incur blame. He wants to be +thought superior to his fellows, as the Spanish nation is superior to all +other nations; he wants to be thought worthy of a throne, and to be +considered as the possessor of all the virtues. + +I may also note that while some of the Spanish nobility are as rich as +the English lords, the former have not so many ways of spending their +money as the latter, and thus are enabled to be heroically generous on +occasion. + +As soon as Don Diego had gone, we began to discuss the duke's noble +behaviour. + +Donna Pelliccia maintained that the duke had wished to shew his +confidence in her by doing her the honour of supposing her incapable of +abusing his generosity; "at all events," she concluded, "I would rather +die of hunger than take a single doubloon of Don Diego." + +"The duke would be offended," said a violinist; "I think you ought to +take something." + +"You must take it all," said the husband. + +I was of the lady's opinion, and told her that I was sure the duke would +reward her delicacy by making her fortune. + +She followed my advice and her own impulse, though the banker +remonstrated with her. + +Such is the perversity of the human mind that no one believed in Donna +Pelliccia's delicacy. When the king heard what had happened he ordered +the worthy actress to leave Madrid, to prevent the duke ruining himself. + +Such is often the reward of virtue here below, but the malicious persons +who had tried to injure Donna Pelliccia by calumniating her to the king +were the means of making her fortune. + +The duke who had only spoken once or twice to the actress in public, and +had never spent a penny on her, took the king's command as an insult, and +one not to be borne. He was too proud to solicit the king to revoke the +order he had given, and in the end behaved in a way befitting so noble- +minded a man. For the first time he visited Donna Pelliccia at her own +house, and begging her to forgive him for having been the innocent cause +of her disgrace, asked her to accept a rouleau and a letter which he laid +on the table. + +The rouleau contained a hundred gold ounces with the words "for +travelling expenses," and the letter was addressed to a Roman bank, and +proved to be an order for twenty-four thousand Roman crowns. + +For twenty-nine years this worthy woman kept an establishment at Rome, +and did so in a manner which proved her worthy of her good fortune. + +The day after Donna Pelliccia's departure the king saw the Duke of Arcos, +and told him not to be sad, but to forget the woman, who had been sent +away for his own good. + +"By sending her away, your majesty obliged me to turn fiction into fact, +for I only knew her by speaking to her in various public places, and I +had never made her the smallest present." + +"Then you never gave her twenty-five thousand doubloons?" + +"Sire, I gave her double that sum, but only on the day before yesterday. +Your majesty has absolute power, but if she had not received her +dismissal I should never have gone to her house, nor should I have given +her the smallest present." + +The king was stupefied and silent; he was probably meditating on the +amount of credit a monarch should give to the gossip that his courtiers +bring him. + +I heard about this from M. Monnino, who was afterwards known under the +title of Castille de Florida Blanca, and is now living in exile in +Murcia, his native country. + +After Marescalchi had gone, and I was making my preparations for my +journey to Barcelona, I saw one day, at the bull fight, a woman whose +appearance had a strange kind of fascination about it. + +There was a knight of Alcantara at my side, and I asked him who the lady +was. + +"She is the famous Nina." + +"How famous?" + +"If you do not know her story, it is too long to be told here." + +I could not help gazing at her, and two minutes later an ill-looking +fellow beside her came up to my companion and whispered something in his +ear. + +The knight turned towards me and informed me in the most polite manner +that the lady whose name I had asked desired to know mine. + +I was silly enough to be flattered by her curiosity, and told the +messenger that if the lady would allow me I would come to her box and +tell her my name in person after the performance. + +"From your accent I should suppose you were an Italian." + +"I am a Venetian." + +"So is she." + +When he had gone away my neighbour seemed inclined to be more +communicative, and informed me that Nina was a dancer whom the Count de +Ricla, the Viceroy of Barcelona, was keeping for some weeks at Valentia, +till he could get her back to Barcelona, whence the bishop of the diocese +had expelled her on account of the scandals to which she gave rise. "The +count," he added, "is madly in love with her, and allows her fifty +doubloons a day." + +"I should hope she does not spend them." + +"She can't do that, but she does not let a day pass without committing +some expensive act of folly." + +I felt curious to know a woman of such a peculiar character, and longed +for the end of the bull fight, little thinking in what trouble this new +acquaintance would involve me. + +She received me with great politeness, and as she got into her carriage +drawn by six mules, she said she would be delighted if I would breakfast +with her at nine o'clock on the following day. + +I promised to come, and I kept my word. + +Her house was just outside the town walls, and was a very large building. +It was richly and tastefully furnished, and was surrounded by an enormous +garden. + +The first thing that struck me was the number of the lackeys and the +richness of their liveries, and the maids in elegant attire, who seemed +to be going and coming in all directions. + +As I advanced I heard an imperious voice scolding some one. + +The scold was Nina, who was abusing an astonished-looking man, who was +standing by a large table covered with stuffs and laces. + +"Excuse me," said she, "but this fool of a Spaniard wants to persuade me +that this lace is really handsome." + +She asked me what I thought of the lace, and though I privately thought +it lace of the finest quality, I did not care to contradict her, and so +replied that I was no judge. + +"Madam," said the tradesman, "if you do not like the lace, leave it; will +you keep the stuffs?" + +"Yes," she replied; "and as for the lace, I will shew you that it is not +the money that deters me." + +So saying the mad girl took up a pair of scissors and cut the lace into +fragments. + +"What a pity!" said the man who had spoken to me at the bull fight. +"People will say that you have gone off your head." + +"Be silent, you pimping rogue!" said she, enforcing her words with a +sturdy box on the ear. + +The fellow went off, calling her strumpet, which only made her scream +with laughter; then, turning to the Spaniard, she told him to make out +his account directly. + +The man did not want telling twice, and avenged himself for the abuse he +had received by the inordinate length of his bill. + +She took up the account and placed her initials at the bottom without +deigning to look at the items, and said,-- + +"Go to Don Diego Valencia; he will pay you immediately." + +As soon as we were alone the chocolate was served, and she sent a message +to the fellow whose ears she had boxed to come to breakfast directly. + +"You needn't be surprised at my way of treating him," she said. "He's a +rascal whom Ricla has placed in my house to spy out my actions, and I +treat him as you have seen, so that he may have plenty of news to write +to his master." + +I thought I must be dreaming; such a woman seemed to me beyond the limits +of the possible. + +The poor wretch, who came from Bologna and was a musician by profession, +came and sat down with us without a word. His name was Molinari. + +As soon as he had finished his breakfast he left the room, and Nina spent +an hour with me talking about Spain, Italy, and Portugal, where she had +married a dancer named Bergonzi. + +"My father," she said, "was the famous charlatan Pelandi; you may have +known him at Venice." + +After this piece of confidence (and she did not seem at all ashamed of +her parentage) she asked me to sup with her, supper being her favourite +meal. I promised to come, and I left her to reflect on the extraordinary +character of the woman, and on the good fortune which she so abused. + +Nina was wonderfully beautiful; but as it has always been my opinion that +mere beauty does not go for much, I could not understand how a viceroy +could have fallen in love with her to such an extent. As for Molinari, +after which I had seen, I could only set him down as an infamous wretch. + +I went to supper with her for amusement's sake, for, with all her beauty, +she had not touched my heart in the slightest degree. It was at the +beginning of October, but at Valentia the thermometer marked twenty +degrees Reaumur in the shade. + +Nina was walking in the garden with her companion, both of them being +very lightly clad; indeed, Nina had only her chemise and a light +petticoat. + +As soon as she saw me she came up and begged me to follow their example +in the way of attire, but I begged to be excused. The presence of that +hateful fellow revolted me in the highest degree. + +In the interval before supper Nina entertained me with a number of +lascivious anecdotes of her experiences from the time she began her +present mode of living up to the age of twenty-two, which was her age +then. + +If it had not been for the presence of the disgusting Argus, no doubt all +these stories would have produced their natural effect on me; but as it +was they had none whatever. + +We had a delicate supper and ate with appetite, and after it was over I +would have gladly left them; but Nina would not let me go. The wine had +taken effect, and she wished to have a little amusement. + +After all the servants had been dismissed, this Messalina ordered +Molinari to strip naked, and she then began to treat him in a manner +which I cannot describe without disgust. + +The rascal was young and strong, and, though he was drunk, Nina's +treatment soon placed him in a hearty condition. I could see that she +wished me to play my part in the revels, but my disgust had utterly +deprived me of all my amorous faculties. + +Nina, too, had undressed, and seeing that I viewed the orgy coldly she +proceeded to satiate her desires by means of Molinari. + +I had to bear with the sight of this beautiful woman coupling herself +with an animal, whose only merit lay in his virile monstrosity, which she +no doubt regarded as a beauty. + +When she had exhausted her amorous fury she threw herself into a bath, +then came back, drank a bottle of Malmsey Madeira, and finally made her +brutal lover drink till he fell on to the floor. + +I fled into the next room, not being able to bear it any longer, but she +followed me. She was still naked, and seating herself beside me on an +ottoman she asked me how I had enjoyed the spectacle. + +I told her boldy that the disgust with which her wretched companion had +inspired me was so great that it had utterly annulled the effect of her +charms. + +"That may be so, but now he is not here, and yet you do nothing. One +would not think it, to look at you." + +"You are right, for I have my feelings like any other man, but he has +disgusted me too much. Wait till tomorrow, and let me not see that +monster so unworthy of enjoying you." + +"He does not enjoy me. If I thought he did I would rather die than let +him have to do with me, for I detest him." + +"What! you do not love him, and yet you make use of him in the way you +do?" + +"Yes, just as I might use a mechanical instrument." + +In this woman I saw an instance of the depths of degradation to which +human nature may be brought. + +She asked me to sup with her on the following day, telling me that we +would be alone, as Molinari would be ill. + +"He will have got over the effects of the wine." + +"I tell you he will be ill. Come to-morrow, and come every evening." + +"I am going the day after to-morrow." + +"You will not go for a week, and then we will go together." + +"That's impossible." + +"If you go you will insult me beyond bearing." + +I went home with my mind made up to depart without having anything more +to do with her; and though I was far from inexperienced in wickedness of +all kinds, I could not help feeling astonished at the unblushing +frankness of this Megaera, who had told me what I already knew, but in +words that I had never heard a woman use before. + +"I only use him to satisfy my desires, and because I am certain that he +does not love me; if I thought he did I would rather die than allow him +to do anything with me, for I detest him." + +The next day I went to her at seven o'clock in the evening. She received +me with an air of feigned melancholy, saying,-- + +"Alas! we shall have to sup alone; Molinari has got the colic." + +"You said he would be ill; have you poisoned him?" + +"I am quite capable of doing so, but I hope I never shall." + +"But you have given him something?" + +"Only what he likes himself; but we will talk of that again. Let us sup +and play till to-morrow, and tomorrow evening we will begin again." + +"I am going away at seven o'clock to-morrow." + +"No, no, you are not; and your coachman will have no cause for complaint, +for he has been paid; here is the receipt." + +These remarks, delivered with an air of amorous despotism, flattered my +vanity. I made up my mind to submit gaily, called her wanton, and said I +was not worth the pains she was taking over me. + +"What astonishes me," said I, "is that with this fine house you do not +care to entertain company." + +"Everybody is afraid to come; they fear Ricla's jealousy, for it is well +known that that animal who is now suffering from the colic tells him +everything I do. He swears that it is not so, but I know him to be a +liar. Indeed, I am very glad he does write to Ricla, and only wish he +had something of real importance to write about." + +"He will tell him that I have supped alone with you." + +"All the better; are you afraid?" + +"No; but I think you ought to tell me if I have anything really to fear." + +"Nothing at all; it will fall on me." + +"But I should not like to involve you in a dispute which might be +prejudicial to your interests." + +"Not at all; the more I provoke him, the better he loves me, and I will +make him pay dearly when he asks me to make it up." + +"Then you don't love him?" + +"Yes, to ruin him; but he is so rich that there doesn't seem much hope of +my ever doing that." + +Before me I saw a woman as beautiful as Venus and as degraded as Lucifer; +a woman most surely born to be the ruin of anyone who had the misfortune +to fall in love with her. I had known women of similar character, but +never one so dangerous as she. + +I determined to make some money out of her if I could. + +She called for cards, and asked me to play with her at a game called +primiera. It is a game of chance, but of so complicated a nature that +the best player always wins. In a quarter of an hour I found that I was +the better player, but she had such luck that at the end of the game I +had lost twenty pistoles, which I paid on the spot. She took the money, +promising to give me my revenge. + +We had supper, and then we committed all the wantonness she wished and I +was capable of performing, for with me the age of miracles was past. + +The next day I called to see her earlier in the evening. We played +again; and she lost, and went on losing evening after evening, till I had +won a matter of two or three hundred doubloons, no unwelcome addition to +my somewhat depleted purse. + +The spy recovered from his colic and supped with us every evening, but +his presence no longer interfered with my pleasure since Nina had ceased +to prostitute herself to him in my presence. She did the opposite; +giving herself to me, and telling him to write to the Comte de Ricla +whatever he liked. + +The count wrote her a letter which she gave me to read. The poor love- +sick viceroy informed her that she might safely return to Barcelona, as +the bishop had received an order from the Court to regard her as merely +au actress, whose stay in his diocese would only be temporary; she would +thus be allowed to live there in peace so long as she abstained from +giving cause for scandal. She told me that whilst she was at Barcelona I +could only see her after ten o'clock at night, when the count always left +her. She assured me that I should run no risk whatever. + +Possibly I should not have stayed at Barcelona at all if Nina had not +told me that she would always be ready to lend me as much money as I +wanted. + +She asked me to leave Valentia a day before her, and to await her at +Tarragona. I did so, and spent a very pleasant day in that town, which +abounds in remains of antiquity. + +I ordered a choice supper according to her instructions, and took care +that she should have a separate bedroom so as to avoid any scandal. + +She started in the morning begging me to wait till the evening, and to +travel by night so as to reach Barcelona by day-time. She told me to put +up at the "Santa Maria," and not to call till I had heard from her. + +I followed all the directions given me by this curious woman, and found +myself comfortably lodged at Barcelona. My landlord was a Swiss who told +me in confidence that he had received instructions to treat me well, and +that I had only to ask for what I wanted. + +We shall see soon what was the result of all this. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +My Imprudence--Passano--I Am Imprisoned--My Departure from Barcelona-- +Madame Castelbajac at Montpellier--Nimes--I Arrive at Aix + + +Although my Swiss landlord seemed an honest and trustworthy kind of man, +I could not help thinking that Nina had acted very imprudently in +commending me to him. She was the viceroy's mistress; and though the +viceroy might be a very agreeable man, he was a Spaniard, and not likely +to be easy-going in his love affairs. Nina herself had told me that he +was ardent, jealous, and suspicious. But the mischief was done, and +there was no help for it. + +When I got up my landlord brought me a valet de place, for whose +character he said he could answer, and he then sent up an excellent +dinner. I had slept till three o'clock in the afternoon. + +After dinner I summoned my host, and asked him whether Nina had told him +to get me a servant. He answered in the affirmative, and added that a +carriage was awaiting my commands at the door; it had been taken by the +week. + +"I am astonished to hear it, for no one but myself can say what I can +afford or not." + +"Sir, everything is paid for." + +"Paid for! I will not have it!" + +"You can settle that with her, but I shall certainly take no payment." + +I saw dangers ahead, but as I have never cared to cherish forbodings I +dismissed the idea. + +I had a letter of introduction from the Marquis de las Moras to Don +Miguel de Cevallos, and another from Colonel Royas to Don Diego de la +Secada. I took my letters, and the next day Don Diego came to see me, +and took me to the Comte de Peralda. The day after Don Miguel introduced +me to the Comte de Ricla, Viceroy of Catalonia, and the lover of Nina. + +The Comte de Peralada was a young man with a pleasant face but with an +ill-proportioned body. He was a great debauchee and lover of bad +company, an enemy of religion, morality, and law. He was directly +descended from the Comte de Peralada, who served Philip II. so well that +this king declared him "count by the grace of God." The original patent +of nobility was the first thing I saw in his antechamber, where it was +framed and glazed so that all visitors might see it in the quarter of an +hour they were kept waiting. + +The count received me with an easy and cordiale manner, which seemed to +say that he renounced all the dignities of his rank. He thanked Don +Diego for introducing me, and talked a good deal about Colonel Royas. He +asked me if I had seen the English girl he was keeping at Saragossa, and +on my replying in the affirmative, he told me in a whisper that he had +slept with her. + +He took me to his stables, where he had some splendid horses, and then +asked me to dine with him the next day. + +The viceroy received me in a very different manner; he stood up so that +he might not have to offer me a chair, and though I spoke Italian, with +which language I knew him to be well acquainted, he answered me in +Spanish, styling me 'ussia' (a contraction of 'vuestra senoria', your +lordship, and used by everyone in Spain), while I gave him his proper +title of excellence. + +He talked a good deal about Madrid, and complained that M. de Mocenigo +had gone to Paris by Bayonne instead of Barcelona, as he had promised +him. + +I tried to excuse my ambassador by saying that by taking the other route +he had saved fifty leagues of his journey, but the viceroy replied that +'tenir la palabra' (keeping to one's words) comes before all else. + +He asked me if I thought of staying long at Barcelona, and seemed +surprised when I told him that, with his leave, I hoped to make a long +stay. + +"I hope you will enjoy yourself," he said, "but I must warn you that if +you indulge in the pleasures which my nephew Peralada will doubtless +offer you, you will not enjoy a very good reputation at Barcelona." + +As the Comte de Ricla made this observation in public, I thought myself +justified in communicating it to Peralada himself. He was delighted, and +told me, with evident vanity, that he had gone to Madrid three times, and +had been ordered to return to Catalonia on each occasion. + +I thought my best plan would be to follow the viceroy's indirect advice, +so I refused to join in any of the little parties of pleasure which +Peralada proposed. + +On the fifth day after my arrival, an officer came to ask me to dinner at +the viceroy's. I accepted the invitation with much pleasure, for I had +been afraid of the viceroy's having heard of my relations with Nina, and +thought it possible that he might have taken a dislike to me. He was +very pleasant to me at dinner, often addressing his observations to me, +but always in a tone of great gravity. + +I had been in Barcelona for a week, and was beginning to wonder why I had +not heard from Nina; but one evening she wrote me a note, begging me to +come on foot and alone to her house at ten o'clock the same night. + +If I had been wise I should not have gone, for I was not in love with the +woman, and should have remembered the respect due to the viceroy; but I +was devoid of all wisdom and prudence. All the misfortunes I have +experienced in my long life never taught me those two most necessary +virtues. + +At the hour she had named I called on her, wearing my great coat, and +with a sword for my only weapon. I found Nina with her sister, a woman +of thirty-six or thereabouts, who was married to an Italian dancer, +nicknamed Schizza, because he had a flatter nose than any Tartar. + +Nina had just been supping with her lover, who had left her at ten +o'clock, according to his invariable custom. + +She said she was delighted to hear I had been to dinner with him, as she +had herself spoken to him in my praise, saying how admirably I had kept +her company at Valentia. + +"I am glad to hear it, but I do not think you are wise in inviting me to +your house at such late hours." + +"I only do so to avoid scandal amongst my neighbours." + +"In my opinion my coming so late is only likely to increase the +probability of scandal, and to make your viceroy jealous." + +"He will never hear of your coming." + +"I think you are mistaken." + +I went away at midnight, after a conversation of the most decent +character. Her sister did not leave us for a moment, and Nina gave her +no cause to suspect the intimacy of our relations. + +I went to see her every evening, without encroaching on the count's +preserves. I thought myself secure, but the following warning should +have made me desist if I had not been carried away by the forces of +destiny and obstinacy in combination. + +An officer in the Walloon Guards accosted me one day as I was walking by +myself just outside the town. He begged me in the most polite manner to +excuse him if he spoke on a matter which was indifferent to him but of +great consequence to me. + +"Speak, sir," I replied, "I will take whatever you say in good part." + +"Very good. You are a stranger, sir, and may not be acquainted with our +Spanish manners, consequently you are unaware of the great risk you run +in going to see Nina every evening after the count has left her." + +"What risk do I run? I have no doubt that the count knows all about it +and does not object." + +"I have no doubt as to his knowing it, and he may possibly pretend to +know nothing before her, as he fears as well as loves her; but if she +tells you that he does not object, she either deceives herself or you. +He cannot love her without being jealous, and a jealous Spaniard . . . + +"Follow my advice, sir, and forgive my freedom." + +"I am sincerely obliged to you for your kind interest in me, but I cannot +follow your advice, as by doing so I should be wanting in politeness to +Nina, who likes to see me and gives me a warm welcome. I shall continue +to visit her till she orders me not to do so, or till the count signifies +to me his displeasure at my visits to his mistress." + +"The count will never do such a thing; he is too careful of his dignity." + +The worthy officer then narrated to me all the acts of injustice which +Ricla had committed since he had fallen in love with this woman. He had +dismissed gentlemen from his service on the mere suspicion that they were +in love with her; some had been exiled, and others imprisoned on one +frivolous pretext or another. Before he had known Nina he had been a +pattern of wisdom, justice, and virtue, and now he had become unjust, +cruel, blindly passionate, and in every way a scandal to the high +position he occupied. + +All this should have influenced me, but it had not the slightest effect. +I told him for politeness' sake that I would endeavour to part from her +by degrees, but I had no intention of doing so. + +When I asked him how he knew that I visited Nina, he laughed and said it +was a common topic of conversation all over the town. + +The same evening I called on her without mentioning my conversation with +the officer. There would have been some excuse for me if I had been in +love with her, but as it was . . . I acted like a madman. + +On the 14th of November I went to see her at the usual time. I found her +with a man who was shewing her miniatures. I looked at him and found +that he was the scoundrel Passano, or Pogomas. + +My blood boiled; I took Nina's hand and led her into a neighbouring room, +and told her to dismiss the rogue at once, or I would go to return no +more. + +"He's a painter." + +"I am well acquainted with his history, and will tell you all about it +presently; but send him away, or I shall go." + +She called her sister, and told her to order the Genoese to leave the +house and never to enter it again. + +The thing was 'done in a moment, but the sister told us that as he went +out he had said,-- + +"Se ne pentira" ("He shall be sorry for it"). + +I occupied an hour in relating some of the injuries I had received from +this scoundrelly fellow. + +The next day (November 15th), I went to Nina at the usual time, and after +spending two hours in pleasant converse with her and her sister I went +out as the clocks were striking midnight. + +The door of the house was under an arcade, which extended to the end of +the street. It was a dark night; and I had scarcely gone twenty-five +paces when two men suddenly rushed at me. + +I stepped back, drawing my sword, and exclaiming, "Assassins!" and then +with a rapid movement, I thrust my blade into the body of the nearest +assailant. I then left the arcade, and began to run down the street. +The second assassin fired a pistol at me, but it fortunately missed me. +I fell down and dropped my hat in my rapid flight, and got up and +continued my course without troubling to pick it up. I did not know +whether I was wounded or not, but at last I got to my inn, and laid down +the bloody sword on the counter, under the landlord's nose. I was quite +out of breath. + +I told the landlord what had happened, and on taking off my great coat, I +found it to be pierced in two places just below the armpit. + +"I am going to bed," I said to the landlord, "and I leave my great coat +and the sword in your charge. Tomorrow morning I shall ask you to come +with me before the magistrate to denounce this act of assassination, for +if the man was killed it must be shewn that I only slew him to save my +own life." + +"I think your best plan would be to fly Barcelona immediately." + +"Then you think I have not told you the strict truth?" + +"I am sure you have; but I know whence the blow comes, and God knows what +will befall you!" + +"Nothing at all; but if I fly I shall be accounted guilty. Take care of +the sword; they tried to assassinate me, but I think the assassins got +the worst of it." + +I went to bed somewhat perturbed, but I had the consoling thought that if +I had killed a man I had done so to self-defence; my conscience was quite +clear. + +At seven o'clock the next morning I heard a knocking at my door. I +opened it, and saw my landlord, accompanied by an officer, who told me to +give him all my papers, to dress, and to follow him, adding that he +should be compelled to use force in case of resistance. + +"I have no intention of resisting," I replied. "By whose authority do +you ask me for my papers?" + +"By the authority of the governor. They will be returned to you if +nothing suspicious is found amongst them." + +"Where are you going to take me?" + +"To the citadel." + +I opened my trunk, took out my linen and my clothes, which I gave to my +landlord, and I saw the officer's astonishment at seeing my trunk half +filled with papers. + +"These are all the papers I have," I said. I locked the box and gave the +officer the key. + +"I advise you, sir," he said, "to put all necessary articles into a +portmanteau." He then ordered the landlord to send me a bed, and finally +asked me if I had any papers in my pockets. + +"Only my passports." + +"That's exactly what we want," he rejoined, with a grim smile. + +"My passports are sacred; I will never give them to anyone but the +governor-general. Reverence your king; here is his passport, here is +that of the Count of Aranda, and here the passport of the Venetian +ambassador. You will have to bind me hand and foot before you get them." + +"Be more moderate, sir. In giving them to me it is just as if you gave +them to the viceroy. If you resist I will not bind you hand and foot, +but I shall take you before the viceroy, and then you will be forced to +give them up in public. Give them to me with a good grace, and you shall +have an acknowledgement." + +The worthy landlord told me I should be wiser to give in, so I let myself +be persuaded. The officer gave me a full quittance, which I put in my +pocketbook (this he let me keep out of his kindness), and then I followed +him. He had six constables with him, but they kept a good distance away. +Comparing this with the circumstances of my arrest at Madrid, I thought +myself well treated. + +Before we left the inn the officer told me that I might order what meals +I pleased, and I asked the landlord to let me have my dinner and supper +as usual. + +On the way I told him of my adventure of the night before; he listened +attentively but made no comments. + +When we reached the citadel I was delivered to the officer of the guard, +who gave me a room on the first floor. It was bare of furniture, but the +windows looked on to a square and had no iron bars. + +I had scarcely been there ten minutes when my carpet bag and an excellent +bed were brought in. + +As soon as I was alone I began to think over the situation. I finished +where I ought to have begun. + +"What can this imprisonment have to do with my last night's adventure?" I +reflected. + +I could not make out the connection. + +"They are bent on examining my papers; they must think I have been +tampering in some political or religious intrigue; but my mind is quite +at ease on that score. I am well lodged at present, and no doubt shall +be set free after my papers have been examined; they can find nothing +against me there. + +"The affair of my attempted assassination will, no doubt, be considered +separately. + +"Even if the rascal is dead, I do not see what they can do to me. + +"On the other hand, my landlord's advice to fly from Barcelona looks +ominous; what if the assassins received their orders from some person +high in authority? + +"It is possible that Ricla may have vowed my ruin, but it does not seem +probable to me. + +"Would it have been wise to follow the landlord's advice? + +"Possibly, but I do not think so; my honour would have suffered, and I +might have been caught and laid up in some horrid dungeon, whereas for a +prison I am comfortable enough here. + +"In three or four days the examination of my papers will have been +completed, and as there is nothing in them likely to be offensive to the +powers that be, they will be returned to me with my liberty, which will +taste all the sweeter for this short deprivation. + +"As for my passports they all speak in my favour. + +"I cannot think that the all-powerful hand of the viceroy could have +directed the assassin's sword; it would be a dishonour to him, and if it +were so, he would not be treating me so kindly now. If it were his +doing, he must have heard directly that the blow had failed, and in that +case I do not think he would have arrested me this morning. + +"Shall I write to Nina? Will writing be allowed here?" + +As I was puzzling my brains with these reflections, stretched on my bed +(for I had no chair), I heard some disturbance, and on opening my window +I saw, to my great astonishment, Passano being brought into the prison by +a corporal and two soldiers. As he was going in, the rascal looked up +and saw me, and began to laugh. + +"Alas!" I said to myself, "here is fresh food for conjecture. The fellow +told Nina's sister that I should be sorry for what I had done. He must +have directed some fearful calumny against me, and they are imprisoning +him so as to be sure of his evidence." + +On reflection, I was well pleased at the turn affairs had taken. + +An excellent dinner was set before me, but I had no chair or table. The +deficiency was remedied by the soldier who was in charge of me for the +consideration of a duro. + +Prisoners were not allowed to have pen and ink without special +permission; but paper and pencils were not included under this +regulation, so my guard got them for me, together with candles and +candlesticks, and I proceeded to kill time by making geometrical +calculations. I made the obliging soldier sup with me, and he promised +to commend me to one of his comrades who would serve me well. The guard +was relieved at eleven. + +On the fourth day the officer of the guard came to me with a distressed +look, and told me that he had the disagreeable duty of giving me some +very bad news. + +"What is that, sir?" + +"I have received orders to transfer you to the bottom of the tower." + +"To transfer me?" + +"Yes." + +"Then they must have discovered in me a criminal of the deepest dye! Let +us go at once." + +I found myself in a kind of round cellar, paved with large flagstones, +and lighted by five or six narrow slits in the walls. The officer told +me I must order what food required to be brought once a day, as no one +was allowed to come into the 'calabozo', or dungeon, by night. + +"How about lights?" + +"You may lave one lamp always burning, and that will be enough, as books +are not allowed. When your dinner is brought, the officer on duty will +open the pies and the poultry to see that they do not contain any +documents; for here no letters are allowed to come in or go out." + +"Have these orders been given for my especial benefit?" + +"No, sir; it is the ordinary rule. You will be able to converse with the +sentinel." + +"The door will be open, then?" + +"Not at all." + +"How about the cleanliness of my cell?" + +"A soldier will accompany the officer in charge of your dinner, and he +will attend to your wants for a trifle." + +"May I amuse myself by making architectural plans with the pencil?" + +"As much as you like." + +"Then will you be good enough to order some paper to be bought for me?" + +"With pleasure." + +The officer seemed to pity me as he left me, and bolted and barred the +heavy door behind which I saw a man standing sentry with his bayonet +fixed. The door was fitted with a small iron grating. + +When I got my paper and my dinner at noonday the officer cut open a fowl, +and plunged a fork in the other dishes so as to make sure that there were +no papers at the bottom. + +My dinner would have sufficed for six people. I told the officer that I +should be much honoured by his dining with me, but he replied that it was +strictly forbidden. He gave me the same answer when I asked if I might +have the newspapers. + +It was a festival time for the sentinels, as I shared my meals and my +good wine with them; and consequently these poor fellows were firmly +attached to me. + +I was curious to know who was paying for my good cheer, but there was no +chance of my finding out, for the waiter from the inn was never allowed +to approach my cell. + +In this dungeon, where I was imprisoned for forty-two days, I wrote in +pencil and without other reference than my memory, my refutation of +Amelot de la Houssaye's "History of the Venetian Government." + +I was most heartily amused during my imprisonment, and in the following +manner: + +While I was at Warsaw an Italian named Tadini came to Warsaw. He had an +introduction to Tomatis who commended him to me. He called himself an +oculist. Tomatis used to give him a dinner now and again, but not being +well off in those days I could only give him good words and a cup of +coffee when he chanced to come about my breakfast-time. + +Tadini talked to everybody about the operations he had performed, and +condemned an oculist who had been at Warsaw for twenty years, saying that +he did not understand how to extract a cataract, while the other oculist +said that Tadini was a charlatan who did not know how the eye was made. + +Tadini begged me to speak in his favour to a lady who had had a cataract +removed by the Warsaw oculist, only to return again a short time after +the operation. + +The lady was blind of the one eye, but she could see with the other, and +I told Tadini that I did not care to meddle with such a delicate matter. + +"I have spoken to the lady," said Tadini, "and I have mentioned your name +as a person who will answer for me." + +"You have done wrong; in such a matter I would not stand surety for the +most learned of men, and I know nothing about your learning." + +"But you know I am an oculist." + +"I know you were introduced to me as such, but that's all. As a +professional man, you should not need anyone's commendation, you should +be able to say, 'Operibus credite'. That should be your motto." + +Tadini was vexed with my incredulity, and shewed me a number of +testimonials, which I might possibly have read, if the first which met my +eye had not been from a lady who protested to all and singular that +M. Tadini had cured her of amaurosis. At this I laughed in his face and +told him to leave me alone. + +A few days after I found myself dining with him at the house of the lady +with the cataract. She had almost made up her mind to submit to the +operation, but as the rascal had mentioned my name, she wanted me to be +present at a dispute between Tadini and the other oculist who came in +with the dessert. + +I disposed myself to listen to the arguments of the two rival professors +with considerable pleasure. The Warsaw oculist was a German, but spoke +French very well; however, he attacked Tadini in Latin. The Italian +checked him by saying that their discourse must be conducted in a +language intelligible to the lady, and I agreed with him. It was plain +that Tadini did not know a word of Latin. + +The German oculist began by admitting that after the operation for +cataract there was no chance of the disease returning, but that there was +a considerable risk of the crystalline humour evaporating, and the +patient being left in a state of total blindness. + +Tadini, instead of denying this statement (which was inaccurate), had the +folly to take a little box out of his pocket. It contained a number of +minute round crystals. + +"What's that?" said the old professor. + +"A substance which I can place in the cornea to supply the loss of the +crystalline matter." + +The German went off into a roar of laughter so long and loud that the +lady could not help laughing. I should have liked to join them, but I +was ashamed to be thought the patron of this ignorant fellow, so I +preserved a gloomy silence. + +Tadini no doubt interpreted my silence as a mark of disapproval of the +German's laughter, and thought to better matters by asking me to give my +opinion. + +"As you want to hear it," said I, "here it is." + +"There's a great difference between a tooth and the crystalline humour; +and though you may have succeeded in putting an artificial tooth into a +gum, this treatment will not do with the eye." + +"Sir, I am not a dentist." + +"No, nor an oculist either." + +At this the ignorant rascal got up and left the room, and it was +decidedly the best thing he could do. + +We laughed over this new treatment, and the lady promised to have nothing +more to do with him. The professor was not content to despise his +opponent in silence. He had him cited before the Faculty of Medicine to +be examined on his knowledge of the eye, and procured the insertion of a +satiric article in the news on the new operation for replacing the +crystalline humour, alluding to the wonderful artist then in Warsaw who +could perform this operation as easily as a dentist could put in a false +tooth. + +This made Tadini furious, and he set upon the old professor in the street +and forced him to the refuge in a house. + +After this he no doubt left the town on foot, for he was seen no more. +Now the reader is in a position to understand my surprise and amusement, +when, one day as I peered through the grating in my dungeon, I saw the +oculist Tadini standing over me with gun in hand. But he at all events +evinced no amusement whatever, while I roared and roared again with +laughter for the two hours his duty lasted. + +I gave him a good meal and a sufficiency of my excellent wine, and at the +end a crown, promising that he should have the same treatment every time +he returned to the post. But I only saw him four times, as the guard at +my cell was a position eagerly coveted and intrigued for by the other +soldiers. + +He amused me by the story of his misadventures since he had left Warsaw. +He had travelled far and wide without making a fortune, and at last +arrived in Barcelona, where he failed to meet with any courtesy or +consideration. He had no introduction, no diploma; he had refused to +submit to an examination in the Latin tongue, because (as he said) there +was no connection between the learned languages and the diseases of the +eye; and the result was that, instead of the common fate of being ordered +to leave the country, he was made into a soldier. He told me in +confidence that he intended to desert, but he said he should take care to +avoid the galleys. + +"What have you done with your crystals?" + +"I have renounced them since I left Warsaw, though I am sure they would +succeed." + +I never heard of him again. + +On December 28th, six weeks after my arrest, the officer of the guard +came to my cell and told me to dress and follow him. + +"Where are we going?" + +"I am about to deliver you to an officer of the viceroy, who is waiting." + +I dressed hastily, and after placing all my belongings in a portmanteau I +followed him. We went to the guardroom, and there I was placed under the +charge of the officer who had arrested me, who took me to the palace. +There a Government official shewed me my trunk, telling me that I should +find all my papers intact; and he then returned me my three passports, +with the remark that they were genuine documents. + +"I knew that all along." + +"I suppose so, but we had reasons for doubting their authenticity." + +"They must have been strange reasons, for, as you now confess, these +reasons were devoid of reason." + +"You must be aware that I cannot reply to such an objection." + +"I don't ask you to do so." + +"Your character is perfectly clear; all the same I must request you to +leave Barcelona in three days, and Catalonia in a week." + +"Of course I will obey; but it strikes me that the Catalonian method of +repairing injustice is somewhat peculiar." + +"If you think you have ground for complaint you are at liberty to go to +Madrid and complain to the Court." + +"I have certainly grounds enough for complaint, sir, but I shall go to +France, and not to Madrid; I have had enough of Spanish justice. Will +you please give me the order to leave in writing?" + +"That's unnecessary; you may take it for granted. My name is Emmanuel +Badillo; I am a secretary of state. That gentleman will escort you back +to the room where you were arrested. You will find everything just as +you have left it. You are a free man. To-morrow I will send you your +passport, signed by the viceroy and myself. Good day, sir." + +Accompanied by the officer and a servant bearing my portmanteau, I +proceeded to my old inn. + +On my way I saw a theatrical poster, and decided to go to the opera. +The good landlord was delighted to see me again, and hastened to light me +a fire, for a bitterly cold north wind was blowing. He assured me that +no one but himself had been in my room, and in the officer's presence he +gave me back my sword, my great coat, and, to my astonishment, the hat I +had dropped in my flight from the assassins. + +The officer asked me if I had any complaints to make, and I replied that +I had none. + +"I should like to hear you say that I had done nothing but my duty, and +that personally I have not done you any injury." + +I shook his hand, and assured him of my esteem. + +"Farewell, sir," said he, "I hope you will have a pleasant journey." +I told my landlord that I would dine at noon, and that I trusted to him +to celebrate my liberation in a fitting manner, and then I went to the +post office to see if there were any letters for me. I found five or six +letters, with the seals intact, much to my astonishment. What is one to +make of a Government which deprives a man of his liberty on some trifling +pretext, and, though seizing all his papers, respects the privacy of his +letters? But Spain, as I have remarked, is peculiar in every way. +These letters were from Paris, Venice, Warsaw, and Madrid, and I have +never had any reason to believe that any other letters had come for me +during my imprisonment. + +I went back to my inn, and asked my landlord to bring the bill. + +"You do not owe me anything, sir. Here is your bill for the period +preceding your imprisonment, and, as you see, it has been settled. I +also received orders from the same source to provide for you during your +imprisonment, and as long as you stayed at Barcelona." + +"Did you know how long I should remain in prison?" + +"No, I was paid by the week." + +"Who paid you?" + +"You know very well." + +"Have you had any note for me?" + +"Nothing at all." + +"What has become of the valet de place?" + +"I paid him, and sent him away immediately after your arrest." + +"I should like to have him with me as far as Perpignan." + +"You are right, and I think the best thing you can do is to leave Spain +altogether, for you will find no justice in it." + +"What do they say about my assassination?" + +"Why, they say you fired the shot that people heard yourself, and that +you made your own sword bloody, for no one was found there, either dead +or wounded." + +"That's an amusing theory. Where did my hat come from?" + +"It was brought to me three days after." + +"What a confusion! But was it known that I was imprisoned in the tower?" + +"Everybody knew it, and two good reasons were given, the one in public, +and the other in private." + +"What are these reasons?" + +"The public reason was that you had forged your passports; the private +one, which was only whispered at the ear, was that you spent all your +nights with Nina." + +"You might have sworn that I never slept out of your inn." + +"I told everyone as much, but no matter; you did go to her house, and for +a certain nobleman that's a crime. I am glad you did not fly as I +advised you, for as it is your character is cleared before everybody." + +"I should like to go to the opera this evening; take me a box." + +"It shall be done; but do not have anything more to do with Nina, I +entreat you." + +"No, my good friend, I have made up my mind to see her no more." + +Just as I was sitting down to dinner, a banker's clerk brought me a +letter which pleased me very much. It contained the bills of exchange I +had drawn in Genoa, in favour of M. Augustin Grimaldi. He now sent them +back, with these words: + +"Passano has been vainly endeavouring to persuade me to send these bills +to Barcelona, so that they may be protested, and you arrested. I now +send them to you to convince you that I am not one of those who delight +in trampling down the victims of bad fortune. + +"--Genoa, November 30th, 1768." + + +For the fourth time a Genoese had behaved most generously to me. I was +almost persuaded that I ought to forgive the infamous Passano for the +sake of his four excellent fellow-countrymen. + +But this virtue was a little beyond me. I concluded that the best thing +I could do would be to rid the Genoese name of the opprobrium which this +rascal was always bringing on it, but I could never find an opportunity. +Some years after I heard that the wretch died in miserable poverty in +Genoa. + +I was curious at the time to know what had become of him, as it was +important for me to be on my guard. I confided my curiosity to my +landlord, and he instructed one of the servants to make enquiries. I +only heard the following circumstance: + +Ascanio Pogomas, or Passano, had been released at the end of November, +and had then been embarked on a felucca bound for Toulon. + +The same day I wrote a long and grateful letter to M. Grimaldi. I had +indeed reason to be grateful, for if he had listened to my enemy he might +have reduced me to a state of dreadful misery. + +My landlord had taken the box at the opera in my name, and two hours +afterwards, to everyone's great astonishment, the posters announcing the +plays of the evening were covered by bills informing the public that two +of the performers had been taken ill, that the play would not be given, +and the theatre closed till the second day of the new year. + +This order undoubtedly came from the viceroy, and everybody knew the +reason. + +I was sorry to have deprived the people of Barcelona of the only +amusement they had in the evening, and resolved to stay indoors, thinking +that would be the most dignified course I could adopt. + +Petrarch says,-- + +'Amor che fa gentile un cor villano'. + +If he had known the lover of Nina he would have changed the line into + +'Amor che fa villan un cor gentile'. + +In four months I shall be able to throw some more light on this strange +business. + +I should have left Barcelona the same day, but a slight tinge of +superstition made me desire to leave on the last day of the unhappy year +I had spent in Spain. I therefore spent my three days of grace in +writing letters to all my friends. + +Don Miguel de Cevallos, Don Diego de la Secada, and the Comte de la +Peralada came to see me, but separately. Don Diego de la Secada was the +uncle of the Countess A---- B---- whom I had met at Milan. These +gentlemen told me a tale as strange as any of the circumstances which had +happened to me at Barcelona. + +On the 26th of December the Abbe Marquisio, the envoy of the Duke of +Modena, asked the viceroy, before a considerable number of people, if he +could pay me a visit, to give me a letter which he could place in no +hands but mine. If not he said he should be obliged to take the letter +to Madrid, for which town he was obliged to set out the next day. + +The count made no answer, to everyone's astonishment, and the abbe left +for Madrid the next day, the eve of my being set at liberty. + +I wrote to the abbe, who was unknown to me, but I never succeeded in +finding out the truth about this letter. + +There could be no doubt that I had been arrested by the despotic viceroy, +who had been persuaded by Nina that I was her favoured lover. The +question of my passports must have been a mere pretext, for eight or ten +days would have sufficed to send them to Madrid and have them back again +if their authenticity had been doubted. Possibly Passano might have told +the viceroy that any passports of mine were bound to be false, as I +should have had to obtain the signature of my own ambassador. This, he +might have said, was out of the question as I was in disgrace with the +Venetian Government. As a matter of fact, he was mistaken if he really +said so, but the mistake would have been an excusable one. + +When I made up my mind at the end of August to leave Madrid, I asked the +Count of Aranda for a passport. He replied that I must first obtain one +from my ambassador, who, he added, could not refuse to do me this +service. + +Fortified with this opinion I called at the embassy. M. Querini was at +San Ildefonso at the time, and I told the porter that I wanted to speak +to the secretary of embassy. + +The servant sent in my name, and the fop gave himself airs, and pretended +that he could not receive me. In my indignation I wrote to him saying +that I had not called to pay my court to the secretary, but to demand a +passport which was my right. I gave my name and my degree (doctor of +law), and begged him to leave the passport with the porter, as I should +call for it on the following day. + +I presented myself accordingly, and the porter told me that the +ambassador had left verbal orders that I was not to have a passport. + +I wrote immediately to the Marquis Grimaldi and to the Duke of Lossada, +begging them to request the ambassador to send me a passport in the usual +form, or else I should publish the shameful reasons for which his uncle +Mocenigo had disgraced me. + +I do not know whether these gentlemen shewed my letters to Querini, but I +do know that the secretary Oliviera sent me my passport. + +Thereupon the Count Aranda furnished me with a passport signed by the +king. + +On the last day of the year I left Barcelona with a servant who sat +behind my chaise, and I agreed with my driver to take me to Perpignan by +January 3rd, 1769. + +The driver was a Piedmontese and a worthy man: The next day he came into +the room of the wayside inn where I was dining, and in the presence of my +man asked me whether I had any suspicion that I was being followed. + +"Well, I may be," I said, "but what makes you ask that question?" + +"As you were leaving Barcelona yesterday, I noticed three ill-looking +fellows watching us, armed to the teeth. Last night they slept in the +stable with my mules. They dined here to-day, and they went on three +quarters of an hour ago. They don't speak to anyone, and I don't like +the looks of them." + +"What shall we do to avoid assassination, or the dread of it?" + +"We must start late, and stop at an inn I know of, a league this side of +the ordinary stage where they will be awaiting us. If they turn back, +and sleep at the same inn as ourselves, we shall be certain." + +I thought the idea a sensible one, and we started, I going on foot nearly +the whole way; and at five o'clock we halted at a wretched inn, but we +saw no signs of the sinister trio. + +At eight o'clock I was at supper, when my man came in and told me that +the three fellows had come back, and were drinking with our driver in the +stable. + +My hair stood on end. There could be no more doubt about the matter. + +At present, it was true, I had nothing to fear; but it would be getting +dark when we arrived at the frontier, and then my peril would come. + +I told my servant to shew no sign, but to ask the driver to come and +speak with me when the assassins were asleep. + +He came at ten o'clock, and told me plainly that we should be all +murdered as we approached the French frontier. + +"Then you have been drinking with them?" + +"Yes, and after we had dispatched a bottle at my expense, one of them +asked me why I had not gone on to the end of the stage, where you would +be better lodged. I replied that it was late, and you were cold. I +might have asked in my turn, why they had not stayed at the stage +themselves, and where they were going, but I took care to do nothing of +the kind. All I asked was whether the road to Perpignan was a good one, +and they told me it was excellent all the way." + +"What are they doing now?" + +"They are sleeping by my mules, covered with their cloaks." + +"What shall we do?" + +"We will start at day-break after them, of course, and we shall dine at +the usual stage; but after dinner, trust me, we will take a different +road, and at midnight we shall be in France safe and sound." + +If I could have procured a good armed escort I would not have taken his +advice, but in the situation I was in I had no choice. + +We found the three scoundrels in the place where the driver had told me +we should see them. I gave them a searching glance, and thought they +looked like true Sicarii, ready to kill anyone for a little money. + +They started in a quarter of an hour, and half an hour later we set out, +with a peasant to guide us, and so struck into a cross road. The mules +went at a sharp pace, and in seven hours we had done eleven leagues. At +ten o'clock we stopped at an inn in a French village, and we had no more +to fear. I gave our guide a doubloon, with which he was well pleased, +and I enjoyed once more a peaceful night in a French bed, for nowhere +will you find such soft beds or such delicious wines as in the good land +of France. + +The next day I arrived at the posting-inn at Perpignan in time for +dinner. I endeavoured in vain to think who could have paid my assassins, +but the reader will see the explanation when we get twenty days farther. + +At Perpignan I dismissed my driver and my servant, rewarding them +according to my ability. I wrote to my brother at Paris, telling him I +had had a fortunate escape from the dagger of the assassin. I begged him +to direct his answer to Aix, where I intended to spend a fortnight, in +the hope of seeing the Marquis d'Argens. I left Perpignan the day after +my arrival, and slept at Narbonne, and the day after at Beziers. + +The distance from Narbonne to Beziers is only five leagues, and I had not +intended to stop; but the good cheer which the kindest of landladies gave +me at dinner made me stop with her to supper. + +Beziers is a town which looks pleasant even at the worst time of the +year. A philosopher who wished to renounce all the vanities of the +world, and an Epicurean who would enjoy good cheer cheaply, could find no +better retreat than Beziers. + +Everybody at Beziers is intelligent, all the women are pretty, and the +cooks are all artists; the wines are exquisite--what more could one +desire! May its riches never prove its ruin! + +When I reached Montpellier, I got down at the "White Horse," with the +intention of spending a week there. In the evening I supped at the table +d'hote, where I found a numerous company, and I saw to my amusement that +for every guest there was a separate dish brought to table. + +Nowhere is there better fare than at Montpellier. 'Tis a veritable land +of Cocagne! + +The next day I breakfasted at the cafe (an institution peculiar to +France, the only country where the science of living is really +understood), and addressed the first gentleman I met, telling him that I +was a stranger and that I would like to know some of the professors. He +immediately offered to take me to one of the professors who enjoyed a +great reputation. + +Herein may be seen another of the good qualities of the French, who rank +above other nations by so many titles. To a Frenchman a foreigner is a +sacred being; he receives the best of hospitality, not merely in form, +but in deed; and his welcome is given with that easy grace which so soon +sets a stranger at his ease. + +My new friend introduced me to the professor, who received me with all +the polished courtesy of the French man of letters. He that loves +letters should love all other lovers of letters, and in France that is +the case, even more so than Italy. In Germany the literary man has an +air of mysterious reserve. He thinks he is proclaiming to all the world +that he at all events is a man of no pretension, whereas his pride peeps +through every moment. Naturally the stranger is not encouraged by such a +manner as this. + +At the time of my visit there was an excellent company of actors at +Montpellier, whom I went to see the same evening. My bosom swelled at +finding myself in the blessed air of France after all the annoyances I +had gone through in Spain. I seemed to have become young again; but I +was altered, for several beautiful and clever actresses appeared on the +stage without arousing any desires within me; and I would have it so. + +I had a lively desire to find Madame Castelbajac, not with any wish to +renew my old relations with her. I wished to congratulate her on her +improved position, but I was afraid of compromising her by asking for her +in the town. + +I knew that her husband was an apothecary, so I resolved to make the +acquaintance of all the apothecaries in the place. I pretended to be in +want of some very rare drugs, and entered into conversation about the +differences between the trade in France and in foreign countries. If I +spoke to the master I hoped he would talk to his wife about the stranger +who had visited the countries where she had been, and that that would +make her curious to know me. If, on the other hand, I spoke to the man, +I knew he would soon tell me all he knew about his master's family. + +On the third day my stratagem succeeded. My old friend wrote me a note, +telling me that she had seen me speaking to her husband in his shop. She +begged me to come again at a certain time, and to tell her husband that I +had known her under the name of Mdlle. Blasin in England, Spa, Leipzig, +and Vienna, as a seller of lace. She ended her note with these words: + +"I have no doubt that my husband will finally introduce you to me as his +wife." + +I followed her advice, and the good man asked me if I had ever known a +young lace seller of the name of Mdlle. Blasin, of Montpellier. + +"Yes, I remember her well enough--a delightful and most respectable young +woman; but I did not know she came from Montpellier. She was very pretty +and very sensible, and I expect she did a good business. I have seen her +in several European cities, and the last time at Vienna, where I was able +to be of some slight service to her. Her admirable behaviour won her the +esteem of all the ladies with whom she came in contact. In England I met +her at the house of a duchess." + +"Do you think you would recognize her if you saw her again?" + +"By Jove! I should think so! But is she at Montpellier? If so, tell +her that the Chevalier de Seingalt is here." + +"Sir, you shall speak to her yourself, if you will do me the honour to +follow me." + +My heart leapt, but I restrained myself. The worthy apothecary went +through the shop, climbed a stair, and, opening a door on the first +floor, said to me,-- + +"There she is." + +"What, mademoiselle! You here? I am delighted to see you." + +"This is not a young lady, sir, 'tis my dear wife; but I hope that will +not hinder you from embracing her." + +"I have never had such an honour; but I will avail myself of your +permission with pleasure. Then you have got married at Montpellier. I +congratulate both of you, and wish you all health and happiness. Tell +me, did you have a pleasant journey from Vienna to Lyons?" + +Madame Blasin (for so I must continue to designate her) answered my +question according to her fancy, and found me as good an actor as she was +an actress. + +We were very glad to see each other again, but the apothecary was +delighted at the great respect with which I treated his wife. + +For a whole hour we carried on a conversation of a perfectly imaginary +character, and with all the simplicity of perfect truth. + +She asked me if I thought of spending the carnival at Montpellier, and +seemed quite mortified when I said that I thought of going on the next +day. + +Her husband hastened to say that that was quite out of the question. + +"Oh, I hope you won't go," she added, "you must do my husband the honour +of dining with us." + +After the husband had pressed me for some time I gave in, and accepted +their invitation to dinner for the day after next. + +Instead of stopping two days I stopped four. I was much pleased with the +husband's mother, who was advanced in years but extremely intelligent. +She had evidently made a point of forgetting everything unpleasant in the +past history of her son's wife. + +Madame Blasin told me in private that she was perfectly happy, and I had +every reason to believe that she was speaking the truth. She had made a +rule to be most precise in fulfilling her wifely duties, and rarely went +out unless accompanied by her husband or her mother-in-law. + +I spent these four days in the enjoyment of pure and innocent friendship +without there being the slightest desire on either side to renew our +guilty pleasures. + +On the third day after I had dined with her and her husband, she told me, +while we were alone for a moment, that if I wanted fifty louis she knew +where to get them for me. I told her to keep them for another time, if I +was so happy as to see her again, and so unhappy as to be in want. + +I left Montpellier feeling certain that my visit had increased the esteem +in which her husband and her mother-in-law held her, and I congratulated +myself on my ability to be happy without committing any sins. + +The day after I had bade them farewell, I slept at Nimes, where I spent +three days in the company of a naturalist: M. de Seguier, the friend of +the Marquis Maffei of Verona. In his cabinet of natural history I saw +and admired the immensity and infinity of the Creator's handiwork. + +Nimes is a town well worthy of the stranger's observation; it provides +food for the mind, and the fair sex, which is really fair there, should +give the heart the food it likes best. + +I was asked to a ball, where, as a foreigner, I took first place--a +privilege peculiar to France, for in England, and still more in Spain, a +foreigner means an enemy. + +On leaving Nimes I resolved to spend the carnival at Aix, where the +nobility is of the most distinguished character. I believe I lodged at +the "Three Dolphins," where I found a Spanish cardinal on his way to Rome +to elect a successor to Pope Rezzonico. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +My Stay at Aix; I Fall Ill--I am Cared for By an Unknown Lady-- +The Marquis d'Argens--Cagliostro + +My room was only separated from his Castilian eminence's by a light +partition, and I could hear him quite plainly reprimanding his chief +servant for being too economical. + +"My lord, I do my best, but it is really impossible to spend more, unless +I compel the inn-keepers to take double the amount of their bills; and +your eminence will admit that nothing in the way of rich and expensive +dishes has been spared." + +"That may be, but you ought to use your wits a little; you might for +example order meals when we shall not require any. Take care that there +are always three tables--one for us, one for my officers, and the third +for the servants. Why I see that you only give the postillions a franc +over the legal charge, I really blush for you; you must give them a crown +extra at least. When they give you change for a louis, leave it on the +table; to put back one's change in one's pocket is an action only worthy +of a beggar. They will be saying at Versailles and Madrid, and maybe at +Rome itself, that the Cardinal de la Cerda is a miser. I am no such +thing, and I do not want to be thought one. You must really cease to +dishonour me, or leave my service." + +A year before this speech would have astonished me beyond measure, but +now I was not surprised, for I had acquired some knowledge of Spanish +manners. I might admire the Senor de la Cerda's prodigality, but I could +not help deploring such ostentation on the part of a Prince of the Church +about to participate in such a solemn function. + +What I had heard him say made me curious to see him, and I kept on the +watch for the moment of his departure. What a man! He was not only ill +made, short and sun-burnt; but his face was so ugly and so low that I +concluded that AEsop himself must have been a little Love beside his +eminence. I understood now why he was so profuse in his generosity and +decorations, for otherwise he might well have been taken for a stableboy. +If the conclave took the eccentric whim of making him pope, Christ would +never have an uglier vicar. + +I enquired about the Marquis d'Argens soon after the departure of his +eminence, and was told that he was in the country with his brother, the +Marquis d'Eguille, President of the Parliament, so I went there. + +This marquis, famous for his friendship for Frederick II. rather than for +his writings (which are no longer read), was an old man when I saw him. +He was a worthy man, fond of pleasure, a thorough-paced Epicurean, and +had married an actress named Cochois, who had proved worthy of the honour +he had laid on her. He was deeply learned and had a thorough knowledge +of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew literature. His memory was prodigious. + +He received me very well, and recalled what his friend the marshal had +written about me. He introduced me to his wife and to his brother, a +distinguished jurist, a man of letters, and a strictly moral man by +temperament as much as religion. Though a highly intellectual man, he +was deeply and sincerely religious. + +He was very fond of his brother, and grieved for his irreligion, but +hoped that grace would eventually bring him back to the fold of the +Church. His brother encouraged him in his hopes, while laughing at them +in private, but as they were both sensible men they never discussed +religion together. + +I was introduced to a numerous company of both sexes, chiefly consisting +of relations. All were amiable and highly polished, like all the +Provencal nobility. + +Plays were performed on the miniature stage, good cheer prevailed, and at +intervals we walked in the garden, in spite of the weather. In Province, +however, the winter is only severe when the wind blows from the north, +which unfortunately often happens. + +Among the company were a Berlin lady (widow of the marquis's nephew) and +her brother. This young gentleman, who was gay and free from care, +enjoyed all the pleasures of the house without paying any attention to +the religious services which were held every day. If he thought on the +matter at all, he was a heretic; and when the Jesuit chaplain was saying +mass he amused himself by playing on the flute; he laughed at everything. +He was unlike his sister, who had not only become a Catholic, but was a +very devout one. She was only twenty-two. + +Her brother told me that her husband, who had died of consumption, and +whose mind was perfectly clear to the last, as is usually the case in +phthisis, had told her that he could not entertain any hopes of seeing +her in the other world unless she became a Catholic. + +These words were engraved on her heart; she had adored her husband, and +she resolved to leave Berlin to live with his relations. No one ventured +to oppose this design, her brother accompanying her, and she was welcomed +joyfully by all her husband's kinsfolk. + +This budding saint was decidedly plain. + +Her brother, finding me less strict than the others, soon constituted +himself my friend. He came over to Aix every day, and took me to the +houses of all the best people. + +We were at least thirty at table every day, the dishes were delicate +without undue profusion, the conversation gay and animated without any +improprieties. I noticed that whenever the Marquis d'Argens chanced to +let slip any equivocal expressions, all the ladies made wry faces, and +the chaplain hastened to turn the conversation. This chaplain had +nothing jesuitical in his appearance; he dressed in the costume of an +ordinary priest, and I should never had known him if the Marquis d'Argens +had not warned me. However, I did not allow his presence to act as a wet +blanket. + +I told, in the most decent manner possible, the story of the picture of +the Virgin suckling her Divine Child, and how the Spaniards deserted the +chapel after a stupid priest had covered the beautiful breast with a +kerchief. I do not know how it was, but all the ladies began to laugh. +The disciple of Loyola was so displeased at their mirth, that he took +upon himself to tell me that it was unbecoming to tell such equivocal +stories in public. I thanked him by an inclination of the head, and the +Marquis d'Argens, by way of turning the conversation, asked me what was +the Italian for a splendid dish of stewed veal, which Madame d'Argens was +helping. + +"Una crostata," I replied, "but I really do not know the Italian for the +'beatilles' with which it is stuffed." + +These 'beatilles' were balls of rice, veal, champignons, artichoke, foie +gras, etc. + +The Jesuit declared that in calling them 'beatilles' I was making a mock +of the glories of hereafter. + +I could not help roaring with laughter at this, and the Marquis d'Eguille +took my part, and said that 'beatilles' was the proper French for these +balls. + +After this daring difference of opinion with his director, the worthy man +thought it would be best to talk of something else. Unhappily, however, +he fell out of the frying-pan into the fire by asking me my opinion as to +the election of the next pope. + +"I believe it will be Ganganelli," I replied, "as he is the only monk in +the conclave." + +"Why should it be necessary to choose a monk?" + +"Because none but a monk would dare to commit the excess which the +Spaniards will demand of the new pope." + +"You mean the suppression of the Jesuits." + +"Exactly." + +"They will never obtain such a demand." + +"I hope not, for the Jesuits were my masters, and I love them +accordingly. But all the same Ganganelli will be elected, for an amusing +and yet a weighty reason." + +"Tell us the reason." + +"He is the only cardinal who does not wear a wig; and you must consider +that since the foundation of the Holy See the Pope has never been +bewigged." + +This reason created a great deal of amusement; but the conversation was +brought back to the suppression of the Jesuits, and when I told the +company that I had heard from the Abbe Pinzi I saw the Jesuit turn pale. + +"The Pope could never suppress the order," he said. + +"It seems that you have never been at a Jesuit seminary," I replied, "for +the dogma of the order is that the Pope can do everything, 'et aliquid +pluris'." + +This answer made everybody suppose me to be unaware that I was speaking +to a Jesuit, and as he gave me no answer the topic was abandoned. + +After dinner I was asked to stay and see 'Polieucte' played; but I +excused myself, and returned to Aix with the young Berliner, who told me +the story of his sister, and made me acquainted with the character of the +society to which the Marquis d'Eguille was chiefly addicted. I felt that +I could never adapt myself to their prejudices, and if it had not been +for my young friend, who introduced me to some charming people, I should +have gone on to Marseilles. + +What with assemblies, balls, suppers, and the society of the handsome +Provenqal ladies, I managed to spend the whole of the carnival and a part +of Lent at Aix. + +I had made a present of a copy of the "Iliad" to the learned Marquis +d'Argens; to his daughter, who was also a good scholar, I gave a Latin +tragedy. + +The "Iliad" had Porphyry's comment; it was a copy of a rare edition, and +was richly bound. + +As the marquis came to Aix to thank me, I had to pay another visit to the +country house. + +In the evening I drove back in an open carriage. I had no cloak, and a +cold north wind was blowing; I was perishing with cold, but instead of +going to bed at once I accompanied the Berliner to the house of a woman +who had a daughter of the utmost beauty. Though the girl was only +fourteen, she had all the indications of the marriageable age, and yet +none of the Provencal amateurs had succeeded in making her see daylight. +My friend had already made several unsuccessful efforts. I laughed at +him, as I knew it was all a cheat, and I followed him to the house with +the idea of making the young imposter dismount from her high horse, as I +had done in similar cases in England and Metz. + +We set to work; and, far from resisting, the girl said she would be only +too glad to get rid of the troublesome burden. + +I saw that the difficulty only proceeded from the way she held herself, +and I ought to have whipped her, as I had done in Venice twenty-five +years ago, but I was foolish enough to try to take the citadel by storm. +But my age of miracles was gone. + +I wearied myself to no purpose for a couple of hours, and then went to my +inn, leaving the young Prussian to do his best. + +I went to bed with a pain in my side, and after six hours' sleep awoke +feeling thoroughly ill. I had pleurisy. My landlord called in an old +doctor, who refused to let me blood. A severe cough came on, and the +next day I began to spit blood. In six or seven days the malady became +so serious that I was confessed and received the last sacraments. + +On the tenth day, the disease having abated for three days, my clever old +doctor answered for my life, but I continued to spit blood till the +eighteenth day. + +My convalescence lasted for three weeks, and I found it more trying than +the actual illness, for a man in pain has no time to grow weary. +Throughout the whole case I was tended day and night by a strange woman, +of whom I knew nothing. She nursed me with the tenderest care, and I +awaited my recovery to give her my sincere thanks. + +She was not an old woman, neither was she attractive looking. She had +slept in my room all the time. After Eastertide, feeling I was well +enough to venture out, I thanked her to the best of my ability, and asked +who had sent her to me. She told me it was the doctor, and so bade me +farewell. + +A few days later I was thanking my old doctor for having procured me such +a capital nurse, but he stared at me and said he knew nothing about the +woman. + +I was puzzled, and asked my landlord if she could throw any light on the +strange nurse's identity; but she knew nothing, and her ignorance seemed +universal. I could not discover whence or how she came to attend me. + +After my convalescence I took care to get all the letters which had been +awaiting me, and amongst them was a letter from my brother in Paris, in +answer to the epistle I wrote him from Perpignan. He acknowledged my +letter, and told me how delighted he had been to receive it, after +hearing the dreadful news that I had been assassinated on the borders of +Catalonia at the beginning of January. + +"The person who gave me the news," my brother added, "was one of your +best friends, Count Manucci, an attache at the Venetian embassy. He said +there could be no doubt as to the truth of the report." + +This letter was like a flash of lightning to me. This friend of mine had +pushed his vengeance so far as to pay assassins to deprive me of my life. + +Manucci had gone a little too far. + +He must have been pretty well qualified to prophesy, as he was so certain +of my death. He might have known that in thus proclaiming in advance the +manner of my death, he was also proclaiming himself as my murderer. + +I met him at Rome, two years later, and when I would have made him +confess his guilt, he denied everything, saying he had received the news +from Barcelona; however, we will speak of this in its proper place. + +I dined and supped every day at the table d'hote, and one day I heard the +company talking of a male and female pilgrim who had recently arrived. +They were Italians, and were returning from St. James of Compostella. +They were said to be high-born folks, as they had distributed large alms +on their entry into the town. + +It was said that the female pilgrim, who had gone to bed on her arrival, +was charming. They were staying at the same inn as I was, and we all got +very curious about them. + +As an Italian, I put myself at the head of the band who proceeded to call +on the pilgrims, who, in my opinion, must either be fanatics or rogues. + +We found the lady sitting in an arm-chair, looking very tired. She was +young, beautiful, and melancholy-looking, and in her hands she held a +brass crucifix some six inches long. She laid it down when we came in, +and got up and received us most graciously. Her companion, who was +arranging cockle-shells on his black mantle, did not stir; he seemed to +say, by glancing at his wife, that we must confine our attentions to her. +He seemed a man of twenty-four or twenty-five years of age. He was short +and badly hung, and his face bore all the indications of daring, +impudence, scarcasm, and imposture. His wife, on the other hand, was all +meekness and simplicity, and had that modesty which adds so much to the +charm of feminine beauty. They only spoke just enough French to make +themselves understood on their journey, and when they heard me addressing +them in Italian they seemed much relieved. + +The lady told me she was a Roman, but I could have guessed as much from +her accent. I judged the man to be a Neapolitan or Sicilian. Their +passport, dated Rome, called him Balsamo, while she bore the names of +Serafina Feliciani, which she still retains. Ten years later we shall +hear more of this couple under the name of Cagliostro. + +"We are going back to Rome," said she, "well pleased with our devotions +to St. James of Compostella and to Our Lady del Pilar. We have walked +the whole way on foot, living on alms, so as to more surely win the mercy +of the God whom I have offended so grievously. We have had silver, and +even gold money given us, and in every town we came to we gave what +remained to the poor, so as not to offend God by lack of faith. + +"My husband is strong, and has not suffered much, but I have found so +much walking very fatiguing. We have slept on straw or bad beds, always +with our clothes on, to avoid contracting diseases it would be hard to +rid one's self of." + +It seemed to me that this last circumstance was added to make us wish to +find out whether the rest of her body could compare with her hands and +arms in whiteness. + +"Do you think of making any stay?" + +"My weariness will oblige us to stay here for three days; then we shall +go to Rome by the way of Turin, where we shall pay our devotion to the +Holy Sudary." + +"You know, of course, that there are several of them in Europe." + +"So we have heard, but we are assured that the Sudary of Turin is the +true one. It is the kerchief with which St. Veronica wiped the face of +Our Lord, who left the imprint of His divine face upon it." + +We left them, well pleased with the appearance and manners of the lady +pilgrim, but placing very little trust in her devotion. I was still weak +from my illness, and she inspired me with no desires, but the rest would +have gladly supped with her if they had thought there was anything to +follow. + +Next day her husband asked me if I would come up and breakfast with them, +or if they should come down and breakfast with me. It would have been +impolite to have replied neither, so I said that I should be delighted to +see them in my room. + +At breakfast I asked the pilgrim what he did, and he replied that he was +an artist. + +He could not design a picture, but he could copy it, and he assured me +that he could copy an engraving so exactly that none could tell the copy +from the original. + +"I congratulate you. If you are not a rich man, you are, at least, +certain of earning a living with this talent." + +"Everybody says the same, but it is a mistake. I have pursued this craft +at Rome and at Naples, and found I had to work all day to make half a +tester, and that's not enough to live on." + +He then shewed me some fans he had done, and I thought them most +beautiful. They were done in pen and ink, and the finest copper-plate +could not have surpassed them. + +Next he showed me a copy from a Rembrandt, which if anything, was finer +than the original. In spite of all he swore that the work he got barely +supported him, but I did not believe what he said. He was a weak genius +who preferred a vagabond life to methodical labour. + +I offered a Louis for one of his fans, but he refused to take it, begging +me to accept the fan as a gift, and to make a collection for him at the +table d'hote, as he wanted to start the day after next. + +I accepted the present and promised to do as he desired, and succeeded in +making up a purse of two hundred francs for them. + +The woman had the most virtuous air. She was asked to write her name on +a lottery ticket, but refused, saying that no honest girls were taught to +write at Rome. + +Everybody laughed at this excuse except myself, and I pitied her, as I +could see that she was of very low origin. + +Next day she came and asked me to give her a letter of introduction for +Avignon. I wrote her out two; one to M. Audifret the banker, and the +other to the landlady of the inn. In the evening she returned me the +letter to the banker, saying that it was not necessary for their +purposes. At the same time she asked me to examine the letter closely, +to see if it was really the same document I had given her. I did so, and +said I was sure it was my letter. + +She laughed, and told me I was mistaken as it was only a copy. + +"Impossible!" + +She called her husband, who came with the letter in his hand. + +I could doubt no longer, and said to him,-- + +"You are a man of talents, for it is much harder to imitate a handwriting +than an engraving. You ought to make this talent serve you in good +stead; but be careful, or it may cost you your life." + +The next day the couple left Aix. In ten years I saw them again under +the name of Count and Countess Pellegrini. + +At the present period he is in a prison which he will probably never +leave, and his wife is happy, maybe, in a convent. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +My Departure--Letter from Henriette--Marsellies--History of Nina--Nice-- +Turin--Lugano--Madame De**** + +As soon as I had regained my usual strength, I went to take leave of the +Marquis d'Argens and his brother. I dined with them, pretending not to +observe the presence of the Jesuit, and I then spent three delightful +hours in conversation with the learned and amiable Marquis d'Argens. He +told me a number of interesting anecdotes about the private life of +Frederick II. No doubt the reader would like to have them, but I lack +the energy to set them down. Perhaps some other day when the mists about +Dux have dispersed, and some rays of the sun shine in upon me, I shall +commit all these anecdotes to paper, but now I have not the courage to do +so. + +Frederick had his good and his bad qualities, like all great men, but +when every deduction on the score of his failings has been made, he still +remains the noblest figure in the eighteenth century. + +The King of Sweden, who has been assassinated, loved to excite hatred +that he might have the glory of defying it to do its worst. He was a +despot at heart, and he came to a despot's end. He might have foreseen a +violent death, for throughout his life he was always provoking men to the +point of despair. There can be no comparison between him and Frederick. + +The Marquis d'Argens made me a present of all his works, and on my asking +him if I could congratulate myself on possessing the whole number, he +said yes, with the exception of a fragment of autobiography which he had +written in his youth, and which he had afterwards suppressed. + +"Why so?" I asked. + +"Because I was foolish enough to write the truth. Never give way to this +temptation, if it assails you. If you once begin on this plan you are +not only compelled to record all your vices and follies, but to treat +them in the severe tone of a philosophical historian. You must not, of +course, omit the good you may have done; and so praise and blame is +mingled on every page. All the evil you say of yourself will be held for +gospel, your peccadilloes will be made into crimes, and your good deeds +will not only be received with incredulity, but you will be taxed with +pride and vanity for having recorded them. Besides, if you write your +memoirs, you make an enemy in every chapter if you once begin to tell the +truth. A man should neither talk of himself nor write of himself, unless +it be to refute some calumny or libel." + +I was convinced, and promised never to be guilty of such a folly, but in +spite of that I have been writing memoirs for the last seven years, and +though I repent of having begun, I have sworn to go on to the end. +However, I write in the hope that my Memoirs may never see the light of +day; in the first place the censure would not allow them to be printed, +and in the second I hope I shall be strong-minded enough, when my last +illness comes, to have all my papers burnt before my eyes. If that be +not the case I count on the indulgence of my readers, who should remember +that I have only written my story to prevent my going mad in the midst of +all the petty insults and disagreeables which I have to bear day by day +from the envious rascals who live with me in this castle of Count +Waldstein, or Wallenstein, at Dux. + +I write ten or twelve hours a day, and so keep black melancholy at bay. +My readers shall hear more of my sufferings later on, if I do not die +before I write them down. + +The day after Corpus Christi I left Aix for Marseilles. But here I must +set down a circumstance that I had forgotten; I mean the procession of +Corpus Christi. + +Everyone knows that this festival is celebrated with great ceremony all +over Christendom; but at Aix these ceremonies are of such a nature that +every man of sense must be shocked at my recital. + +It is well known that this procession in honour of the Being of beings, +represented under the sacramental forms, is followed by all the religious +confraternities, and this is duly done at Aix; but the scandalous part of +the ceremony is the folly and the buffoonery which is allowed in a rite +which should be designed to stir up the hearts of men to awe and +reverence their Creator. + +Instead of that, the devil, death, and the seven deadly sins, are +impersonated in the procession. They are clad in the most absurd +costumes, and make hideous contortions, beating and abusing each other in +their supposed vexation at having to join in the Creator's praises. The +people hoot and hiss them, the lower classes sing songs in derision of +them, and play them all manner of tricks, and the whole scene is one of +incredible noise, uproar, and confusion, more worthy of some pagan +bacchanalia than a procession of Christian people. All the country-folk +from five or six leagues around Aix pour into the town on that day to do +honour to God. It is the only occasion of the kind, and the clergy, +either knavish or ignorant, encourage all this shameful riot. The lower +orders take it all in good faith, and anyone who raised any objection +would run some risk, for the bishop goes in front of the saturnalia, and +consequently it is all holy. + +I expressed my disapproval of the whole affair, as likely to bring +discredit on religion, to a councillor of parliament, M. de St. Marc; but +he told me gravely that it was an excellent thing, as it brought no less +than a hundred thousand francs into the town on the single day. + +I could find no reply to this very weighty reason. + +Every day I spent at Aix I thought of Henriette. I knew her real name, +and remembering the message she had sent me by Marcoline I hoped to meet +her in some assembly, being ready to adapt my conduct to hers. I had +often heard her name mentioned, but I never allowed myself to ask any +question, not wishing our old friendship to be suspected. Believing her +to be at her country house, I had resolved on paying her a visit, and had +only stayed on at Aix so as to recover my health before seeing her. In +due course I left Aix with a letter in my pocket for her, resolving to +send it in, and to remain in my carriage till she asked me to get down. + +We arrived at her residence at eleven o'clock. A man came to the door, +took my letter, and said madam should have it without fail. + +"Then she is not here." + +"No, sir; she is at Aix." + +"Since when?" + +"For the last six months." + +"Where does she live?" + +"In her town house. She will be coming here in three weeks to spend the +summer as usual." + +"Will you let me write a letter?" + +"If you will get down you will find all the necessary materials in +madam's room." + +I went into the house, and to my extreme surprise found myself face to +face with my nurse. + +"You live here, then." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Since when?" + +"For the last ten years." + +"How did you come to nurse me?" + +"If you will step upstairs I will tell you." + +Her story was as follows: + +"Madam sent for me in haste, and told me to go and attend to you as if it +were herself. She told me to say that the doctor had sent me if you +asked any questions." + +"The doctor said he didn't know you." + +"Perhaps he was speaking the truth, but most likely he had received +orders from madam. That's all I know, but I wonder you haven't seen her +at Aix." + +"She cannot see any company, for I have been everywhere." + +"She does not see any company at her own house, but she goes everywhere." + +"It's very strange. I must have seen her, and yet I do not think I could +have passed her by unrecognized. You have been with her ten years?" + +"Yes, sir, as I had the honour of informing you." + +"Has she changed? Has she had any sickness? Has she aged?" + +"Not at all. She has become rather stout, but I assure you you would +take her for a woman of thirty." + +"I must be blind, or I cannot have seen her. I am going to write to her +now." + +The woman went out, leaving me in astonishment, at the extraordinary +situation in which I was placed. + +"Ought I to return to Aix immediately?" I asked myself. She has a town +house, but does not see company, but she might surely see me: She loves +me still. She cared for me all through my illness, and she would not +have done so if she had become indifferent to me. She will be hurt at my +not recognizing her. She must know that I have left Aix, and will no +doubt guess that I am here now. Shall I go to her or shall I write? +I resolved to write, and I told her in my letter that I should await her +reply at Marseilles. I gave the letter to my late nurse, with some money +to insure its being dispatched at once, and drove on to Marseilles where +I alighted at an obscure inn, not wishing to be recognized. I had +scarcely got out of my carriage when I saw Madame Schizza, Nina's sister. +She had left Barcelona with her husband. They had been at Marseilles +three or four days and were going to Leghorn. + +Madame Schizza was alone at the moment, her husband having gone out; and +as I was full of curiosity I begged her to come up to my room while my +dinner was getting ready. + +"What is your sister doing? Is she still at Barcelona?" + +"Yes; but she will not be there long, for the bishop will not have her in +the town or the diocese, and the bishop is stronger than the viceroy. +She only returned to Barcelona on the plea that she wished to pass +through Catalonia of her way home, but she does not need to stay there +for nine or ten months on that account. She will have to leave in a +month for certain, but she is not much put out, as the viceroy is sure to +keep her wherever she goes, and she may eventually succeed in ruining +him. In the meanwhile she is revelling in the bad repute she has gained +for her lover." + +"I know something of her peculiarities; but she cannot dislike a man who +has made her rich." + +"Rich! She has only got her diamonds. Do you imagine this monster +capable of any feelings of gratitude? She is not a human being, and no +one knows her as I do. She has made the count commit a hundred acts of +injustice so that all Spain may talk of her, and know that she has made +herself mistress of his body and soul, and all he has. The worse his +actions are, the more certain she feels that people will talk of her, and +that is all she wants. Her obligations to me are beyond counting, for +she owes me all, even to her existence, and instead of continuing my +husband in her service she has sent him about his business." + +"Then I wonder how she came to treat me so generously." + +"If you knew all, you would not feel grateful to her." + +"Tell me all, then." + +"She only paid for your keep at the inn and in prison to make people +believe you were her lover, and to shame the count. All Barcelona knows +that you were assassinated at her door, and that you were fortunate +enough to run the fellow through." + +"But she cannot have been the instigator of, or even the accomplice in, +the plot for my assassination. That's against nature." + +"I dare say, but everything in Nina is against nature. What I tell you +is the bare truth, for I was a witness of it all. Whenever the viceroy +visited her she wearied him with praise of your gallantry, your wit, your +noble actions, comparing you with the Spaniards, greatly to their +disadvantage. + +"The count got impatient and told her to talk of something else, but she +would not; and at last he went away, cursing your name. Two days before +you came to grief he left her, saying,-- + +"'Valga me Dios! I will give you a pleasure you do not expect.' + +"I assure you that when we heard the pistol-shot after you had gone, she +remarked, without evincing the slightest emotion, that the shot was the +pleasure her rascally Spaniard had promised her. + +"I said that you might be killed. + +"'All the worse for the count,' she replied, 'for his turn will come +also.' + +"Then she began laughing like a madcap; she was thinking of the +excitement your death would cause in Barcelona. + +"At eight o'clock the following day, your man came and told her that you +had been taken to the citadel; and I will say it to her credit, she +seemed relieved to hear you were alive." + +"My man--I did not know that he was in correspondence with her." + +"No, I suppose not; but I assure you the worthy man was very much +attached to you." + +"I am sure he was. Go on." + +"Nina then wrote a note to your landlord. She did not shew it me, but it +no doubt contained instructions to supply you with everything. + +"The man told us that he had seen your sword all red with blood, and that +your cloak had a bullet hole through it. She was delighted, but do not +think it was because she loved you; she was glad you had escaped that you +might take your revenge. However, she was troubled by the pretext on +which the count had had you arrested. + +"Ricla did not come to see her that day, but he came the next day at +eight o'clock, and the infamous creature received him with a smiling +face. She told him she had heard he had imprisoned you, and that she was +obliged to him, as he had, of course, done so to protect you from any +fresh attempts on your life. + +"He answered, dryly, that your arrest had nothing to do with anything +that might have happened the night before. He added that you had only +been seized pending the examination of your papers, and that if they were +found to be in good form, you would be set at liberty in the course of a +few days. + +"Nina asked him who was the man that you had wounded. He replied that +the police were enquiring into the matter, but that so far they had +neither found a dead man nor a wounded man, nor any traces of blood. All +that had been found was Casanova's hat, and this had been returned to +him. + +"I left them alone together till midnight, so I cannot say what further +converse they may have had on the subject, but three or four days later +everybody knew that you were imprisoned in the tower. + +"Nina asked the count the reason of this severity in the evening, and he +replied that your passports were thought to be forgeries, because you +were in disgrace with the State Inquisitors, and therefore would not be +in a position to get a passport from the Venetian ambassador. On this +supposition he said you had been placed in the tower, and if it proved to +be a true one, you would be still more severely punished. + +"This news disturbed us, and when we heard that Pogomas had been arrested +we felt certain he had denounced you in revenge for your having procured +his dismissal from Nina's house. When we heard that he had been let out +and sent to Genoa, we expected to hear of your being set at liberty, as +the authorities must have been satisfied of the genuine character of your +passports; but you were still shut up, and Nina did not know what to +think, and the count would not answer her when she made enquiries about +you. She had made up her mind to say no more about it, when at last we +heard you had been set free and that your passports had been declared +genuine. + +"Nina thought to see you in the pit of the opera-house, and made +preparations for a triumph in her box; but she was in despair when she +heard no performance was to be given. In the evening the count told her +that your passports had been returned with the order to leave in three +days. The false creature praised her lover's prudence to his face, but +she cursed him in her heart. + +"She knew you would not dare to see her, and when you left without +writing her a note, she said you had received secret orders not to hold +any further communications with her. She was furious with the viceroy. + +"'If Casanova had had the courage to ask me to go with him, I would have +gone,' said she. + +"Your man told her of your fortunate escape from three assassins. In the +evening she congratulated Ricla on the circumstance, but he swore he knew +nothing about it. Nina did not believe him. You may thank God from the +bottom of your heart that you ever left Spain alive after knowing Nina. +She would have cost you your life at last, and she punishes me for having +given her life." + +"What! Are you her mother?" + +"Yes; Nina, that horrible woman, is my daughter." + +"Really? Everybody says you are her sister." + +"That is the horrible part of it, everybody is right." + +"Explain yourself" + +"Yes, though it is to my shame. She is my sister and my daughter, for +she is the daughter of my father." + +"What! your father loved you?" + +"I do not know whether the scoundrel loved me, but he treated me as his +wife. I was sixteen then. She is the daughter of the crime, and God +knows she is sufficient punishment for it. My father died to escape her +vengeance; may he also escape the vengeance of God. I should have +strangled her in her cradle, but maybe I shall strangle her yet. If I do +not, she will kill me." + +I remained dumb at the conclusion of this dreadful story, which bore all +the marks of truth. + +"Does Nina know that you are her mother?" + +"Her own father told her the secret when she was twelve, after he had +initiated her into the life she has been living ever since. He would +have made her a mother in her turn if he had not killed himself the same +year, maybe to escape the gallows." + +"How did the Conte de Ricla fall in love with her?" + +"It is a short story and a curious one. Two years ago she came to +Barcelona from Portugal, and was placed in one of the ballets for the +sake of her pretty face, for as to talents she had none, and could only +do the rebaltade (a sort of skip and pirouette) properly. + +"The first evening she danced she was loudly applauded by the pit, for as +she did the rebaltade she shewed her drawers up to her waist. In Spain +any actress who shews her drawers on the stage is liable to a fine of a +crown. Nina knew nothing about this, and, hearing the applause, treated +the audience to another skip of the same kind, but at the end of the +ballet she was told to pay two crowns for her immodesty. Nina cursed and +swore, but she had to give in. What do you think she did to elude the +law, and at the same time avenge herself?" + +"Danced badly, perhaps." + +"She danced without any drawers at all, and did her rebdltade as before, +which caused such an effervescence of high spirits in the house as had +never been known at Barcelona. + +"The Conte de Ricla had seen her from his box, and was divided between +horror and admiration, and sent for the inspector to tell him that this +impudent creature must be punished. + +"'In the mean time,' said he, 'bring her before me.' + +"Presently Nina appeared in the viceroy's box, and asked him, impudently, +what he wanted with her. + +"'You are an immodest woman, and have failed in your duty to the public.' + +"'What have I done? + +"'You performed the same skip as before.' + +"'Yes, but I haven't broken your law, for no one can have seen my drawers +as I took the precaution not to put any on. What more can I do for your +cursed law, which has cost me two crowns already? Just tell me.' + +"The viceroy and the great personages around him had much ado to refrain +from laughter, for Nina was really in the right, and a serious discussion +of the violated law would have been ridiculous. + +"The viceroy felt he was in a false position, and merely said that if she +ever danced without drawers again she should have a month's imprisonment +on bread and water. + +"A week after one of my husband's ballets was given. It was so well +received that the audience encored it with enthusiasm. Ricla gave orders +that the public should be satisfied, and all the dancers were told they +would have to reappear. + +"Nina, who was almost undressed, told my husband to do as best he could, +as she was not going to dance again. As she had the chief part my +husband could not do without her, and sent the manager to her dressing- +room. She pushed the poor man out with so much violence that he fell +against the wall of the passage, head foremost. + +"The manager told his piteous tale to the viceroy, who ordered two +soldiers to bring her before him. This was his ruin; for Nina is a +beautiful woman, and in her then state of undress she would have seduced +the coldest of men. + +"The count reproved her, but his voice and his manner were ill-assured, +and growing bolder as she watched his embarrassment, Nina replied that he +might have her torn to pieces if he liked, but she would not dance +against her will, and nowhere in her agreement was it stipulated that she +should dance twice in the same evening, whether for his pleasure or +anyone else's. She also expressed her anger at making her appear before +him in a state of semi-nudity, and swore she would never forgive his +barbarous and despotic conduct. + +"'I will dance no more before you or your people. + +'Let me go away, or kill me if you like; do your worst on me, and you +shall find that I am a Venetian and a free woman!' + +"The viceroy sat astonished, and said she must be mad. He then summoned +my husband and told him she was no longer in his service. Nina was told +she was free, and could go where she would. + +"She went back to her dressing-room and came to us, where she was living. + +"The ballet went on without her, and the poor viceroy sat in a dream, for +the poison had entered into his veins. + +"Next day a wretched singer named Molinari called on Nina and told her +that the viceroy was anxious to know whether she were really mad or not, +and would like to see her in a country house, the name of which he +mentioned: this was just what the wretched woman wanted. + +"'Tell his highness,' she said to Molinari, "that I will come, and that +he will find me as gentle as a lamb and as good as an angel.' + +"This is the way in which the connection began, and she fathomed his +character so astutely that she maintained her conquest as much with ill- +treatment and severity as with her favours." + +Such was the tale of the hapless Madame Schizza. It was told with all +the passion of an Italian divided between repentance for the past and the +desire of vengeance. + +The next day, as I had expected, I received a letter from Henriette. It +ran as follows: + +"My Dear Old Friend,--Nothing could be more romantic than our meeting at +my country house six years ago, and now again, after a parting of so many +years. Naturally we have both grown older, and though I love you still I +am glad you did not recognize me. Not that I have become ugly, but I am +stout, and this gives me another look. I am a widow, and well enough off +to tell you that if you lack money you will find some ready for you in +Henriette's purse. Do not come back to Aix to see me, as your return +might give rise to gossip; but if you chance to come here again after +some time, we may meet, though not as old acquaintances. I am happy to +think that I have perhaps prolonged your days by giving you a nurse for +whose trustworthiness I would answer. If you would like to correspond +with me I should be happy to do my part. I am very curious to know what +happened to you after your flight from The Leads, and after the proofs +you have given me of your discretion I think I shall be able to tell you +how we came to meet at Cesena, and how I returned to my country. The +first part is a secret for everyone; only M. d'Antoine is acquainted with +a portion of the story. I am grateful for the reticence you have +observed, though Marcoline must have delivered the message I gave her. +Tell me what has become of that beautiful girl. Farewell!" + +I replied, accepting her offer to correspond, and I told her the whole +story of my adventures. From her I received forty letters, in which the +history of her life is given. If she die before me, I shall add these +letters to my Memoirs, but at present she is alive and happy, though +advanced in years. + +The day after I went to call on Madame Audibert, and we went together to +see Madame N---- N----, who was already the mother of three children. +Her husband adored her, and she was very happy. I gave her good news of +Marcoline, and told the story of Croce and Charlotte's death, which +affected her to tears. + +In turn she told me about Rosalie, who was quite a rich woman. I had no +hopes of seeing her again, for she lived at Genoa, and I should not have +cared to face M. Grimaldi. + +My niece (as I once called her) mortified me unintentionally; she said I +was ageing. Though a man can easily make a jest of his advancing years, +a speech like this is not pleasant when one has not abandoned the pursuit +of pleasure. She gave me a capital dinner, and her husband made me +offers which I was ashamed to accept. I had fifty Louis, and, intending +to go on to Turin, I did not feel uneasy about the future. + +At Marseilles I met the Duc de Vilardi, who was kept alive by the art of +Tronchin. This nobleman, who was Governor of Provence, asked me to +supper, and I was surprised to meet at his house the self-styled Marquis +d'Aragon; he was engaged in holding the bank. I staked a few coins and +lost, and the marquis asked me to dine with him and his wife, an elderly +Englishwoman, who had brought him a dowry of forty thousand guineas +absolutely, with twenty thousand guineas which would ultimately go to her +son in London. I was not ashamed to borrow fifty Louis from this lucky +rascal, though I felt almost certain that I should never return the +money. + +I left Marseilles by myself, and after crossing the Alps arrived at +Turin. + +There I had a warm welcome from the Chevalier Raiberti and the Comte de +la Perouse. Both of them pronounced me to be looking older, but I +consoled myself with the thought that, after all, I was only forty-four. + +I became an intimate friend of the English ambassador, Sir N----, a rich, +accomplished and cultured man, who kept the choicest of tables. +Everybody loved him, and amongst others this feeling was warmly shared by +a Parmese girl, named Campioni, who was wonderfully beautiful. + +As soon as I had told my friends that I intended to go into Switzerland +to print at my own expense a refutation in Italian of the "History of the +Venetian Government," by Amelot de la Houssaye, they all did their best +by subscribing and obtaining subscriptions. The most generous of all was +the Comte de la Perouse, who gave me two hundred and fifty francs for +fifty copies. I left Turin in a week with two thousand lire in my purse. +With this I should be able to print the book I had composed in my prison; +but I should have to rewrite it 'ab initio', with the volume to my hand, +as also the "History of Venice," by Nani. + +When I had got these works I set out with the intention of having my book +printed at Lugano, as there was a good press there and no censure. I +also knew that the head of the press was a well-read man, and that the +place abounded in good cheer and good society. + +Lugano is near Milan, Como, and Lake Maggiore, and I was well pleased +with the situation. I went to the best inn, which was kept by a man +named Tagoretti, who gave me the best room in the house. + +The day after my arrival I called on Dr. Agnelli, who was at once +printer, priest, theologian, and an honest man. I made a regular +agreement with him, he engaging to print at the rate of four sheets a +week, and on my side I promised to pay him every week. He reserved the +right of censorship, expressing a hope that our opinions might coincide. + +I gave him the preface and the preliminary matter at once, and chose the +paper and the size, large octavo. + +When I got back to my inn the landlord told me that the bargello, or +chief constable, wanted to see me. + +Although Lugano is in Switzerland, its municipal government is modelled +after that of the Italian towns. + +I was curious to hear what this ill-omened personage could have to say to +me, so I told him to shew him in. After giving me a profound bow, with +his hat in his hand, Signor Bargello told me that he had come to offer me +his services, and to assure me that I should enjoy complete tranquillity +and safety in Lugano, whether from any enemies within the State or from +the Venetian Government, in case I had any dispute with it. + +"I thank you, signor," I replied, "and I am sure that you are telling me +the truth, as I am in Switzerland." + +"I must take the liberty of telling you, sir, that it is customary for +strangers who take up their residence in Lugano, to pay some trifling +sum, either by the week, the month, or the year." + +"And if they refuse to pay?" + +"Then their safety is not so sure." + +"Money does everything in Lugano, I suppose." + +"But, sir----" + +"I understand, but let me tell you that I have no fears, and I shall +consequently beg to be excused from paying anything." + +"You will forgive me, but I happen to know that you have some disputes +with the Venetian Government." + +"You are making a mistake, my good fellow." + +"No, I am not." + +"If you are so sure, find someone to bet me two hundred sequins that I +have reason to fear the Venetian Government; I will take the bet and +deposit the amount." + +The bargello remained silent, and the landlord told him he seemed to have +made some kind of mistake, so he went away, looking very disappointed. + +My landlord was delighted to hear that I thought of making some stay at +Lugano, and advised me to call on the high bailiff, who governed the +place. + +"He's a very nice Swiss gentleman," said he, "and his wife a clever +woman, and as fair as the day." + +"I will go and see him to-morrow." + +I sent in my name to the high bailiff at noon on the day following, and +what was my surprise to find myself in the presence of M. de R and his +charming wife. Beside her was a pretty boy, five or six years old. + +Our mutual surprise may be imagined! + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +The Punishment of Marazzani--I Leave Lugano--Turin--M. Dubois at Parma-- +Leghorn--The Duke of Orloff--Pisa--Stratico--Sienna--The Marchioness +Chigi--My Departure from Sienna With an Englishwoman + + +These unforeseen, haphazard meetings with old friends have always been +the happiest moments of my life. + +We all remained for some time dumb with delight. M. de R. was the first +to break the silence by giving me a cordial embrace. We burst out into +mutual excuses, he for having imagined that there might be other +Casanovas in Italy, and I for not having ascertained his name. He made +me take pot-luck with him the same day, and we seemed as if we had never +parted. The Republic had given him this employ--a very lucrative one-- +and he was only sorry that it would expire in two years. He told me he +was delighted to be able to be of use to me, and begged me to consider he +was wholly at my service. He was delighted to hear that I should be +engaged in seeing my work through the press for three or four months, and +seemed vexed when I told him that I could not accept his hospitality more +than once a week as my labours would be incessant. + +Madame de R---- could scarcely recover from her surprise. It was nine +years since I had seen her at Soleure, and then I thought her beauty must +be at its zenith; but I was wrong, she was still more beautiful and I +told her so. She shewed me her only child, who had been born four years +after my departure. She cherished the child as the apple of her eye, and +seemed likely to spoil it; but I heard, a few years ago, that this child +is now an amiable and accomplished man. + +In a quarter of an hour Madame de R---- informed me of all that had +happened at Soleure since my departure. Lebel had gone to Besancon, +where he lived happily with his charming wife. + +She happened to observe in a casual way that I no longer looked as young +as I had done at Soleure, and this made me regulate my conduct in a +manner I might not otherwise have done. I did not let her beauty carry +me away; I resisted the effect of her charms, and I was content to enjoy +her friendship, and to be worthy of the friendship of her good husband. + +The work on which I was engaged demanded all my care and attention, and a +love affair would have wasted most of my time. + +I began work the next morning, and save for an hour's visit from M. de +R---- I wrote on till nightfall. The next day I had the first proof- +sheet with which I was well enough pleased. + +I spent the whole of the next month in my room, working assiduously, and +only going out to mass on feast days, to dine with M. de R----, and to +walk with his wife and her child. + +At the end of a month my first volume was printed and stitched, and the +manuscript of the second volume was ready for the press. Towards the end +of October the printer sent in the entire work in three volumes, and in +less than a year the edition was sold out. + +My object was not so much to make money as to appease the wrath of the +Venetian Inquisitors; I had gone all over Europe, and experienced a +violent desire to see my native land once more. + +Amelot de la Houssaye had written his book from the point of view of an +enemy of Venice. His history was rather a satire, containing learned and +slanderous observations mingled together. It had been published for +seventy years, but hitherto no one had taken the trouble to refute it. +If a Venetian had attempted to do so he would not have obtained +permission from his Government to print it in the States of Venice, for +the State policy is to allow no one to discuss the actions of the +authorities, whether in praise or blame; consequently no writer had +attempted to refute the French history, as it was well known that the +refutation would be visited with punishment and not with reward. + +My position was an exceptional one. I had been persecuted by the +Venetian Government, so no one could accuse me of being partial; and by +my exposing the calumnies of Amelot before all Europe I hoped to gain a +reward, which after all would only be an act of justice. + +I had been an exile for fourteen years, and I thought the Inquisitors +would be glad to repair their injustice on the pretext of rewarding my +patriotism. + +My readers will see that my hopes were fulfilled, but I had to wait for +five more years instead of receiving permission to return at once. + +M. de Bragadin was dead, and Dandolo and Barbaro were the only friends I +had left at Venice; and with their aid I contrived to subscribe fifty +copies of my book in my native town. + +Throughout my stay at Lugano I only frequented the house of M. de R-----, +where I saw the Abbe Riva, a learned and discreet man, to whom I had been +commended by M. Querini, his relation. The abbe enjoyed such a +reputation for wisdom amongst his fellow-countrymen that he was a kind of +arbiter in all disputes, and thus the expenses of the law were saved. +It was no wonder that the gentlemen of the long robe hated him most +cordially. His nephew, Jean Baptiste Riva, was a friend of the Muses, of +Bacchus, and of Venus; he was also a friend of mine, though I could not +match him with the bottles. He lent me all the nymphs he had initiated +into the mysteries, and they liked him all the better, as I made them +some small presents. With him and his two pretty sisters I went to the +Borromean Isles. I knew that Count Borromeo, who had honoured me with +his friendship at Turin, was there, and from him I felt certain of a warm +welcome. One of the two sisters had to pass for Riva's wife, and the +other for his sister-in-law. + +Although the count was a ruined man he lived in his isles like a prince. + +It would be impossible to describe these Islands of the Blest; they must +be seen to be imagined. The inhabitants enjoy an everlasting spring; +there is neither heat nor cold. + +The count regaled us choicely, and amused the two girls by giving them +rods and lines and letting them fish. Although he was ugly, old, and +ruined, he still possessed the art of pleasing. + +On the way back to Lugano, as I was making place for a carriage in a +narrow road, my horse slipped and fell down a slope ten feet high. My +head went against a large stone, and I thought my last hour was come as +the blood poured out of the wound. However, I was well again in a few +days. This was my last ride on horseback. + +During my stay at Lugano the inspectors of the Swiss cantons came there +in its turn. The people dignified them with the magnificent title of +ambassadors, but M. de R---- was content to call them avoyers. + +These gentlemen stayed at my inn, and I had my meals with them throughout +their stay. + +The avoyer of Berne gave me some news of my poor friend M. F----. His +charming daughter Sara had become the wife of M, de V----, and was happy. + +A few days after these pleasant and cultured men had left, I was startled +one morning by the sudden appearance of the wretched Marazzani in my +room. I seized him by his collar, threw him out, and before he had time +to use his cane or his sword, I had kicked, beaten, and boxed him most +soundly. He defended himself to the best of his ability, and the +landlord and his men ran up at the noise, and had some difficulty in +separating us. + +"Don't let him go!" I cried, "send for the bargello and have him away to +prison." + +I dressed myself hastily, and as I was going out to see M. de R----, the +bargello met me, and asked me on what charge I gave the man into custody. + +"You will hear that at M. de R----'s, where I shall await you." + +I must now explain my anger. You may remember, reader, that I left the +wretched fellow in the prison of Buen Retiro. I heard afterwards that +the King of Spain, Jerusalem, and the Canary Islands, had given him a +small post in a galley off the coast of Africa. + +He had done me no harm, and I pitied him; but not being his intimate +friend, and having no power to mitigate the hardship of his lot, I had +well-nigh forgotten him. + +Eight months after, I met at Barcelona Madame Bellucci, a Venetian +dancer, with whom I had had a small intrigue. She gave an exclamation of +delight on seeing me, and said she was glad to see me delivered from the +hard fate to which a tyrannous Government had condemned me. + +"What fate is that?" I asked, "I have seen a good deal of misfortune +since I left you." + +"I mean the presidio." + +"But that has never been my lot, thank God! Who told you such a story?" + +"A Count Marazzani, who was here three weeks ago, and told me he had been +luckier than you, as he had made his escape." + +"He's a liar and a scoundrel; and if ever I meet him again he shall pay +me dearly." + +From that moment I never thought of the rascal without feeling a lively +desire to give him a thrashing, but I never thought that chance would +bring about so early a meeting. + +Under the circumstances I think my behaviour will be thought only +natural. I had beaten him, but that was not enough for me. I seemed to +have done nothing, and indeed, I had got as good as I gave. + +In the mean time he was in prison, and I went to M. de R---- to see what +he could do for me. + +As soon as M. de R heard my statement he said he could neither keep him +in prison nor drive him out of the town unless I laid a plea before him, +craving protection against this man, whom I believed to have come to +Lugano with the purpose of assassinating me. + +"You can make the document more effective," he added, "by placing your +actual grievance in a strong light, and laying stress on his sudden +appearance in your room without sending in his name. That's what you had +better do, and it remains to be seen how I shall answer your plea. I +shall ask him for his passport and delay the case, and order him to be +severely treated; but in the end I shall only be able to drive him out of +the town, unless he can find good bail." + +I could ask no more. I sent in my plea, and the next day I had the +pleasure of seeing him brought into the court bound hand and foot. + +M. de R began to examine him, and Marazzani swore he had no evil +intentions in calling on me. As to the calumny, he protested he had only +repeated common rumour, and professed his joy at finding it had been +mistaken. + +This ought to have been enough for me, but I continued obdurate. + +M. de R---- said the fact of my being sent to the galleys having been +rumoured was no justification for his repeating it. + +"And furthermore," he proceeded, "M. Casanova's suspicion that you were +going to assassinate him is justified by your giving a false name, for +the plaintiff maintains that you are not Count Marazzani at all. He +offers to furnish surety on this behalf, and if M. Casanova does you +wrong, his bail will escheat to you as damages. In the mean time you +will remain in prison till we have further information about your real +status." + +He was taken back, and as the poor devil had not a penny in his pocket it +would have been superfluous to tell the bargedlo to treat him severely. + +M. de R wrote to the Swiss agent at Parma to obtain the necessary +information; but as the rascal knew this would be against him, he wrote +me a humble letter, in which he confessed that he was the son of a poor +shopkeeper of Bobbio, and although his name was really Marazzani, he had +nothing to do with the Marazzanis of Plaisance. He begged me to set him +at liberty. + +I shewed the letter to M. de R----, who let him out of prison with orders +to leave Lugano in twenty-four hours. + +I thought I had been rather too harsh with him, and gave the poor devil +some money to take him to Augsburg, and also a letter for M. de +Sellentin, who was recruiting there for the Prussian king. We shall hear +of Marazzani again. + +The Chevalier de Breche came to the Lugano Fair to buy some horses, and +stopped a fortnight. I often met him at M. de R----'s, for whose wife he +had a great admiration, and I was sorry to see him go. + +I left Lugano myself a few days later, having made up my mind to winter +in Turin, where I hoped to see some pleasant society. + +Before I left I received a friendly letter from Prince Lubomirski, with a +bill for a hundred ducats, in payment of fifty copies of my book. The +prince had become lord high marshal on the death of Count Bilinski. + +When I got to Turin I found a letter from the noble Venetian M. Girolamo +Zulian, the same that had given me an introduction to Mocenigo. His +letter contained an enclosure to M. Berlendis, the representative of the +Republic at Turin, who thanked me for having enabled him to receive me. + +The ambassador, a rich man, and a great lover of the fair sex, kept up a +splendid establishment, and this was enough for his Government, for +intelligence is not considered a necessary qualification for a Venetian +ambassador. Indeed it is a positive disadvantage, and a witty ambassador +would no doubt fall into disgrace with the Venetian Senate. However, +Berlendis ran no risk whatever on this score; the realm of wit was an +unknown land to him. + +I got this ambassador to call the attention of his Government to the work +I had recently published, and the answer the State Inquisitors gave may +astonish my readers, but it did not astonish me. The secretary of the +famous and accursed Tribunal wrote to say that he had done well to call +the attention of the Inquisitors to this work, as the author's +presumption appeared on the title-page. He added that the work would be +examined, and in the mean time the ambassador was instructed to shew me +no signal marks of favour lest the Court should suppose he was protecting +me as a Venetian. + +Nevertheless, it was the same tribunal that had facilitated my access to +the ambassador to Madrid--Mocenigo. + +I told Berlendis that my visits should be limited in number, and free +from all ostentation. + +I was much interested in his son's tutor; he was a priest, a man of +letters, and a poet. His name was Andreis, and he is now resident in +England, where he enjoys full liberty, the greatest of all blessings. + +I spent my time at Turin very pleasantly, in the midst of a small circle +of Epicureans; there were the old Chevalier Raiberti, the Comte de la +Perouse, a certain Abbe Roubien, a delightful man, the voluptuous Comte +de Riva, and the English ambassador. To the amusements which this +society afforded I added a course of reading, but no love affairs +whatever. + +While I was at Turin, a milliner, Perouse's mistress, feeling herself in +'articulo mortis', swallowed the portrait of her lover instead of the +Eucharist. This incident made me compose two sonnets, which pleased me a +good deal at the time, and with which I am still satisfied. No doubt +some will say that every poet is pleased with his own handiwork, but as a +matter of fact, the severest critic of a sensible author is himself. + +The Russian squadron, under the command of Count Alexis Orloff, was then +at Leghorn; this squadron threatened Constantinople, and would probably +have taken it if an Englishman had been in command. + +As I had known Count Orloff in Russia, I imagined that I might possibly +render myself of service to him, and at the same time make my fortune. + +The English ambassador having given me a letter for the English consul, I +left Turin with very little money in my purse and no letter of credit on +any banker. + +An Englishman named Acton commended me to an English banker at Leghorn, +but this letter did not empower me to draw any supplies. + +Acton was just then involved in a curious complication. When he was at +Venice he had fallen in love with a pretty woman, either a Greek or a +Neapolitan. The husband, by birth a native of Turin, and by profession a +good-for-nothing, placed no obstacle in Acton's way, as the Englishman +was generous with his money; but he had a knack of turning up at those +moments when his absence would have been most desirable. + +The generous but proud and impatient Englishman could not be expected to +bear this for long. He consulted with the lady, and determined to shew +his teeth. The husband persisted in his untimely visits, and one day +Acton said, dryly,-- + +"Do you want a thousand guineas? You can have them if you like, on the +condition that your wife travels with me for three years without our +having the pleasure of your society." + +The husband thought the bargain a good one, and signed an agreement to +that effect. + +After the three years were over the husband wrote to his wife, who was at +Venice, to return to him, and to Acton to put no obstacle in the way. + +The lady replied that she did not want to live with him any more, and +Acton explained to the husband that he could not be expected to drive his +mistress away against her will. He foresaw, however, that the husband +would complain to the English ambassador, and determined to be before- +handed with him. + +In due course the husband did apply to the English ambassador, requesting +him to compel Acton to restore to him his lawful wife. He even asked the +Chevalier Raiberti to write to the Commendatore Camarana, the Sardinian +ambassador at Venice, to apply pressure on the Venetian Government, and +he would doubtless have succeeded if M. Raiberti had done him this +favour. However, as it was he did nothing of the sort, and even gave +Acton a warm welcome when he came to Turin to look into the matter. He +had left his mistress at Venice under the protection of the English +consul. + +The husband was ashamed to complain publicly, as he would have been +confronted with the disgraceful agreement he had signed; but Berlendis +maintained that he was in the right, and argued the question in the most +amusing manner. On the one hand he urged the sacred and inviolable +character of the marriage rite, and on the other he shewed how the wife +was bound to submit to her husband in all things. I argued the matter +with him myself, shewing him his disgraceful position in defending a man +who traded on his wife's charms, and he was obliged to give in when I +assured him that the husband had offered to renew the lease for the same +time and on the same terms as before. + +Two years later I met Acton at Bologna, and admired the beauty whom he +considered and treated as his wife. She held on her knees a fine little +Acton. + +I left Turin for Parma with a Venetian who, like myself, was an exile +from his country. He had turned actor to gain a livelihood; and was +going to Parma with two actresses, one of whom was interesting. As soon +as I found out who he was, we became friends, and he would have gladly +made me a partner in all his amusements, by the way, if I had been in the +humour to join him. + +This journey to Leghorn was undertaken under the influence of chimercial +ideas. I thought I might be useful to Count Orloff, in the conquest he +was going to make, as it was said, of Constantinople. I fancied that it +had been decreed by fate that without me he could never pass through the +Dardanelles. In spite of the wild ideas with which my mind was occupied, +I conceived a warm friendship for my travelling companion, whose name was +Angelo Bentivoglio. The Government never forgave him a certain crime, +which to the philosophic eye appears a mere trifle. In four years later, +when I describe my stay at Venice, I shall give some further account of +him. + +About noon we reached Parma, and I bade adieu to Bentivoglio and his +friends. The Court was at Colorno, but having nothing to gain from this +mockery of a court, and wishing to leave for Bologna the next morning, I +asked Dubois-Chateleraux, Chief of the Mint, and a talented though vain +man, to give me some dinner. The reader will remember that I had known +him twenty two years before, when I was in love with Henriette. He was +delighted to see me, and seemed to set great store by my politeness in +giving him the benefit of my short stay at Parma. I told him that Count +Orloff was waiting for me at Leghorn, and that I was obliged to travel +day and night. + +"He will be setting sail before long," said he; "I have advices from +Leghorn to that effect." + +I said in a mysterious tone of voice that he would not sail without me, +and I could see that my host treated me with increased respect after +this. He wanted to discuss the Russian Expedition, but my air of reserve +made him change the conversation. + +At dinner we talked a good deal about Henriette, whom he said he had +succeeded in finding out; but though he spoke of her with great respect, +I took care not to give him any information on the subject. He spent the +whole afternoon in uttering complaints against the sovereigns of Europe, +the King of Prussia excepted, as he had made him a baron, though I never +could make out why. + +He cursed the Duke of Parma who persisted in retaining his services, +although there was no mint in existence in the duchy, and his talents +were consequently wasted there. + +I listened to all his complaints, and agreed that Louis XV. had been +ungrateful in not conferring the Order of St. Michael on him; that Venice +had rewarded his services very shabbily; that Spain was stingy, and +Naples devoid of honesty, etc., etc. When he had finished, I asked him +if he could give me a bill on a banker for fifty sequins. + +He replied in the most friendly manner that he would not give me the +trouble of going to a banker for such a wretched sum as that; he would be +delighted to oblige me himself. + +I took the money promising to repay him at an early date, but I have +never been able to do so. I do not know whether he is alive or dead, but +if he were to attain the age of Methuselah I should not entertain any +hopes of paying him; for I get poorer every day, and feel that my end is +not far off. + +The next day I was in Bologna, and the day after in Florence, where I met +the Chevalier Morosini, nephew of the Venetian procurator, a young man of +nineteen, who was travelling with Count Stratico, professor of +mathematics at the University of Padua. He gave me a letter for his +brother, a Jacobin monk, and professor of literature at Pisa, where I +stopped for a couple of hours on purpose to make the celebrated monk's +acquaintance. I found him even greater than his fame, and promised to +come again to Pisa, and make a longer stay for the purpose of enjoying +his society. + +I stopped an hour at the Wells, where I made the acquaintance of the +Pretender to the throne of Great Britain, and from there went on to +Leghorn, where I found Count Orloff still waiting, but only because +contrary winds kept him from sailing. + +The English consul, with whom he was staying, introduced me at once to +the Russian admiral, who received me with expressions of delight. He +told me he would be charmed if I would come on board with him. He told +me to have my luggage taken off at once, as he would set sail with the +first fair wind. When he was gone the English consul asked me what would +be my status with the admiral. + +"That's just what I mean to find out before embarking my effects." + +"You won't be able to speak to him till to-morrow." Next morning I +called on Count Orloff, and sent him in a short note, asking him to give +me a short interview before I embarked my mails. + +An officer came out to tell me that the admiral was writing in bed, and +hoped I would wait. + +"Certainly." + +I had been waiting a few minutes, when Da Loglio, the Polish agent at +Venice and an old friend of mine, came in. + +"What are you doing here, my dear Casanova?" said he. + +"I am waiting for an interview with the admiral." + +"He is very busy." + +After this, Da Loglio coolly went into the admiral's room. This was +impertinent of him; it was as if he said in so many words that the +admiral was too busy to see me, but not too busy to see him. + +A moment after, Marquis Manucci came in with his order of St. Anne and +his formal air. He congratulated me on my visit to Leghorn, and then +said he had read my work on Venice, and had been surprised to find +himself in it. + +He had some reason for surprise, for there was no connection between him +and the subject-matter; but he should have discovered before that the +unexpected often happens. He did not give me time to tell him so, but +went into the admiral's room as Da Loglio had done. + +I was vexed to see how these gentlemen were admitted while I danced +attendance, and the project of sailing with Orloff began to displease me. + +In five hours Orloff came out followed by a numerous train. He told me +pleasantly that we could have our talk at table or after dinner. + +"After dinner, if you please," I said. + +He came in and sat down at two o'clock, and I was among the guests. + +Orloff kept on saying, "Eat away, gentlemen, eat away;" and read his +correspondence and gave his secretary letters all the time. + +After dinner he suddenly glanced up at me, and taking me by the hand led +me to the window, and told me to make haste with my luggage, as he should +sail before the morning if the wind kept up. + +"Quite so; but kindly tell me, count, what is to be my status or +employment an board your ship?" + +"At present I have no special employ to give you; that will come in time. +Come on board as my friend." + +"The offer is an honourable one so far as you are concerned, but all the +other officers might treat me with contempt. I should be regarded as a +kind of fool, and I should probably kill the first man who dared to +insult me. Give me a distinct office, and let me wear your uniform; I +will be useful to you. I know the country for which you are bound, I can +speak the language, and I am not wanting in courage." + +"My dear sir, I really have no particular office to give you." + +"Then, count, I wish you a pleasant sail; I am going to Rome. I hope you +may never repent of not taking me, for without me you will never pass the +Dardanelles." + +"Is that a prophecy?" + +"It's an oracle." + +"We will test its veracity, my dear Calchus." + +Such was the short dialogue I had with the worthy count, who, as a matter +of fact, did not pass the Dardanelles. Whether he would have succeeded +if I had been on board is more than I can say. + +Next day I delivered my letters to M. Rivarola and the English banker. +The squadron had sailed in the early morning. + +The day after I went to Pisa, and spent a pleasant week in the company of +Father Stratico, who was made a bishop two or three years after by means +of a bold stroke that might have ruined him. He delivered a funeral +oration over Father Ricci, the last general of the Jesuits. The Pope, +Ganganelli, had the choice of punishing the writer and increasing the +odium of many of the faithful, or of rewarding him handsomely. The +sovereign pontiff followed the latter course. I saw the bishop some +years later, and he told me in confidence that he had only written the +oration because he felt certain, from his knowledge of the human heart, +that his punishment would be a great reward. + +This clever monk initiated me into all the charms of Pisan society. He +had organized a little choir of ladies of rank, remarkable for their +intelligence and beauty, and had taught them to sing extempore to the +guitar. He had had them instructed by the famous Gorilla, who was +crowned poetess-laureate at the capitol by night, six years later. She +was crowned where our great Italian poets were crowned; and though her +merit was no doubt great, it was, nevertheless, more tinsel than gold, +and not of that order to place her on a par with Petrarch or Tasso. + +She was satirised most bitterly after she had received the bays; and the +satirists were even more in the wrong than the profaners of the capitol, +for all the pamphlets against her laid stress on the circumstance that +chastity, at all events, was not one of her merits. All poetesses, from +the days of Homer to our own, have sacrificed on the altar of Venus. No +one would have heard of Gorilla if she had not had the sense to choose +her lovers from the ranks of literary men; and she would never have been +crowned at Rome if she had not succeeded in gaining over Prince Gonzaga +Solferino, who married the pretty Mdlle. Rangoni, daughter of the Roman +consul, whom I knew at Marseilles, and of whom I have already spoken. + +This coronation of Gorilla is a blot on the pontificate of the present +Pope, for henceforth no man of genuine merit will accept the honour which +was once so carefully guarded by the giants of human intellect. + +Two days after the coronation Gorilla and her admirers left Rome, ashamed +of what they had done. The Abbe Pizzi, who had been the chief promoter +of her apotheosis, was so inundated with pamphlets and satires that for +some months he dared not shew his face. + +This is a long digression, and I will now return to Father Stratico, who +made the time pass so pleasantly for me. + +Though he was not a handsome man, he possessed the art of persuasion to +perfection; and he succeeded in inducing me to go to Sienna, where he +said I should enjoy myself. He gave me a letter of introduction for the +Marchioness Chigi, and also one for the Abbe Chiaccheri; and as I had +nothing better to do I went to Sienna by the shortest way, not caring to +visit Florence. + +The Abbe Chiaccheri gave me a warm welcome, and promised to do all he +could to amuse me; and he kept his word. He introduced me himself to the +Marchioness Chigi, who took me by storm as soon as she had read the +letter of the Abbe Stratico, her dear abbe, as she called him, when she +read the superscription in his writing. + +The marchioness was still handsome, though her beauty had begun to wane; +but with her the sweetness, the grace, and the ease of manner supplied +the lack of youth. She knew how to make a compliment of the slightest +expression, and was totally devoid of any affection of superiority. + +"Sit down," she began. "So you are going to stay a week, I see, from the +dear abbe's letter. That's a short time for us, but perhaps it may be +too long for you. I hope the abbe has not painted us in too rosy +colours." + +"He only told me that I was to spend a week here, and that I should find +with you all the charms of intellect and sensibility." + +"Stratico should have condemned you to a month without mercy." + +"Why mercy? What hazard do I run?" + +"Of being tired to death, or of leaving some small morsel of your heart +at Sienna." + +"All that might happen in a week, but I am ready to dare the danger, for +Stratico has guarded me from the first by counting on you, and from the +second by counting on myself. You will receive my pure and intelligent +homage. My heart will go forth from Sienna as free as it came, for I +have no hope of victory, and defeat would make me wretched." + +"Is it possible that you are amongst the despairing?" + +"Yes, and to that fact I owe my happiness." + +"It would be a pity for you if you found yourself mistaken." + +"Not such a pity as you may think, Madam. 'Carpe diem' is my motto. +'Tis likewise the motto of that finished voluptuary, Horace, but I only +take it because it suits me. The pleasure which follows desires is the +best, for it is the most acute. + +"True, but it cannot be calculated on, and defies the philosopher. May +God preserve you, madam, from finding out this painful truth by +experience! The highest good lies in enjoyment; desire too often remains +unsatisfied. If you have not yet found out the truth of Horace's maxim, +I congratulate you." + +The amiable marchioness smiled pleasantly and gave no positive answer. + +Chiaccheri now opened his mouth for the first time, and said that the +greatest happiness he could wish us was that we should never agree. The +marchioness assented, rewarding Chiaccheri with a smile, but I could not +do so. + +"I had rather contradict you," I said, "than renounce all hopes of +pleasing you. The abbe has thrown the apple of discord between us, but +if we continue as we have begun I shall take up my abode at Sienna." + +The marchioness was satisfied with the sample of her wit which she had +given me, and began to talk commonplaces, asking me if I should like to +see company and enjoy society of the fair sex. She promised to take me +everywhere. + +"Pray do not take the trouble," I replied. "I want to leave Sienna with +the feeling that you are the only lady to whom I have done homage, and +that the Abbe Chiaccheri has been my only guide." + +The marchioness was flattered, and asked the abbe and myself to dine with +her on the following day in a delightful house she had at a hundred paces +from the town. + +The older I grew the more I became attached to the intellectual charms of +women. With the sensualist, the contrary takes place; he becomes more +material in his old age: requires women well taught in Venus's shrines, +and flies from all mention of philosophy. + +As I was leaving her I told the abbe that if I stayed at Sienna I would +see no other woman but her, come what might, and he agreed that I was +very right. + +The abbe shewed me all the objects of interest in Sienna, and introduced +me to the literati, who in their turn visited me. + +The same day Chiaccheri took me to a house where the learned society +assembled. It was the residence of two sisters--the elder extremely ugly +and the younger very pretty, but the elder sister was accounted, and very +rightly, the Corinna of the place. She asked me to give her a specimen +of my skill, promising to return the compliment. I recited the first +thing that came into my head, and she replied with a few lines of +exquisite beauty. I complimented her, but Chiaccheri (who had been her +master) guessed that I did not believe her to be the author, and proposed +that we should try bouts rimes. The pretty sister gave out the rhymes, +and we all set to work. The ugly sister finished first, and when the +verses came to be read, hers were pronounced the best. I was amazed, and +made an improvisation on her skill, which I gave her in writing. In five +minutes she returned it to me; the rhymes were the same, but the turn of +the thought was much more elegant. I was still more surprised, and took +the liberty of asking her name, and found her to be the famous +"Shepherdess," Maria Fortuna, of the Academy of Arcadians. + +I had read the beautiful stanzas she had written in praise of Metastasio. +I told her so, and she brought me the poet's reply in manuscript. + +Full of admiration, I addressed myself to her alone, and all her +plainness vanished. + +I had had an agreeable conversation with the marchioness in the morning, +but in the evening I was literally in an ecstacy. + +I kept on talking of Fortuna, and asked the abbe if she could improvise +in the manner of Gorilla. He replied that she had wished to do so, but +that he had disallowed it, and he easily convinced me that this +improvisation would have been the ruin of her fine talent. I also agreed +with him when he said that he had warned her against making impromptus +too frequently, as such hasty verses are apt to sacrifice wit to rhyme. + +The honour in which improvisation was held amongst the Greeks and Romans +is due to the fact that Greek and Latin verse is not under the dominion +of rhyme. But as it was, the great poets seldom improvised; knowing as +they did that such verses were usually feeble and common-place. + +Horace often passed a whole night searching for a vigorous and elegantly- +turned phrase. When he had succeeded, he wrote the words on the wall and +went to sleep. The lines which cost him nothing are generally prosaic; +they may easily be picked out in his epistles. + +The amiable and learned Abbe Chiaccheri, confessed to me that he was in +love with his pupil, despite her ugliness. He added that he had never +expected it when he began to teach her to make verses. + +"I can't understand that," I said, "sublata lucerna', you know." + +"Not at all," said he, with a laugh, "I love her for her face, since it +is inseperable from my idea of her." + +A Tuscan has certainly more poetic riches at his disposal than any other +Italian, and the Siennese dialect is sweeter and more energetic than that +of Florence, though the latter claims the title of the classic dialect, +on account of its purity. This purity, together with its richness and +copiousness of diction it owes to the academy. From the great richness +of Italian we can treat a subject with far greater eloquence than a +French writer; Italian abounds in synonyms, while French is lamentably +deficient in this respect. Voltaire used to laugh at those who said that +the French tongue could not be charged with poverty, as it had all that +was necessary. A man may have necessaries, and yet be poor. The +obstinacy of the French academy in refusing to adopt foreign words skews +more pride than wisdom. This exclusiveness cannot last. + +As for us we take words from all languages and all sources, provided they +suit the genius of our own language. We love to see our riches increase; +we even steal from the poor, but to do so is the general characteristic +of the rich. + +The amiable marchioness gave us a delicious dinner in a house designed by +Palladio. Chiaccheri had warned me to say nothing about the Shepherdess +Fortuna; but at dinner she told him she was sure he had taken me to her +house. He had not the face to deny it, and I did not conceal the +pleasure I had received. + +"Stratico admires Fortuna," said the marchioness, "and I confess that her +writings have great merit, but it's a pity one cannot go to the house, +except under an incognito." + +"Why not?" I asked, in some astonishment. + +"What!" said she to the abbe, "you did not tell him whose house it is?" + +"I did not think it necessary, her father and mother rarely shew +themselves." + +"Well, it's of no consequence." + +"But what is her father?" I asked, "the hangman, perhaps?" + +"Worse, he's the 'bargello', and you must see that a stranger cannot be +received into good society here if he goes to such places as that." + +Chiaccheri looked rather hurt, and I thought it my duty to say that I +would not go there again till the eve of my departure. + +"I saw her sister once," said the marchioness; "she is really charmingly +pretty, and it's a great pity that with her beauty and irreproachable +morality she should be condemned to marry a man of her father's class." + +"I once knew a man named Coltellini," I replied; "he is the son of the +bargello of Florence, and is poet-inordinary to the Empress of Russia. +I shall try to make a match between him and Fortuna's sister; he is a +young man of the greatest talents." + +The marchioness thought my idea an excellent one, but soon after I heard +that Coltellini was dead. + +The 'bargello' is a cordially-detested person all over Italy, if you +except Modena, where the weak nobility make much of the 'bargello', and +do justice to his excellent table. This is a curious fact, for as a rule +these bargellos are spies, liars, traitors, cheats, and misanthropes, for +a man despised hates his despisers. + +At Sienna I was shewn a Count Piccolomini, a learned and agreeable man. +He had a strange whim, however, of spending six months in the year in the +strictest seclusion in his own house, never going out and never seeing +any company; reading and working the whole time. He certainly did his +best to make up for his hibernation during the other six months in the +year. + +The marchioness promised she would come to Rome in the course of the +summer. She had there an intimate friend in Bianconi who had abandoned +the practice of medicine, and was now the representative of the Court of +Saxony. + +On the eve of my departure, the driver who was to take me to Rome came +and asked me if I would like to take a travelling companion, and save +myself three sequins. + +"I don't want anyone." + +"You are wrong, for she is very beautiful" + +"Is she by herself?" + +"No, she is with a gentleman on horseback, who wishes to ride all the way +to Rome." + +"Then how did the girl come here?" + +"On horseback, but she is tired out, and cannot bear it any longer. The +gentleman has offered me four sequins to take her to Rome, and as I am a +poor man I think you might let me earn the money." + +"I suppose he will follow the carriage?" + +"He can go as he likes; that can't make much difference to either of us." + +"You say she is young and pretty." + +"I have been told so, but I haven't seen her myself." + +"What sort of a man is her companion?" + +"He's a fine man, but he can speak very little Italian." + +"Has he sold the lady's horse?" + +"No, it was hired. He has only one trunk, which will go behind the +carriage." + +"This is all very strange. I shall not give any decision before speaking +to this man." + +"I will tell him to wait on you." + +Directly afterwards, a brisk-looking young fellow, carrying himself well +enough, and clad in a fancy uniform, came in. He told me the tale I had +heard from the coachman, and ended by saying that he was sure I would not +refuse to accommodate his wife in my carriage. + +"Your wife, sir?" + +I saw he was a Frenchman, and I addressed him in French. + +"God be praised! You can speak my native tongue. Yes, sir, she is an +Englishwoman and my wife. I am sure she will be no trouble to you." + +"Very good. I don't want to start later than I had arranged. Will she +be ready at five o'clock?" + +"Certainly." + +The next morning when I got into my carriage, I found her already there. +I paid her some slight compliment, and sat down beside her, and we drove +off. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +Miss Betty--TheComte de L'Etoile--Sir B * * * M * * *--Reassured + + +This was the fourth adventure I had had of this kind. There is nothing +particularly out of the common in having a fellow-traveller in one's +carriage; this time, however, the affair had something decidedly romantic +about it. + +I was forty-five, and my purse contained two hundred sequins. I still +loved the fair sex, though my ardour had decreased, my experience had +ripened, and my caution increased. I was more like a heavy father than a +young lover, and I limited myself to pretensions of the most modest +character. + +The young person beside me was pretty and gentle-looking, she was neatly +though simply dressed in the English fashion, she was fair and small, and +her budding breast could be seen outlined beneath the fine muslin of her +dress. She had all the appearances of modesty and noble birth, and +something of virginal innocence, which inspired one with attachment and +respect at the same time. + +"I hope you can speak French madam?" I began. + +"Yes, and a little Italian too." + +"I congratulate myself on having you for my travelling companion." + +"I think you should congratulate me." + +"I heard you came to Sienna on horseback." + +"Yes, but I will never do such a foolish thing again." "I think your +husband would have been wise to sell his horse and buy a carriage." + +"He hired it; it does not belong to him. From Rome we are going to drive +to Naples." + +"You like travelling?" + +"Very much, but with greater comfort." + +With these words the English girl, whose white skin did not look as if it +could contain a drop of blood, blushed most violently. + +I guessed something of her secret, and begged pardon; and for more than +an hour I remain silent, pretending to gaze at the scenery, but in +reality thinking of her, for she began to inspire me with a lively +interest. + +Though the position of my young companion was more than equivocal, I +determined to see my way clearly before I took any decisive step; and I +waited patiently till we got to Bon Couvent, where we expected to dine +and meet the husband. + +We got there at ten o'clock. + +In Italy the carriages never go faster than a walk; a man on foot can +outstrip them, as they rarely exceed three miles an hour. The tedium of +a journey under such circumstances is something dreadful, and in the hot +months one has to stop five or six hours in the middle of the day to +avoid falling ill. + +My coachman said he did not want to go beyond St. Quirico, where there +was an excellent inn, that night, so he proposed waiting at Bon Couvent +till four o'clock. We had therefore six hours wherein to rest. + +The English girl was astonished at not finding her husband, and looked +for him in all directions. I noticed her, and asked the landlord what +had become of him. He informed us that he had breakfasted and baited his +horse, and had then gone on, leaving word that he would await us at St. +Quirico and order supper there. + +I thought it all very strange, but I said nothing. The poor girl begged +me to excuse her husband's behaviour. + +"He has given me a mark of his confidence, madam, and there is nothing to +be offended at." + +The landlord asked me if the vetturino paid my expenses, and I answered +in the negative; and the girl then told him to ask the vetturino if he +was paying for her. + +The man came in, and to convince the lady that providing her with meals +was not in the contract, he gave her a paper which she handed to me to +read. It was signed "Comte de l'Etoile." + +When she was alone with me my young companion begged me only to order +dinner for myself. + +I understood her delicacy, and this made her all the dearer to me. + +"Madame," said I, "you must please look upon me as an old friend. +I guess you have no money about you, and that you wish to fast from +motives of delicacy. Your husband shall repay me, if he will have it so. +If I told the landlord to only prepare dinner for myself I should be +dishonouring the count, yourself possibly, and myself most of all." + +"I feel you are right sir. Let dinner be served for two, then; but I +cannot eat, for I feel ill, and I hope you will not mind my lying on the +bed for a moment." + +"Pray do not let me disturb you. This is a pleasant room, and they can +lay the table in the next. Lie down, and sleep if you can, and I will +order dinner to be ready by two. I hope you will be feeling better by +then." + +I left her without giving her time to answer, and went to order dinner. + +I had ceased to believe the Frenchman to be the beautiful Englishwoman's +husband, and began to think I should have to fight him. + +The case, I felt certain, was one of elopement and seduction; and, +superstitious as usual, I was sure that my good genius had sent me in the +nick of time to save her and care for her, and in short to snatch her +from the hands of her infamous deceiver. + +Thus I fondled my growing passion. + +I laughed at the absurd title the rascal had given himself, and when the +thought struck me that he had possibly abandoned her to me altogether, I +made up my mind that he deserved hanging. Nevertheless, I resolved never +to leave her. + +I lay down on the bed, and as I built a thousand castles in the air I +fell asleep. + +The landlady awoke me softly, saying that three o'clock had struck. + +"Wait a moment before you bring in the dinner. I will go and see if the +lady is awake." + +I opened the door gently, and saw she was still asleep, but as I closed +the door after me the noise awoke her, and she asked if I had dined. + +"I shall not take any dinner, madam, unless you do me the honour to dine +with me. You have had a five hours' rest, and I hope you are better." + +"I will sit down with you to dinner, as you wish it." + +"That makes me happy, and I will order dinner to be served forthwith." + +She ate little, but what little she did eat was taken with a good +appetite. She was agreeably surprised to see the beefsteaks and plum +pudding, which I had ordered for her. + +When the landlady came in, she asked her if the cook was an Englishman, +and when she heard that I had given directions for the preparation of her +national dishes, she seemed full of gratitude. She cheered up, and +congratulated me on my appetite, while I encouraged her to drink some +excellent Montepulciano and Montefiascone. By dessert she was in good +spirits, while I felt rather excited. She told me, in Italian, that she +was born in London, and I thought I should have died with joy, in reply +to my question whether she knew Madame Cornelis, she replied that she had +known her daughter as they had been at school together. + +"Has Sophie grown tall?" + +"No, she is quite small, but she is very pretty, and so clever." + +"She must now be seventeen." + +"Exactly. We are of the same age." + +As she said this she blushed and lowered her eyes. + +"Are you ill?" + +"Not at all. I scarcely like to say it, but Sophie is the very image of +you." + +"Why should you hesitate to say so? It has been remarked to me before. +No doubt it is a mere coincidence. How long ago is it since you have +seen her?" + +"Eighteen months; she went back to her mother's, to be married as it was +said, but I don't know to whom." + +"Your news interests me deeply." + +The landlord brought me the bill, and I saw a note of three pains which +her husband had spent on himself and his horse. + +"He said you would pay," observed the landlord. + +The Englishwoman blushed. I paid the bill, and we went on. + +I was delighted to see her blushing, it proved she was not a party to her +husband's proceedings. + +I was burning with the desire to know how she had left London and had met +the Frenchman, and why they were going to Rome; but I did not want to +trouble her by my questions, and I loved her too well already to give her +any pain. + +We had a three hours' drive before us, so I turned the conversation to +Sophie, with whom she had been at school. + +"Was Miss Nancy Steyne there when you left?" said I. + +The reader may remember how fond I had been of this young lady, who had +dined with me, and whom I had covered with kisses, though she was only +twelve. + +My companion sighed at hearing the name of Nancy, and told me that she +had left. + +"Was she pretty when you knew her?" + +"She was a beauty, but her loveliness was a fatal gift to her. Nancy was +a close friend of mine, we loved each other tenderly; and perhaps our +sympathy arose from the similarity of the fate in store for us. Nancy, +too loving and too simple, is now, perhaps, even more unhappy than +myself." + +"More unhappy? What do you mean?" + +"Alas!" + +"Is it possible that fate has treated you harshly? Is it possible that +you can be unhappy with such a letter of commendation as nature has given +you?" + +"Alas! let us speak of something else." + +Her countenance was suffused with emotion. I pitied her in secret, and +led the conversation back to Nancy. + +"Tell me why you think Nancy is unhappy." + +"She ran away with a young man she loved; they despaired of gaining the +parents' consent to the match. Since her flight nothing has been heard +of her, and you see I have some reason to fear that she is unhappy." + +"You are right. I would willingly give my life if it could be the saving +of her." + +"Where did you know her?" + +"In my own house. She and Sophie dined with me, and her father came in +at the end of the meal." + +"Now I know who you are. How often have I heard Sophie talking of you. +Nancy loved you as well as her father. I heard that you had gone to +Russia, and had fought a duel with a general in Poland. Is this true? +How I wish I could tell dear Sophie all this, but I may not entertain +such hopes now." + +"You have heard the truth about me; but what should prevent you writing +what you like to England? I take a lively interest in you, trust in me, +and I promise you that you shall communicate with whom you please." + +"I am vastly obliged to you." + +With these words she became silent, and I left her to her thoughts. + +At seven o'clock we arrived at St. Quirico, and the so-called Comte de +l'Etoile came out and welcomed his wife in the most loving fashion, +kissing her before everybody, no doubt with the object of giving people +to understand that she was his wife, and I her father. + +The girl responded to all his caresses, looking as if a load had been +lifted off her breast, and without a word of reproach she went upstairs +with him, having apparently forgotten my existence. I set that down to +love, youth, and the forgetfulness natural to that early age. + +I went upstairs in my turn with my carpet bag, and supper was served +directly, as we had to start very early the next morning if we wished to +reach Radicofani before the noonday heat. + +We had an excellent supper, as the count had preceded us by six hours, +and the landlord had had plenty of time to make his preparations. The +English girl seemed as much in love with de l'Etoile as he with her, and +I was left completely out in the cold. I cannot describe the high +spirits, the somewhat risky sallies, and the outrageous humours of the +young gentleman; the girl laughed with all her heart, and I could not +help laughing too. + +I considered that I was present at a kind of comedy, and not a gesture, +not a word, not a laugh did I allow to escape me. + +"He may be merely a rich and feather-brained young officer," I said to +myself, "who treats everything in this farcical manner. He won't be the +first of the species I have seen. They are amusing, but frivolous, and +sometimes dangerous, wearing their honour lightly, and too apt to carry +it at the sword's point." + +On this hypothesis I was ill pleased with my position. I did not much +like his manner towards myself; he seemed to be making a dupe of me, and +behaved all the while as if he were doing me an honour. + +On the supposition that the Englishwoman was his wife, his treatment of +myself was certainly not warranted, and I was not the man to play zero. +I could not disguise the fact, however, that any onlooker would have +pronounced me to be playing an inferior part. + +There were two beds in the room where we had our supper. When the +chambermaid came to put on the sheets, I told her to give me another +room. The count politely begged me to sleep in the same room with them, +and the lady remained neutral; but I did not much care for their company, +and insisted on leaving them alone. + +I had my carpet bag taken to my room, wished them a good night and locked +myself in. My friends had only one small trunk, whence I concluded that +they had sent on their luggage by another way; but they did not even have +the trunk brought up to their room. I went to bed tranquilly, feeling +much less interested about the lady than I had been on the journey. + +I was roused early in the morning, and made a hasty toilette. I could +hear my neighbours dressing, so I half opened my door, and wished them +good day without going into their room. + +In a quarter of an hour I heard the sound of a dispute in the court-yard, +and on looking out, there were the Frenchman and the vetturino arguing +hotly. The vetturino held the horse's bridle, and the pretended count +did his best to snatch it away from him. + +I guessed the bone of contention: the Frenchman had no money, and the +vetturino asked in vain for his due. I knew that I should be drawn into +the dispute, and was making up my mind to do my duty without mercy, when +the Count de l'Etoile came in and said,-- + +"This blockhead does not understand what I say to him; but as he may have +right on his side, I must ask you to give him two sequins. I will return +you the money at Rome. By an odd chance I happen to have no money about +me, but the fellow might trust me as he has got my trunk. However, he +says he must be paid, so will you kindly oblige me? You shall hear more +of me at Rome." + +Without waiting for me to reply, the rascal went out and ran down the +stairs. The vetturino remained in the room. I put my head out of the +window, and saw him leap on horseback and gallop away. + +I sat down on my bed, and turned the scene over in my mind, rubbing my +hands gently. At last I went off into a mad roar of laughter; it struck +me as so whimsical and original an adventure. + +"Laugh too," said I to the lady, "laugh or I will never get up." + +"I agree with you that it's laughable enough, but I have not the spirit +to laugh." + +"Well, sit down at all events." + +I gave the poor devil of a vetturino two sequins, telling him that I +should like some coffee and to start in a quarter of an hour. + +I was grieved to see my companion's sadness. + +"I understand your grief," said I, "but you must try to overcome it. I +have only one favour to ask of you, and if you refuse to grant me that, I +shall be as sad as you, so we shall be rather a melancholy couple." + +"What can I do for you?" + +"You can tell me on your word of honour whether that extraordinary +character is your husband, or only your lover." + +"I will tell you the simple truth; he is not my husband, but we are going +to be married at Rome." + +"I breathe again. He never shall be your husband, and so much the better +for you. He has seduced you, and you love him, but you will soon get +over that." + +"Never, unless he deceives me." + +"He has deceived you already. I am sure he has told you that he is rich, +that he is a man of rank, and that he will make you happy; and all that +is a lie." + +"How can you know all this?" + +"Experience--experience is my great teacher. Your lover is a young +feather-brain, a man of no worth. He might possibly marry you, but it +would be only to support himself by the sale of your charms." + +"He loves me; I am sure of it." + +"Yes, he loves you, but not with the love of a man of honour. Without +knowing my name, or my character, or anything about me, he delivered you +over to my tender mercies. A man of any delicacy would never abandon his +loved one thus." + +"He is not jealous. You know Frenchmen are not." + +"A man of honour is the same in France, and England, and Italy, and all +the world over. If he loved you, would he have left you penniless in +this fashion? What would you do, if I were inclined to play the brutal +lover? You may speak freely." + +"I should defend myself." + +"Very good; then I should abandon you here, and what would you do then? +You are pretty, you are a woman of sensibility, but many men would take +but little account of your virtue. Your lover has left you to me; for +all he knew I might be the vilest wretch; but as it is, cheer up, you +have nothing to fear. + +"How can you think that adventurer loves you? He is a mere monster. I +am sorry that what I say makes you weep, but it must be said. I even +dare tell you that I have taken a great liking to you; but you may feel +quite sure that I shall not ask you to give me so much as a kiss, and I +will never abandon you. Before we get to Rome I shall convince you that +the count, as he calls himself, not only does not love you, but is a +common swindler as well as a deceiver." + +"You will convince me of that?" + +"Yes, on my word of honour! Dry your eyes, and let us try to make this +day pass as pleasantly as yesterday. You cannot imagine how glad I feel +that chance has constituted me your protector. I want you to feel +assured of my friendship, and if you do not give me a little love in +return, I will try and bear it patiently." + +The landlord came in and brought the bill for the count and his mistress +as well as for myself. I had expected this, and paid it without a word, +and without looking at the poor wandering sheep beside me. I recollected +that too strong medicines kill, and do not cure, and I was afraid I had +said almost too much. + +I longed to know her history, and felt sure I should hear it before we +reached Rome. We took some coffee and departed, and not a word passed +between us till we got to the inn at La Scala, where we got down. + +The road from La Scala to Radicofani is steep and troublesome. The +vetturino would require an extra horse, and even then would have taken +four hours. I decided, therefore, to take two post horses, and not to +begin the journey till ten o'clock. + +"Would it not be better to go on now?" said the English girl; "it will be +very hot from ten till noon." + +"Yes, but the Comte de l'Ltoile, whom we should be sure to meet at +Radicofani, would not like to see me." + +"Why not? I am sure he would." + +If I had told her my reason she would have wept anew, so in pity I spared +her. I saw that she was blinded by love, and could not see the true +character of her lover. It would be impossible to cure her by gentle and +persuasive argument; I must speak sharply, the wound must be subjected to +the actual cautery. But was virtue the cause of all this interest? Was +it devotion to a young and innocent girl that made me willing to +undertake so difficult and so delicate a task? Doubtless these motives +went for something, but I will not attempt to strut in borrowed plumes, +and must freely confess that if she had been ugly and stupid I should +probably have left her to her fate. In short, selfishness was at the +bottom of it all, so let us say no more about virtue. + +My true aim was to snatch this delicate morsel from another's hand that I +might enjoy it myself. I did not confess as much to myself, for I could +never bear to calmly view my own failings, but afterwards I came to the +conclusion that I acted a part throughout. Is selfishness, then, the +universal motor of our actions? I am afraid it is. + +I made Betty (such was her name) take a country walk with me, and the +scenery there is so beautiful that no poet nor painter could imagine a +more delicious prospect. Betty spoke Tuscan with English idioms and an +English accent, but her voice was so silvery and clear that her Italian +was delightful to listen to. I longed to kiss her lips as they spoke so +sweetly, but I respected her and restrained myself. + +We were walking along engaged in agreeable converse, when all at once we +heard the church bells peal out. Betty said she had never seen a +Catholic service, and I was glad to give her that pleasure. It was the +feast day of some local saint, and Betty assisted at high mass with all +propriety, imitating the gestures of the people, so that no one would +have taken her for a Protestant. After it was over, she said she thought +the Catholic rite was much more adapted to the needs of loving souls than +the Angelican. She was astonished at the southern beauty of the village +girls, whom she pronounced to be much handsomer that the country lasses +in England. She asked me the time, and I replied without thinking that I +wondered she had not got a watch. She blushed and said the count had +asked her to give it him to leave in pawn for the horse he hired. + +I was sorry for what I had said, for I had put Betty, who was incapable +of a lie, to great pain. + +We started at ten o'clock with three horses, and as a cool wind was +blowing we had a pleasant drive, arriving at Radicofani at noon. + +The landlord, who was also the postmaster, asked if I would pay three +pauls which the Frenchman had expended for his horse and himself, +assuring the landlord that his friend would pay. + +For Betty's sake I said I would pay; but this was not all. + +"The gentleman," added the man, "has beaten three of my postillions with +his naked sword. One of them was wounded in the face, and he has +followed his assailant, and will make him pay dearly for it. The reason +of the assault was that they wanted to detain him till he had paid." + +"You were wrong to allow violence to be used; he does not look like a +thief, and you might have taken it for granted that I should pay." + +"You are mistaken; I was not obliged to take anything of the sort for +granted; I have been cheated in this sort many times before. Your dinner +is ready if you want any." + +Poor Betty was in despair. She observed a distressed silence; and I +tried to raise her spirits, and to make her eat a good dinner, and to +taste the excellent Muscat, of which the host had provided an enormous +flask. + +All my efforts were in vain, so I called the vetturino to tell him that I +wanted to start directly after dinner. This order acted on Betty like +magic. + +"You mean to go as far as Centino, I suppose," said the man. "We had +better wait there till the heat is over." + +"No, we must push on, as the lady's husband may be in need of help. The +wounded postillion has followed him; and as he speaks Italian very +imperfectly, there's no knowing what may happen to him." + +"Very good; we will go off." + +Betty looked at me with the utmost gratitude; and by way of proving it, +she pretended to have a good appetite. She had noticed that this was a +certain way of pleasing me. + +While we were at dinner I ordered up one of the beaten postillions, and +heard his story. He was a frank rogue; he said he had received some +blows with the flat of the sword, but he boasted of having sent a stone +after the Frenchman which must have made an impression on him. + +I gave him a Paul, and promised to make it a crown if he would go to +Centino to bear witness against his comrade, and he immediately began to +speak up for the count, much to Betty's amusement. He said the man's +wound in the face was a mere scratch, and that he had brought it on +himself, as he had no business to oppose a traveller as he had done. By +way of comfort he told us that the Frenchman had only been hit by two or +three stones. Betty did not find this very consoling, but I saw that the +affair was more comic than tragic, and would end in nothing. The +postillion went off, and we followed him in half an hour. + +Betty was tranquil enough till we got there, and heard that the count had +gone on to Acquapendente with the two postillions at his heels; she +seemed quite vexed. I told her that all would be well; that the count +knew how to defend himself; but she only answered me with a deep sigh. + +I suspected that she was afraid we should have to pass the night +together, and that I would demand some payment for all the trouble I had +taken. + +"Would you like us to go on to Acquapendente?" I asked her. + +At this question her face beamed all over; she opened her arms, and I +embraced her. + +I called the vetturino, and told him. I wanted to go on to Acquapendente +immediately. + +The fellow replied that his horses were in the stable, and that he was +not going to put them in; but that I could have post horses if I liked. + +"Very good. Get me two horses immediately." + +It is my belief that, if I had liked, Betty would have given me +everything at that moment, for she let herself fall into my arms. I +pressed her tenderly and kissed her, and that was all She seemed grateful +for my self-restraint. + +The horses were put in, and after I had paid the landlord for the supper, +which he swore he had prepared for us, we started. + +We reached Acquapendente in three quarters of an hour, and we found the +madcap count in high spirits. He embraced his Dulcinea with transports, +and Betty seemed delighted to find him safe and sound. He told us +triumphantly that he had beaten the rascally postillions, and had warded +their stones off. + +"Where's the slashed postillion?" I asked. + +"He is drinking to my health with his comrade; they have both begged my +pardon." + +"Yes," said Betty, "this gentleman gave him a crown." + +"What a pity! You shouldn't have given them anything." + +Before supper the Comte de l'Etoile skewed us the bruises on his thighs +and side; the rascal was a fine well-made fellow. However, Betty's +adoring airs irritated me, though I was consoled at the thought of the +earnest I had received from her. + +Next day, the impudent fellow told me that he would order us a good +supper at Viterbo, and that of course I would lend him a sequin to pay +for his dinner at Montefiascone. So saying, he skewed me in an off-hand +way a bill of exchange on Rome for three thousand crowns. + +I did not trouble to read it, and gave him the sequin, though I felt sure +I should never see it again. + +Betty now treated me quite confidentially, and I felt I might ask her +almost any questions. + +When we were at Montefiascone she said,-- + +"You see my lover is only without money by chance; he has a bill of +exchange for a large amount." + +"I believe it to be a forgery." + +"You are really too cruel." + +"Not at all; I only wish I were mistaken, but I am sure of the contrary. +Twenty years ago I should have taken it for a good one, but now it's +another thing, and if the bill is a good one, why did he not negotiate it +at Sienna, Florence, or Leghorn?" + +"It may be that be had not the time; he was in such a hurry to be gone. +Ah! if you knew all!" + +"I only want to know what you like to tell me, but I warn you again that +what I say is no vague suspicion but hard fact." + +"Then you persist in the idea that he does not love me." + +"Nay, he loves you, but in such a fashion as to deserve hatred in +return." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Would you not hate a man who loved you only to traffic in your charms?" + +"I should be sorry for you to think that of him." + +"If you like, I will convince you of what I say this evening." + +"You will oblige me; but I must have some positive proof. It would be a +sore pain to me, but also a true service." + +"And when you are convinced, will you cease to love him?" + +"Certainly; if you prove him to be dishonest, my love will vanish away." + +"You are mistaken; you will still love him, even when you have had proof +positive of his wickedness. He has evidently fascinated you in a deadly +manner, or you would see his character in its true light before this." + +"All this may be true; but do you give me your proofs, and leave to me +the care of shewing that I despise him." + +"I will prove my assertions this evening; but tell me how long you have +known him?" + +"About a month; but we have only been together for five days." + +"And before that time you never accorded him any favours?" + +"Not a single kiss. He was always under my windows, and I had reason to +believe that he loved me fondly." + +"Oh, yes! he loves you, who would not? but his love is not that of a man +of honour, but that of an impudent profligate." + +"But how can you suspect a man of whom you know nothing?" + +"Would that I did not know him! I feel sure that not being able to visit +you, he made you visit him, and then persuaded you to fly with him." + +"Yes, he did. He wrote me a letter, which I will shew you. He promises +to marry me at Rome." + +"And who is to answer for his constancy?" + +"His love is my surety." + +"Do you fear pursuit?" + +"No." + +"Did he take you from a father, a lover, or a brother?" + +"From a lover, who will not be back at Leghorn for a week or ten days." + +"Where has he gone?" + +"To London on business; I was under the charge of a woman whom he +trusted." + +"That's enough; I pity you, my poor Betty. Tell me if you love your +Englishman, and if he is worthy of your love." + +"Alas! I loved him dearly till I saw this Frenchman, who made me +unfaithful to a man I adored. He will be in despair at not finding me +when he returns." + +"Is he rich?" + +"Not very; he is a business man, and is comfortably off." + +"Is he young?" + +"No. He is a man of your age, and a thoroughly kind and honest person. +He was waiting for his comsumptive wife to die to marry me." + +"Poor man! Have you presented him with a child?" + +"No. I am sure God did not mean me for him, for the count has conquered +me completely." + +"Everyone whom love leads astray says the same thing." + +"Now you have heard everything, and I am glad I told you, for I am sure +you are my friend." + +"I will be a better friend to you, dear Betty, in the future than in the +past. You will need my services, and I promise not to abandon you. I +love you, as I have said; but so long as you continue to love the +Frenchman I shall only ask you to consider me as your friend." + +"I accept your promise, and in return I promise not to hide anything from +you." + +"Tell me why you have no luggage." + +"I escaped on horseback, but my trunk, which is full of linen and other +effects, will be at Rome two days after us. I sent it off the day before +my escape, and the man who received it was sent by the count." + +"Then good-bye to your trunk!" + +"Why, you foresee nothing but misfortune!" + +"Well, dear Betty, I only wish my prophecies may not be accomplished. +Although you escaped on horseback I think you should have brought a cloak +and a carpet bag with some linen." + +"All that is in the small trunk; I shall have it taken into my room +tonight." + +We reached Viterbo at seven o'clock, and found the count very cheerful. + +In accordance with the plot I had laid against the count, I began by +shewing myself demonstratively fond of Betty, envying the fortunate +lover, praising his heroic behaviour in leaving her to me, and so forth. + +The silly fellow proceeded to back me up in my extravagant admiration. +He boasted that jealousy was utterly foreign to his character, and +maintained that the true lover would accustom himself to see his mistress +inspire desires in other men. + +He proceeded to make a long dissertation on this theme, and I let him go +on, for I was waiting till after supper to come to the conclusive point. + +During the meal I made him drink, and applauded his freedom from vulgar +prejudices. At dessert he enlarged on the duty of reciprocity between +lovers. + +"Thus," he remarked, "Betty ought to procure me the enjoyment of Fanny, +if she has reason to think I have taken a fancy to her; and per contra, +as I adore Betty, if I found that she loved you I should procure her the +pleasure of sleeping with you." + +Betty listened to all this nonsense in silent astonishment. + +"I confess, my dear count," I replied, "that, theoretically speaking, +your system strikes me as sublime, and calculated to bring about the +return of the Golden Age; but I am afraid it would prove absurd in +practice. No doubt you are a man of courage, but I am sure you would +never let your mistress be enjoyed by another man. Here are twenty-five +sequins. I will wager that amount that you will not allow me to sleep +with your wife." + +"Ha! ha! You are mistaken in me, I assure you. I'll bet fifty sequins +that I will remain in the room a calm spectator of your exploits. My +dear Betty, we must punish this sceptic; go to bed with him." + +"You are joking." + +"Not at all; to bed with you, I shall love you all the more." + +"You must be crazy, I shall do nothing of the kind." + +The count took her in his arms, and caressing her in the tenderest manner +begged her to do him this favour, not so much for the twenty-five Louis, +as to convince me that he was above vulgar prejudices. His caresses +became rather free, but Betty repulsed him gently though firmly, saying +that she would never consent, and that he had already won the bet, which +was the case; in fine the poor girl besought him to kill her rather than +oblige her to do a deed which she thought infamous. + +Her words, and the pathetic voice with which they were uttered, should +have shamed him, but they only put him into a furious rage. He repulsed +her, calling her the vilest names, and finally telling her that she was +a hypocrite, and he felt certain she had already granted me all a +worthless girl could grant. + +Betty grew pale as death, and furious in my turn, I ran for my sword. I +should probably have run him through, if the infamous scoundrel had not +fled into the next room, where he locked himself in. + +I was in despair at seeing Betty's distress, of which I had been the +innocent cause, and I did my best to soothe her. + +She was in an alarming state. Her breath came with difficulty, her eyes +seemed ready to start out of her head, her lips were bloodless and +trembling, and her teeth shut tight together. Everyone in the inn was +asleep. I could not call for help, and all I could do was to dash water +in her face, and speak soothing words. + +At last she fell asleep, and I remained beside her for more than two +hours, attentive to her least movements, and hoping that she would awake +strengthened and refreshed. + +At day-break I heard l'Etoile going off, and I was glad of it. The +people of the inn knocked at our door, and then Betty awoke. + +"Are you ready to go, my dear Betty?" + +"I am much better, but I should so like a cup of tea." + +The Italians cannot make tea, so I took what she gave me, and went to +prepare it myself. + +When I came back I found her inhaling the fresh morning air at the +window. She seemed calm, and I hoped I had cured her. She drank a few +cups of tea (of which beverage the English are very fond), and soon +regained her good looks. + +She heard some people in the room where we had supped, and asked me if I +had taken up the purse which I had placed on the table. I had forgotten +it completely. + +I found my purse and a piece of paper bearing the words, "bill of +exchange for three thousand crowns." The impostor had taken it out of +his pocket in making his bet, and had forgotten it. It was dated at +Bordeaux, drawn on a wine merchant at Paris to l'Etoile's order. It was +payable at sight, and was for six months. The whole thing was utterly +irregular. + +I took it to Betty, who told me she knew nothing about bills, and begged +me to say nothing more about that infamous fellow. She then said, in a +voice of which I can give no idea,-- + +"For pity's sake do not abandon a poor girl, more worthy of compassion +than blame!" + +I promised her again to have all a father's care for her, and soon after +we proceeded on our journey. + +The poor girl fell asleep, and I followed her example. We were awoke by +the vetturino who informed us, greatly to our astonishment, that we were +at Monterosi. We had slept for six hours, and had done eighteen miles. + +We had to stay at Monterosi till four o'clock, and we were glad of it, +for we needed time for reflection. + +In the first place I asked about the wretched deceiver, and was told that +he had made a slight meal, paid for it, and said he was going to spend +the night at La Storta. + +We made a good dinner, and Betty plucking up a spirit said we must +consider the case of her infamous betrayer, but for the last time. + +"Be a father to me," said she; "do not advise but command; you may reckon +on my obedience. I have no need to give you any further particulars, for +you have guessed all except the horror with which the thought of my +betrayer now inspires me. If it had not been for you, he would have +plunged me into an abyss of shame and misery." + +"Can you reckon on the Englishman forgiving you?" + +"I think so." + +"Then we must go back to Leghorn. Are you strong enough to follow this +counsel? I warn you that if you approve of it, it must be put into +execution at once. Young, pretty, and virtuous as you are, you need not +imagine that I shall allow you to go by yourself, or in the company of +strangers. If you think I love you, and find me worthy of your esteem, +that is sufficient regard for me. I will live with you like a father, if +you are not in a position to give me marks of a more ardent affection. +Be sure I will keep faith with you, for I want to redeem your opinion of +men, and to shew you that there are men as honourable as your seducer was +vile." + +Betty remained for a quarter of an hour in profound silence, her head +resting on her elbows, and her eyes fixed on mine. She did not seem +either angry or astonished, but as far as I could judge was lost in +thought. I was glad to see her reflective, for thus she would be able to +give me a decided answer: At last she said: + +"You need not think, my dear friend, that my silence proceeds from +irresolution. If my mind were not made up already I should despise +myself. I am wise enough at any rate to appreciate the wisdom of your +generous counsels. I thank Providence that I have fallen into the hands +of such a man who will treat me as if I were his daughter." + +"Then we will go back to Leghorn, and start immediately." + +"My only doubt is how to manage my reconcilliation with Sir B---- M----. +I have no doubt he will pardon me eventually; but though he is tender and +good-hearted he is delicate where a point of honour is concerned, and +Subject to sudden fits of violence. This is what I want to avoid; for he +might possibly kill me, and then I should be the cause of his ruin." + +"You must consider it on the way, and tell me any plans you may think +of." + +"He is an intelligent man, and it would be hopeless to endeavour to dupe +him by a lie. I must make a full confession in writing without hiding a +single circumstance; for if he thought he was being duped his fury would +be terrible. If you will write to him you must not say that you think me +worthy of forgiveness; you must tell him the facts and leave him to judge +for himself. He will be convinced of my repentance when he reads the +letter I shall bedew with my tears, but he must not know of my +whereabouts till he has promised to forgive me. He is a slave to his +word of honour, and we shall live together all our days without my ever +hearing of this slip. I am only sorry that I have behaved so foolishly." + +"You must not be offended if I ask you whether you have ever given him +like cause for complaint before." + +"Never." + +"What is his history?" + +"He lived very unhappily with his first wife; and he was divorced from +his second wife for sufficient reasons. Two years ago he came to our +school with Nancy's father, and made my acquaintance. My father died, +his creditors seized everything, and I had to leave the school, much to +Nancy's distress and that of the other pupils. At this period Sir B---- +M---- took charge of me, and gave me a sum which placed me beyond the +reach of, want for the rest of my days. I was grateful, and begged him +to take me with him when he told me he was leaving England. He was +astonished; and, like a man of honour, said he loved me too well to +flatter himself that we could travel together without his entertaining +more ardent feelings for me than those of a father. He thought it out of +the question for me to love him, save as a daughter. + +"This declaration, as you may imagine, paved the way for a full +agreement." + +"'However you love me,' I said, 'I shall be well pleased, and if I can do +anything for you I shall be all the happier.' + +"He then gave me of his own free will a written promise to marry me on +the death of his wife. We started on our travels, and till my late +unhappy connection I never gave him the slightest cause for complaint." + +"Dry your eyes, dear Betty, he is sure to forgive you. I have friends at +Leghorn, and no one shall find out that we have made acquaintance. I +will put you in good hands, and I shall not leave the town till I hear +you are back with Sir B---- M-----. If he prove inexorable I promise +never to abandon you, and to take you back to England if you like." + +"But how can you spare the time?" + +"I will tell you the truth, my dear Betty. I have nothing particular to +do at Rome, or anywhere else. London and Rome are alike to me." + +"How can I shew my gratitude to you?" + +I summoned the vetturino, and told him we must return to Viterbo. He +objected, but I convinced him with a couple of piastres, and by agreeing +to use the post horses and to spare his own animals. + +We got to Viterbo by seven o'clock, and asked anxiously if no one had +found a pocket-book which I pretended I had lost. I was told no such +thing had been found, so I ordered supper with calmness, although +bewailing my loss. I told Betty that I acted in this sort to obviate any +difficulties which the vetturino might make about taking us back to +Sienna, as he might feel it his duty to place her in the hands of her +supposed husband. I had up the small trunk, and after we had forced the +lock Betty took out her cloak and the few effects she had in it, and we +then inspected the adventurer's properties, most likely all he possessed +in the world. A few tattered shirts, two or three pairs of mended silk +stockings, a pair of breeches, a hare's foot, a pot of grease, and a +score of little books-plays or comic operas, and lastly a packet of +letters; such were the contents of the trunk. + +We proceeded to read the letters, and the first thing we noted was the +address: "To M. L'Etoile, Actor, at Marseilles, Bordeaux, Bayonne, +Montpellier, etc." + +I pitied Betty. She saw herself the dupe of a vile actor, and her +indignation and shame were great. + +"We will read it all to-morrow," said I; "to-day we have something else +to do." + +The poor girl seemed to breathe again. + +We got over our supper hastily, and then Betty begged me to leave her +alone for a few moments for her to change her linen and go to bed. + +"If you like," said I, "I will have a bed made up for me in the next +room." + +"No, dear friend, ought I not to love your society? What would have +become of me without you?" + +I went out for a few minutes, and when I returned and came to her bedside +to wish her good night, she gave me such a warm embrace that I knew my +hour was come. + +Reader, you must take the rest for granted. I was happy, and I had +reason to believe that Betty was happy also. + +In the morning, we had just fallen asleep, when the vettuyino knocked at +the door. + +I dressed myself hastily to see him. + +"Listen," I said, "it is absolutely necessary for me to recover my +pocket-book, and I hope to find it at Acquapendente." + +"Very good, sir, very good," said the rogue, a true Italian, "pay me as +if I had taken you to Rome, and a sequin a day for the future, and if you +like, I will take you to England on those terms." + +The vetturino was evidently what is called wide awake. I gave him his +money, and we made a new agreement. At seven o'clock we stopped at +Montefiascone to write to Sir B---- M---- , she in English, and I in +French. + +Betty had now an air of satisfaction and assurance which I found +charming. She said she was full of hope, and seemed highly amused at the +thought of the figure which the actor would cut when he arrived at Rome +by himself. She hoped that we should come across the man in charge of +her trunk, and that we should have no difficulty in getting it back. + +"He might pursue us." + +"He dare not do so." + +"I expect not, but if he does I will give him a warm welcome. If he does +not take himself off I will blow out his brains." + +Before I began my letter to Sir B---- M----. Betty again warned me to +conceal nothing from him. + +"Not even the reward you gave me?" + +"Oh, yes! That is a little secret between ourselves." + +In less than three hours the letters were composed and written. Betty +was satisfied with my letter; and her own, which she translated for my +benefit, was a perfect masterpiece of sensibility, which seemed to me +certain of success. + +I thought of posting from Sienna, to ensure her being in a place of +safety before the arrival of her lover. + +The only thing that troubled me was the bill of exchange left behind by +l'Etoile, for whether it were true or false, I felt bound to deal with it +in some way, but I could not see how it was to be done. + +We set out again after dinner in spite of the heat, and arrived at +Acquapendente in the evening and spent the night in the delights of +mutual love. + +As I was getting up in the morning I saw a carriage in front of the inn, +just starting for Rome. I imagined that amidst the baggage Betty's trunk +might be discovered, and I told her to get up, and see if it were there. +We went down, and Betty recognized the trunk she had confided to her +seducer. + +We begged the vetturino to restore it to us, but he was inflexible; and +as he was in the right we had to submit. The only thing he could do was +to have an embargo laid on the trunk at Rome, the said embargo to last +for a month. A notary was called, and our claim properly drawn up. The +vetturino, who seemed an honest and intelligent fellow, assured us he had +received nothing else belonging to the Comte de l'Etoile, so we were +assured that the actor was a mere beggar on the lookout for pickings, and +that the rags in the small trunk were all his possessions. + +After this business had been dispatched Betty brightened up amazingly. + +"Heaven," she exclaimed, "is arranging everything. My mistake will serve +as a warning to me for the future, for the lesson has been a severe one, +and might have been much worse if I had not had the good fortune of +meeting you." + +"I congratulate you," I replied, "on having cured yourself so quickly of +a passion that had deprived you of your reason." + +"Ah! a woman's reason is a fragile thing. I shudder when I think of the +monster; but I verily believe that I should not have regained my senses +if he had not called me a hypocrite, and said that he was certain I had +already granted you my favours. These infamous words opened my eyes, and +made me see my shame. I believe I would have helped you to pierce him to +the heart if the coward had not run away. But I am glad he did run away, +not for his sake but for ours, for we should have been in an unpleasant +position if he had been killed." + +"You are right; he escaped my sword because he is destined for the rope." + +"Let him look to that himself, but I am sure he will never dare to shew +his face before you or me again." + +We reached Radicofani at ten o'clock, and proceeded to write postscripts +to our letters to Sir B---- M---- We were sitting at the same table, +Betty opposite to the door and I close to it, so that anyone coming in +could not have seen me without turning round. + +Betty was dressed with all decency and neatness, but I had taken off my +coat on account of the suffocating heat. Nevertheless, though I was in +shirt sleeves, I should not have been ashamed of my attire before the +most respectable woman in Italy. + +All at once I heard a rapid step coming along the passage, and the door +was dashed open. A furious-looking man came in, and, seeing Betty, cried +out,-- + +"Ah! there you are." + +I did not give him time to turn round and see me, but leapt upon him and +seized him by the shoulders. If I had not done so he would have shot me +dead on the spot. + +As I leapt upon him I had involuntarily closed the door, and as he cried, +"Let me go, traitor!" Betty fell on her knees before him, exclaiming, +"No, no! he is my preserver." + +Sir B---- M---- was too mad with rage to pay any attention to her, +and kept on,--- + +"Let me go, traitors" + +As may be imagined, I did not pay much attention to this request so long +as the loaded pistol was in his hand. + +In our struggles he at last fell to the ground and I on top of him. +The landlord and his people had heard the uproar, and were trying to get +in; but as we had fallen against the door they could not do so. + +Betty had the presence of mind to snatch the pistol from his hand, and I +then let him go, calmly observing, + +"Sir, you are labouring under a delusion." + +Again Betty threw herself on her knees, begging him to calm himself, as I +was her preserver not her betrayer. + +"What do you mean by 'preserver'?" said B---- M---- + +Betty gave him the letter, saying,-- + +"Read that." + +The Englishman read the letter through without rising from the ground, +and as I was certain of its effect I opened the door and told the +landlord to send his people away, and to get dinner for three, as +everything had been settled. + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of MEMOIRES OF JACQUES CASANOVA +SPANISH PASSIONS, Vol. 6b, EXPELLED FROM SPAIN +by Jacques Casanova de Seingalt + |