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diff --git a/39306-h/39306-h.htm b/39306-h/39306-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c1a6c0 --- /dev/null +++ b/39306-h/39306-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,28837 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt 1725-1798 + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Memoires of Casanova, by +Jacques Casanova de Seingalt + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Memoires of Casanova + The Rare Unabridged London Edition Of 1894, plus An + Unpublished Chapter of History, By Arthur Symons + +Author: Jacques Casanova de Seingalt + +Translator: Arthur Machen + +Release Date: November 2, 2006 [EBook #39306] +Last Updated: December 15, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEMOIRES OF CASANOVA *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + <h1> + THE MEMOIRS + </h1> + <br /> + <h3> + OF + </h3> + <br /> + <h1> + JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT <br /> <br /> 1725-1798 + </h1> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="spines (178K)" src="images/spines.jpg" width="100%" /> + </div> + <br /> + <h3> + THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR MACHEN TO + WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED BY ARTHUR SYMONS. + </h3> + <br /><br /> + <hr /> + <div class="tr"> + [Transcriber’s Note: These memoires were not written for children, they + may outrage readers also offended by Chaucer, La Fontaine, Rabelais and + The Old Testament. D.W.] + </div> + + <br /> <br /> + <hr /> + <br /> <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <br /> + + + <br /> <a href="images/cover6.jpg">ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE</a> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/cover6th.jpg" width="100%" alt="Bookcover 6 " /> + </div> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0001"> <big><b>VOLUME 6 — SPANISH PASSIONS</b></big> + </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0002"> <b>EPISODE 26 — SPAIN</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0009"> <b>EPISODE 27 — EXPELLED FROM SPAIN</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0016"> <b>EPISODE 28 — RETURN TO ROME</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0022"> <b>EPISODE 29 — FLORENCE TO TRIESTE</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0028"> <b>EPISODE 30 — OLD AGE AND DEATH OF + CASANOVA</b> </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_APPE"> <b>APPENDIX AND SUPPLEMENT</b> </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_PART"> <b>PART THE FIRST — VENICE 1774-1782</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0031"> I — CASANOVA’S RETURN TO VENICE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0032"> II — RELATIONS WITH THE INQUISITORS + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0033"> III — FRANCESCA BUSCHINI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0034"> IV — PUBLICATIONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkmlle"> V — MLLE—— X—— . . . C—— . . . V——. . . </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0035"> VI — LAST DAYS AT VENICE </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_PART2"> <b>PART THE SECOND — VIENNA-PARIS</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0037"> I — 1783-1785 </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0038"> II — PARIS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0039"> III — VIENNA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0040"> IV — LETTERS FROM FRANCESCA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0041"> V — LAST DAYS AT VIENNA </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_PART3"> <b>PART THE THIRD — DUX — 1786-1798</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0043"> I — THE CASTLE AT DUX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0044"> II — LETTERS FROM FRANCESCA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0045"> III — CORRESPONDENCE AND ACTIVITIES + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0046"> IV — CORRESPONDENCE WITH JEAN-FERDINAND + OPIZ </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0047"> V — PUBLICATIONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0048"> VI — SUMMARY of MY LIFE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkF2H_4_0049"> VII — LAST DAYS AT DUX </a> + </p> + + <br /> <br /> + <hr /> + <br /> <br /> <a name="linkF2H_4_0001" id="linkF2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + VOLUME 6 — SPANISH PASSIONS, + </h1> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0002" id="linkF2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <a name="linkepisode26" id="linkepisode26"></a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EPISODE 26 — SPAIN + </h2> + <a name="linkF2HCH0001" id="linkF2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I Am Ordered to Leave Vienna—The Empress Moderates but Does + Not Annul the Order—Zavoiski at Munich—My Stay at + Augsburg—Gasconnade at Louisburg—The Cologne Newspaper— + My Arrival at Aix-la-Chapelle +</pre> + <p> + The greatest mistake a man that punishes a knave can commit is to leave + the said rogue alive, for he is certain to take vengeance. If I had had my + sword in the den of thieves, I should no doubt have defended myself, but + it would have gone ill with me, three against one, and I should probably + have been cut to pieces, while the murderers would have escaped + unpunished. + </p> + <p> + At eight o’clock Campioni came to see me in my bed, and was astonished at + my adventure. Without troubling himself to compassionate me, we both began + to think how we could get back my purse; but we came to the conclusion + that it would be impossible, as I had nothing more than my mere assertion + to prove the case. In spite of that, however, I wrote out the whole story, + beginning with the girl who recited the Latin verses. I intended to bring + the document before the police; however, I had not time to do so. + </p> + <p> + I was just sitting down to dinner, when an agent of the police came and + gave me an order to go and speak to Count Schrotembach, the Statthalter. I + told him to instruct my coachman, who was waiting at the door, and that I + would follow him shortly. + </p> + <p> + When I called on the Statthalter, I found him to be a thick-set + individual; he was standing up, and surrounded by men who seemed ready to + execute his orders. When he saw me, he shewed me a watch, and requested me + to note the hour. + </p> + <p> + “I see it.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are at Vienna at that time to-morrow I shall have you expelled + from the city.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you give me such an unjust order?” + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, I am not here to give you accounts or reasons for my + actions. However, I may tell you that you are expelled for playing at + games of chance, which are forbidden by the laws under pain of the + galleys. Do you recognize that purse and these cards?” + </p> + <p> + I did not know the cards, but I knew the purse which had been stolen from + me. I was in a terrible rage, and I only replied by presenting the + magistrate with the truthful narrative of what had happened to me. He read + it, and then said with a laugh that I was well known to be a man of parts, + that my character was known, that I had been expelled from Warsaw, and + that as for the document before him he judged it to be a pack of lies, + since in his opinion it was altogether void of probability. + </p> + <p> + “In fine,” he added, “you will obey my order to leave the town, and you + must tell me where you are going.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you that when I have made up my mind to go.” + </p> + <p> + “What? You dare to tell me that you will not obey?” + </p> + <p> + “You yourself have said that if I do not go I shall be removed by force.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. I have heard you have a strong will, but here it will be of no + use to you. I advise you to go quietly, and so avoid harsh measures.” + </p> + <p> + “I request you to return me that document.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not do so. Begone!” + </p> + <p> + This was one of the most terrible moments of my life. I shudder still when + I think of it. It was only a cowardly love of life that hindered me from + running my sword through the body of the Statthalter, who had treated me + as if he were a hangman and not a judge. + </p> + <p> + As I went away I took it into my head to complain to Prince Kaunitz, + though I had not the honour of knowing him. I called at his house, and a + man I met told me to stay in the ante-chamber, as the prince would pass + through to go to dinner. + </p> + <p> + It was five o’clock. The prince appeared, followed by his guests, amongst + whom was M. Polo Renieri, the Venetian ambassador. The prince asked me + what he could do for me, and I told my story in a loud voice before them + all. + </p> + <p> + “I have received my order to go, but I shall not obey. I implore your + highness to give me your protection, and to help me to bring my plea to + the foot of the throne.” + </p> + <p> + “Write out your petition,” he replied, “and I will see that the empress + gets it. But I advise you to ask her majesty for a respite, for if you say + that you won’t obey, she will be predisposed against you.” + </p> + <p> + “But if the royal grace does not place me in security, I shall be driven + away by violence.” + </p> + <p> + “Then take refuge with the ambassador of your native country.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, my lord, my country has forsaken me. An act of legal though + unconstitutional violence has deprived me of my rights as a citizen. My + name is Casanova, and my country is Venice.” + </p> + <p> + The prince looked astonished and turned to the Venetian ambassador, who + smiled, and whispered to him for ten minutes. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a pity,” said the prince, kindly, “that you cannot claim the + protection of any ambassador.” + </p> + <p> + At these words a nobleman of colossal stature stepped forward and said I + could claim his protection, as my whole family, myself included, had + served the prince his master. He spoke the truth, for he was the + ambassador of Saxony. + </p> + <p> + “That is Count Vitzthum,” said the prince. “Write to the empress, and I + will forward your petition immediately. If there is any delay in the + answer, go to the count; you will be safe with him, until you like to + leave Vienna.” + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile the prince ordered writing materials to be brought me, + and he and his guests passed into the dining-hall. + </p> + <p> + I give here a copy of the petition, which I composed in less than ten + minutes. I made a fair copy for the Venetian ambassador to send home to + the Senate: + </p> + <p> + “MADAM,—I am sure that if, as your royal and imperial highness were + walking in your garden, an insect appealed plaintively to you not to crush + it, you would turn aside, and so avoid doing the poor creature any hurt. + </p> + <p> + “I, madam, am an insect, and I beg of you that you will order M. + Statthalter Schrotembach to delay crushing me with your majesty’s slipper + for a week. Possibly, after that time has elapsed, your majesty will not + only prevent his crushing me, but will deprive him of that slipper, which + was only meant to be the terror of rogues, and not of an humble Venetian, + who is an honest man, though he escaped from The Leads. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +“In profound submission to your majesty’s will, + “I remain, + “CASANOVA. +</pre> + <p> + “Given at Vienna, January 21st, 1769.” + </p> + <p> + When I had finished the petition, I made a fair draft of it, and sent it + in to the prince, who sent it back to me telling me that he would place it + in the empress’s hands immediately, but that he would be much obliged by + my making a copy for his own use. + </p> + <p> + I did so, and gave both copies to the valet de chambre, and went my way. I + trembled like a paralytic, and was afraid that my anger might get me into + difficulty. By way of calming myself, I wrote out in the style of a + manifesto the narrative I had given to the vile Schrotembach, and which + that unworthy magistrate had refused to return to me. + </p> + <p> + At seven o’clock Count Vitzthum came into my room. He greeted me in a + friendly manner and begged me to tell him the story of the girl I had gone + to see, on the promise of the Latin quatrain referring to her + accommodating disposition. I gave him the address and copied out the + verses, and he said that was enough to convince an enlightened judge that + I had been slandered; but he, nevertheless, was very doubtful whether + justice would be done me. + </p> + <p> + “What! shall I be obliged to leave Vienna to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, the empress cannot possibly refuse you the week’s delay.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no one could refuse such an appeal as that. Even the prince could not + help smiling as he was reading it in his cold way. After reading it he + passed it on to me, and then to the Venetian ambassador, who asked him if + he meant to give it to the empress as it stood. ‘This petition,’ replied + the prince, ‘might be sent to God, if one knew the way;’ and forthwith he + ordered one of his secretaries to fold it up and see that it was + delivered. We talked of you for the rest of dinner, and I had the pleasure + of hearing the Venetian ambassador say that no one could discover any + reason for your imprisonment under the Leads. Your duel was also + discussed, but on that point we only knew what has appeared in the + newspapers. Oblige me by giving me a copy of your petition; that phrase of + Schrotembach and the slipper pleased me vastly.” + </p> + <p> + I copied out the document, and gave it him with a copy of my manifesto. + Before he left me the count renewed the invitation to take refuge with + him, if I did not hear from the empress before the expiration of the + twenty-four hours. + </p> + <p> + At ten o’clock I had a visit from the Comte de la Perouse, the Marquis de + las Casas, and Signor Uccelli, the secretary of the Venetian embassy. The + latter came to ask for a copy of my petition for his chief. I promised he + should have it, and I also sent a copy of my manifesto. The only thing + which rather interfered with the dignity of this latter piece, and gave it + a somewhat comic air, were the four Latin verses, which might make people + imagine that, after enjoying the girl as Hebe, I had gone in search of her + as Ganymede. This was not the case, but the empress understood Latin and + was familiar with mythology, and if she had looked on it in the light I + have mentioned I should have been undone. I made six copies of the two + documents before I went to bed; I was quite tired out, but the exertion + had somewhat soothed me. At noon the next day, young Hasse (son of the + chapel-master and of the famous Trustina), secretary of legation to Count + Vitzthum, came to tell me from the ambassador that nobody would attack me + in my own house, nor in my carriage if I went abroad, but that it would be + imprudent to go out on foot. He added that his chief would have the + pleasure of calling on me at seven o’clock. I begged M. Hasse to let me + have all this in writing, and after he had written it out he left me. + </p> + <p> + Thus the order to leave Vienna had been suspended; it must have been done + by the sovereign. + </p> + <p> + “I have no time to lose,” said I to myself, “I shall have justice done me, + my assassins will be condemned, my purse will be returned with the two + hundred ducats in it, and not in the condition in which it was shewn to me + by the infamous Schrotembach, who will be punished by dismissal, at + least.” + </p> + <p> + Such were my castles in Spain; who has not built such? ‘Quod nimis miseri + volunt hoc facile credunt’, says Seneca. The wish is father to the + thought. + </p> + <p> + Before sending my manifesto to the empress, Prince Kaunitz, and to all the + ambassadors, I thought it would be well to call on the Countess of Salmor, + who spoke to the sovereign early and late. I had had a letter of + introduction for her. + </p> + <p> + She greeted me by saying that I had better give up wearing my arm in a + sling, as it looked as ii I were a charlatan; my arm must be well enough + after nine months. + </p> + <p> + I was extremely astonished by this greeting, and replied that if it were + not necessary I should not wear a sling, and that I was no charlatan. + </p> + <p> + “However,” I added, “I have come to see you on a different matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know, but I will have nothing to do with it. You are all as bad as + Tomatis.” + </p> + <p> + I gave a turn round and left the room without taking any further notice of + her. I returned home feeling overwhelmed by the situation. I had been + robbed and insulted by a band of thorough-paced rascals; I could do + nothing, justice was denied me, and now I had been made a mock of by a + worthless countess. If I had received such an insult from a man I would + have soon made him feel the weight of one arm at all events. I could not + bear my arm without a sling for an hour; pain and swelling set in + immediately. I was not perfectly cured till twenty months after the duel. + </p> + <p> + Count Vitzthum came to see me at seven o’clock. He said the empress had + told Prince Kaunitz that Schrotembach considered my narrative as pure + romance. His theory was that I had held a bank at faro with sharpers’ + cards, and had dealt with both hands the arm in the sling being a mere + pretence. I had then been taken in the act by one of the gamesters, and my + unjust gains had been very properly taken from me. My detector had then + handed over my purse, containing forty ducats, to the police, and the + money had of course been confiscated. The empress had to choose between + believing Schrotembach and dismissing him; and she was not inclined to do + the latter, as it would be a difficult matter to find him a successor in + his difficult and odious task of keeping Vienna clear of human vermin. + </p> + <p> + “This is what Prince Kaunitz asked me to tell you. But you need not be + afraid of any violence, and you can go when you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am to be robbed of two hundred ducats with impunity. The empress + might at least reimburse me if she does nothing more. Please to ask the + prince whether I can ask the sovereign to give me that satisfaction; the + least I can demand.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell him what you say.” + </p> + <p> + “If not, I shall leave; for what can I do in a town where I can only + drive, and where the Government keeps assassins in its pay?” + </p> + <p> + “You are right. We are all sure that Pocchini has calumniated you. The + girl who recites Latin verses is well known, but none know her address. I + must advise you not to publish your tale as long as you are in Vienna, as + it places Schrotembach in a very bad light, and you see the empress has to + support him in the exercise of his authority.” + </p> + <p> + “I see the force of your argument, and I shall have to devour my anger. I + will leave Vienna as soon as the washerwoman sends home my linen, but I + will have the story printed in all its black injustice.” + </p> + <p> + “The empress is prejudiced against you, I don’t know by whom.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, though; it is that infernal old hag, Countess Salmor.” + </p> + <p> + The next day I received a letter from Count Vitzthum, in which he said + that Prince Kaunitz advised me to forget the two hundred ducats, that the + girl and her so-called mother had left Vienna to all appearance, as + someone had gone to the address and had failed to find her. + </p> + <p> + I saw that I could do nothing, and resolved to depart in peace, and + afterwards to publish the whole story and to hang Pocchini with my own + hands when next I met him. I did neither the one nor the other. + </p> + <p> + About that time a young lady of the Salis de Coire family arrived at + Vienna without any companion. The imperial hangman Schrotembach, ordered + her to leave Vienna in two days. She replied that she would leave exactly + when she felt inclined. The magistrate consigned her to imprisonment in a + convent, and she was there still when I left. The emperor went to see her, + and the empress, his mother, asked him what he thought of her. His answer + was, “I thought her much more amusing than Schrotembach.” + </p> + <p> + Undoubtedly, every man worthy of the name longs to be free, but who is + really free in this world? No one. The philosopher, perchance, may be + accounted so, but it is at the cost of too precious sacrifices at the + phantom shrine of Liberty. + </p> + <p> + I left the use of my suite of rooms, for which I had paid a month in + advance, to Campioni, promising to wait for him at Augsburg, where the Law + alone is supreme. I departed alone carrying with me the bitter regret that + I had not been able to kill the monster, whose despotism had crushed me. I + stopped at Linz on purpose to write to Schrotembach even a more bitter + letter than that which I had written to the Duke of Wurtemburg in 1760. I + posted it myself, and had it registered so as to be sure of its reaching + the scoundrel to whom it had been addressed. It was absolutely necessary + for me to write this letter, for rage that has no vent must kill at last. + From Linz I had a three days’ journey to Munich, where I called on Count + Gaetan Zavoicki, who died at Dresden seven years ago. I had known him at + Venice when he was in want, and I had happily been useful to him. On my + relating the story of the robbery that had been committed on me, he no + doubt imagined I was in want, and gave me twenty-five louis. To tell the + truth it was much less than what I had given him at Venice, and if he had + looked upon his action as paying back a debt we should not have been + quits; but as I had never wished him to think that I had lent, not given + him money, I received the present gratefully. He also gave me a letter for + Count Maximilian Lamberg, marshal at the court of the Prince-Bishop of + Augsburg, whose acquaintance I had the honour of having. + </p> + <p> + There was no theatre then in Augsburg, but there were masked balls in + which all classes mingled freely. There were also small parties where faro + was played for small stakes. I was tired of the pleasure, the misfortune, + and the griefs I had had in three capitals, and I resolved to spend four + months in the free city of Augsburg, where strangers have the same + privileges as the canons. My purse was slender, but with the economical + life I led I had nothing to fear on that score. I was not far from Venice, + where a hundred ducats were always at my service if I wanted them. I + played a little and waged war against the sharpers who have become more + numerous of late than the dupes, as there are also more doctors than + patients. I also thought of getting a mistress, for what is life without + love? I had tried in vain to retrace Gertrude; the engraver was dead, and + no one knew what had become of his daughter. + </p> + <p> + Two or three days before the end of the carnival I went to a hirer of + carriages, as I had to go to a ball at some distance from the town. While + the horses were being put in, I entered the room to warm my hands, for the + weather was very cold. A girl came up and asked me if I would drink a + glass of wine. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I; and on the question being repeated, repeated the + monosyllable somewhat rudely. The girl stood still and began to laugh, and + I was about to turn angrily away when she said,— + </p> + <p> + “I see you do not remember me?” + </p> + <p> + I looked at her attentively, and at last I discovered beneath her + unusually ugly features the lineaments of Anna Midel, the maid in the + engraver’s house. + </p> + <p> + “You remind me of Anna Midel,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Alas, I was Anna Midel once. I am no longer an object fit for love, but + that is your fault.” + </p> + <p> + “Mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; the four hundred florins you gave me made Count Fugger’s coachman + marry me, and he not only abandoned me but gave me a disgusting disease, + which was like to have been my death. I recovered my health, but I never + shall recover my good looks.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry to hear all this; but tell me what has become of + Gertrude?” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t know that you are going to a ball at her house to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Her house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. After her father’s death she married a well-to-do and respectable + man, and I expect you will be pleased with the entertainment.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she pretty still?” + </p> + <p> + “She is just as she used to be, except that she is six years older and has + had children.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she gallant?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think so.” + </p> + <p> + Anna had spoken the truth. Gertrude was pleased to see me, and introduced + me to her husband as one of her father’s old lodgers, and I had altogether + a pleasant welcome; but, on sounding her, I found she entertained those + virtuous sentiments which might have been expected under the + circumstances. + </p> + <p> + Campioni arrived at Augsburg at the beginning of Lent. He was in company + with Binetti, who was going to Paris. He had completely despoiled his + wife, and had left her for ever. Campioni told me that no one at Vienna + doubted my story in the slightest degree. Pocchini and the Sclav had + disappeared a few days after my departure, and the Statthalter had + incurred a great deal of odium by his treatment of me. Campioni spent a + month with me, and then went on to London. + </p> + <p> + I called on Count Lamberg and his countess, who, without being beautiful, + was an epitome of feminine charm and amiability. Her name before marriage + was Countess Dachsberg. Three months after my arrival, this lady, who was + enciente, but did not think her time was due, went with Count Fugger, dean + of the chapter, to a party of pleasure at an inn three quarters of a + league from Augsburg. I was present; and in the course of the meal she was + taken with such violent pains that she feared she would be delivered on + the spot. She did not like to tell the noble canon, and thinking that I + was more likely to be acquainted with such emergencies she came up to me + and told me all. I ordered the coachman to put in his horses instantly, + and when the coach was ready I took up the countess and carried her to it. + The canon followed us in blank astonishment, and asked me what was the + matter. I told him to bid the coachman drive fast and not to spare his + horses. He did so, but he asked again what was the matter. + </p> + <p> + “The countess will be delivered of a child if we do not make haste.” + </p> + <p> + I thought I should be bound to laugh, in spite of my sympathies for the + poor lady’s pains, when I saw the dean turn green and white and purple, + and look as if he were going into a fit, as he realized that the countess + might be delivered before his eyes in his own carriage. The poor man + looked as grievously tormented as St. Laurence on his gridiron. The bishop + was at Plombieres; they would write and tell him! It would be in all the + papers! “Quick! coachman, quick!” + </p> + <p> + We got to the castle before it was too late. I carried the lady into her + room, and they ran for a surgeon and a midwife. It was no good, however, + for in five minutes the count came out and said the countess had just been + happily delivered. The dean looked as if a weight had been taken off his + mind; however, he took the precaution of having himself blooded. + </p> + <p> + I spent an extremely pleasant four months at Augsburg, supping twice or + thrice a week at Count Lamberg’s. At these suppers I made the acquaintance + of a very remarkable man—Count Thura and Valsamina, then a page in + the prince-bishop’s household, now Dean of Ratisbon. He was always at the + count’s, as was also Dr. Algardi, of Bologna, the prince’s physician and a + delightful man. + </p> + <p> + I often saw at the same house a certain Baron Sellenthin, a Prussian + officer, who was always recruiting for his master at Augsburg. He was a + pleasant man, somewhat in the Gascon style, soft-spoken, and an expert + gamester. Five or six years ago I had a letter from him dated Dresden, in + which he said that though he was old, and had married a rich wife, he + repented of having married at all. I should say the same if I had ever + chanced to marry. + </p> + <p> + During my stay at Augsburg several Poles, who had left their country on + account of the troubles, came to see me. Amongst others was Rzewuski, the + royal Prothonotary, whom I had known at St. Petersburg as the lover of + poor Madame Langlade. + </p> + <p> + “What a diet! What plots! What counterplots! What misfortunes!” said this + honest Pole, to me. “Happy are they who have nothing to do with it!” + </p> + <p> + He was going to Spa, and he assured me that if I followed him I should + find Prince Adam’s sister, Tomatis, and Madame Catai, who had become the + manager’s wife. I determined to go to Spa, and to take measures so that I + might go there with three or four hundred ducats in my purse. To this + intent I wrote to Prince Charles of Courland, who was at Venice, to send + me a hundred ducats, and in my letter I gave him an infallible receipt for + the philosopher’s stone. The letter containing this vast secret was not in + cypher, so I advised him to burn it after he had read it, assuring him + that I possessed a copy. He did not do so, and it was taken to Paris with + his order papers when he was sent to the Bastile. + </p> + <p> + If it had not been for the Revolution my letter would never have seen the + light. When the Bastille was destroyed, my letter was found and printed + with other curious compositions, which were afterwards translated into + German and English. The ignorant fools that abound in the land where my + fate wills that I should write down the chief events of my long and + troublous life—these fools, I say, who are naturally my sworn foes + (for the ass lies not down with the horse), make this letter an article of + accusation against me, and think they can stop my mouth by telling me that + the letter has been translated into German, and remains to my eternal + shame. The ignorant Bohemians are astonished when I tell them that I + regard the letter as redounding to my glory, and that if their ears were + not quite so long their blame would be turned into praise. + </p> + <p> + I do not know whether my letter has been correctly translated, but since + it has become public property I shall set it down here in homage to truth, + the only god I adore. I have before me an exact copy of the original + written in Augsburg in the year 1767, and we are now in the year 1798. + </p> + <p> + It runs as follows: + </p> + <p> + “MY LORD,—I hope your highness will either burn this letter after + reading it, or else preserve it with the greatest care. It will be better, + however, to make a copy in cypher, and to burn the original. My attachment + to you is not my only motive in writing; I confess my interest is equally + concerned. Allow me to say that I do not wish your highness to esteem me + alone for any qualities you may have observed in me; I wish you to become + my debtor by the inestimable secret I am going to confide to you. This + secret relates to the making of gold, the only thing of which your + highness stands in need. If you had been miserly by nature you would be + rich now; but you are generous, and will be poor all your days if you do + not make use of my secret. + </p> + <p> + “Your highness told me at Riga that you would like me to give you the + secret by which I transmuted iron into copper; I never did so, but now I + shall teach you how to make a much more marvellous transmutation. I should + point out to you, however, that you are not at present in a suitable place + for the operation, although all the materials are easily procurable. The + operation necessitates my presence for the construction of a furnace, and + for the great care necessary, far the least mistake will spoil all. The + transmutation of Mars is an easy and merely mechanical process, but that + of gold is philosophical in the highest degree. The gold produced will be + equal to that used in the Venetian sequins. You must reflect, my lord, + that I am giving you information which will permit you to dispense with + me, and you must also reflect that I am confiding to you my life and my + liberty. + </p> + <p> + “The step I am taking should insure your life-long protection, and should + raise you above that prejudice which is entertained against the general + mass of alchemists. My vanity would be wounded if you refuse to + distinguish me from the common herd of operators. All I ask you is that + you will wait till we meet before undertaking the process. You cannot do + it by yourself, and if you employ any other person but myself, you will + betray the secret. I must tell you that, using the same materials, and by + the addition of mercury and nitre, I made the tree of projection for the + Marchioness d’Urfe and the Princess of Anhalt. Zerbst calculated the + profit as fifty per cent. My fortune would have been made long ago, if I + had found a prince with the control of a mint whom I could trust. Your + character enables me to confide in you. However, we will come to the + point. + </p> + <p> + “You must take four ounces of good silver, dissolve in aqua fortis, + precipitate secundum artem with copper, then wash in lukewarm water to + separate the acids; dry, mix with half an ounce of sal ammoniac, and place + in a suitable vessel. Afterwards you must take a pound of alum, a pound of + Hungary crystals, four ounces of verdigris, four ounces of cinnabar, and + two ounces of sulphur. Pulverise and mix, and place in a retort of such + size that the above matters will only half fill it. This retort must be + placed over a furnace with four draughts, for the heat must be raised to + the fourth degree. At first your fire must be slow so as to extract the + gross phlegm of the matter, and when the spirit begins to appear, place + the receiver under the retort, and Luna with the ammoniac salts will + appear in it. All the joinings must be luted with the Philosophical + Luting, and as the spirit comes, so regulate your furnace, but do not let + it pass the third degree of heat. + </p> + <p> + “So soon as the sublimation begins then boldly open your forth vent, but + take heed that that which is sublimed pass not into the receiver where is + your Luna, and so you must shut the mouth of the retort closely, and keep + it so for twenty-four hours, and then take off your fastenings, and allow + the distillation to go on. Then you must increase your fire so that the + spirits may pass, over, until the matter in the retort is quite + desiccated. After this operation has been performed three times, then you + shall see the gold appear in the retort. Then draw it forth and melt it, + adding your corpus perfectum. Melt with it two ounces of gold, then lay it + in water, and you shall find four ounces of pure gold. + </p> + <p> + “Such my lord, is the gold mine for your mint of Mitau, by which, with the + assistance of a manager and four men, you can assure yourself a revenue of + a thousand ducats a week, and double, and quadruple that sum, if your + highness chooses to increase the men and the furnaces. I ask your highness + to make me your manager. But remember it must be a State secret, so burn + this letter, and if your highness would give me any reward in advance, I + only ask you to give me your affection and esteem. I shall be happy if I + have reason to believe that my master will also be my friend. My life, + which this letter places in your power, is ever at your service, and I + know not what I shall do if I ever have cause to repent having disclosed + my secret. I have the honour to be, etc.” + </p> + <p> + In whatever language this letter may have been translated, if its sense + run not as above, it is not my letter, and I am ready to give the lie to + all the Mirabeaus in the world. I have been called an exile, but + wrongfully, for a man who has to leave a country by virtue of a ‘lettre de + cachet’ is no exile. He is forced to obey a despotic monarch who looks + upon his kingdom as his house, and turns out of doors anyone who meets + with his displeasure. + </p> + <p> + As soon as my purse swelled to a respectable size, I left Augsburg, The + date of my departure was June 14th, 1767. I was at Ulm when a courier of + the Duke of Wurtemburg’s passed through the town with the news that his + highness would arrive from Venice in the course of five or six days. This + courier had a letter for me. It had been entrusted to him by Prince + Charles of Courland, who had told the courier that he would find me at the + “Hotel du Raisin,” in Augsburg. As it happened, I had left the day before, + but knowing the way by which I had gone he caught me up at Ulm. He gave me + the letter and asked me if I were the same Casanova who had been placed + under arrest and had escaped, on account of some gambling dispute with + three officers. As I was never an adept in concealing the truth, I replied + in the affirmative. A Wurtemburg officer who was standing beside us + observed to me in a friendly manner that he was at Stuttgart at the time, + and that most people concurred in blaming the three officers for their + conduct in the matter. + </p> + <p> + Without making any reply I read the letter, which referred to our private + affairs, but as I was reading it I resolved to tell a little lie—one + of those lies which do nobody any harm. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” I said to the officer, “his highness, your sovereign, has + listened to reason at last, and this letter informs me of a reparation + which is in every way satisfactory. The duke has created me his private + secretary, with a salary of twelve hundred a year. But I have waited for + it a long time. God knows what has become of the three officers!” + </p> + <p> + “They are all at Louisburg, and ——— is now a colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they will be surprised to hear my news, and they will hear it + to-morrow, for I am leaving this place in an hour. If they are at + Louisburg, I shall have a triumph; but I am sorry not to be able to + accompany you, however we shall see each other the day after tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + I had an excellent night, and awoke with the beautiful idea of going to + Louisburg, not to fight the three officers but to frighten them, triumph + over them, and to enjoy a pleasant vengeance for the injury they had done + me. I should at the same time see a good many old friends; there was + Madame Toscani, the duke’s mistress; Baletti, and Vestri, who had married + a former mistress of the duke’s. I had sounded the depths of the human + heart, and knew I had nothing to fear. The duke was on the point of + returning, and nobody would dream of impugning the truth of my story. When + he actually did arrive he would not find me, for as soon as the courier + announced his approach I should go away, telling everybody that I had + orders to precede his highness, and everybody would be duped. + </p> + <p> + I never had so pleasant an idea before. I was quite proud of it, and I + should have despised myself if I had failed to carry it into effect. It + would be my vengeance on the duke, who could not have forgotten the + terrible letter I had written him; for princes do not forget small + injuries as they forget great services. + </p> + <p> + I slept badly the following night, my anxiety was so great, and I reached + Louisburg and gave my name at the town gates, without the addition of my + pretended office, for my jest must be matured by degrees. I went to stay + at the posting-inn, and just as I was asking for the address of Madame + Toscani, she and her husband appeared on the scene. They both flung their + arms around my neck, and overwhelmed me with compliments on my wounded arm + and the victory I had achieved. + </p> + <p> + “What victory?” + </p> + <p> + “Your appearance here has filled the hearts of all your friends with joy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I certainly am in the duke’s service, but how did you find it out?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s the common talk. The courier who gave you the letter has spread it + all abroad, and the officer who was present and arrived here yesterday + morning confirmed it. But you cannot imagine the consternation of your + three foes. However, we are afraid that you will have some trouble with + them, as they have kept your letter of defiance given from Furstenberg.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t they meet me, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Two of them could not go, and the third arrived too late.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. If the duke has no objection I shall be happy to meet them one + after another, not three all at once. Of course, the duel must be with + pistols; a sword duel is out of the question with my arm in a sling.” + </p> + <p> + “We will speak of that again. My daughter wants to make peace before the + duke comes, and you had better consent to arrangements, for there are + three of them, and it isn’t likely that you could kill the whole three one + after the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Your daughter must have grown into a beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “You must stop with us this evening; you will see her, for she is no + longer the duke’s mistress. She is going to get married.” + </p> + <p> + “If your daughter can bring about an arrangement I would gladly fall in + with it, provided it is an honourable one for me.” + </p> + <p> + “How is it that you are wearing the sling after all these months?” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite cured, and yet my arm swells as soon as I let it swing loose. + You shall see it after dinner, for you must dine with me if you want me to + sup with you.” + </p> + <p> + Next came Vestri, whom I did not know, accompanied by my beloved Baletti. + With them was an officer who was in love with Madame Toscani’s second + daughter, and another of their circle, with whom I was also unacquainted. + They all came to congratulate me on my honourable position in the duke’s + service. Baletti was quite overcome with delight. The reader will + recollect that he was my chief assistant in my escape from Stuttgart, and + that I was once going to marry his sister. Baletti was a fine fellow, and + the duke was very fond of him. He had a little country house, with a spare + room, which he begged me to accept, as he said he was only too proud that + the duke should know him as my best friend. When his highness came, of + course I would have an apartment in the palace. I accepted; and as it was + still early, we all went to see the young Toscani. I had loved her in + Paris before her beauty had reached its zenith, and she was naturally + proud to shew me how beautiful she had become. She shewed me her house and + her jewels, told me the story of her amours with the duke, of her breaking + with him on account of his perpetual infidelities, and of her marriage + with a man she despised, but who was forced on her by her position. + </p> + <p> + At dinner-time we all went to the inn, where we met the offending colonel; + he was the first to take off his hat, we returned the salute, and he + passed on his way. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was a pleasant one, and when it was over I proceeded to take up + my quarters with Baletti. In the evening we went to Madame Toscani’s, + where I saw two girls of ravishing beauty, Madame Toscani’s daughter and + Vestri’s wife, of whom the duke had had two children. Madame Vestri was a + handsome woman, but her wit and the charm of her manner enchanted me still + more. She had only one fault—she lisped. + </p> + <p> + There was a certain reserve about the manner of Mdlle. Toscani, so I + chiefly addressed myself to Madame Vestri, whose husband was not jealous, + for he neither cared for her nor she for him. On the day of my arrival the + manager had distributed the parts of a little play which was to be given + in honour of the duke’s arrival. It had been written by a local author, in + hopes of its obtaining the favour of the Court for him. + </p> + <p> + After supper the little piece was discussed. Madame Vestri played the + principal part, which she was prevailed upon to recite. + </p> + <p> + “Your elocution is admirable, and your expression full of spirit,” I + observed; “but what a pity it is that you do not pronounce the dentals.” + </p> + <p> + The whole table scouted my opinion. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a beauty, not a defect,” said they. “It makes her acting soft and + delicate; other actresses envy her the privilege of what you call a + defect.” + </p> + <p> + I made no answer, but looked at Madame Vestri. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I am taken in by all that?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “I think you are much too sensible to believe such nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + “I prefer a man to say honestly, ‘what a pity,’ than to hear all that + foolish flattery. But I am sorry to say that there is no remedy for the + defect.” + </p> + <p> + “No remedy?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, I have an infallible remedy for your complaint. You shall give + me a good hearty blow if I do not make you read the part perfectly by + to-morrow, but if I succeed in making you read it as your husband, for + example’s sake, might read it you shall permit me to give you a tender + embrace.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; but what must I do?” + </p> + <p> + “You must let me weave a spell over your part, that is all. Give it to me. + To-morrow morning at nine o’clock I will bring it to you to get my blow or + my kiss, if your husband has no objection.” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever; but we do not believe in spells.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, in a general way; but mine will not fail.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Vestri left me the part, and the conversation turned on other + subjects. I was condoled with on my swollen hand, and I told the story of + my duel. Everybody seemed to delight in entertaining me and feasting me, + and I went back to Baletti’s in love with all the ladies, but especially + with Madame Vestri and Mdlle. Toscani. + </p> + <p> + Baletti had a beautiful little girl of three years old. + </p> + <p> + “How did you get that angel?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “There’s her mother; and, as a proof of my hospitality, she shall sleep + with you to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “I accept your generous offer; but let it be to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + “And why not to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I shall be engaged all night in weaving my spell.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? I thought that was a joke.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am quite serious.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you a little crazy?” + </p> + <p> + “You shall see. Do you go to bed, and leave me a light and writing + materials.” + </p> + <p> + I spent six hours in copying out the part, only altering certain phrases. + For all words in which the letter r appeared I substituted another. It was + a tiresome task, but I longed to embrace Madame Vestri before her husband. + I set about my task in the following manner: + </p> + <p> + The text ran: + </p> + <p> + “Les procedes de cet homme m’outragent et me deseparent, je dois penser a + me debarrasser.” + </p> + <p> + For this I substituted: + </p> + <p> + “Cet homme a des facons qui m’offensent et me desolent, il faut que je + m’en defasse;” and so on throughout the piece. + </p> + <p> + When I had finished I slept for three hours, and then rose and dressed. + Baletti saw my spell, and said I had earned the curses of the young + author, as Madame Vestri would no doubt make him write all parts for her + without using the letter ‘r’; and, indeed, that was just what she did. + </p> + <p> + I called on the actress and found her getting up. I gave her the part, and + as soon as she saw what I had done she burst out into exclamations of + delight; and calling her husband shewed him my contrivance, and said she + would never play a part with an ‘r’ in it again. I promised to copy them + all out, and added that I had spent the whole night in amending the + present part. “The whole night! Come and take your reward, for you are + cleverer than any sorcerer. We must have the author to dinner, and I shall + make him promise to write all my parts without the ‘r’, or the duke will + not employ him. Indeed, I don’t wonder the duke has made you his + secretary. I never thought it would be possible to do what you have done; + but I suppose it was very difficult?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. If I were a pretty woman with the like defect I should take + care to avoid all words with an ‘r’ in them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that would be too much trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us bet again, for a box or a kiss, that you can spend a whole day + without using an ‘r’. Let us begin now.” + </p> + <p> + “All in good time,” said she, “but we won’t have any stake, as I think you + are too greedy.” + </p> + <p> + The author came to dinner, and was duly attacked by Madame Vestri. She + began by saying that it was an author’s duty to be polite to actresses, + and if any of them spoke with a lisp the least he could do was to write + their parts without the fatal letter. + </p> + <p> + The young author laughed, and said it could not be done without spoiling + the style. Thereupon Madame Vestri gave him my version of her part, + telling him to read it, and to say on his conscience whether the style had + suffered. He had to confess that my alterations were positive + improvements, due to the great richness of the French language. And he was + right, for there is no language in the world that can compare in + copiousness of expression with the French. + </p> + <p> + This trifling subject kept us merry, but Madame Vestri expressed a devout + wish that all authors would do for her what I had done. At Paris, where I + heard her playing well and lisping terribly, she did not find the authors + so obliging, but she pleased the people. She asked me if I would undertake + to recompose Zaire, leaving out the r’s. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said I, “considering that it would have to be in verse, and in + Voltairean verse, I would rather not undertake the task.” + </p> + <p> + With a view to pleasing the actress the young author asked me how I would + tell her that she was charming without using an ‘r’. + </p> + <p> + “I should say that she enchanted me, made me in an ecstasy, that she is + unique.” + </p> + <p> + She wrote me a letter, which I still keep, in which the ‘r’ does not + appear. If I could have stayed at Stuttgart, this device of mine might + have won me her favours; but after a week of feasting and triumph the + courier came one morning at ten o’clock and announced that his highness, + the duke, would arrive at four. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I heard the news I told Baletti with the utmost coolness that I + thought it would be only polite to meet my lord, and swell his train on + his entry into Louisburg; and as I wished to meet him at a distance of two + stages I should have to go at once. He thought my idea an excellent one, + and went to order post-horses immediately; but when he saw me packing up + all my belongings into my trunk, he guessed the truth and applauded the + jest. I embraced him and confessed my hardihood. He was sorry to lose me, + but he laughed when he thought of the feelings of the duke and of the + three officers when they found out the trick. He promised to write to me + at Mannheim, where I had decided on spending a week to see my beloved + Algardi, who was in the service of the Elector. I had also letters for M. + de Sickirigen and Baron Becker, one of the Elector’s ministers. + </p> + <p> + When the horses were put in I embraced Baletti, his little girl, and his + pretty housekeeper, and ordered the postillion to drive to Mannheim. + </p> + <p> + When we reached Mannheim I heard that the Court was at Schwetzingen, and I + bade the postillion drive on. I found everyone I had expected to see. + Algardi had got married, M. de Sickingen was soliciting the position of + ambassador to Paris, and Baron Becker introduced me to the Elector. Five + or six days after my arrival died Prince Frederic des Deux Ponts, and I + will here relate an anecdote I heard the day before he died. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Algardi had attended on the prince during his last illness. I was + supping with Veraci, the poet-laureate, on the eve of the prince’s death, + and in the course of supper Algardi came in. + </p> + <p> + “How is the prince?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “The poor prince—he cannot possibly live more than twenty-four + hours.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he know it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he still hopes. He grieved me to the heart by bidding me tell him the + whole truth; he even bade me give my word of honour that I was speaking + the truth. Then he asked me if he were positively in danger of death.” + </p> + <p> + “And you told him the truth?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. I told him his sickness was undoubtedly a mortal one, but + that with the help of nature and art wonders might be worked.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you deceived him, and told a lie?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not deceive him; his recovery comes under the category of the + possible. I did not want to leave him in despair, for despair would most + certainly kill him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; but you will confess that you told him a lie and broke your + word of honour.” + </p> + <p> + “I told no lie, for I know that he may possibly be cured.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you lied just now?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, for he will die to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me that your reasoning is a little Jesuitical.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is not. My duty was to prolong my patient’s life and to spare him + a sentence which would most certainly have shortened it, possibly by + several hours; besides, it is not an absolute impossibility that he should + recover, therefore I did not lie when I told him that he might recover, + nor did I lie just now when I gave it as my opinion (the result of my + experience) that he would die to-morrow. I would certainly wager a million + to one that he will die to-morrow, but I would not wager my life.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, and yet for all that you deceived the poor man; for his + intention in asking you the question was not to be told a commonplace + which he knew as well as you, but to learn your true opinion as to his + life or death. But again I agree with you that as his physician you were + quite right not to shorten his few remaining hours by telling him the + terrible truth.” + </p> + <p> + After a fortnight I left Schwetzingen, leaving some of my belongings under + the care of Veraci the poet, telling him I would call for them some day; + but I never came, and after a lapse of thirty-one years Veraci keeps them + still. He was one of the strangest poets I have ever met. He affected + eccentricity to make himself notorious, and opposed the great Metastasio + in everything, writing unwieldy verses which he said gave more scope for + the person who set them to music. He had got this extravagant notion from + Jumelli. + </p> + <p> + I traveled to Mayence and thence I sailed to Cologne, where I looked + forward to the pleasure of meeting with the burgomaster’s wife who + disliked General Kettler, and had treated me so well seven years ago. But + that was not the only reason which impelled me to visit that odious town. + When I was at Dresden I had read in a number of the Cologne Gazette that + “Master Casanova has returned to Warsaw only to be sent about his business + again. The king has heard some stories of this famous adventurer, which + compel him to forbid him his Court.” + </p> + <p> + I could not stomach language of this kind, and I resolved to pay Jacquet, + the editor, a visit, and now my time had come. + </p> + <p> + I made a hasty dinner and then called on the burgomaster, whom I found + sitting at table with his fair Mimi. They welcomed me warmly, and for two + hours I told them the story of my adventures during the last seven years. + Mimi had to go out, and I was asked to dine with them the next day. + </p> + <p> + I thought she looked prettier than ever, and my imagination promised me + some delicious moments with her. I spent an anxious and impatient night, + and called on my Amphitryon at an early hour to have an opportunity of + speaking to his dear companion. I found her alone, and began with an + ardent caress which she gently repelled, but her face froze my passion in + its course. + </p> + <p> + “Time is an excellent doctor,” said she, “and it has cured me of a passion + which left behind it the sting of remorse.” + </p> + <p> + “What! The confessional . . . .” + </p> + <p> + “Should only serve as a place wherein to confess our sins of the past, and + to implore grace to sin no more.” + </p> + <p> + “May the Lord save me from repentance, the only source of which is a + prejudice! I shall leave Cologne to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not tell you to go.” + </p> + <p> + “If there is no hope, it is no place for me. May I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “Never.” + </p> + <p> + She was delightful at table, but I was gloomy and distracted. At seven + o’clock next day I set out, and as soon as I had passed the Aix la + Chapelle Gate, I told the postillion to stop and wait for me. I then + walked to Jacquet’s, armed with a pistol and a cane, though I only meant + to beat him. + </p> + <p> + The servant shewed me into the room where he was working by himself. It + was on the ground floor, and the door was open for coolness’ sake. + </p> + <p> + He heard me coming in and asked what he could do for me. + </p> + <p> + “You scoundrelly journalist.” I replied, “I am the adventurer Casanova + whom you slandered in your miserable sheet four months ago.” + </p> + <p> + So saying I directed my pistol at his head, with my left hand, and lifted + my cane with my right. But the wretched scribbler fell on his knees before + me with clasped hands and offered to shew me the signed letter he had + received from Warsaw, which contained the statements he had inserted in + his paper. + </p> + <p> + “Where is this letter?” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have it in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + I made way for him to search, but I locked and bolted the door to prevent + his escaping. The man trembled like a leaf and began to look for the + letter amongst his Warsaw correspondence, which was in a disgraceful state + of confusion. I shewed him the date of the article in the paper, but the + letter could not be found; and at the end of an hour he fell down again on + his knees, and told me to do what I would to him. I gave him a kick and + told him to get up and follow me. He made no reply, and followed me + bareheaded till he saw me get into my chaise and drive off, and I have no + doubt he gave thanks to God for his light escape. In the evening, I + reached Aix-la-Chapelle, where I found Princess Lubomirska, General + Roniker, several other distinguished Poles, Tomatis and his wife, and many + Englishmen of my acquaintance. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0002" id="linkF2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Stay at Spa—The Blow—The Sword—Della Croce—Charlotte; + Her Lying-in and Death—A Lettre de Cachet Obliges Me to + Leave Paris in the Course of Twenty-four Hours +</pre> + <p> + All my friends seemed delighted to see me, and I was well pleased to find + myself in such good company. People were on the point of leaving Aix for + Spa. Nearly everyone went, and those who stayed only did so because + lodgings were not to be had at Spa. Everybody assured me that this was the + case, and many had returned after seeking in vain for a mere garret. I + paid no attention to all this, and told the princess that if she would + come with me I would find some lodging, were it only in my carriage. We + accordingly set out the next day, and got to Spa in good time, our company + consisting of the princess, the prothonotary, Roniker, and the Tomatis. + Everyone except myself had taken rooms in advance, I alone knew not where + to turn. I got out and prepared for the search, but before going along the + streets I went into a shop and bought a hat, having lost mine on the way. + I explained my situation to the shopwoman, who seemed to take an interest + in me, and began speaking to her husband in Flemish or Walloon, and + finally informed me that if it were only for a few days she and her + husband would sleep in the shop and give up their room to me. But she said + that she had absolutely no room whatever for my man. + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t got one.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better. Send away your carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Where shall I send it?” + </p> + <p> + “I will see that it is housed safely.” + </p> + <p> + “How much am I to pay?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing; and if you are not too particular, we should like you to share + our meals.” + </p> + <p> + “I accept your offer thankfully.” + </p> + <p> + I went up a narrow staircase, and found myself in a pretty little room + with a closet, a good bed, suitable furniture, and everything perfectly + neat and clean. I thought myself very lucky, and asked the good people why + they would not sleep in the closet rather than the shop, and they replied + with one breath that they would be in my way, while their niece would not + interfere with me. + </p> + <p> + This news about the niece was a surprise to me. The closet had no door, + and was not much bigger than the bed which it contained; it was, in fact, + a mere alcove, without any window. + </p> + <p> + I must note that my hostess and her husband, both of them from Liege, were + perfect models of ugliness. + </p> + <p> + “It’s not within the limits of possibility,” I said to myself, “for the + niece to be uglier than they, but if they allow her to sleep thus in the + same room with the first comer, she must be proof against all temptation.” + </p> + <p> + However, I gave no sign, and did not ask to see the niece for fear of + offense, and I went out without opening my trunk. I told them as I went + out that I should not be back till after supper, and gave them some money + to buy wax candles and night lights. + </p> + <p> + I went to see the princess with whom I was to sup. All the company + congratulated me on my good fortune in finding a lodging. I went to the + concert, to the bank at faro, and to the other gaming saloons, and there I + saw the so-called Marquis d’Aragon, who was playing at piquet with an old + count of the Holy Roman Empire. I was told about the duel he had had three + weeks before with a Frenchman who had picked a quarrel with him; the + Frenchman had been wounded in the chest, and was still ill. Nevertheless, + he was only waiting for his cure to be completed to have his revenge, + which he had demanded as he was taken off the field. Such is the way of + the French when a duel is fought for a trifling matter. They stop at the + first blood, and fight the duel over and over again. In Italy, on the + other hand, duels are fought to the death. Our blood burns to fire when + our adversary’s sword opens a vein. Thus stabbing is common in Italy and + rare in France; while duels are common in France, and rare in Italy. + </p> + <p> + Of all the company at Spa, I was most pleased to see the Marquis + Caraccioli, whom I had left in London. His Court had given him leave of + absence, and he was spending it at Spa. He was brimful of wit and the milk + of human kindness, compassionate for the weaknesses of others, and devoted + to youth, no matter of what sex, but he knew well the virtue of + moderation, and used all things without abusing them. He never played, but + he loved a good gamester and despised all dupes. The worthy marquis was + the means of making the fortune of the so-called Marquis d’Aragon by + becoming surety for his nobility and bona fides to a wealthy English widow + of fifty, who had taken a fancy to him, and brought him her fortune of + sixty thousand pounds sterling. No doubt the widow was taken with the + gigantic form and the beautiful title of d’Aragon, for Dragon (as his name + really was) was devoid of wit and manners, and his legs, which I suppose + he kept well covered, bore disgusting marks of the libertine life he had + led. I saw the marquis some time afterwards at Marseilles, and a few years + later he purchased two estates at Modena. His wife died in due course, and + according to the English law he inherited the whole of her property. + </p> + <p> + I returned to my lodging in good time, and went to bed without seeing the + niece, who was fast asleep. I was waited on by the ugly aunt, who begged + me not to take a servant while I remained in her house, for by her account + all servants were thieves. + </p> + <p> + When I awoke in the morning the niece had got up and gone down. I dressed + to go to the Wells, and warned my host and hostess that I should have the + pleasure of dining with them. The room I occupied was the only place in + which they could take their meals, and I was astonished when they came and + asked my permission to do so. The niece had gone out, so I had to put my + curiosity aside. When I was out my acquaintances pointed out to me the + chief beauties who then haunted the Wells. The number of adventurers who + flock to Spa during the season is something incredible, and they all hope + to make their fortunes; and, as may be supposed, most of them go away as + naked as they came, if not more so. Money circulates with great freedom, + but principally amongst the gamesters, shop-keepers, money-lenders, and + courtezans. The money which proceeds from the gaming-table has three + issues: the first and smallest share goes to the Prince-Bishop of Liege; + the second and larger portion, to the numerous amateur cheats who frequent + the place; and by far the largest of all to the coffers of twelve + sharpers, who keep the tables and are authorized by the sovereign. + </p> + <p> + Thus goes the money. It comes from the pockets of the dupes—poor + moths who burn their wings at Spa! + </p> + <p> + The Wells are a mere pretext for gaming, intriguing, and fortune-hunting. + There are a few honest people who go for amusement, and a few for rest and + relaxation after the toils of business. + </p> + <p> + Living is cheap enough at Spa. The table d’hote is excellent, and only + costs a small French crown, and one can get good lodging for the like sum. + </p> + <p> + I came home at noon having won a score of louis. I went into the shop, + intending to go to my room, but I was stopped short by seeing a handsome + brunette, of nineteen or twenty, with great black eyes, voluptuous lips, + and shining teeth, measuring out ribbon on the counter. This, then, was + the niece, whom I had imagined as so ugly. I concealed my surprise and sat + down in the shop to gaze at her and endeavour to make her acquaintance. + But she hardly seemed to see me, and only acknowledged my presence by a + slight inclination of the head. Her aunt came down to say that dinner was + ready, and I went upstairs and found the table laid for four. The servant + brought in the soup, and then asked me very plainly to give her some money + if I wanted any wine, as her master and mistress only drank beer. I was + delighted with her freedom, and gave her money to buy two bottles of + Burgundy. + </p> + <p> + The master came up and shewed me a gold repeater with a chain also of gold + by a well-known modern maker. He wanted to know how much it was worth. + </p> + <p> + “Forty louis at the least.” + </p> + <p> + “A gentleman wants me to give him twenty louis for it, on the condition + that I return it to-morrow if he brings me twenty-two.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I advise you to accept his offer.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t got the money.” + </p> + <p> + “I will lend it you with pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + I gave him the twenty Louis, and placed the watch in my jewel-casket. At + table the niece sat opposite to me, but I took care not to look at her, + and she, like a modest girl, did not say a score of words all through the + meal. The meal was an excellent one, consisting of soup, boiled beef, an + entree, and a roast. The mistress of the house told me that the roast was + in my honour, “for,” she said, “we are not rich people, and we only allow + ourselves this luxury on a Sunday.” I admired her delicacy, and the + evident sincerity with which she spoke. I begged my entertainers to help + me with my wine, and they accepted the offer, saying they only wished they + were rich enough to be able to drink half a bottle a day. + </p> + <p> + “I thought trade was good with you.” + </p> + <p> + “The stuff is not ours, and we have debts; besides, the expenses are very + great. We have sold very little up to now.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you only sell hats?” + </p> + <p> + “No, we have silk handkerchiefs, Paris stockings, and lace ruffs, but they + say everything is too dear.” + </p> + <p> + “I will buy some things for you, and will send all my friends here. Leave + it to me; I will see what I can do for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy, fetch down one or two packets of those handkerchiefs and some + stockings, large size, for the gentleman has a big leg.” + </p> + <p> + Mercy, as the niece was called, obeyed. I pronounced the handkerchiefs + superb and the stockings excellent. I bought a dozen, and I promised them + that they should sell out their whole stock. They overwhelmed me with + thanks, and promised to put themselves entirely in my hands. + </p> + <p> + After coffee, which, like the roast, was in my honour, the aunt told her + niece to take care not to awake me in the morning when she got up. She said + she would not fail, but I begged her not to take too much trouble over me, + as I was a very heavy sleeper. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon I went to an armourer’s to buy a brace of pistols, and + asked the man if he knew the tradesman with whom I was staying. + </p> + <p> + “We are cousins-german,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Is he rich?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in debts.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he is unfortunate, like most honest people.” + </p> + <p> + “How about his wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Her careful economy keeps him above water.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the niece?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; she’s a good girl, but very pious. Her silly scruples keep customers + away from the shop.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think she should do to attract customers?” + </p> + <p> + “She should be more polite, and not play the prude when anyone wants to + give her a kiss.” + </p> + <p> + “She is like that, is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Try her yourself and you will see. Last week she gave an officer a box on + the ear. My cousin scolded her, and she wanted to go back to Liege; + however, the wife soothed her again. She is pretty enough, don’t you think + so?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I do, but if she is as cross-grained as you say, the best thing + will be to leave her alone.” + </p> + <p> + After what I had heard I made up my mind to change my room, for Mercy had + pleased me in such a way that I was sure I should be obliged to pay her a + call before long, and I detested Pamelas as heartily as Charpillons. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon I took Rzewuski and Roniker to the shop, and they bought + fifty ducats’ worth of goods to oblige me. The next day the princess and + Madame Tomatis bought all the handkerchiefs. + </p> + <p> + I came home at ten o’clock, and found Mercy in bed as I had done the night + before. Next morning the watch was redeemed, and the hatter returned me + twenty-two louis. I made him a present of the two louis, and said I should + always be glad to lend him money in that way—the profits to be his. + He left me full of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + I was asked to dine with Madame Tomatis, so I told my hosts that I would + have the pleasure of supping with them, the costs to be borne by me. The + supper was good and the Burgundy excellent, but Mercy refused to taste it. + She happened to leave the room for a moment at the close of the meal, and + I observed to the aunt that her niece was charming, but it was a pity she + was so sad. + </p> + <p> + “She will have to change her ways, or I will keep her no longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she the same with all men?” + </p> + <p> + “With all.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she has never been in love.” + </p> + <p> + “She says she has not, but I don’t believe her.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder she can sleep so comfortably with a man at a few feet distant.” + </p> + <p> + “She is not afraid.” + </p> + <p> + Mercy came in, bade us good night, and said she would go to bed. I made as + if I would give her a kiss, but she turned her back on me, and placed a + chair in front of her closet so that I might not see her taking off her + chemise. My host and hostess then went to bed, and so did I, puzzling my + head over the girl’s behaviour which struck me as most extraordinary and + unaccountable. However, I slept peacefully, and when I awoke the bird had + left the nest. I felt inclined to have a little quiet argument with the + girl, and to see what I could make of her; but I saw no chance of my + getting an opportunity. The hatter availed himself of my offer of purse to + lend money on pledges, whereby he made a good profit. There was no risk + for me in the matter, and he and his wife declared that they blessed the + day on which I had come to live with them. + </p> + <p> + On the fifth or sixth day I awoke before Mercy, and only putting on my + dressing-gown I came towards her bed. She had a quick ear and woke up, and + no sooner did she see me coming towards her than she asked me what I + wanted. I sat down on her bed and said gently that I only wanted to wish + her a good day and to have a little talk. It was hot weather, and she was + only covered by a single sheet; and stretching out one arm I drew her + towards me, and begged her to let me give her a kiss. Her resistance made + me angry; and passing an audacious hand under the sheet I discovered that + she was made like other women; but just as my hand was on the spot, I + received a fisticuff on the nose that made me see a thousand stars, and + quite extinguished the fire of my concupiscence. The blood streamed from + my nose and stained the bed of the furious Mercy. I kept my presence of + mind and left her on the spot, as the blow she had given me was but a + sample of what I might expect if I attempted reprisals. I washed my face + in cold water, and as I was doing so Mercy dressed herself and left the + room. + </p> + <p> + At last my blood ceased to flow, and I saw to my great annoyance that my + nose was swollen in such a manner that my face was simply hideous. I + covered it up with a handkerchief and sent for the hairdresser to do my + hair, and when this was done my landlady brought me up some fine trout, of + which I approved; but as I was giving her the money she saw my face and + uttered a cry of horror. I told her the whole story, freely acknowledging + that I was in the wrong, and begging her to say nothing to her niece. Then + heeding not her excuses I went out with my handkerchief before my face, + and visited a house which the Duchess of Richmond had left the day before. + </p> + <p> + Half of the suite she had abandoned had been taken in advance by an + Italian marquis; I took the other half, hired a servant, and had my + effects transported there from my old lodgings. The tears and + supplications of my landlady had no effect whatever upon me, I felt I + could not bear the sight of Mercy any longer. + </p> + <p> + In the house into which I had moved I found an Englishman who said he + would bring down the bruise in one hour, and make the discoloration of the + flesh disappear in twenty-four. I let him do what he liked and he kept his + word. He rubbed the place with spirits of wine and some drug which is + unknown to me; but being ashamed to appear in public in the state I was + in, I kept indoors for the rest of the day. At noon the distressed aunt + brought me my trout, and said that Mercy was cut to the heart to have used + me so, and that if I would come back I could do what I liked with her. + </p> + <p> + “You must feel,” I replied, “that if I complied with your request the + adventure would become public to the damage of my honour and your + business, and your niece would not be able to pass for a devotee any + longer.” + </p> + <p> + I made some reflections on the blow she had given the officer, much to the + aunt’s surprise, for she could not think how I had heard of it; and I + shewed her that, after having exposed me to her niece’s brutality, her + request was extremely out of place. I concluded by saying that I could + believe her to be an accomplice in the fact without any great stretch of + imagination. This made her burst into tears, and I had to apologize and to + promise to continue forwarding her business by way of consolation, and so + she left me in a calmer mood. Half an hour afterwards her husband came + with twenty-five Louis I had lent him on a gold snuff-box set with + diamonds, and proposed that I should lend two hundred Louis on a ring + worth four hundred. + </p> + <p> + “It will be yours,” he said, “if the owner does not bring me two hundred + and twenty Louis in a week’s time.” + </p> + <p> + I had the money and proceeded to examine the stone which seemed to be a + good diamond, and would probably weigh six carats as the owner declared. + The setting was in gold. + </p> + <p> + “I consent to give the sum required if the owner is ready to give me a + receipt.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do so myself in the presence of witnesses.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. You shall have the money in the course of an hour; I am going + to have the stone taken out first. That will make no difference to the + owner, as I shall have it reset at my own expense. If he redeems it, the + twenty Louis shall be yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I must ask him whether he has any objection to the stone being taken + out.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, but you can tell him that if he will not allow it to be done + he will get nothing for it.” + </p> + <p> + He returned before long with a jeweller who said he would guarantee the + stone to be at least two grains over the six carats. + </p> + <p> + “Have you weighed it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I am quite sure it weighs over six carats.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you can lend the money on it?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot command such a sum.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me why the owner objects to the stone being taken out and + put in at my expense?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I can’t; but he does object.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he may take his ring somewhere else.” + </p> + <p> + They went away, leaving me well pleased at my refusal, for it was plain + that the stone was either false or had a false bottom. + </p> + <p> + I spent the rest of the day in writing letters and making a good supper, + In the morning I was awoke by someone knocking at my door, and on my + getting up to open it, what was my astonishment to find Mercy! + </p> + <p> + I let her in, and went back to bed, and asked her what she wanted with me + so early in the morning. She sat down on the bed, and began to overwhelm + me with apologies. I replied by asking her why, if it was her principle to + fly at her lovers like a tiger, she had slept almost in the same room as + myself. + </p> + <p> + “In sleeping in the closet,” said she, “I obeyed my aunt’s orders, and in + striking you (for which I am very sorry) I was but defending my honour; + and I cannot admit that every man who sees me is at liberty to lose his + reason. I think you will allow that your duty is to respect, and mine to + defend, my honour.” + </p> + <p> + “If that is your line of argument, I acknowledge that you are right; but + you had nothing to complain of, for I bore your blow in silence, and by my + leaving the house you might know that it was my intention to respect you + for the future. Did you come to hear me say this? If so, you are + satisfied. But you will not be offended if I laugh at your excuses, for + after what you have said I cannot help thinking them very laughable.” + </p> + <p> + “What have I said?” + </p> + <p> + “That you only did your duty in flattening my nose. If so, do you think it + is necessary to apologize for the performance of duty?” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to have defended myself more gently. But forget everything and + forgive me; I will defend myself no more in any way. I am yours and I love + you, and I am ready to prove my love.” + </p> + <p> + She could not have spoken more plainly, and as she spoke the last words + she fell on me with her face close to mine, which she bedewed with her + tears. I was ashamed of such an easy conquest, and I gently withdrew from + her embrace, telling her to return after the bruise on my face had + disappeared. She left me deeply mortified. + </p> + <p> + The Italian, who had taken half the suite of rooms, had arrived in the + course of the night. I asked his name, and was given a card bearing the + name of The Marquis Don Antonio della Croce. + </p> + <p> + Was it the Croce I knew? + </p> + <p> + It was very possible. + </p> + <p> + I asked what kind of an establishment he had, and was informed that the + marchioness had a lady’s maid, and the marquis a secretary and two + servants. I longed to see the nobleman in question. + </p> + <p> + I had not long to wait, for as soon as he heard that I was his neighbour, + he came to see me, and we spent two hours in telling each other our + adventures since we had parted in Milan. He had heard that I had made the + fortune of the girl he had abandoned, and in the six years that had + elapsed he had been travelling all over Europe, engaged in a constant + strife with fortune. At Paris and Brussels he had made a good deal of + money, and in the latter town he had fallen in love with a young lady of + rank, whom her father had shut up in a convent. He had taken her away, and + she it was whom he called the Marchioness della Croce, now six months with + child. + </p> + <p> + He made her pass for his wife, because, as he said, he meant to marry her + eventually. + </p> + <p> + “I have fifty thousand francs in gold,” said he, “and as much again in + jewellery and various possessions. It is my intention to give suppers here + and hold a bank, but if I play without correcting the freaks of fortune I + am sure to lose.” He intended going to Warsaw, thinking I would give him + introductions to all my friends there; but he made a mistake, and I did + not even introduce him to my Polish friends at Spa. I told him he could + easily make their acquaintance by himself, and that I would neither make + nor mar with him. + </p> + <p> + I accepted his invitation to dinner for the same day. His secretary, as he + called him, was merely his confederate. He was a clever Veronese named + Conti, and his wife was an essential accomplice in Croce’s designs. + </p> + <p> + At noon my friend the hatter came again with the ring, followed by the + owner, who looked like a bravo. They were accompanied by the jeweller and + another individual. The owner asked me once more to lend him two hundred + louis on the ring. + </p> + <p> + My proper course would have been to beg to be excused, then I should have + had no more trouble in the matter; but it was not to be. I wanted to make + him see that the objection he made to having the stone taken out was an + insuperable obstacle to my lending him the money. + </p> + <p> + “When the stone is removed,” said I, “we shall see what it really is. + Listen to my proposal: if it weighs twenty-six grains, I will give you, + not two but three hundred louis, but in its present condition I shall give + nothing at all.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no business to doubt my word; you insult me by doing so.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, I have no intentions of the kind. I simply propose a wager to + you. If the stone be found to weigh twenty-six grains, I shall lose two + hundred Louis, if it weighs much less you will lose the ring.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a scandalous proposal; it’s as much as to tell me that I am a + liar.” + </p> + <p> + I did not like the tone with which these words were spoken, and I went up + to the chest of drawers where I kept my pistols, and bade him go and leave + me in peace. + </p> + <p> + Just then General Roniker came in, and the owner of the ring told him of + the dispute between us. The general looked at the ring, and said to him,— + </p> + <p> + “If anyone were to give me the ring I should not have the stone taken out, + because one should not look a gift horse in the mouth; but if it came to a + question of buying or lending I would not give a crown for it, were the + owner an emperor, before the stone was taken out; and I am very much + surprised at your refusing to let this be done.” + </p> + <p> + Without a word the knave made for the door, and the ring remained in the + hands of my late host. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you give him his ring?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Because I have advanced him fifty Louis on it; but if he does not redeem + it to-morrow I will have the stone taken out before a judge, and + afterwards I shall sell it by auction.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t like the man’s manners, and I hope you will never bring anyone to + my rooms again.” + </p> + <p> + The affair came to the following conclusion: The impostor did not redeem + the ring, and the Liege tradesman had the setting removed. The diamond was + found to be placed on a bed of rock crystal, which formed two-thirds of + the whole bulk. However, the diamond was worth fifty Louis, and an + Englishman bought it. A week afterwards the knave met me as I was walking + by myself, and begged me to follow him to place where we should be free + from observation, as his sword had somewhat to say to mine. Curiously + enough I happened to be wearing my sword at the time. + </p> + <p> + “I will not follow you,” I replied; “the matter can be settled here?” + </p> + <p> + “We are observed.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better. Make haste and draw your sword first.” + </p> + <p> + “The advantage is with you.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, and so it ought to be. If you do not draw I will proclaim you + to be the coward I am sure you are.” + </p> + <p> + At this he drew his sword rapidly and came on, but I was ready to receive + him. He began to fence to try my mettle, but I lunged right at his chest, + and gave him three inches of cold steel. I should have killed him on the + spot if he had not lowered his sword, saying he would take his revenge at + another time. With this he went off, holding his hand to the wound. + </p> + <p> + A score of people were close by, but no one troubled himself about the + wounded man, as he was known to have been the aggressor. The duel had no + further consequences for me. When I left Spa the man was still in the + surgeon’s hands. He was something worse than an adventurer, and all the + French at Spa disowned him. + </p> + <p> + But to return to Croce and his dinner. + </p> + <p> + The marchioness, his wife so-called, was a young lady of sixteen or + seventeen, fair-complexioned and tall, with all the manners of the Belgian + nobility. The history of her escape is well known to her brothers and + sisters, and as her family are still in existence my readers will be + obliged to me for concealing her name. + </p> + <p> + Her husband had told her about me, and she received me in the most + gracious manner possible. She shewed no signs of sadness or of repentance + for the steps she had taken. She was with child for some months, and + seemed to be near her term, owing to the slimness of her figure. + Nevertheless she had the aspect of perfect health. Her countenance + expressed candour and frankness of disposition in a remarkable degree. Her + eyes were large and blue, her complexion a roseate hue, her small sweet + mouth, her perfect teeth made her a beauty worthy of the brush of Albano. + </p> + <p> + I thought myself skilled in physiognomy, and concluded that she was not + only perfectly happy, but also the cause of happiness. But here let me say + how vain a thing it is for anyone to pronounce a man or woman to be happy + or unhappy from a merely cursory inspection. + </p> + <p> + The young marchioness had beautiful ear-rings, and two rings, which gave + me a pretext for admiring the beauty of her hands. + </p> + <p> + Conti’s wife did not cut any figure at all, and I was all eyes for the + marchioness, whose name was Charlotte. I was profoundly impressed by her + that I was quite abstracted during dinner. + </p> + <p> + I sought in vain to discover by what merits Croce had been able to seduce + two such superior women. He was not a fine-looking man, he was not well + educated, his manners were doubtful, and his way of speaking by no means + seductive; in fine, I saw nothing captivating about him, and yet I could + be a witness to his having made two girls leave their homes to follow him. + I lost myself in conjecture; but I had no premonition of what was to + happen in the course of a few weeks. + </p> + <p> + When dinner was over I took Croce apart, and talked seriously to him. I + impressed on him the necessity of circumspect conduct, as in my opinion he + would be for ever infamous if the beautiful woman whom he had seduced was + to become wretched by his fault. + </p> + <p> + “For the future I mean to trust to my skill in play, and thus I am sure of + a comfortable living.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she know that your revenue is fed solely by the purses of dupes?” + </p> + <p> + “She knows that I am a gamester; and as she adores me, her will is as + mine. I am thinking of marrying her at Warsaw before she is confined. If + you are in any want of money, look upon my purse as your own.” + </p> + <p> + I thanked him, and once more pressed on him the duty of exercising extreme + prudence. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, I had no need of money. I had played with moderation, + and my profits amounted to nearly four hundred louis. When the luck turned + against me I was wise enough to turn my back on the board. Although the + bruise that Mercy had given me was still apparent, I escorted the + marchioness to the tables, and there she drew all eyes upon her. She was + fond of piquet, and we played together for small stakes for some time. In + the end she lost twenty crowns to me, and I was forced to take the money + for fear of offending her. + </p> + <p> + When we went back we met Croce and Conti, who had both won—Conti a + score of louis at Faro, and Croce more than a hundred guineas at ‘passe + dix’, which he had been playing at a club of Englishmen. I was more lively + at supper than dinner, and excited Charlotte to laughter by my wit. + </p> + <p> + Henceforth the Poles and the Tomatis only saw me at intervals. I was in + love with the fair marchioness, and everybody said it was very natural. + When a week had elapsed, Croce, finding that the pigeons would not come to + be plucked, despite the suppers he gave, went to the public room, and lost + continually. He was as used to loss as to gain, and his spirits were + unaltered; he was still gay, still ate well and drank better, and caressed + his victim, who had no suspicions of what was going on. + </p> + <p> + I loved her, but did not dare to reveal my passion, fearing lest it should + be unrequited; and I was afraid to tell her of Croce’s losses lest she + should put down my action to some ulterior motive; in fine, I was afraid + to lose the trust she had already begun to place in me. + </p> + <p> + At the end of three weeks Conti, who had played with prudence and success, + left Croce and set out for Verona with his wife and servant. A few days + later Charlotte dismissed her maid, sending her back to Liege, her native + town. + </p> + <p> + Towards the middle of September all the Polish party left the Spa for + Paris, where I promised to rejoin them. I only stayed for Charlotte’s + sake; I foresaw a catastrophe, and I would not abandon her. Every day + Croce lost heavily, and at last he was obliged to sell his jewellery. Then + came Charlotte’s turn; she had to give up her watches, ear-rings, her + rings, and all the jewels she had. He lost everything, but this wonderful + girl was as affectionate as ever. To make a finish he despoiled her of her + lace and her best gowns, and then selling his own wardrobe he went to his + last fight with fortune, provided with two hundred Louis. He played like a + madman, without common-sense or prudence, and lost all. + </p> + <p> + His pockets were empty, and seeing me he beckoned to me, and I followed + him out of the Spa. + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” he began, “I have two alternatives, I can kill myself this + instant or I can fly without returning to the house. I shall embrace the + latter and go to Warsaw on foot, and I leave my wife in your hands, for I + know you adore her. It must be your task to give her the dreadful news of + the pass to which I have come. Have a care of her, she is too good by far + for a poor wretch like me. Take her to Paris and I will write to you there + at your brother’s address. I know you have money, but I would die rather + than accept a single louis from you. I have still two or three pieces + left, and I assure you that I am richer at the present moment than I was + two months ago. Farewell; once more I commend Charlotte to your care; I + would that she had never known me.” + </p> + <p> + With these words he shed tears, and embracing me went his way. I was + stupefied at what lay before me. + </p> + <p> + I had to inform a pregnant woman that the man she dearly loved had + deserted her. The only thought that supported me in that moment was that + it would be done for love of her, and I felt thankful that I had + sufficient means to secure her from privation. + </p> + <p> + I went to the house and told her that we might dine at once, as the + marquis would be engaged till the evening. She sighed, wished him luck, + and we proceeded to dine. I disguised my emotions so well that she + conceived no suspicion. After the meal was over, I asked her to walk with + me in the garden of the Capuchin Monastery, which was close at hand. To + prepare her for the fatal news I asked her if she would approve of her + lover exposing himself to assassination for the sake of bidding adieu to + her rather than making his escape. + </p> + <p> + “I should blame him for doing so,” she replied. “He ought to escape by all + means, if only to save his life for my sake. Has my husband done so? Speak + openly to me. My spirit is strong enough to resist even so fatal a blow, + for I know I have a friend in you. Speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will tell you all. But first of all remember this; you must look + upon me as a tender father who will never let you want, so long as life + remains to him.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case I cannot be called unfortunate, for I have a true friend. + Say on.” + </p> + <p> + I told all that Croce had told me, not omitting his last words: “I commend + Charlotte to your care; I would that she had never known me.” + </p> + <p> + For a few minutes she remained motionless, as one turned into stone. By + her attitude, by her laboured and unequal breath, I could divine somewhat + of the battle between love, and anger, and sorrow, and pity, that was + raging in the noble breast. I was cut to the heart. At last she wiped away + the big tears that began to trickle down her cheeks, and turning to me + sighed and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Dear friend, since I can count on you, I am far indeed from utter + misery.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you, Charlotte, that I will never leave you till I place you + again in your husband’s hands, provided I do not die before.” + </p> + <p> + “That is enough. I swear eternal gratitude, and to be as submissive to you + as a good daughter ought to be.” + </p> + <p> + The religion and philosophy with which her heart and mind were fortified, + though she made no parade of either, began to calm her spirit, and she + proceeded to make some reflections on Croce’s unhappy lot, but all in pity + not in anger, excusing his inveterate passion for play. She had often + heard from Croce’s lips the story of the Marseilles girl whom he had left + penniless in an inn at Milan, commending her to my care. She thought it + something wonderful that I should again be intervening as the tutelary + genius; but her situation was much the worse, for she was with child. + </p> + <p> + “There’s another difference,” I added, “for I made the fortune of the + first by finding her an honest husband, whereas I should never have the + courage to adopt the same method with the second.” + </p> + <p> + “While Croce lives I am no man’s wife but his, nevertheless I am glad to + find myself free.” + </p> + <p> + When we were back in the house, I advised her to send away the servant and + to pay his journey to Besanion, where she had taken him. Thus all + unpleasantness would be avoided. I made her sell all that remained of her + poor lover’s wardrobe, as also his carriage, for mine was a better one. + She shewed me all she had left, which only amounted to some sets of linen + and three or four dresses. + </p> + <p> + We remained at Spa without going out of doors. She could see that my love + was a tenderer passion than the love of a father, and she told me so, and + that she was obliged to me for the respect with which I treated her. We + sat together for hours, she folded in my arms, whilst I gently kissed her + beautiful eyes, and asked no more. I was happy in her gratitude and in my + powers of self-restraint. When temptation was too strong I left the + beautiful girl till I was myself again, and such conquests made me proud. + In the affection between us there was somewhat of the purity of a man’s + first love. + </p> + <p> + I wanted a small travelling cap, and the servant of the house went to my + former lodging to order one. Mercy brought several for me to choose from. + She blushed when she saw me, but I said nothing to her. When she had gone + I told Charlotte the whole story, and she laughed with all her heart when + I reminded her of the bruise on my face when we first met, and informed + her that Mercy had given it me. She praised my firmness in rejecting her + repentance, and agreed with me in thinking that the whole plan had been + concerted between her and her aunt. + </p> + <p> + We left Spa without any servant, and when we reached Liege we took the way + of the Ardennes, as she was afraid of being recognized if we passed + through Brussels. At Luxemburg we engaged a servant, who attended on us + till we reached Paris. All the way Charlotte was tender and affectionate, + but her condition prescribed limits to her love, and I could only look + forward to the time after her delivery. We got down at Paris at the “Hotel + Montmorenci,” in the street of the same name. + </p> + <p> + Paris struck me quite as a new place. Madame d’Urfe was dead, my friends + had changed their houses and their fortunes; the poor had become rich and + the rich poor, new streets and buildings were rising on all sides; I + hardly knew my way about the town. Everything was dearer; poverty was + rampant, and luxury at it highest pitch. Perhaps Paris is the only city + where so great a change could take place in the course of five or six + years. + </p> + <p> + The first call I made was on Madame du Rumain, who was delighted to see + me. I repaid her the money she had so kindly lent me in the time of my + distress. She was well in health, but harassed by so many anxieties and + private troubles that she said Providence must have sent me to her to + relieve her of all her griefs by my cabala. I told her that I would wait + on her at any hour or hours; and this, indeed, was the least I could do + for the woman who had been so kind to me. + </p> + <p> + My brother had gone to live in the Faubourg St. Antoine. Both he and his + wife (who remained constant to him, despite his physical disability) were + overjoyed to see me, and entreated me to come and stop with them. I told + them I should be glad to do so, as soon as the lady who had travelled with + me had got over her confinement. I did not think proper to tell them her + story, and they had the delicacy to refrain from questioning me on the + subject. The same day I called on Princess Lubomirska and Tomatis, begging + them not to take it amiss if my visits were few and far between, as the + lady they had seen at Spa was approaching her confinement, and demanded + all my care. + </p> + <p> + After the discharge of these duties I remained constantly by Charlotte’s + side. On October 8th I thought it would be well to take her to Madame + Lamarre, a midwife, who lived in the Faubourg St. Denis, and Charlotte was + of the same opinion. We went together, she saw the room, the bed, and + heard how she would be tended and looked after, for all of which I would + pay. At nightfall we drove to the place, with a trunk containing all her + effects. + </p> + <p> + As we were leaving the Rue Montmorenci our carriage was obliged to stop to + allow the funeral of some rich man to go by. Charlotte covered her face + with her handkerchief, and whispered in my ear, “Dearest, I know it is a + foolish superstition, but to a woman in my condition such a meeting is of + evil omen.” + </p> + <p> + “What, Charlotte! I thought you were too wise to have such silly fears. A + woman in child-bed is not a sick woman, and no woman ever died of giving + birth to a child except some other disease intervened.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear philosopher, it is like a duel; there are two men in perfect + health, when all of a sudden there comes a sword-thrust, and one of them + is dead.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a witty idea. But bid all gloomy thoughts go by, and after your + child is born, and we have placed it in good hands, you shall come with me + to Madrid, and there I hope to see you happy and contented.” + </p> + <p> + All the way I did my best to cheer her, for I knew only too well the fatal + effects of melancholy on a pregnant woman, especially in such a delicate + girl as Charlotte. + </p> + <p> + When I saw her completely settled I returned to the hotel, and the next + day I took up my quarters with my brother. However, as long as my + Charlotte lived, I only slept at his house, for from nine in the morning + till after midnight I was with my dear. + </p> + <p> + On October 13th Charlotte was attacked with a fever which never left her. + On the 17th she was happily delivered of a boy, which was immediately + taken to the church and baptized at the express wishes of the mother. + Charlotte wrote down what its name was to be—Jacques (after me), + Charles (after her), son of Antonio della Croce and of Charlotte de (she + gave her real name). When it was brought from the church she told Madame + Lamarre to carry it to the Foundling Hospital, with the certificate of + baptism in its linen. I vainly endeavoured to persuade her to leave the + care of the child to me. She said that if it lived the father could easily + reclaim it. On the same day, October 18th, the midwife gave me the + following certificate, which I still possess: + </p> + <p> + It was worded as follows: + </p> + <p> + “We, J. B. Dorival, Councillor to the King, Commissary of the Chatelet, + formerly Superintendent of Police in the City of Paris, do certify that + there has been taken to the Hospital for Children a male infant, appearing + to be one day old, brought from the Faubourg St. Denis by the midwife + Lamarre, and bearing a certificate of baptism to the effect that its name + is Jacques Charles, son of Antonio della Croce and of Charlotte de——. + Wherefore, we have delivered the above certificate at our office in the + City of Paris, this 18th day of October, in the year of our Lord, 1767, at + seven o’clock in the afternoon. + </p> + <center> + “DORIVAL.” + </center> + <p> + If any of my readers have any curiosity to know the real name of the + mother, I have given them the means of satisfying it. + </p> + <p> + After this I did not leave the bed of the invalid for a single instant. In + spite of all the doctor’s care the fever increased, and at five o’clock in + the morning of October 26th, she succumbed to it. An hour before she + sighed her last, she bade me the last farewell in the presence of the + venerable ecclesiastic who had confessed her at midnight. The tears which + gather fast as I write these words are probably the last honours I shall + pay to this poor victim of a man who is still alive, and whose destiny + seemed to be to make women unhappy. + </p> + <p> + I sat weeping by the bed of her I loved so dearly, and in vain Madame + Lamarre tried to induce me to come and sit with her. I loved the poor + corpse better than all the world outside. + </p> + <p> + At noon my brother and his wife came to see me; they had not seen me for a + week, and were getting anxious. They saw the body lovely in death; they + understood my tears, and mingled theirs with mine. At last I asked them to + leave me, and I remained all night by Charlotte’s bed, resolved not to + leave it till her body had been consigned to the grave. + </p> + <p> + The day before this morning of unhappy memory my brother had given me + several letters, but I had not opened any of them. On my return from the + funeral I proceeded to do so, and the first one was from M. Dandolo, + announcing the death of M. de Bragadin; but I could not weep. For + twenty-two years M. de Bragadin had been as a father to me, living poorly, + and even going into debt that I might have enough. He could not leave me + anything, as his property was entailed, while his furniture and his + library would become the prey of his creditors. His two friends, who were + my friends also, were poor, and could give me nothing but their love. The + dreadful news was accompanied by a bill of exchange for a thousand crowns, + which he had sent me twenty-four hours before his death, foreseeing that + it would be the last gift he would ever make me. + </p> + <p> + I was overwhelmed, and thought that Fortune had done her worst to me. + </p> + <p> + I spent three days in my brother’s house without going out. On the fourth + I began to pay an assiduous court to Princess Lubomirska, who had written + the king, her brother, a letter that must have mortified him, as she + proved beyond a doubt that the tales he had listened to against me were + mere calumny. But your kings do not allow so small a thing to vex or + mortify them. Besides, Stanislas Augustus had just received a dreadful + insult from Russia. Repnin’s violence in kidnapping the three senators who + had spoken their minds at the Diet was a blow which must have pierced the + hapless king to the heart. + </p> + <p> + The princess had left Warsaw more from hatred than love; though such was + not the general opinion. As I had decided to visit the Court of Madrid + before going to Portugal, the princess gave me a letter of introduction to + the powerful Count of Aranda; and the Marquis Caraccioli, who was still at + Paris, gave me three letters, one for Prince de la Catolica, the + Neapolitan ambassador at Madrid, one for the Duke of Lossada, the king’s + favourite and lord high steward, and a third for the Marquis Mora + Pignatelli. + </p> + <p> + On November 4th I went to a concert with a ticket that the princess had + given me. When the concert was half-way through I heard my name + pronounced, accompanied by scornful laughter. I turned round and saw the + gentleman who was speaking contemptuously of me. It was a tall young man + sitting between two men advanced in years. I stared him in the face, but + he turned his head away and continued his impertinencies, saying, amongst + other things, that I had robbed him of a million francs at least by my + swindling his late aunt, the Marchioness d’Urfe. + </p> + <p> + “You are an impudent liar,” I said to him, “and if we were out of this + room I would give you a kick to teach you to speak respectfully.” + </p> + <p> + With these words I made my way out of the hall, and on turning my head + round I saw that the two elderly men were keeping the young blockhead + back. I got into my carriage and waited some time, and as he did not come + I drove to the theatre and chanced to find myself in the same box as + Madame Valville. She informed me that she had left the boards, and was + kept by the Marquis the Brunel. + </p> + <p> + “I congratulate you, and wish you good luck.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you will come to supper at my house.” + </p> + <p> + “I should be only too happy, but unfortunately I have an engagement; but I + will come and see you if you will give me your address.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, I slipped into her hand a rouleau, it being the fifty louis I + owed her. + </p> + <p> + “What is this?” + </p> + <p> + “The money you lent me so kindly at Konigsberg.” + </p> + <p> + “This is neither the time nor the place to return it. I will only take it + at my own house, so please do not insist.” + </p> + <p> + I put the money back into my pocket, she gave me her address, and I left + her. I felt too sad to visit her alone. + </p> + <p> + Two days later, as I was at table with my brother, my sister-in-law, and + some young Russians whom he was teaching to paint, I was told that a + Chevalier of St. Louis wanted to speak to me in the antechamber. I went + out, and he handed me a paper without making any preface. I opened the + document, and found it was signed “Louis.” The great king ordered me to + leave Paris in twenty-four hours and his realm of France within three + weeks, and the reason assigned was: “It is our good pleasure.” + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0003" id="linkF2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Departure From Paris—My Journey to Madrid—The Count of + Aranda—The Prince de la Catolica—The Duke of Lossada— + Mengs—A Ball—Madame Pichona—Donna Ignazia +</pre> + <p> + “Well, chevalier,” I said, “I have read the little note, and I will try + and oblige his majesty as soon as possible. However, if I have not time to + get away in twenty-four hours, his majesty must work his dread will on + me.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, the twenty-four hours are a mere formality. Subscribe the + order and give me a receipt for the lettre de cachet, and you can go at + your convenience. All I ask of you is that you give me your word of honour + not to go to the theatres or public places of amusement on foot.” + </p> + <p> + “I give you my word with pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + I took the chevalier to my room and gave him the necessary acknowledgment, + and with the observation that he would be glad to see my brother, whom he + knew already, I led him into the dining-room, and explained with a + cheerful face the purport of his visit. + </p> + <p> + My brother laughed and said,— + </p> + <p> + “But, M. Buhot, this news is like March in Lent, it was quite unnecessary; + my brother was going in the course of a week.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better. If the minister had been aware of that he would not have + troubled himself about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the reason known?” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard something about a proposal to kick a gentleman, who though + young, is too exalted a person to be spoken to in such a manner.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, chevalier,” said I, “the phrase is a mere formality like the + twenty-four hours for if the impudent young rascal had come out he would + have met me, and his sword should have been sufficient to ward off any + kicks.” + </p> + <p> + I then told the whole story, and Buhot agreed that I was in the right + throughout; adding that the police were also in the right to prevent any + encounter between us. He advised me to go next morning and tell the tale + to M. de Sartine, who knew me, and would be glad to have the account from + my own lips. I said nothing, as I knew the famous superintendent of police + to be a dreadful sermoniser. + </p> + <p> + The lettre de cachet was dated November 6th, and I did not leave Paris + till the 20th. + </p> + <p> + I informed all my friends of the great honour his majesty had done me, and + I would not hear of Madame du Rumain appealing to the king on my behalf, + though she said she felt certain she could get the order revoked. The Duc + de Choiseul gave me a posting passport dated November 19th, which I still + preserve. + </p> + <p> + I left Paris without any servant, still grieving, though quietly, over + Charlotte’s fate. I had a hundred Louis in cash, and a bill of exchange on + Bordeaux for eight thousand francs. I enjoyed perfect health, and almost + felt as if I had been rejuvenated. I had need of the utmost prudence and + discretion for the future. The deaths of M. de Bragadin and Madame d’Urfe + had left me alone in the world, and I was slowly but steadily approaching + what is called a certain age, when women begin to look on a man with + coldness. + </p> + <p> + I only called on Madame Valville on the eve of my departure: and found her + in a richly-furnished house, and her casket well filled with diamonds. + When I proposed to return her the fifty louis, she asked me if I had got a + thousand; and on learning that I had only five hundred she refused the + money absolutely and offered me her purse, which I in my turn refused. I + have not seen the excellent creature since then, but before I left I gave + her some excellent advice as to the necessity of saving her gains for the + time of her old age, when her charms would be no more. I hope she has + profited by my counsel. I bade farewell to my brother and my sister-in-law + at six o’clock in the evening, and got into my chaise in the moonlight, + intending to travel all night so as to dine next day at Orleans, where I + wanted to see an old friend. In half an hour I was at Bourg-la-Reine, and + there I began to fall asleep. At seven in the morning I reached Orleans. + </p> + <p> + Fair and beloved France, that went so well in those days, despite lettres + de cachet, despite corvees, despite the people’s misery and the king’s + “good pleasure,” dear France, where art thou now? Thy sovereign is the + people now, the most brutal and tyrannical sovereign in the world. You + have no longer to bear the “good pleasure” of the sovereign, but you have + to endure the whims of the mob and the fancies of the Republic—the + ruin of all good Government. A republic presupposes self-denial and a + virtuous people; it cannot endure long in our selfish and luxurious days. + </p> + <p> + I went to see Bodin, a dancer, who had married Madame Joffroy, one of my + thousand mistresses whom I had loved twenty-two years ago, and had seen + later at Turin, Paris, and Vienna. These meetings with old friends and + sweethearts were always a weak or rather a strong point with me. For a + moment I seemed to be young again, and I fed once more on the delights of + long ago. Repentance was no part of my composition. + </p> + <p> + Bodin and his wife (who was rather ugly than old-looking, and had become + pious to suit her husband’s tastes, thus giving to God the devil’s + leavings), Bodin, I say, lived on a small estate he had purchased, and + attributed all the agricultural misfortunes he met with in the course of + the year to the wrath of an avenging Deity. + </p> + <p> + I had a fasting dinner with them, for it was Friday, and they strictly + observed all the rules of the Church. I told them of my adventures of the + past years, and when I had finished they proceeded to make reflections on + the faults and failings of men who have not God for a guide. They told me + what I knew already: that I had an immortal soul, that there was a God + that judgeth righteously, and that it was high time for me to take example + by them, and to renounce all the pomps and vanities of the world. + </p> + <p> + “And turn Capuchin, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “You might do much worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; but I shall wait till my beard grows the necessary length in a + single night.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of their silliness, I was not sorry to have spent six hours with + these good creatures who seemed sincerely repentant and happy in their + way, and after an affectionate embrace I took leave of them and travelled + all night. I stopped at Chanteloup to see the monument of the taste and + magnificence of the Duc de Choiseul, and spent twenty-four hours there. A + gentlemanly and polished individual, who did not know me, and for whom I + had no introduction, lodged me in a fine suite of rooms, gave me supper, + and would only sit down to table with me after I had used all my powers of + persuasion. The next day he treated me in the same way, gave me an + excellent dinner, shewed me everything, and behaved as if I were some + prince, though he did not even ask my name. His attentions even extended + to seeing that none of his servants were at hand when I got into my + carriage and drove off. This was to prevent my giving money to any of + them. + </p> + <p> + The castle on which the Duc de Choiseul had spent such immense sums had in + reality cost him nothing. It was all owing, but he did not trouble himself + about that in the slightest degree, as he was a sworn foe to the principle + of meum and tuum. He never paid his creditors, and never disturbed his + debtors. He was a generous man; a lover of art and artists, to whom he + liked to be of service, and what they did for him he looked upon as a + grateful offering. He was intellectual, but a hater of all detail and + minute research, being of a naturally indolent and procrastinating + disposition. His favourite saying was, + </p> + <p> + “There’s time enough for that.” + </p> + <p> + When I got to Poitiers, I wanted to push on to Vivonne; it was seven + o’clock in the evening, and two girls endeavoured to dissuade me from this + course. + </p> + <p> + “It’s very cold,” said they, “and the road is none of the best. You are no + courier, sup here, we will give you a good bed, and you shall start again + in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I have made up my mind to go on, but if you will keep me company at + supper I will stay.” + </p> + <p> + “That would cost you too dearly.” + </p> + <p> + “Never too dear. Quick I make up your minds.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we will sup with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then lay the table for three; I must go on in an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “In an hour! You mean three, sir; papa will take two hours to get you a + good supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will not go on, but you must keep me company all night.” + </p> + <p> + “We will do so, if papa does not object. We will have your chaise put into + the coach-house.” + </p> + <p> + These two minxes gave me an excellent supper, and were a match for me in + drinking as well as eating. The wine was delicious, and we stayed at table + till midnight, laughing and joking together, though without overstepping + the bounds of propriety. + </p> + <p> + About midnight, the father came in jovially, and asked me how I had + enjoyed my supper. + </p> + <p> + “Very much,” I answered, “but I have enjoyed still more the company of + your charming daughters.” + </p> + <p> + “I am delighted to hear it. Whenever you come this way they shall keep you + company, but now it is past midnight, and time for them to go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded my head, for Charlotte’s death was still too fresh in my memory + to admit of my indulging in any voluptuous pleasures. I wished the girls a + pleasant sleep, and I do not think I should even have kissed them if the + father had not urged me to do this honour to their charms. However, my + vanity made me put some fire into the embrace, and I have no doubt they + thought me a prey to vain desires. + </p> + <p> + When I was alone I reflected that if I did not forget Charlotte I was a + lost man. I slept till nine o’clock, and I told the servant that came to + light my fire to get coffee for three, and to have my horses put in. + </p> + <p> + The two pretty girls came to breakfast with me, and I thanked them for + having made me stay the night. I asked for the bill, and the eldest said + it was in round figures a Louis apiece. I shewed no sign of anger at this + outrageous fleecing, but gave them three Louis with the best grace + imaginable and went on my way. When I reached Angouleme, where I expected + to find Noel, the King of Prussia’s cook, I only found his father, whose + talents in the matter of pates was something prodigious. His eloquence was + as fervent as his ovens. He said he would send his pates all over Europe + to any address I liked to give him. + </p> + <p> + “What! To Venice, London, Warsaw, St. Petersburg?” + </p> + <p> + “To Constantinople, if you like. You need only give me your address, and + you need not pay me till you get the pates.” + </p> + <p> + I sent his pates to my friends in Venice, Warsaw, and Turin, and everybody + thanked me for the delicious dish. + </p> + <p> + Noel had made quite a fortune. He assured me he had sent large + consignments to America, and with the exception of some losses by + shipwreck all the pates had arrived in excellent condition. They were + chiefly made of turkeys, partridges, and hare, seasoned with truffles, but + he also made pates de foie gras of larks and of thrushes, according to the + season. + </p> + <p> + In two days I arrived at Bordeaux, a beautiful town coming only second to + Paris, with respect to Lyons be it said. I spent a week there, eating and + drinking of the best, for the living there is the choicest in the world. + </p> + <p> + I transferred my bill of exchange for eight thousand francs to a Madrid + house, and crossed the Landes, passing by Mont de Marsan, Bayonne, and St. + Jean de Luz, where I sold my post-chaise. From St. Jean de Luz I went to + Pampeluna by way of the Pyrenees, which I crossed on mule-back, my baggage + being carried by another mule. The mountains struck me as higher than the + Alps. In this I may possibly be wrong, but I am certain that the Pyrenees + are the most picturesque, fertile, and agreeable of the two. + </p> + <p> + At Pampeluna a man named Andrea Capello took charge of me and my luggage, + and we set out for Madrid. For the first twenty leagues the travelling was + easy enough, and the roads as good as any in France. These roads did + honour to the memory of M. de Gages, who had administered Navarre after + the Italian war, and had, as I was assured, made the road at his own + expense. Twenty years earlier I had been arrested by this famous general; + but he had established a claim on posterity greater than any of his + victories. These laurels were dyed in blood, but the maker of a good road + is a solid benefactor of all posterity. + </p> + <p> + In time this road came to an end, and thenceforth it would be incorrect to + say that the roads were bad, for, to tell the truth, there were no roads + at all. There were steep ascents and violent descents, but no traces of + carriage wheels, and so it is throughout the whole of Old Castile. There + are no good inns, only miserable dens scarce good enough for the + muleteers, who make their beds beside their animals. Signor or rather + Senor Andrea tried to choose the least wretched inns for me, and after + having provided for the mules he would go round the entire village to get + something for me to eat. The landlord would not stir; he shewed me a room + where I could sleep if I liked, containing a fire-place, in which I could + light a fire if I thought fit, but as to procuring firewood or provisions, + he left that all to me. Wretched Spain! + </p> + <p> + The sum asked for a night’s accommodation was less than a farmer would ask + in France or Germany for leave to sleep in his barn; but there was always + an extra charge of a ‘pizetta por el ruido’. The pizetta is worth four + reals; about twenty-one French sous. + </p> + <p> + The landlord smoked his paper cigarette nonchalantly enough, blowing + clouds of smoke into the air with immense dignity. To him poverty was as + good as riches; his wants were small, and his means sufficed for them. In + no country in Europe do the lower orders live so contentedly on a very + little as in Spain. Two ounces of white bread, a handful of roast + chestnuts or acorns (called bellotas in Spanish) suffice to keep a + Spaniard for a day. It is his glory to say when a stranger is departing + from his abode,— + </p> + <p> + “I have not given myself any trouble in waiting on him.” + </p> + <p> + This proceeds in part from idleness and in part from Castilian pride. A + Castilian should not lower himself, they say, by attending on a Gavacho, + by which name the Spaniards know the French, and, indeed, all foreigners. + It is not so offensive as the Turkish appellation of dog, or the damned + foreigner of the English. Of course, persons who have travelled or have + had a liberal education do not speak in this way, and a respectable + foreigner will find reasonable Spaniards as he will find reasonable Turks + and Englishmen. + </p> + <p> + On the second night of my journey I slept at Agreda, a small and ugly + town, or rather village. There Sister Marie d’Agreda became so crazy as to + write a life of the Virgin, which she affirmed to have been dictated to + her by the Mother of the Lord. The State Inquisitors had given me this + work to read when I was under the Leads, and it had nearly driven me mad. + </p> + <p> + We did ten Spanish leagues a day, and long and weary leagues they seemed + to me. One morning I thought I saw a dozen Capuchins walking slowly in + front of us, but when we caught them up I found they were women of all + ages. + </p> + <p> + “Are they mad?” I said to Senior Andrea. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. They wear the Capuchin habit out of devotion, and you would + not find a chemise on one of them.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing surprising in their not having chemises, for the chemise + is a scarce article in Spain, but the idea of pleasing God by wearing a + Capuchin’s habit struck me as extremely odd. I will here relate an amusing + adventure which befell me on my way. + </p> + <p> + At the gate of a town not far from Madrid I was asked for my passport. I + handed it over, and got down to amuse myself. I found the chief of the + customs’ house engaged in an argument with a foreign priest who was on his + way to Madrid, and had no passport for the capital. He shewed one he had + had for Bilbao, but the official was not satisfied. The priest was a + Sicilian, and I asked him why he had exposed himself to being placed in + this disagreeable predicament. He said he thought it was unnecessary to + have a passport in Spain when one had once journeyed in the country. + </p> + <p> + “I want to go to Madrid,” said he to me, “and hope to obtain a chaplaincy + in the house of a grandee. I have a letter for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Shew it; they will let you pass then.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right.” + </p> + <p> + The poor priest drew out the letter and shewed it to the official, who + opened it, looked at the signature, and absolutely shrieked when he saw + the name Squillace. + </p> + <p> + “What, senor abbe! you are going to Madrid with a letter from Squillace, + and you dare to shew it?” + </p> + <p> + The clerks, constables, and hangers-on, hearing that the hated Squillace, + who would have been stoned to death if it had not been for the king’s + protection, was the poor abbe’s only patron, began to beat him violently, + much to the poor Sicilian’s astonishment. + </p> + <p> + I interposed, however, and after some trouble I succeeded in rescuing the + priest, who was then allowed to pass, as I believe, as a set-off against + the blows he had received. + </p> + <p> + Squillace was sent to Venice as Spanish ambassador, and in Venice he died + at an advanced age. He was a man designed to be an object of intense + hatred to the people; he was simply ruthless in his taxation. + </p> + <p> + The door of my room had a lock on the outside but none on the inside. For + the first and second night I let it pass, but on the third I told Senor + Andrea that I must have it altered. + </p> + <p> + “Senor Don Jacob, you must bear with it in Spain, for the Holy Inquisition + must always be at liberty to inspect the rooms of foreigners.” + </p> + <p> + “But what in the devil’s name does your cursed Inquisition want . . . ?” + </p> + <p> + “For the love of God, Senor Jacob, speak not thus! if you were overheard + we should both be undone.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what can the Holy Inquisition want to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything. It wants to know whether you eat meat on fast days, whether + persons of opposite sexes sleep together, if so, whether they are married, + and if not married it will cause both parties to be imprisoned; in fine, + Senor Don Jaime, the Holy inquisition is continually watching over our + souls in this country.” + </p> + <p> + When we met a priest bearing the viaticum to some sick man, Senor Andrea + would tell me imperatively to get out of my carriage, and then there was + no choice but to kneel in the mud or dust as the case might be. The chief + subject of dispute at that time was the fashion of wearing breeches. Those + who wore ‘braguettes’ were imprisoned, and all tailors making breeches + with ‘braguettes’ were severely punished. Nevertheless, people persisted + in wearing them, and the priests and monks preached in vain against the + indecency of such a habit. A revolution seemed imminent, but the matter + was happily settled without effusion of blood. An edict was published and + affixed to the doors of all the churches, in which it was declared that + breeches with braguettes were only to be worn by the public hangmen. Then + the fashion passed away; for no one cared to pass for the public + executioner. + </p> + <p> + By little and little I got an insight into the manners of the Spanish + nation as I passed through Guadalaxara and Alcala, and at length arrived + at Madrid. + </p> + <p> + Guadalaxara, or Guadalajara, is pronounced by the Spaniards with a strong + aspirate, the x and j having the same force. The vowel d, the queen of + letters, reigns supreme in Spain; it is a relic of the old Moorish + language. Everyone knows that the Arabic abounds in d’s, and perhaps the + philologists are right in calling it the most ancient of languages, since + the a is the most natural and easy to pronounce of all the letters. It + seems to me very mistaken to call such words as Achald, Ayanda, Almanda, + Acard, Agracaramba, Alcantara, etc., barbarous, for the sonorous ring with + which they are pronounced renders the Castilian the richest of all modern + languages. Spanish is undoubtedly one of the finest, most energetic, and + most majestic languages in the world. When it is pronounced ‘ore rotundo’ + it is susceptible of the most poetic harmony. It would be superior to the + Italian, if it were not for the three guttural letters, in spite of what + the Spaniards say to the contrary. It is no good remonstrating with them. + </p> + <p> + ‘Quisquis amat ranam, ranam purat esse Dianam’. + </p> + <p> + As I was entering the Gate of Alcala, my luggage was searched, and the + clerks paid the greatest attention to my books, and they were very + disappointed only to find the “Iliad” in Greek, and a Latin Horace. They + were taken away, but three days after, they were returned to me at my + lodging in the Rue de la Croix where I had gone in spite of Senor Andrea, + who had wanted to take me elsewhere. A worthy man whom I had met in + Bordeaux had given me the address. One of the ceremonies I had to undergo + at the Gate of Alcala displeased me in the highest degree. A clerk asked + me for a pinch of snuff, so I took out my snuff-box and gave it him, but + instead of taking a pinch he snatched it out of my hands and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Senor, this snuff will not pass in Spain” (it was French rappee); and + after turning it out on the ground he gave me back the box. + </p> + <p> + The authorities are most rigorous on the matter of this innocent powder, + and in consequence an immense contraband trade is carried on. The spies + employed by the Spanish snuff-makers are always on the look-out after + foreign snuff, and if they detect anyone carrying it they make him pay + dearly for the luxury. The ambassadors of foreign powers are the only + persons exempted from the prohibitions. The king who stuffs into his + enormous nose one enormous pinch as he rises in the morning wills that all + his subjects buy their snuff of the Spanish manufacturers. When Spanish + snuff is pure it is very good, but at the time I was in Spain the genuine + article could hardly be bought for its weight in gold. By reason of the + natural inclination towards forbidden fruit, the Spaniards are extremely + fond of foreign snuff, and care little for their own; thus snuff is + smuggled to an enormous extent. + </p> + <p> + My lodging was comfortable enough, but I felt the want of a fire as the + cold was more trying than that of Paris, in spite of the southern + latitude. The cause of this cold is that Madrid is the highest town in + Europe. From whatever part of the coast one starts, one has to mount to + reach the capital. The town is also surrounded by mountains and hills, so + that the slightest touch of wind from the north makes the cold intense. + The air of Madrid is not healthy for strangers, especially for those of a + full habit of body; the Spaniards it suits well enough, for they are dry + and thin, and wear a cloak even in the dog days. + </p> + <p> + The men of Spain dwell mentally in a limited horizon, bounded by prejudice + on every side; but the women, though ignorant, are usually intelligent; + while both sexes are the prey of desires, as lively as their native air, + as burning as the sun that shines on them. Every Spaniard hates a + foreigner, simply because he is a foreigner, but the women avenge us by + loving us, though with great precautions, for your Spaniard is intensely + jealous. They watch most jealously over the honour of their wives and + daughters. As a rule the men are ugly, though there are numerous + exceptions; while the women are pretty, and beauties are not uncommon. The + southern blood in their veins inclines them to love, and they are always + ready to enter into an intrigue and to deceive the spies by whom they are + surrounded. The lover who runs the greatest dangers is always the + favourite. In the public walks, the churches, the theatres, the Spanish + women are always speaking the language of the eyes. If the person to whom + it is addressed knows how to seize the instant, he may be sure of success, + but if not, the opportunity will never be offered him again. + </p> + <p> + I required some kind of heat in my room, and could not bear a charcoal + brazier, so I incited an ingenious tin-smith to make me a stove with a + pipe going out of the window. However, he was so proud of his success that + he made me pay dearly. + </p> + <p> + Before the stove was ready I was told where I might go and warm myself an + hour before noon, and stay till dinner-time. It is called La Pueyta del + Sol, “The Gate of the Sun.” It is not a gate, but it takes its name from + the manner in which the source of all heat lavishes his treasures there, + and warms all who come and bask in his rays. I found a numerous company + promenading there, walking and talking, but it was not much to my taste. + </p> + <p> + I wanted a servant who could speak French, and I had the greatest + difficulty in getting one, and had to pay dearly, for in Madrid the kind + of man I wanted was called a page. I could not compel him to mount behind + my carriage, nor to carry a package, nor to light me by night with a torch + or lantern. + </p> + <p> + My page was a man of thirty, and terribly ugly; but this was a + recommendation, as his ugliness secured him from the jealous suspicions of + husbands. A woman of rank will not drive out without one of these pages + seated in the forepart of her carriage. They are said to be more difficult + to seduce than the strictest of duennas. + </p> + <p> + I was obliged to take one of these rascally tribe into my service, and I + wish he had broken his leg on his way to my house. + </p> + <p> + I delivered all my introductions, beginning with the letter from Princess + Lubomirska to the Count of Aranda. The count had covered himself with + glory by driving the Jesuits out of Spain. He was more powerful than the + king himself, and never went out without a number of the royal guardsmen + about him, whom he made to sit down at his table. Of course all the + Spaniards hated him, but he did not seem to care much for that. A profound + politician, and absolutely resolute and firm, he privately indulged in + every luxury that he forbade to others, and did not care whether people + talked of it or not. + </p> + <p> + He was a rather ugly man, with a disagreeable squint. His reception of me + was far from cordial. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want in Spain?” he began. + </p> + <p> + “To add fresh treasures to my store of experience, by observing the + manners and the customs of the country, and if possible to serve the + Government with such feeble talents as I may possess.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you have no need of my protection. If you do not infringe the laws, + no one will disturb you. As to your obtaining employment, you had better + go to the representative of your country; he will introduce you at Court, + and make you known.” + </p> + <p> + “My lord, the Venetian ambassador will do nothing for me; I am in disgrace + with the Government. He will not even receive me at the embassy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I would advise you to give up all hopes of employment, for the king + would begin by asking your ambassador about you, and his answer would be + fatal. You will do well to be satisfied with amusing yourself.” + </p> + <p> + After this I called on the Neapolitan ambassador, who talked in much the + same way. Even the Marquis of Moras, one of the most pleasant men in + Spain, did not hold out any hopes. The Duke of Lossada, the high steward + and favourite of his Catholic majesty, was sorry to be disabled from doing + me any service, in spite of his good will, and advised me, in some way or + other, to get the Venetian ambassador to give me a good word, in spite of + my disgrace. I determined to follow his advice, and wrote to M. Dandolo, + begging him to get the ambassador to favour me at the Spanish Court in + spite of my quarrel with the Venetian Government. I worded my letter in + such a way that it might be read by the Inquisitors themselves, and + calculated on its producing a good impression. + </p> + <p> + After I had written this letter I went to the lodging of the Venetian + ambassador, and presented myself to the secretary, Gaspar Soderini, a + worthy and intelligent man. Nevertheless, he dared to tell me that he was + astonished at my hardihood in presenting myself at the embassy. + </p> + <p> + “I have presented myself, sir, that my enemies may never reproach me for + not having done so; I am not aware that I have ever done anything which + makes me too infamous to call on my ambassador. I should have credited + myself with much greater hardihood if I had left without fulfilling this + duty; but I shall be sorry if the ambassador views my proceedings in the + same light as yourself, and puts down to temerity what was meant for a + mark of respect. I shall be none the less astonished if his excellency + refuses to receive me on account of a private quarrel between myself and + the State Inquisitors, of which he knows no more than I do, and I know + nothing. You will excuse my saying that he is not the ambassador of the + State Inquisitors, but of the Republic of which I am a subject; for I defy + him and I defy the Inquisitors to tell me what crime I have committed that + I am to be deprived of my rights as a Venetian citizen. I think that, + while it is my duty to reverence my prince in the person of my ambassador, + it is his duty to afford me his protection.” + </p> + <p> + This speech had made Soderini blush, and he replied,— + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you write a letter to the ambassador, with the arguments you + have just used to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I could not write to him before I know whether he will receive me or not. + But now, as I have reason to suppose that his opinions are much the same + as your own, I will certainly write to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know whether his excellency thinks as I do or not, and, in spite + of what I said to you, it is just possible that you do not know my own + opinions on the question; but write to him, and he may possibly give you + an audience.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall follow your advice, for which I am much obliged.” + </p> + <p> + When I got home I wrote to his excellency all I had said to the secretary, + and the next day I had a visit from Count Manucci. The count proved to be + a fine-looking young man of an agreeable presence. He said that he lived + in the embassy, that his excellency had read my letter, and though he + grieved not to receive me publicly he should be delighted to see me in + private, for he both knew and esteemed me. + </p> + <p> + Young Manucci told me that he was a Venetian, and that he knew me by name, + as he often heard his father and mother lamenting my fortune. Before long + it dawned upon me that this Count Manucci was the son of that Jean + Baptiste Manucci who had served as the spy of the State Inquisitors and + had so adroitly managed to get possession of my books of magic, which were + in all probability the chief corpus delicti. + </p> + <p> + I did not say anything to him, but I was certain that my guess was + correct. His mother was the daughter of a valet de chambre, and his father + was a poor mechanic. I asked the young man if he were called count at the + embassy, and he said he bore the title in virtue of a warrant from the + elector-palatine. My question shewed him that I knew his origin, and he + began to speak openly to me; and knowing that I was acquainted with the + peculiar tastes of M. de Mocenigo, the ambassador, he informed me + laughingly that he was his pathic. + </p> + <p> + “I will do my best for you,” he added; and I was glad to hear him say so, + for an Alexis should be able to obtain almost anything from his Corydon. + We embraced, and he told me as we parted that he would expect me at the + embassy in the afternoon, to take coffee in his room; the ambassador, he + said, would certainly come in as soon as he heard of my presence. + </p> + <p> + I went to the embassy, and had a very kind reception from the ambassador, + who said he was deeply grieved not to be able to receive me publicly. He + admitted that he might present me at Court without compromising himself, + but he was afraid of making enemies. + </p> + <p> + “I hope soon to receive a letter from a friend of mine, which will + authorise your excellency producing me.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted, in that case, to present you to all the Spanish + ministers.” + </p> + <p> + This Mocenigo was the same that acquired such a reputation at Paris by his + leanings to pederasty, a vice or taste which the French hold in horror. + Later on, Mocenigo was condemned by the Council of Ten to ten years’ + imprisonment for having started on an embassy to Vienna without formal + permission. Maria Theresa had intimated to the Venetian Government that + she would not receive such a character, as his habits would be the scandal + of her capital. The Venetian Government had some trouble with Mocenigo, + and as he attempted to set out for Vienna they exiled him and chose + another ambassador, whose morals were as bad, save that the new ambassador + indulged himself with Hebe and not Ganymede, which threw a veil of decency + over his proceedings. + </p> + <p> + In spite of his reputation for pederasty, Mocenigo was much liked at + Madrid. On one occasion I was at a ball, and a Spaniard noticing me with + Manucci, came up to me, and told me with an air of mystery that that young + man was the ambassador’s wife. He did not know that the ambassador was + Manucci’s wife; in fact, he did not understand the arrangement at all. + “Where ignorance is bliss!” etc. However, in spite of the revolting nature + of this vice, it has been a favourite one with several great men. It was + well-known to the Ancients, and those who indulged in it were called + Hermaphrodites, which symbolises not a man of two sexes but a man with the + passions of the two sexes. + </p> + <p> + I had called two or three times on the painter Mengs, who had been painter + in ordinary to his Catholic majesty for six years, and had an excellent + salary. He gave me some good dinners. His wife and family were at Rome, + while he basked in the royal favours at Madrid, enjoying the unusual + privilege of being able to speak to the king whenever he would. At Mengs’s + house I made the acquaintance of the architect Sabatini, an extremely + able man whom the king had summoned from Naples to cleanse Madrid, which + was formerly the dirtiest and most stinking town in Europe, or, for the + matter of that, in the world. Sabatini had become a rich man by + constructing drains, sewers, and closets for a city of fourteen thousand + houses. He had married by proxy the daughter of Vanvitelli, who was also + an architect at Naples, but he had never seen her. She came to Madrid + about the same time as myself. She was a beauty of eighteen, and no sooner + did she see her husband than she declared she would never be his wife. + Sabatini was neither a young man nor a handsome one, but he was + kind-hearted and distinguished; and when he told his young wife that she + would have to choose between him and a nunnery, she determined to make the + best of what she thought a bad bargain. However, she had no reason to + repent of her choice; her husband was rich, affectionate, and easygoing, + and gave her everything she wanted. I sighed and burned for her in + silence, not daring to declare my love, for while the wound of the death + of Charlotte was still bleeding I also began to find that women were + beginning to give me the cold shoulder. + </p> + <p> + By way of amusing myself I began to go to the theatre, and the masked + balls to which the Count of Aranda had established. They were held in a + room built for the purpose, and named ‘Los Scannos del Peral’. A Spanish + play is full of absurdities, but I rather relished the representations. + The ‘Autos Sacramentales’ were still represented; they were afterwards + prohibited. I could not help remarking the strange way in which the boxes + are constructed by order of the wretched police. Instead of being boarded + in front they are perfectly open, being kept up by small pillars. A + devotee once said to me at the theatre that this was a very wise + regulation, and he was surprised that it was not carried into force in + Italy. + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” + </p> + <p> + “Because lovers, who feel sure that no one in the pit can see them, may + commit improprieties.” + </p> + <p> + I only answered with a shrug of the shoulders. + </p> + <p> + In a large box opposite to the stage sat ‘los padres’ of the Holy + Inquisition to watch over the morals of actors and audience. I was gazing + on them when of a sudden the sentinel at the door of the pit called out + “Dios!” and at this cry all the actors and all the audience, men and + women, fell down on their knees, and remained kneeling till the sound of a + bell in the street ceased to be heard. This bell betokened that a priest + was passing by carrying the viaticum to some sick man. I felt very much + inclined to laugh, but I had seen enough of Spanish manners to refrain. + All the religion of the Spaniard is in outward show and ceremony. A + profligate woman before yielding to the desires of her lover covers the + picture of Christ, or the Virgin, with a veil. If the lover laughed at + this absurdity he would run a risk of being denounced as an Atheist, and + most probably by the wretched woman who had sold him her charms. + </p> + <p> + In Madrid, and possibly all over Spain, a gentleman who takes a lady to a + private room in an inn must expect to have a servant in the room the whole + of the time, that he may be able to swear that the couple took no indecent + liberties with each other. In spite of all, profligacy is rampant at + Madrid, and also the most dreadful hypocrisy, which is more offensive to + true piety than open sin. Men and women seemed to have come to an + agreement to set the whole system of surveillance utterly at nought. + However, commerce with women is not without its dangers; whether it be + endemic or a result of dirty habits, one has often good reason to repent + the favours one has obtained. + </p> + <p> + The masked ball quite captivated me. The first time I went to see what it + was like and it only cost me a doubloon (about eleven francs), but ever + after it cost me four doubloons, for the following reason: + </p> + <p> + An elderly gentleman, who sat next me at supper, guessed I was a foreigner + by my difficulty in making myself understood by the waiter, and asked me + where I had left my lady friend. + </p> + <p> + “I have not got one; I came by myself to enjoy this delightful and + excellently-managed entertainment.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you ought to come with a companion; then you could dance. At + present you cannot do so, as every lady has her partner, who will not + allow her to dance with anyone else.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I must be content not to dance, for, being a stranger, I do not know + any lady whom I can ask to come with me.” + </p> + <p> + “As a stranger you would have much less difficulty in securing a partner + than a citizen of Madrid. Under the new fashion, introduced by the Count + of Aranda, the masked ball has become the rage of all the women in the + capital. You see there are about two hundred of them on the floor + to-night; well, I think there are at least four thousand girls in Madrid + who are sighing for someone to take them to the ball, for, as you may + know, no woman is allowed to come by herself. You would only have to go to + any respectable people, give your name and address, and ask to have the + pleasure of taking their daughter to the ball. You would have to send her + a domino, mask, and gloves; and you would take her and bring her back in + your carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “And if the father and mother refused?” + </p> + <p> + “Then you would make your bow and go, leaving them to repent of their + folly, for the girl would sigh, and weep, and moan, bewail parental + tyranny, call Heaven to witness the innocency of going to a ball, and + finally go into convulsions.” + </p> + <p> + This oration, which was uttered in the most persuasive style, made me + quite gay, for I scented an intrigue from afar. I thanked the masked (who + spoke Italian very well) and promised to follow his advice and to let him + know the results. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted to hear of your success, and you will find me in the + box, where I shall be glad if you will follow me now, to be introduced to + the lady who is my constant companion.” + </p> + <p> + I was astonished at so much politeness, and told him my name and followed + him. He took me into a box where there were two ladies and an elderly man. + They were talking about the ball, so I put in a remark or two on the same + topic, which seemed to meet with approval. One of the two ladies, who + retained some traces of her former beauty, asked me, in excellent French, + what circles I moved in. + </p> + <p> + “I have only been a short time in Madrid, and not having been presented at + Court I really know no one.” + </p> + <p> + “Really! I quite pity you. Come and see me, you will be welcome. My name + is Pichona, and anybody will tell you where I live.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted to pay my respects to you, madam.” + </p> + <p> + What I liked best about the spectacle was a wonderful and fantastic dance + which was struck up at midnight. It was the famous fandango, of which I + had often heard, but of which I had absolutely no idea. I had seen it + danced on the stage in France and Italy, but the actors were careful not + to use those voluptuous gestures which make it the most seductive in the + world. It cannot be described. Each couple only dances three steps, but + the gestures and the attitudes are the most lascivious imaginable. + Everything is represented, from the sigh of desire to the final ecstasy; + it is a very history of love. I could not conceive a woman refusing her + partner anything after this dance, for it seemed made to stir up the + senses. I was so excited at this Bacchanalian spectacle that I burst out + into cries of delight. The masker who had taken me to his box told me that + I should see the fandango danced by the Gitanas with good partners. + </p> + <p> + “But,” I remarked, “does not the Inquisition object to this dance?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Pichona told me that it was absolutely forbidden, and would not be + danced unless the Count of Aranda had given permission. + </p> + <p> + I heard afterwards that, on the count forbidding the fandango, the + ball-room was deserted with bitter complaints, and on the prohibition + being withdrawn everyone was loud in his praise. + </p> + <p> + The next day I told my infamous page to get me a Spaniard who would teach + me the fandango. He brought me an actor, who also gave me Spanish lessons, + for he pronounced the language admirably. In the course of three days the + young actor taught me all the steps so well that, by the confession of the + Spaniards themselves, I danced it to perfection. + </p> + <p> + For the next ball I determined to carry the masker’s advice into effect, + but I did not want to take a courtezan or a married woman with me, and I + could not reasonably expect that any young lady of family would accompany + me. + </p> + <p> + It was St. Anthony’s Day, and passing the Church of the Soledad I went in, + with the double motive of hearing mass and of procuring a partner for the + next day’s ball. + </p> + <p> + I noticed a fine-looking girl coming out of the confessional, with + contrite face and lowered eyes, and I noted where she went. She knelt down + in the middle of the church, and I was so attracted by her appearance that + I registered a mental vow to the effect that she should be my first + partner. She did not look like a person of condition, nor, so far as I + could see, was she rich, and nothing about her indicated the courtezan, + though women of that class go to confession in Madrid like everybody else. + When mass was ended, the priest distributed the Eucharist, and I saw her + rise and approach humbly to the holy table, and there receive the + communion. She then returned to the church to finish her devotions, and I + was patient enough to wait till they were over. + </p> + <p> + At last she left, in company with another girl, and I followed her at a + distance. At the end of a street her companion left her to go into her + house, and she, retracing her steps, turned into another street and + entered a small house, one story high. I noted the house and the street + (Calle des Desinjano) and then walked up and down for half an hour, that I + might not be suspected of following her. At last I took courage and walked + in, and, on my ringing a bell, I heard a voice, + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” + </p> + <p> + “Honest folk,” I answered, according to the custom of the country; and the + door was opened. I found myself in the presence of a man, a woman, the + young devotee I had followed, and another girl, somewhat ugly. + </p> + <p> + My Spanish was bad, but still it was good enough to express my meaning, + and, hat in hand, I informed the father that, being a stranger, and having + no partner to take to the ball, I had come to ask him to give me his + daughter for my partner, supposing he had a daughter. I assured him that I + was a man of honour, and that the girl should be returned to him after the + ball in the same condition as when she started. + </p> + <p> + “Senor,” said he, “there is my daughter, but I don’t know you, and I don’t + know whether she wants to go.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to go, if my parents will allow me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you know this gentleman?” + </p> + <p> + “I have never seen him, and I suppose he has never seen me.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak the truth, senora.” + </p> + <p> + The father asked me my name and address, and promised I should have a + decisive answer by dinner-time, if I dined at home. I begged him to excuse + the liberty I had taken, and to let me know his answer without fail, so + that I might have time to get another partner if it were unfavourable to + me. + </p> + <p> + Just as I was beginning to dine my man appeared. I asked him to sit down, + and he informed me that his daughter would accept my offer, but that her + mother would accompany her and sleep in the carriage. I said that she + might do so if she liked, but I should be sorry for her on account of the + cold. “She shall have a good cloak,” said he; and he proceeded to inform + me that he was a cordwainer. + </p> + <p> + “Then I hope you will take my measure for a pair of shoes.” + </p> + <p> + “I daren’t do that; I’m an hidalgo, and if I were to take anyone’s measure + I should have to touch his foot, and that would be a degradation. I am a + cobbler, and that is not inconsistent with my nobility.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, will you mend me these boots?” + </p> + <p> + “I will make them like new; but I see they want a lot of work; it will + cost you a pezzo duro, about five francs.” + </p> + <p> + I told him that I thought his terms very reasonable, and he went out with + a profound bow, refusing absolutely to dine with me. + </p> + <p> + Here was a cobbler who despised bootmakers because they had to touch the + foot, and they, no doubt, despised him because he touched old leather. + Unhappy pride how many forms it assumes, and who is without his own + peculiar form of it? + </p> + <p> + The next day I sent to the gentleman-cobbler’s a tradesman with dominos, + masks, and gloves; but I took care not to go myself nor to send my page, + for whom I had an aversion which almost amounted to a presentiment. I + hired a carriage to seat four, and at nightfall I drove to the house of my + pious partner, who was quite ready for me. The happy flush on her face was + a sufficient index to me of the feelings of her heart. We got into the + carriage with the mother, who was wrapped up in a vast cloak, and at the + door of the dancing-room we descended, leaving the mother in the carriage. + As soon as we were alone my fair partner told me that her name was Donna + Ignazia. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0004" id="linkF2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Amours With Donna Ignazia—My Imprisonment At Buen + Retiro—My Triumph—I Am Commended to the Venetian + Ambassador by One of the State Inquisitors +</pre> + <p> + We entered the ball-room and walked round several times. Donna Ignazia was + in such a state of ecstasy that I felt her trembling, and augured well for + my amorous projects. Though liberty, nay, license, seemed to reign + supreme, there was a guard of soldiers ready to arrest the first person + who created any disturbance. We danced several minuets and square dances, + and at ten o’clock we went into the supper-room, our conversation being + very limited all the while, she not speaking for fear of encouraging me + too much, and I on account of my poor knowledge of the Spanish language. I + left her alone for a moment after supper, and went to the box, where I + expected to find Madame Pichona, but it was occupied by maskers, who were + unknown to me, so I rejoined my partner, and we went on dancing the + minuets and quadrilles till the fandango was announced. I took my place + with my partner, who danced it admirably, and seemed astonished to find + herself so well supported by a foreigner. This dance had excited both of + us, so, after taking her to the buffet and giving her the best wines and + liqueurs procurable, I asked her if she were content with me. I added that + I was so deeply in love with her that unless she found some means of + making me happy I should undoubtedly die of love. I assured her that I was + ready to face all hazards. + </p> + <p> + “By making you happy,” she replied, “I shall make myself happy, too. I + will write to you to-morrow, and you will find the letter sewn into the + hood of my domino.” + </p> + <p> + “You will find me ready to do anything, fair Ignazia, if you will give me + hope.” + </p> + <p> + At last the ball was over, and we went out and got into the carriage. The + mother woke up, and the coachman drove off, and I, taking the girl’s + hands, would have kissed them. However, she seemed to suspect that I had + other intentions, and held my hands clasped so tightly that I believe I + should have found it a hard task to pull them away. In this position Donna + Ignazia proceeded to tell her mother all about the ball, and the delight + it had given her. She did not let go my hands till we got to the corner of + their street, when the mother called out to the coachman to stop, not + wishing to give her neighbours occasion for slander by stopping in front + of their own house. + </p> + <p> + The next day I sent for the domino, and in it I found a letter from Donna + Ignazia, in which she told me that a Don Francisco de Ramos would call on + me, that he was her lover, and that he would inform me how to render her + and myself happy. + </p> + <p> + Don Francisco wasted no time, for the next morning at eight o’clock my + page sent in his name. He told me that Donna Ignazia, with whom he spoke + every night, she being at her window and he in the street, had informed + him that she and I had been at the ball together. She had also told him + that she felt sure I had conceived a fatherly affection for her, and she + had consequently prevailed upon him to call on me, being certain that I + would treat him as my own son. She had encouraged him to ask me to lend + him a hundred doubloons which would enable them to get married before the + end of the carnival. + </p> + <p> + “I am employed at the Mint,” he added, “but my present salary is a very + small one. I hope I shall get an increase before long, and then I shall be + in a position to make Ignazia happy. All my relations live at Toledo, and + I have no friends at Madrid, so when we set up our only friends will be + the father and mother of my wife and yourself, for I am sure you love her + like a daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “You have probed my heart to its core,” I replied, “but just now I am + awaiting remittances, and have very little money about me. You may count + on my discretion, and I shall be delighted to see you whenever you care to + call on me.” + </p> + <p> + The gallant made me a bow, and took his departure in no good humour. Don + Francisco was a young man of twenty-two, ugly and ill-made. I resolved to + nip the intrigue in the bud, for my inclination for Donna Ignazia was of + the lightest description; and I went to call on Madame Pichona, who had + given me such a polite invitation to come and see her. I had made + enquiries about her, and had found out that she was an actress and had + been made rich by the Duke of Medina-Celi. The duke had paid her a visit + in very cold weather, and finding her without a fire, as she was too poor + to buy coals, had sent her the next day a silver stove, which he had + filled with a hundred thousand pezzos duros in gold, amounting to three + hundred thousand francs in French money. Since then Madame Pichona lived + at her ease and received good company. + </p> + <p> + She gave me a warm reception when I called on her, but her looks were sad. + I began by saying that as I had not found her in her box on the last ball + night I had ventured to come to enquire after her health. + </p> + <p> + “I did not go,” said she, “for on that day died my only friend the Duke of + Medina-Celi. He was ill for three days.” + </p> + <p> + “I sympathise with you. Was the duke an old man?” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly sixty. You have seen him; he did not look his age.” + </p> + <p> + “Where have I seen him?” + </p> + <p> + “Did he not bring you to my box?” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say so! He did not tell me his name and I never saw him + before.” + </p> + <p> + I was grieved to hear of his death; it was in all probability a misfortune + for me as well as Madame Pichona. All the duke’s estate passed to a son of + miserly disposition, who in his turn had a son who was beginning to evince + the utmost extravagance. + </p> + <p> + I was told that the family of Medina-Celi enjoys thirty titles of + nobility. + </p> + <p> + One day a young man called on me to offer me, as a foreigner, his services + in a country which he knew thoroughly. + </p> + <p> + “I am Count Marazzini de Plaisance,” he began, “I am not rich and I have + come to Madrid to try and make my fortune. I hope to enter the bodyguard + of his Catholic majesty. I have been indulging in the amusements of the + town ever since I came. I saw you at the ball with an unknown beauty. I + don’t ask you to tell me her name, but if you are fond of novelty I can + introduce you to all the handsomest girls in Madrid.” + </p> + <p> + If my experience had taught me such wholesome lessons as I might have + expected, I should have shown the impudent rascal the door. Alas! I began + to be weary of my experience and the fruits of it; I began to feel the + horrors of a great void; I had need of some slight passion to wile away + the dreary hours. I therefore made this Mercury welcome, and told him I + should be obliged by his presenting me to some beauties, neither too easy + nor too difficult to access. + </p> + <p> + “Come with me to the ball,” he rejoined, “and I will shew you some women + worthy of your attention.” + </p> + <p> + The ball was to take place the same evening, and I agreed; he asked me to + give him some dinner, and I agreed to that also. After dinner he told me + he had no money, and I was foolish enough to give him a doubloon. The + fellow, who was ugly, blind of one eye, and full of impudence, shewed me a + score of pretty women, whose histories he told me, and seeing me to be + interested in one of them he promised to bring her to a procuress. He kept + his word, but he cost me dear; for the girl only served for an evening’s + amusement. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of the carnival the noble Don Diego, the father of Donna + Ignazia, brought me my boots, and the thanks of his wife and himself for + the pleasure I had given her at the ball. + </p> + <p> + “She is as good as she is beautiful,” said I, “she deserves to prosper, + and if I have not called on her it is only that I am anxious to do nothing + which could injure her reputation.” + </p> + <p> + “Her reputation, Senor Caballero, is above all reproach, and I shall be + delighted to see you whenever you honour me with a call.” + </p> + <p> + “The carnival draws near to its end,” I replied, “and if Donna Ignazia + would like to go to another ball I shall be happy to take her again.” + </p> + <p> + “You must come and ask her yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not fail to do so.” + </p> + <p> + I was anxious to see how the pious girl, who had tried to make me pay a + hundred doubloons for the chance of having her after her marriage, would + greet me, so I called the same day. I found her with her mother, rosary in + hand, while her noble father was botching old boots. I laughed inwardly at + being obliged to give the title of don to a cobbler who would not make + boots because he was an hidalgo. Hidalgo, meaning noble, is derived from + ‘higo de albo’, son of somebody, and the people, whom the nobles call + ‘higos de nade’, sons of nobody, often revenge themselves by calling the + nobles hideputas, that is to say, sons of harlots. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia rose politely from the floor, where she was sitting + cross-legged, after the Moorish fashion. I have seen exalted ladies in + this position at Madrid, and it is very common in the antechambers of the + Court and the palace of the Princess of the Asturias. The Spanish women + sit in church in the same way, and the rapidity with which they can change + this posture to a kneeling or a standing one is something amazing. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia thanked me for honouring her with a visit, adding that she + would never have gone to the ball if it had not been for me, and that she + never hoped to go to it again, as I had doubtless found someone else more + worthy of my attentions. + </p> + <p> + “I have not found anyone worthy to be preferred before you,” I replied, + “and if you would like to go to the ball again I should be most happy to + take you.” + </p> + <p> + The father and mother were delighted with the pleasure I was about to give + to their beloved daughter. As the ball was to take place the same evening, + I gave the mother a doubloon to get a mask and domino. She went on her + errand, and, as Don Diego also went out on some business, I found myself + alone with the girl. I took the opportunity of telling her that if she + willed I would be hers, as I adored her, but that I could not sigh for + long. + </p> + <p> + “What can you ask, and what can I offer, since I must keep myself pure for + my husband?” + </p> + <p> + “You should abandon yourself to me without reserve, and you may be sure + that I should respect your innocence.” + </p> + <p> + I then proceeded to deliver a gentle attack, which she repulsed, with a + serious face. I stopped directly, telling her that she would find me + polite and respectful, but not in the least affectionate, for the rest of + the evening. + </p> + <p> + Her face had blushed a vivid scarlet, and she replied that her sense of + duty obliged her to repulse me in spite of herself. + </p> + <p> + I liked this metaphysical line of argument. I saw that I had only to + destroy the idea of duty in her and all the rest would follow. What I had + to do was to enter into an argument, and to bear away the prize directly I + saw her at a loss for an answer. + </p> + <p> + “If your duty,” I began, “forces you to repulse me in spite of yourself, + your duty is a burden on you. If it is a burden on you, it is your enemy, + and if it is your enemy why do you suffer it thus lightly to gain the + victory? If you were your own friend, you would at once expel this + insolent enemy from your coasts.” + </p> + <p> + “That may not be.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it may. Only shut your eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + I immediately laid hands on a tender place; she repulsed me, but more + gently and not so seriously as before. + </p> + <p> + “You may, of course, seduce me,” she said, “but if you really love me you + will spare me the shame.” + </p> + <p> + “Dearest Ignazia, there is no shame in a girl giving herself up to the man + she loves. Love justifies all things. If you do not love me I ask nothing + of you.” + </p> + <p> + “But how shall I convince you that I am actuated by love and not by + complaisance?” + </p> + <p> + “Leave me to do what I like, and my self-esteem will help me to believe + you.” + </p> + <p> + “But as I cannot be certain that you will believe me, my duty plainly + points to a refusal.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, but you will make me sad and cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall be sad, too.” + </p> + <p> + At these encouraging words I embraced her, and obtained some solid favours + with one hardy hand. She made no opposition, and I was well pleased with + what I had got; and for a first attempt I could not well expect more. + </p> + <p> + At this juncture the mother came in with the dominos and gloves. I refused + to accept the change, and went away to return in my carriage, as before. + </p> + <p> + Thus the first step had been taken, and Donna Ignazia felt it would be + ridiculous not to join in with my conversation at the ball which all + tended to procuring the pleasure of spending our nights together. She + found me affectionate all the evening, and at supper I did my best to get + her everything she liked. I made her see that the part she had at last + taken was worthy of praise, and not blame. I filled her pockets with + sweets, and put into my own pockets two bottles of ratafia, which I handed + over to the mother, who was asleep in the carriage. Donna Ignazia + gratefully refused the quadruple I wished to give her, saying that if it + were in my power to make such presents, I might give the money to her + lover whenever he called on me. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” I answered, “but what shall I say to prevent his taking + offence?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him that it is on account of what he asked you. He is poor, and I am + sure he is in despair at not seeing me in the window to-night. I shall + tell him I only went to the ball with you to please my father.” + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia, a mixture of voluptuousness and piety, like most Spanish + women, danced the fandango with so much fire that no words could have + expressed so well the Joys that were in store for me. What a dance it is! + Her bosom was heaving and her blood all aflame, and yet I was told that + for the greater part of the company the dance was wholly innocent, and + devoid of any intention. I pretended to believe it, but I certainly did + not. Ignazia begged me to come to mass at the Church of the Soledad the + next day at eight o’clock. I had not yet told her that it was there I had + seen her first. She also asked me to come and see her in the evening, and + said she would send me a letter if we were not left alone together. + </p> + <p> + I slept till noon, and was awoke by Marazzini, who came to ask me to give + him some dinner. He told me he had seen me with my fair companion the + night before, and that he had vainly endeavoured to find out who she was. + I bore with this singularly misplaced curiosity, but when it came to his + saying that he would have followed us if he had had any money, I spoke to + him in a manner that made him turn pale. He begged pardon, and promised to + bridle his curiosity for the future. He proposed a party of pleasure with + the famous courtezan Spiletta, whose favours were dear, but I declined, + for my mind was taken up with the fair Ignazia, whom I considered a worthy + successor to Charlotte. + </p> + <p> + I went to the church, and she saw me when she came in, followed by the + same companion as before. + </p> + <p> + She knelt down at two or three paces from me, but did not once look in my + direction. Her friend, on the other hand, inspected me closely; she seemed + about the same age as Ignazia, but she was ugly. I also noticed Don + Francisco, and as I was going out of the church my rival followed me, and + congratulated me somewhat bitterly on my good fortune in having taken his + mistress a second time to the ball. He confessed that he had been on our + track the whole evening, and that he should have gone away well enough + pleased if it had not been for the way in which we dance the fandango. I + felt this was an occasion for a little gentle management, and I answered + good-humouredly that the love he thought he noticed was wholly imaginary, + and that he was wrong to entertain any suspicions as to so virtuous a girl + as Donna Ignazia. At the same time I placed an ounce in his hand, begging + him to take it on account. He did so with an astonished stare, and, + calling me his father and guardian angel, swore an eternal gratitude. + </p> + <p> + In the evening I called on Don Diego, where I was regaled with the + excellent ratafia I had given the mother, and the whole family began to + speak of the obligations Spain owed to the Count of Aranda. + </p> + <p> + “No exercise is more healthful than dancing,” said Antonia, the mother, + “and before his time balls were strictly forbidden. In spite of that he is + hated for having expelled ‘los padres de la compagnia de Jesus’, and for + his sumptuary regulations. But the poor bless his name, for all the money + produced by the balls goes to them.” + </p> + <p> + “And thus,” said the father, “to go to the ball is to do a pious work.” + </p> + <p> + “I have two cousins,” said Ignazia, “who are perfect angels of goodness. I + told them that you had taken me to the ball; but they are so poor that + they have no hope of going. If you like you can make them quite happy by + taking them on the last day of the carnival. The ball closes at midnight, + so as not to profane Ash Wednesday.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be happy to oblige you, all the more as your lady mother will not + be obliged to wait for us in the carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind; but I shall have to introduce you to my aunt; she is + so particular. When she knows you, I am sure she will consent, for you + have all the air of discretion. Go and see her to-day; she lives in the + next street, and over her door you will see a notice that lace is washed + within. Tell her that my mother gave you the address. To-morrow morning, + after mass, I will see to everything else, and you must come here at noon + to agree as to our meeting on the last day of the carnival.” + </p> + <p> + I did all this, and the next day I heard that it was settled. + </p> + <p> + “I will have the dominos ready at my house,” I said, “and you must come in + at the back door. We will dine in my room, mask, and go to the ball. The + eldest of your cousins must be disguised as a man.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t tell her anything about that, for fear she might think it a sin, + but once in your house you will have no difficulty in managing her.” + </p> + <p> + The younger of the two cousins was ugly, but looked like a woman, where as + the elder looked like an ugly dressed man in woman’s clothes. She made an + amusing contrast with Donna Ignazia, who looked most seductive when she + laid aside her air of piety. + </p> + <p> + I took care that everything requisite for our disguises should be at hand + in a neighbouring closet, unbeknown to my rascally page. I gave him a + piece of money in the morning, and told him to spend the last day of the + carnival according to his own taste, as I should not require his services + till noon the day after. + </p> + <p> + I ordered a good dinner, and a waiter to serve it, at the tavern, and got + rid of Marazzini by giving him a doubloon. I took great pains over the + entertainment I was to give the two cousins and the fair Ignazia, whom I + hoped that day to make my mistress. It was all quite a novelty for me; I + had to do with three devotees, two hideous and the third ravishingly + beautiful, who had already had a foretaste of the joys in store for her. + </p> + <p> + They came at noon, and for an hour I discoursed to them in a moral and + unctuous manner. I had taken care to provide myself with some excellent + wine, which did not fail to take effect on the three girls, who were not + accustomed to a dinner that lasted two hours. They were not exactly + inebriated, but their spirits were worked up to a pitch they had never + attained before. + </p> + <p> + I told the elder cousin, who might be twenty-five years old, that I was + going to disguise her as a man; consternation appeared on her features, + but I had expected as much, and Donna Ignazia told her she was only too + lucky, and her sister observed that she did not think it could be a sin. + </p> + <p> + “If it were a sin,” said I, “do you suppose that I should have suggested + it to your virtuous sister.” + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia, who knew the Legendarium by heart, corroborated my + assertion by saying that the blessed St. Marina had passed her whole life + in man’s clothes; and this settled the matter. + </p> + <p> + I then burst into a very high-flown eulogium of her intellectual capacity, + so as to enlist her vanity in the good cause. + </p> + <p> + “Come with me,” said I, “and do you ladies wait here; I want to enjoy your + surprise when you see her in man’s clothes.” + </p> + <p> + The ugly cousin made a supreme effort and followed me, and when she had + duly inspected her disguise I told her to take off her boots and to put on + white stockings and shoes, of which I had provided several pairs. I sat + down before her, and told her that if she suspected me of any + dishonourable intentions she would commit a mortal sin, as I was old + enough to be her father. She replied that she was a good Christian, but + not a fool. I fastened her garters for her, saying that I should never + have supposed she had so well-shapen and so white a leg, which compliment + made her smile in a satisfied manner. + </p> + <p> + Although I had a fine view of her thighs, I observed no traces of a blush + on her face. I then gave her a pair of my breeches, which fitted her + admirably, though I was five inches taller than she, but this difference + was compensated by the posterior proportions, with which, like most women, + she was bountifully endowed. I turned away to let her put them on in + freedom, and, having given her a linen shirt, she told me she had finished + before she had buttoned it at the neck. There may possibly have been a + little coquetry in this, as I buttoned the shirt for her, and was thus + gratified with a sight of her splendid breast. I need not say whether she + was pleased or not at my refraining from complimenting her upon her fine + proportions. When her toilette was finished I surveyed her from head to + foot, and pronounced her to be a perfect man, with the exception of one + blemish. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry for that.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you allow me to arrange your shirt so as to obviate it?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be much obliged, as I have never dressed in man’s clothes + before.” + </p> + <p> + I then sat down in front of her, and, after unbuttoning the fly, arranged + the shirt in a proper manner. In doing so I allowed myself some small + liberties, but I toyed with such a serious air that she seemed to take it + all as a matter of course. + </p> + <p> + When I had put on her domino and mask I led her forth, and her sister and + Donna Ignazia congratulated her on her disguise, saying that anybody would + take her for a man. + </p> + <p> + “Now it’s your turn,” I said to the younger one. + </p> + <p> + “Go with him,” said the elder, “Don Jaime is as honest a man as you will + find in Spain.” + </p> + <p> + There was really not much to be done to the younger sister, her disguise + being simply a mask and domino, but as I wanted to keep Ignazia a long + time I made her put on white stockings, change her kerchief, and a dozen + other trifles. When she was ready I brought her forth, and Donna Ignazia + noticing that she had changed her stockings and kerchief, asked her + whether I were as expert at dressing a lady as at turning a lady into a + gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” she replied, “I did everything for myself.” + </p> + <p> + Next came the turn of Don Diego’s daughter, and as soon as I had her in + the closet I did my pleasure on her, she submitting with an air that + seemed to say, “I only give in because I can’t resist.” Wishing to save + her honour I withdrew in time, but in the second combat I held her for + half an hour to my arms. However, she was naturally of a passionate + disposition, and nature had endowed her with a temperament able to resist + the most vigorous attacks. When decency made us leave the closet, she + remarked to her cousins, + </p> + <p> + “I thought I should never have done; I had to alter the whole fit of the + domino.” + </p> + <p> + I admired her presence of mind. + </p> + <p> + At nightfall we went to the ball, at which the fandango might be danced ad + libitum by a special privilege, but the crowd was so great that dancing + was out of the question. At ten we had supper, and then walked up and + down, till all at once the two orchestras became silent. We heard the + church clocks striking midnight the carnival was over, and Lent had begun. + </p> + <p> + This rapid transition from wantonness to devotion, from paganism to + Christianity, has something startling and unnatural about it. At + fifty-nine minutes past eleven the senses are all aglow; midnight sounds, + and in a minute they are supposed to be brought low, and the heart to be + full of humble repentance; it is an absurdity, an impossibility. + </p> + <p> + I took the three girls to my house to take off their dominos, and we then + escorted the two cousins home. When we had left them for a few minutes + Donna Ignazia told me that she would like a little coffee. I understood + her, and took her to my house, feeling sure of two hours of mutual + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + I took her to my room, and was just going out to order the coffee when I + met Don Francisco, who asked me plainly to let him come up, as he had seen + Donna Ignazia go in with me. I had sufficient strength of mind to conceal + my rage and disappointment, and told him to come in, adding that his + mistress would be delighted at this unexpected visit. I went upstairs, and + he followed me, and I shewed him into the room, congratulating the lady on + the pleasant surprise. + </p> + <p> + I expected that she would play her part as well as I had played mine, but + I was wrong. In her rage she told him that she would never have asked me + to give her a cup of coffee if she had foreseen this piece of importunity, + adding that if he had been a gentleman he would have known better than to + intrude himself at such an hour. + </p> + <p> + In spite of my own anger I felt that I must take the poor devil’s part; he + looked like a dog with a tin kettle tied to his tail. I tried to calm + Donna Ignazia, telling her that Don Francisco had seen us by a mere + accident, and that it was I who had asked him to come upstairs, in the + hope of pleasing her. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia feigned to be persuaded and asked her lover to sit down, but + she did not speak another word to him, confining her remarks to me, saying + how much she had enjoyed the ball, and how kind I had been to take her + cousins. + </p> + <p> + After he had taken a cup of coffee, Don Francisco bade us a good night. I + told him I hoped he would come and see me before Lent was over, but Donna + Ignazia only vouchsafed him a slight nod. When he had gone she said, sadly + enough, that she was sorry he had deprived us both of our pleasure, and + that she was sure Don Francisco was still hanging about the place, and + that she dared not expose herself to his vengeance. “So take me home, but + if you love me come and see me again. The trick the stupid fellow has + played me shall cost him dear. Are you sure I don’t love him?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite certain, for you love me too well to love anybody else.” + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia gave me a hasty proof of her affection, and I escorted her + home, assuring her that she would be the sole object of my thoughts as + long as I stayed at Madrid. + </p> + <p> + The next day I dined with Mengs, and the day after that I was accosted in + the street by an ill-looking fellow, who bade me follow him to a cloister, + as he had something of importance to communicate to me. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he saw that we were unobserved, he told me that the Alcalde + Messa was going to pay me a visit that same night with a band of police, + “of whom,” he added, “I am one. He knows you have concealed weapons in + your room. He knows, or thinks he knows, certain other things which + authorize him to seize your person and to take you to the prison where + persons destined for the galleys are kept. I give you all this warning + because I believe you to be a man of honour. Despise not my advice, but + look to yourself, and get into some place of security.” + </p> + <p> + I credited what he told me, as the circumstance of my having arms was + perfectly true, so I gave the man a doubloon, and, instead of calling on + Donna Ignazia, as I intended, I went back to my lodging, and after putting + the weapons under my cloak I went to Mengs’s, leaving word at the cafe to + send me my page as soon as he came back. In Mengs’s house I was safe, as + it belonged to the king. + </p> + <p> + The painter was an honest fellow, but proud and suspicious in excess. He + did not refuse me an asylum for the night, but he told me that I must look + out for some other refuge, as the alcalde must have some other accusation + against me, and that knowing nothing of the merits or demerits of the case + he could not take any part in it. He gave me a room and we supped + together, discussing the matter all the time, I persisting that the + possession of arms was my only offence, and he replying that if it were so + I should have awaited the alcalde fearlessly, as it stood to reason that a + man had a right to keep defensive weapons in his own room. To this I + answered that I had only come to him to avoid passing the night in prison, + as I was certain that the man had told me the truth. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow I shall look out for another lodging.” + </p> + <p> + I confessed, however, that it would have been wiser of me to leave my + pistols and musket in my room. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and you might have remained there yourself. I did not think you were + so easily frightened.” + </p> + <p> + As we were arguing it over my landlord came and said that the alcalde with + thirty constables had been to my apartment and had broken open the door. + He had searched everything, but unsuccessfully, and had gone away after + sealing the room and its contents. He had arrested and imprisoned my page + on the charge of having warned me, “for otherwise,” he said, “the Venetian + gentleman would never have gone to the house of Chevalier Mengs, where he + is out of my power.” + </p> + <p> + At this Mengs agreed that I had been right in believing my informant’s + tale, and he added that the first thing in the morning I should go and + protest my innocence before the Count of Aranda, but he especially urged + on me the duty of defending the poor page. My landlord went his way, and + we continued the discussion, Mengs insisting on the page’s innocence, till + at last I lost all patience, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “My page must be a thorough-paced scoundrel; the magistrate’s arresting + him for warning me is an absolute proof that he knew of my approaching + arrest. What is a servant who does not warn his master under such + circumstances but a rascal? Indeed I am absolutely certain that he was the + informer, for he was the only person who knew where the arms were + concealed.” + </p> + <p> + Mengs could find no answer to this, and left to go to bed. I did the same + and had an excellent night. + </p> + <p> + Early the next morning the great Mengs sent me linen and all the + requisites of the toilette. His maid brought me a cup of chocolate, and + his cook came to ask if I had permission to eat flesh-meat. In such ways a + prince welcomes a guest, and bids him stay, but such behaviour in a + private person is equivalent to a hint to go. I expressed my gratitude, + and only accepted a cup of chocolate and one handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + My carriage was at the door, and I was just taking leave of Mengs when an + officer appeared on the scene, and asked the painter if the Chevalier de + Casanova was in his house. + </p> + <p> + “I am the Chevalier de Casanova,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Then I hope you will follow me of your own free will to the prison of + Buen Retiro. I cannot use force here, for this house is the king’s, but I + warn you that in less than an hour the Chevalier Mengs will have orders to + turn you out, and then you will be dragged to prison, which would be + unpleasant for you. I therefore advise you to follow me quietly, and to + give up such weapons as you may possess.” + </p> + <p> + “The Chevalier Mengs will give you the weapons in question. I have carried + them with me for eleven years; they are meant to protect me on the + highways. I am ready to follow you, but first allow me to write four + notes; I shall not be half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I can neither allow you to wait nor to write, but you will be at liberty + to do so after you have reached the prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; then I am ready to follow you, for I have no choice. I shall + remember Spanish justice!” + </p> + <p> + I embraced Mengs, had the weapons put into my carriage, and got in with + the officer, who seemed a perfect gentleman. + </p> + <p> + He took me to the Castle of Buen Retiro, formerly a royal palace, and now + a prison. When my conductor had consigned me to the officer of the watch I + was handed over to a corporal, who led me into a vast hall on the ground + floor of the building. The stench was dreadful, and the prisoners were + about thirty, ten of them being soldiers. There were ten or twelve large + beds, some benches, no tables, and no chairs. + </p> + <p> + I asked a guard to get me some pens, ink, and paper, and gave him a duro + for the purpose. He took the coin smilingly, and went away, but he did not + return. When I asked his brethren what had become of him they laughed in + my face. But what surprised me the most was the sight of my page and + Marazzini, who told me in Italian that he had been there for three days, + and that he had not written to me as he had a presentiment that we should + soon meet. He added that in a fortnight’s time we should be sent off under + a heavy escort to work in some fortress, though we might send our pleas to + the Government, and might possibly be let out after three or four years’ + imprisonment. + </p> + <p> + “I hope,” he said, “not to be condemned before I am heard. The alcalde + will come and interrogate you tomorrow, and your answers will be taken + down; that’s all. You may then be sent to hard labour in Africa.” + </p> + <p> + “Has your case been heard yet?” + </p> + <p> + “They were at me about it for three hours yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of questions did they ask you?” + </p> + <p> + “They wished to know what banker furnished me with money for my expenses. + I told them I had not got a banker, and that I lived by borrowing from my + friends, in the expectation of becoming one of the king’s body-guard. They + then asked me how it was that the Parmese ambassador knew nothing about + me, and I replied that I had never been presented to him. + </p> + <p> + “‘Without the favour of your ambassador,’ they objected, ‘you could never + join the royal guard, and you must be aware of that, but the king’s + majesty shall give you employment where you will stand in need of no + commendation;’ and so the alcalde left me. If the Venetian ambassador does + not interpose in your behalf you will be treated in the same way.” + </p> + <p> + I concealed my rage, and sat down on a bed, which I left after three + hours, as I found myself covered with the disgusting vermin which seem + endemic in Spain. The very sight of them made me sick. I stood upright, + motionless, and silent, devouring the bile which consumed me. + </p> + <p> + There was no good in talking; I must write; but where was I to find + writing materials? However, I resolved to wait in silence; my time must + come, sooner or later. + </p> + <p> + At noon Marazzini told me that he knew a soldier for whose trustworthiness + he would answer, and who would get me my dinner if I gave him the money. + </p> + <p> + “I have no appetite,” I replied, “and I am not going to give a farthing to + anyone till the stolen crown is restored to me.” + </p> + <p> + He made an uproar over this piece of cheating, but the soldiers only + laughed at him. My page then asked him to intercede with me, as he was + hungry, and had no money wherewith to buy food. + </p> + <p> + “I will not give him a farthing; he is no longer in my service, and would + to God I had never seen him!” + </p> + <p> + My companions in misery proceeded to dine on bad garlic soup and wretched + bread, washed down by plain water, two priests and an individual who was + styled corregidor excepted, and they seemed to fare very well. + </p> + <p> + At four o’clock one of Mengs’s servants brought me a dinner which would + have sufficed for four. He wanted to leave me the dinner and come for the + plates in the evening; but not caring to share the meal with the vile mob + around me I made him wait till I had done and come again at the same time + the next day, as I did not require any supper. The servant obeyed. + Marazzini said rudely that I might at least have kept the bottle of wine; + but I gave him no answer. + </p> + <p> + At five o’clock Manucci appeared, accompanied by a Spanish officer. After + the usual compliments had passed between us I asked the officer if I might + write to my friends, who would not allow me to stay much longer in prison + if they were advised of my arrest. + </p> + <p> + “We are no tyrants,” he replied; “you can write what letters you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said I, “as this is a free country, is it allowable for a soldier + who has received certain moneys to buy certain articles to pocket the + money and appropriate it to his own use?” + </p> + <p> + “What is his name?” + </p> + <p> + The guard had been relieved, and no one seemed to know who or where he + was. + </p> + <p> + “I promise you, sir,” said the officer, “that the soldier shall be + punished and your money restored to you; and in the meanwhile you shall + have pens, ink, paper, a table, and a candle, immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” added Manucci, “promise you that one of the ambassador’s servants + shall wait on you at eight o’clock to deliver any letters you may write.” + </p> + <p> + I took three crowns from my pocket, and told my fellow-prisoners that the + first to name the soldier who had deceived me should have the money; + Marazzini was the first to do so. The officer made a note of the man’s + name with a smile; he was beginning to know me; I had spent three crowns + to get back one, and could not be very avaricious. + </p> + <p> + Manucci whispered to me that the ambassador would do his best in a + confidential way to get my release, and that he had no doubt of his + success. + </p> + <p> + When my visitors were gone I sat down to write, but I had need of all my + patience. The rascally prisoners crowded round me to read what I was + writing, and when they could not understand it they were impudent enough + to ask me to explain it to them. Under the pretext of snuffing the candle, + they put it out. However, I bore with it all. One of the soldiers said he + would keep them quiet for a crown, but I gave him no answer. In spite of + the hell around me, I finished my letters and sealed them up. They were no + studied or rhetorical epistles, but merely the expression of the fury with + which I was consumed. + </p> + <p> + I told Mocenigo that it was his duty to defend a subject of his prince, + who had been arrested and imprisoned by a foreign power on an idle + pretext. I shewed him that he must give me his protection unless I was + guilty, and that I had committed no offence against the law of the land. I + reminded him that I was a Venetian, in spite of my persecution at the + hands of the State Inquisitors, and that being a Venetian I had a right to + count on his protection. + </p> + <p> + To Don Emmanuel de Roda, a learned scholar, and the minister of justice, I + wrote that I did not ask any favour but only simple justice. + </p> + <p> + “Serve God and your master,” said I. “Let his Catholic majesty save me + from the hands of the infamous alcalde who has arrested me, an honest and + a law-abiding man, who came to Spain trusting in his own innocence and the + protection of the laws. The person who writes to you, my lord, has a purse + full of doubloons in his pocket; he has already been robbed, and fears + assassination in the filthy den in which he has been imprisoned.” + </p> + <p> + I wrote to the Duke of Lossada, requesting him to inform the king that his + servants had subjected to vile treatment a man whose only fault was that + he had a little money. I begged him to use his influence with his Catholic + majesty to put a stop to these infamous proceedings. + </p> + <p> + But the most vigorous letter of all was the one I addressed to the Count + of Aranda. I told him plainly that if this infamous action went on I + should be forced to believe that it was by his orders, since I had stated + in vain that I came to Madrid with an introduction to him from a princess. + </p> + <p> + “I have committed no crime,” I said; “what compensation am I to have when + I am released from this filthy and abominable place? Set me at liberty at + once, or tell your hangmen to finish their work, for I warn you that no + one shall take me to the galleys alive.” + </p> + <p> + According to my custom I took copies of all the letters, and I sent them + off by the servant whom the all-powerful Manucci despatched to the prison. + I passed such a night as Dante might have imagined in his Vision of Hell. + All the beds were full, and even if there had been a spare place I would + not have occupied it. I asked in vain for a mattress, but even if they had + brought me one, it would have been of no use, for the whole floor was + inundated. There were only two or three chamber utensils for all the + prisoners, and everyone discharged his occasions on the floor. + </p> + <p> + I spent the night on a narrow bench without a back, resting my head on my + hands. + </p> + <p> + At seven o’clock the next morning Manucci came to see me; I looked upon + him as my Providence. I begged him to take me down to the guard-room, and + give me some refreshment, for I felt quite exhausted. My request was + granted, and as I told my sufferings I had my hair done by a barber. + </p> + <p> + Manucci told me that my letters would be delivered in the course of the + day, and observed, smilingly, that my epistle to the ambassador was rather + severe. I shewed him copies of the three others I had written, and the + inexperienced young man told me that gentleness was the best way to obtain + favours. He did not know that there are circumstances in which a man’s pen + must be dipped in gall. He told me confidentially that the ambassador + dined with Aranda that day, and would speak in my favour as a private + individual, adding that he was afraid my letter would prejudice the proud + Spaniard against me. + </p> + <p> + “All I ask of you,” said I, “is not to tell the ambassador that you have + seen the letter I wrote to the Count of Aranda.” + </p> + <p> + He promised he would keep the secret. + </p> + <p> + An hour after his departure I saw Donna Ignazia and her father coming in, + accompanied by the officer who had treated me with such consideration. + Their visit cut me to the quick; nevertheless, I felt grateful, for it + shewed me the goodness of Don Diego’s heart and the love of the fair + devotee. + </p> + <p> + I gave them to understand, in my bad Spanish, that I was grateful for the + honour they had done me in visiting me in this dreadful situation. Donna + Ignazia did not speak, she only wept in silence; but Don Diego gave me + clearly to understand that he would never have come to see me unless he + had felt certain that my accusation was a mistake or an infamous calumny. + He told me he was sure I should be set free, and that proper satisfaction + would be given me. + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” I replied, “for I am perfectly innocent of any offence.” I + was greatly touched when the worthy man slipped into my hands a rouleau, + telling me it contained twelve quadruples, which I could repay at my + convenience. + </p> + <p> + It was more than a thousand francs, and my hair stood on end. I pressed + his hand warmly, and whispered to him that I had fifty in my pocket, which + I was afraid to shew him, for fear the rascals around might rob me. He put + back his rouleau, and bade me farewell in tears, and I promised to come + and see him as soon as I should be set at liberty. + </p> + <p> + He had not sent in his name, and as he was very well dressed he was taken + for a man of importance. Such characters are not altogether exceptional in + heroic Spain; it is a land of extremes. + </p> + <p> + At noon Mengs’s servant came with a dinner that was choicer than before, + but not so plentiful. This was just what I liked. He waited for me to + finish, and went away with the plates, carrying my heartiest thanks to his + master. + </p> + <p> + At one o’clock an individual came up to me and bade me follow him. He took + me to a small room, where I saw my carbine and pistols. In front of me was + the Alcalde Messa, seated at a table covered with documents, and a + policeman stood on each side of him. The alcalde told me to sit down, and + to answer truly such questions as might be put to me, warning me that my + replies would be taken down. + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand Spanish well, and I shall only give written answers + to any questions that may be asked of me, in Italian, French, or Latin.” + </p> + <p> + This reply, which I uttered in a firm and determined voice, seemed to + astonish him. He spoke to me for an hour, and I understood him very well, + but he only got one reply: + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand what you say. Get a judge who understands one of the + languages I have named, and I will write down my answers.” + </p> + <p> + The alcalde was enraged, but I did not let his ill-humour or his threats + disturb me. + </p> + <p> + Finally he gave me a pen, and told me to write my name, profession, and + business in Spain in Italian. I could not refuse him this pleasure, so I + wrote as follows: + </p> + <p> + “My name is Jacques Casanova; I am a subject of the Republic of Venice, by + profession a man of letters, and in rank a Knight of the Golden Spur. I + have sufficient means, and I travel for my pleasure. I am known to the + Venetian ambassador, the Count of Aranda, the Prince de la Catolica, the + Marquis of Moras, and the Duke of Lossada. I have offended in no manner + against the laws of his Catholic majesty, but in spite of my innocence I + have been cast into a den of thieves and assassins by magistrates who + deserve a ten times greater punishment. Since I have not infringed the + laws, his Catholic majesty must know that he has only one right over me, + and that is to order me to leave his realms, which order I am ready to + obey. My arms, which I see before me, have travelled with me for the last + eleven years; I carry them to defend myself against highwaymen. They were + seen when my effects were examined at the Gate of Alcala, and were not + confiscated; which makes it plain that they have served merely as a + pretext for the infamous treatment to which I have been subjected.” + </p> + <p> + After I had written out this document I gave it to the alcalde, who called + for an interpreter. When he had had it read to him he rose angrily and + said to me,— + </p> + <p> + “Valga me Dios! You shall suffer for your insolence.” + </p> + <p> + With this threat he went away, ordering that I should be taken back to + prison. + </p> + <p> + At eight o’clock Manucci called and told me that the Count of Aranda had + been making enquiries about me of the Venetian ambassador, who had spoken + very highly in my favour, and expressed his regret that he could not take + my part officially on account of my being in disgrace with the State + Inquisitors. + </p> + <p> + “He has certainly been shamefully used,” said the count, “but an + intelligent man should not lose his head. I should have known nothing + about it, but for a furious letter he has written me; and Don Emmanuel de + Roda and the Duke of Lossada have received epistles in the same style. + Casanova is in the right, but that is not the way to address people.” + </p> + <p> + “If he really said I was in the right, that is sufficient.” + </p> + <p> + “He said it, sure enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he must do me justice, and as to my style everyone has a style of + their own. I am furious, and I wrote furiously. Look at this place; I have + no bed, the floor is covered with filth, and I am obliged to sleep on a + narrow bench. Don’t you think it is natural that I should desire to eat + the hearts of the scoundrels who have placed me here? If I do not leave + this hell by tomorrow, I shall kill myself, or go mad.” + </p> + <p> + Manucci understood the horrors of my situation. He promised to come again + early the next day, and advised me to see what money would do towards + procuring a bed, but I would not listen to him, for I was suffering from + injustice, and was therefore obstinate. Besides, the thought of the vermin + frightened me, and I was afraid for my purse and the jewels I had about + me. + </p> + <p> + I spent a second night worse than the first, going to sleep from sheer + exhaustion, only to awake and find myself slipping off the bench. + </p> + <p> + Manucci came before eight o’clock, and my aspect shocked him. He had come + in his carriage, bringing with him some excellent chocolate, which in some + way restored my spirits. As I was finishing it, an officer of high rank, + accompanied by two other officers, came in and called out,— + </p> + <p> + “M. de Casanova!” + </p> + <p> + I stepped forward and presented myself. + </p> + <p> + “Chevalier,” he began, “the Count of Aranda is at the gate of the prison; + he is much grieved at the treatment you have received. He only heard about + it through the letter you wrote him yesterday, and if you had written + sooner your pains would have been shorter.” + </p> + <p> + “Such was my intention, colonel, but a soldier . . . .” + </p> + <p> + I proceeded to tell him the story of the swindling soldier, and on hearing + his name the colonel called the captain of the guard, reprimanded him + severely, and ordered him to give me back the crown himself. I took the + money laughingly, and the colonel then ordered the captain to fetch the + offending soldier, and to give him a flogging before me. + </p> + <p> + This officer, the emissary of the all-powerful Aranda, was Count Royas, + commanding the garrison of Buen Retiro. I told him all the circumstances + of my arrest, and of my imprisonment in that filthy place. I told him that + if I did not get back that day my arms, my liberty, and my honour, I + should either go mad or kill myself. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” I said, “I can neither rest nor sleep, and a man needs sleep every + night. If you had come a little earlier you would have seen the disgusting + filth with which the floor was covered.” + </p> + <p> + The worthy man was taken aback with the energy with which I spoke. I saw + his feelings, and hastened to say,— + </p> + <p> + “You must remember, colonel, that I am suffering from injustice, and am in + a furious rage. I am a man of honour, like yourself, and you can imagine + the effect of such treatment on me.” + </p> + <p> + Manucci told him, in Spanish, that in my normal state I was a good fellow + enough. The colonel expressed his pity for me, and assured me that my arms + should be restored to me, and my liberty too, in the course of the day. + </p> + <p> + “Afterwards,” said he, “you must go and thank his excellency the Count of + Aranda, who came here expressly for your sake. He bade me tell you that + your release would be delayed till the afternoon, that you may have full + satisfaction for the affront you have received, if it is an affront, for + the penalties of the law only dishonour the guilty. In this instance the + Alcalde Messa has been deceived by the rascal who was in your service.” + </p> + <p> + “There he is,” said I. “Be good enough to have him removed, or else, in my + indignation, I might kill him.” + </p> + <p> + “He shall be taken away this moment,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + The colonel went out, and two minutes later two soldiers came in and took + the rogue away between them. I never saw him again, and never troubled + myself to enquire what had become of him. + </p> + <p> + The colonel begged me to accompany him to the guard-room, to see the + thieving soldier flogged. Manucci was at my side, and at some little + distance stood the Count of Aranda, surrounded by officers, and + accompanied by a royal guard. + </p> + <p> + The business kept us there for a couple of hours. Before leaving me the + colonel begged me to meet Mengs at dinner at his house. + </p> + <p> + When I returned to my filthy prison I found a clean arm-chair, which I was + informed had been brought in for me. I sat down in it immediately, and + Manucci left me, after embracing me again and again. He was my sincere + friend, and I can never forgive myself the stupidity which made me offend + him grievously. He never forgave me, at which I am not surprised, but I + believe my readers will agree with me in thinking that he carried his + vengeance too far. + </p> + <p> + After the scene which had taken place, the vile crowd of prisoners stood + gazing at me in stupid silence, and Marazzini came up to me and begged me + to use my offices for him. + </p> + <p> + Dinner was brought me as usual, and at three o’clock the Alcalde Messa + appeared and begged me to follow him, as he had received orders to take me + back to my lodging, where he hoped I should find everything in perfect + order. At the same time he shewed me my arms, which one of his men was + going to bring to my house. The officer of the guard returned me my sword, + the alcalde, who was in his black cloak, put himself on my left hand, and + thus I was escorted home with a guard of thirty constables. The seals were + removed from my apartment, and after a brief inspection I pronounced that + everything was in perfect order. + </p> + <p> + “If you had not a rascal and a traitor (who shall end his days in the + galleys) in your service, Senor Caballero, you would never have written + down the servants of his Catholic majesty as scoundrels.” + </p> + <p> + “Senor Alcalde, my indignation made me write the same sentence to four of + his majesty’s ministers. Then I believed what I wrote, but I do so no + longer. Let us forget and forgive; but you must confess that if I had not + known how to write a letter you would have sent me to the galleys.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! it is very likely.” + </p> + <p> + I need not say that I hastened to remove all traces of the vile prison + where I had suffered so much. When I was ready to go out my first grateful + visit was paid to the noble cobbler. The worthy man was proud of the + fulfilment of his prophecy, and glad to see me again. Donna Ignazia was + wild with delight—perhaps she had not been so sure of my release—and + when Don Diego heard of the satisfaction that had been given me he said + that a grandee of Spain could not have asked for more. I begged the worthy + people to come and dine with me, telling them that I would name the day + another time, and they accepted gladly. + </p> + <p> + I felt that my love for Donna Ignazia had increased immensely since our + last meeting. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards I called on Mengs, who with his knowledge of Spanish law + expected nothing less than to see me. When he heard of my triumphant + release he overwhelmed me with congratulations. He was in his Court dress—an + unusual thing with him, and on my asking him the reason he told me that he + had been to Don Emmanuel de Roda’s to speak on my behalf, but had not + succeeded in obtaining an audience. He gave me a Venetian letter which had + just arrived for me. I opened it, and found it was from M. Dandolo, and + contained an enclosure for M. de Mocenigo. M. Dandolo said that on reading + the enclosed letter the ambassador would have no more scruples about + introducing me, as it contained a recommendation from one of the + Inquisitors on behalf of the three. + </p> + <p> + When I told Mengs of this he said it was now in my power to make my + fortune in Spain, and that now was the time when all the ministers would + be only too anxious to do something for me to make me forget the wrongs I + had received. + </p> + <p> + “I advise you,” he said, “to take the letter to the ambassador + immediately. Take my carriage; after what you have undergone for the last + few days you cannot be in a walking humour.” + </p> + <p> + I had need of rest, and told Mengs that I would not sup with him that + night, but would dine with him the next day. The ambassador was out, so I + left the letter with Manucci, and then drove home and slept profoundly for + twelve hours. + </p> + <p> + Manucci came to see me the next day in high spirits, and told me that M. + Girolamo Zulian had written to the ambassador on behalf of M. du Mula, + informing him that he need not hesitate to countenance me, as any articles + the Tribunal might have against me were in no degree prejudicial to my + honour. + </p> + <p> + “The ambassador,” he continued, “proposes to introduce you at Court next + week, and he wants you to dine with him to-day; there will be a numerous + company at dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “I am engaged to Mengs.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter, he shall be asked as well; you must come. Consider the effect + of your presence at the ambassador’s the day after your triumph.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right. Go and ask Mengs, and tell the ambassador that I have much + pleasure in accepting his invitation.” + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0005" id="linkF2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Campomanes—Olavides—Sierra Morena—Aranjuez—Mengs—The + Marquis Grimaldi—Toledo—Madame Pelliccia—My Return to + Madrid +</pre> + <p> + Different circumstances in my life seem to have combined to render me + somewhat superstitious; it is a humiliating confession, and yet I make it. + But who could help it? A man who abandons himself to his whims and fancies + is like a child playing with a billiard cue. It may make a stroke that + would be an honour to the most practised and scientific player; and such + are the strange coincidences of life which, as I have said, have caused me + to become superstitious. + </p> + <p> + Fortune, which under the humbler name of luck seems but a word, is a very + divinity when it guides the most important actions of a man’s life. Always + it has seemed to me that this divinity is not blind, as the mythologists + affirm; she had brought me low only to exalt me, and I found myself in + high places, only, as it seems, to be cast into the depths. Fortune has + done her best to make me regard her as a reasoning, almighty power; she + has made me feel that the strength of my will is as nothing before this + mysterious power, which takes my will and moulds it, and makes it a mere + instrument for the accomplishment of its decrees. + </p> + <p> + I could not possibly have done anything in Spain without the help of the + representative of my country, and he would not have dared to do anything + for me without the letter I had just given him. This letter, in its turn, + would probably have had but slight effect if it had not come to hand so + soon after my imprisonment, which had become the talk of the town, through + the handsome satisfaction the Count of Aranda had given me. + </p> + <p> + The letter made the ambassador sorry that he had not interposed on my + behalf, but he hoped people would believe that the count would not have + acted as he did if it had not been for his interposition. His favourite, + Count Manucci, had come to ask me to dinner; as it happened I was engaged + to Mengs, which obtained an invitation for the painter, and flattered his + vanity excessively. He fancied that the invitation proceeded from + gratitude, and it certainly smoothed away the mortification he had felt at + seeing me arrested in his house. He immediately wrote to the effect that + he would call upon me with his carriage. + </p> + <p> + I called on the Count of Aranda, who kept me waiting for a quarter of an + hour, and then came in with some papers in his hand. He smiled when he saw + me, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Your business is done. Stay, here are four letters; take them and read + them over again.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I read them again? This is the document I gave the alcalde.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that. Read, and confess that you should not have written so + violently, in spite of the wrongs that vexed you.” + </p> + <p> + “I crave your pardon, my lord, but a man who meditates suicide does not + pick terms. I believed that your excellency was at the bottom of it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t know me. Go and thank Don Emmanuel de Roda, who wants to + know you, and I shall be glad if you will call once on the alcalde, not to + make him an apology, for you owe him none, but as an act of politeness to + salve over the hard things you said of him. If you write the history of + Princess Lubomirska, I hope you will tell her that I did my best for you.” + </p> + <p> + I then called on Colonel Royas, who told me that I had made a great + mistake in saying that I was satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “What could I claim?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything. Dismissal of the alcalde and compensation to the tune of + fifty thousand duros. Spain is a country where a man may speak out save in + the matters which the Holy Inquisition looks after.” + </p> + <p> + This colonel, now a general, is one of the pleasantest Spaniards I have + ever met. + </p> + <p> + I had not long returned to my lodging when Mengs called for me in his + carriage. The ambassador gave me a most gracious reception, and + overwhelmed Mengs with compliments for having endeavoured to shelter me. + At dinner I told the story of my sufferings at Buen Retiro, and the + conversation I had just had with the Count of Aranda, who had returned me + my letters. The company expressed a desire to see them, and everyone gave + an opinion on the matter. + </p> + <p> + The guests were Abbe Bigliardi, the French consul, Don Rodrigues de + Campomanes, and the famous Don Pablo d’Olavides. Everyone spoke his mind, + and the ambassador condemned the letters as too ferocious. On the other + hand, Campomanes approved them, saying that they were not abusive, and + were wonderfully adapted to my purpose, namely, to force the reader to do + me prompt justice, were the reader to be the king himself. Olavides and + Bigliardi echoed this sentiment. Mengs sided with the ambassador, and + begged me to come and live with him, so as not to be liable to any more + inconveniences from spying servants. I did not accept this invitation till + I had been pressed for some time, and I noted the remark of the + ambassador, who said I owed Mengs this reparation for the indirect affront + he had received. + </p> + <p> + I was delighted to make the acquaintance of Campomanes and Olavides, men + of intellect and of a stamp very rare in Spain. They were not exactly men + of learning, but they were above religious prejudices, and were not only + fearless in throwing public scorn upon them but even laboured openly for + their destruction. It was Campomanes who had furnished Aranda with all the + damaging matter against the Jesuits. By a curious coincidence, Campomanes, + the Count of Aranda, and the General of the Jesuits, were all squint-eyed. + I asked Campomanes why he hated the Jesuits so bitterly, and he replied + that he looked upon them in the same light as the other religious orders, + whom he considered a parasitical and noxious race, and would gladly banish + them all, not only from the peninsula but from the face of the earth. + </p> + <p> + He was the author of all the pamphlets that had been written on the + subject of mortmain; and as he was an intimate friend of the ambassador’s, + M. Mocenigo had furnished him with an account of the proceedings of the + Venetian Republic against the monks. He might have dispensed with this + source of information if he had read the writings of Father Paul Sarpi on + the same subject. Quick-sighted, firm, with the courage of his opinions, + Campomanes was the fiscal of the Supreme Council of Castille, of which + Aranda was president. Everyone knew him to be a thoroughly honest man, who + acted solely for the good of the State. Thus statesmen and officials had + warm feelings of respect for him, while the monks and bigots hated the + sound of his name, and the Inquisition had sworn to be his ruin. It was + said openly that he would either become a bishop or perish in the cells of + the holy brotherhood. The prophecy was only partly fulfilled. Four years + after my visit to Spain he was incarcerated in the dungeons of the + Inquisition, but he obtained his release after three years’ confinement by + doing public penance. The leprosy which eats out the heart of Spain is not + yet cured. Olavides was still more harshly treated, and even Aranda would + have fallen a victim if he had not had the good sense to ask the king to + send him to France as his ambassador. The king was very glad to do so, as + otherwise he would have been forced to deliver him up to the infuriated + monks. Charles III. (who died a madman) was a remarkable character. He was + as obstinate as a mule, as weak as a woman, as gross as a Dutchman, and a + thorough-paced bigot. It was no wonder that he became the tool of his + confessor. + </p> + <p> + At the time of which I am speaking the cabinet of Madrid was occupied in a + curious scheme. A thousand Catholic families had been enticed from + Switzerland to form a colony in the beautiful but deserted region called + the Sierra Morena, well known all over Europe by its mention in Don + Quixote. Nature seemed there to have lavished all her gifts; the climate + was perfect, the soil fertile, and streams of all kinds watered the land, + but in spite of all it was almost depopulated. + </p> + <p> + Desiring to change this state of things, his Catholic majesty had decided + to make a present of all the agricultural products for a certain number of + years to industrious colonists. He had consequently invited the Swiss + Catholics, and had paid their expenses for the journey. The Swiss arrived, + and the Spanish government did its best to provide them with lodging and + spiritual and temporal superintendence. Olavides was the soul of this + scheme. He conferred with the ministers to provide the new population with + magistrates, priests, a governor, craftsmen of all kinds to build churches + and houses, and especially a bull-ring, a necessity for the Spaniards, but + a perfectly useless provision as far as the simple Swiss were concerned. + </p> + <p> + In the documents which Don Pablo Olavides had composed on the subject he + demonstrated the inexpediency of establishing any religious orders in the + new colony, but if he could have proved his opinion to be correct with + foot and rule he would none the less have drawn on his head the implacable + hatred of the monks, and of the bishop in whose diocese the new colony was + situated. The secular clergy supported Olavides, but the monks cried out + against his impiety, and as the Inquisition was eminently monkish in its + sympathies persecution had already begun, and this was one of the subjects + of conversation at the dinner at which I was present. + </p> + <p> + I listened to the arguments, sensible and otherwise, which were advanced, + and I finally gave my opinion, as modestly as I could, that in a few years + the colony would banish like smoke; and this for several reasons. + </p> + <p> + “The Swiss,” I said, “are a very peculiar people; if you transplant them + to a foreign shore, they languish and die; they become a prey to + home-sickness. When this once begins in a Switzer, the only thing is to + take him home to the mountain, the lake, or the valley, where he was born, + or else he will infallibly die.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be wise, I think,” I continued, “to endeavour to combine a + Spanish colony with the Swiss colony, so as to effect a mingling of races. + At first, at all events, their rules, both spiritual and temporal, should + be Swiss, and, above all, you would have to insure them complete immunity + from the Inquisition. The Swiss who has been bred in the country has + peculiar customs and manners of love-making, of which the Spanish Church + might not exactly approve; but the least attempt to restrain their liberty + in this respect would immediately bring about a general home-sickness.” + </p> + <p> + At first Olavides thought I was joking, but he soon found out that my + remarks had some sense in them. He begged me to write out my opinions on + the subject, and to give him the benefit of my knowledge. I promised to do + so, and Mengs fixed a day for him to come and dine with me at his house. + </p> + <p> + The next day I moved my household goods to Mengs’s house, and began my + philosophical and physiological treatise on the colony. + </p> + <p> + I called on Don Emmanuel de Roda, who was a man of letters, a ‘rara avis’ + in Spain. He liked Latin poetry, had read some Italian, but very naturally + gave the palm to the Spanish poets. He welcomed me warmly, begged me to + come and see him again, and told me how sorry he had been at my unjust + imprisonment. + </p> + <p> + The Duke of Lossada congratulated me on the way in which the Venetian + ambassador spoke of me everywhere, and encouraged me in my idea of getting + some place under Government, promising to give me his support in the + matter. + </p> + <p> + The Prince della Catolica, invited me to dinner with the Venetian + ambassador; and in the course of three weeks I had made a great number of + valuable acquaintances. I thought seriously of seeking employment in + Spain, as not having heard from Lisbon I dared not go there on the chance + of finding something to do. I had not received any letters from Pauline of + late, and had no idea as to what had become of her. + </p> + <p> + I passed a good many of my evenings with a Spanish lady, named Sabatini, + who gave ‘tertullas’ or assemblies, frequented chiefly by fifth-rate + literary men. I also visited the Duke of Medina-Sidonia, a well-read and + intelligent man, to whom I had been presented by Don Domingo Varnier, one + of the gentlemen of the king’s chamber, whom I had met at Mengs’s house. I + paid a good many visits to Donna Ignazia, but as I was never left alone + with her these visits became tiresome. When I suggested a party of + pleasure with her and her cousins, she replied that she would like it as + much as I, but as it was Lent and near Holy Week, in which God died for + our salvation, it was more fit to think of penance than pleasure. After + Easter, she said, we might consider the matter. Ignazia was a perfect + example of the young Spanish devotee. + </p> + <p> + A fortnight after, the King and Court left Madrid for Aranjuez. M. de + Mocenigo asked me to come and stay with him, as he would be able to + present me at Court. As may be imagined, I should have been only too glad + to accept, but on the eve of my departure, as I was driving with Mengs, I + was suddenly seized with a fever, and was convulsed so violently that my + head was dashed against the carriage window, which it shivered to + fragments. Mengs ordered the coachman to drive home, and I was put to bed. + In four hours I was seized with a sweating fit, which lasted for ten or + twelve hours. The bed and two mattresses were soaked through with my + perspiration, which dripped on to the floor beneath. The fever abated in + forty-eight hours, but left me in such a state of weakness that I was kept + to my bed for a whole week, and could not go to Aranjuez till Holy + Saturday. The ambassador welcomed me warmly, but on the night I arrived a + small lump which I had felt in the course of the day grew as large as an + egg, and I was unable to go to mass on Easter Day. + </p> + <p> + In five days the excrescence became as large as an average melon, much to + the amazement of Manucci and the ambassador, and even of the king’s + surgeon, a Frenchman who declared he had never seen the like before. I was + not alarmed personally, for, as I suffered no pain and the lump was quite + soft, I guessed it was only a collection of lymph, the remainder of the + evil humours which I had sweated away in the fever. I told the surgeon the + history of the fever and begged him to lance the abscess, which he did, + and for four days the opening discharged an almost incredible amount of + matter. On the fifth day the wound was almost healed, but the exhaustion + had left me so weak that I could not leave my bed. + </p> + <p> + Such was my situation when I received a letter from Mengs. It is before me + at the present moment, and I give below a true copy: + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday the rector of the parish in which I reside affixed to the + church-door a list of those of his parishioners who are Atheists and have + neglected their Easter duties. Amongst them your name figures in full, and + the aforesaid rector has reproached me bitterly for harbouring a heretic. + I did not know what answer to make, for I feel sure that you could have + stopped in Madrid a day longer to discharge the duties of a Christian, + even if it were only out of regard for me. The duty I owe to the king, my + master, the care I am bound to take of my reputation, and my fears of + being molested, all make me request you to look upon my house as yours no + longer. When you return to Madrid you may go where you will, and my + servants shall transport your effects to your new abode. + </p> + <p> + “I am, etc., “ANTONIO RAPHAEL MENGS.” + </p> + <p> + I was so annoyed by this rude, brutal, and ungrateful letter, that if I + had not been seven leagues from Madrid, and in a state of the utmost + weakness, Mengs should have suffered for his insolence. I told the + messenger who had brought it to begone, but he replied that he had orders + to await my reply. I crushed the letter in my hand and flung it at his + face, saying,— + </p> + <p> + “Go and tell your unworthy master what I did with his letter, and tell him + that is the only answer that such a letter deserves.” + </p> + <p> + The innocent messenger went his way in great amazement. + </p> + <p> + My anger gave me strength, and having dressed myself and summoned a + sedan-chair I went to church, and was confessed by a Grey Friar, and at + six o’clock the next morning I received the Sacrament. + </p> + <p> + My confessor was kind enough to give me a certificate to the effect that I + had been obliged to keep my bed since my arrival ‘al sitio’, and that in + spite of my extreme weakness I had gone to church, and had confessed and + communicated like a good Christian. He also told me the name of the priest + who had affixed the paper containing my name to the door of the church. + </p> + <p> + When I returned to the ambassador’s house I wrote to this priest, telling + him that the certificate enclosed would inform him as to my reasons for + not communicating. I expressed a hope that, being satisfied of my + orthodoxy, he would not delay in removing my name from his church-doors, + and I concluded by begging him to hand the enclosed letter to the + Chevalier Mengs. + </p> + <p> + To the painter I wrote that I felt that I had deserved the shameful insult + he had given me by my great mistake in acceding to his request to honour + him by staying in his house. However, as a good Christian who had just + received the Holy Communion, I told him that his brutal behaviour was + forgiven; but I bade him to take to heart the line, well known to all + honest people, and doubtless unknown to him: + </p> + <p> + ‘Turpius ejicitur quam non admittitur hospes.’ + </p> + <p> + After sending the letter I told the ambassador what had happened, to which + he replied,— + </p> + <p> + “I am not at all surprised at what you tell me. Mengs is only liked for + his talents in painting; in everything else he is well known to be little + better than a fool.” + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact he had only asked me to stay with him to gratify his + own vanity. He knew that all the town was talking of my imprisonment and + of the satisfaction the Count of Aranda had accorded me, and he wanted + people to think that his influence had obtained the favour that had been + shewn me. Indeed, he had said in a moment of exaltation that I should have + compelled the Alcade Messa to escort me not to my own house but to his, as + it was in his house that I had been arrested. + </p> + <p> + Mengs was an exceedingly ambitious and a very jealous man; he hated all + his brother painters. His colour and design were excellent, but his + invention was very weak, and invention is as necessary to a great painter + as a great poet. + </p> + <p> + I happened to say to him one day, “Just as every poet should be a painter, + so every painter should be a poet;” and he got quite angry, thinking that + I was alluding to his weakness of imagination, which he felt but would not + acknowledge. + </p> + <p> + He was an ignorant man, and liked to pass for a scholar; he sacrificed to + Bacchus and Comus, and would fain be thought sober; he was lustful, + bad-tempered, envious, and miserly, but yet would be considered a virtuous + man. He loved hard work, and this forced him to abstain, as a rule, from + dinner, as he drank so inordinately at that meal that he could do nothing + after it. When he dined out he had to drink nothing but water, so as not + to compromise his reputation for temperance. He spoke four languages, and + all badly, and could not even write his native tongue with correctness; + and yet he claimed perfection for his grammar and orthography, as for all + his other qualities. While I was staying with him I became acquainted with + some of his weak points, and endeavoured to correct them, at which he took + great offence. The fellow writhed under a sense of obligation to me. Once + I prevented his sending a petition to the Court, which the king would have + seen, and which would have made Mengs ridiculous. In signing his name he + had written ‘el mas inclito’, wishing to say your most humble. I pointed + out to him that ‘el mas inclito’ meant the most illustrious, and that the + Spanish for the expression he wanted was ‘el mas humilde’. The proud fool + was quite enraged, telling me that he knew Spanish better than I, but when + the dictionary was searched he had to swallow the bitter pill of + confessing himself in the wrong. + </p> + <p> + Another time I suppressed a heavy and stupid criticism of his on someone + who had maintained that there were no monuments still existing of the + antediluvian period. Mengs thought he would confound the author by citing + the remains of the Tower of Babel—a double piece of folly, for in + the first place there are no such remains, and in the second, the Tower of + Babel was a post-diluvian building. + </p> + <p> + He was also largely given to the discussion of metaphysical questions, on + which his knowledge was simply nil, and a favourite pursuit of his was + defining beauty in the abstract, and when he was on this topic the + nonsense he talked was something dreadful. + </p> + <p> + Mengs was a very passionate man, and would sometimes beat his children + most cruelly. More than once I have rescued his poor sons from his furious + hands. He boasted that his father, a bad Bohemian artist, had brought him + up with the stick. Thus, he said, he had become a great painter, and he + wished his own children to enjoy the same advantages. + </p> + <p> + He was deeply offended when he received a letter, of which the address + omitted his title of chevalier, and his name, Rafael. One day I ventured + to say that these things were but trifles after all, and that I had taken + no offence at his omitting the chevalier on the letters he had written to + me, though I was a knight of the same order as himself. He very wisely + made no answer; but his objection to the omission of his baptismal name + was a very ridiculous one. He said he was called Antonio after Antonio + Correggio, and Rafael after Rafael da Urbino, and that those who omitted + these names, or either of them, implicitly denied his possession of the + qualities of both these great painters. + </p> + <p> + Once I dared to tell him that he had made a mistake in the hand of one of + his figures, as the ring finger was shorter than the index. He replied + sharply that it was quite right, and shewed me his hand by way of proof. I + laughed, and shewed him my hand in return, saying that I was certain that + my hand was made like that of all the descendants of Adam. + </p> + <p> + “Then whom do you think that I am descended from?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, but you are certainly not of the same species as myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean you are not of my species; all well-made hands of men, and women + too, are like mine and not like yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll wager a hundred doubloons that you are in the wrong.” + </p> + <p> + He got up, threw down brushes and palette, and rang up his servants, + saying,— + </p> + <p> + “We shall see which is right.” + </p> + <p> + The servants came, and on examination he found that I was right. For once + in his life, he laughed and passed it off as a joke, saying,— + </p> + <p> + “I am delighted that I can boast of being unique in one particular, at all + events.” + </p> + <p> + Here I must note another very sensible remark of his. + </p> + <p> + He had painted a Magdalen, which was really wonderfully beautiful. For ten + days he had said every morning, “The picture will be finished to-night.” + At last I told him that he had made a mistake in saying it would be + finished, as he was still working on it. + </p> + <p> + “No, I have not,” he replied, “ninety-nine connoisseurs out of a hundred + would have pronounced it finished long ago, but I want the praise of the + hundredth man. There’s not a picture in the world that can be called + finished save in a relative sense; this Magdalen will not be finished till + I stop working at it, and then it will be only finished relatively, for if + I were to give another day’s work to it it would be more finished still. + Not one of Petrarch’s sonnets is a really finished production; no, nor any + other man’s sonnets. Nothing that the mind of man can conceive is perfect, + save it be a mathematical theorem.” + </p> + <p> + I expressed my warm approval of the excellent way in which he had spoken. + He was not so sensible another time when he expressed a wish to have been + Raphael. + </p> + <p> + “He was such a great painter.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said I, “but what can you mean by wishing you had been + Raphael? This is not sense; if you had been Raphael, you would no longer + be existing. But perhaps you only meant to express a wish that you were + tasting the joys of Paradise; in that case I will say no more.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; I mean I would have liked to have been Raphael without troubling + myself about existing now, either in soul or body.” + </p> + <p> + “Really such a desire is an absurdity; think it over, and you will see it + for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + He flew into a rage, and abused me so heartily that I could not help + laughing. + </p> + <p> + Another time he made a comparison between a tragic author and a painter, + of course to the advantage of the latter. + </p> + <p> + I analysed the matter calmly, shewing him that the painter’s labour is to + a great extent purely mechanical, and can be done whilst engaged in casual + talk; whilst a well-written tragedy is the work of genius pure and simple. + Therefore, the poet must be immeasurably superior to the painter. + </p> + <p> + “Find me if you can,” said I, “a poet who can order his supper between the + lines of his tragedy, or discuss the weather whilst he is composing epic + verses.” + </p> + <p> + When Mengs was beaten in an argument, instead of acknowledging his defeat, + he invariably became brutal and insulting. He died at the age of fifty, + and is regarded by posterity as a Stoic philosopher, a scholar, and a + compendium of all the virtues; and this opinion must be ascribed to a fine + biography of him in royal quarto, choicely printed, and dedicated to the + King of Spain. This panegyric is a mere tissue of lies. Mengs was a great + painter, and nothing else; and if he had only produced the splendid + picture which hangs over the high altar of the chapel royal at Dresden, he + would deserve eternal fame, though indeed he is indebted to the great + Raphael for the idea of the painting. + </p> + <p> + We shall hear more of Mengs when I describe my meeting with him at Rome, + two or three years later. + </p> + <p> + I was still weak and confined to my room when Manucci came to me, and + proposed that I should go with him to Toledo. + </p> + <p> + “The ambassador,” he said, “is going to give a grand official dinner to + the ambassadors of the other powers, and as I have not been presented at + Court I am excluded from being present. However, if I travel, my absence + will not give rise to any remarks. We shall be back in five or six days.” + </p> + <p> + I was delighted to have the chance of seeing Toledo, and of making the + journey in a comfortable carriage, so I accepted. We started the next + morning, and reached Toledo in the evening of the same day. For Spain we + were lodged comfortably enough, and the next day we went out under the + charge of a cicerone, who took us to the Alcazar, the Louvre of Toledo, + formerly the palace of the Moorish kings. Afterwards we inspected the + cathedral, which is well worthy of a visit, on account of the riches it + contains. I saw the great tabernacle used on Corpus Christi. It is made of + silver, and is so heavy that it requires thirty strong men to lift it. The + Archbishop of Toledo has three hundred thousand duros a year, and his + clergy have four hundred thousand, amounting to two million francs in + French money. One of the canons, as he was shewing me the urns containing + the relics, told me that one of them contained the thirty pieces of silver + for which Judas betrayed our Lord. I begged him to let me see them, to + which he replied severely that the king himself would not have dared to + express such indecent curiosity. + </p> + <p> + I hastened to apologise, begging him not to take offence at a stranger’s + heedless questions; and this seemed to calm his anger. + </p> + <p> + The Spanish priests are a band of knaves, but one has to treat them with + more respect than one would pay to honest men elsewhere. The following day + we were shewn the museum of natural history. It was rather a dull + exhibition; but, at all events, one could laugh at it without exciting the + wrath of the monks and the terrors of the Inquisition. We were shewn, + amongst other wonders, a stuffed dragon, and the man who exhibited it + said,— + </p> + <p> + “This proves, gentlemen, that the dragon is not a fabulous animal;” but I + thought there was more of art than nature about the beast. He then shewed + us a basilisk, but instead of slaying us with a glance it only made us + laugh. The greatest wonder of all, however, was nothing else than a + Freemason’s apron, which, as the curator very sagely declared, proved the + existence of such an order, whatever some might say. + </p> + <p> + The journey restored me to health, and when I returned to Aranjuez, I + proceeded to pay my court to all the ministers. The ambassador presented + me to Marquis Grimaldi, with whom I had some conversations on the subject + of the Swiss colony, which was going on badly. I reiterated my opinion + that the colony should be composed of Spaniards. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, “but Spain is thinly peopled everywhere, and your plan + would amount to impoverishing one district to make another rich.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, for if you took ten persons who are dying of poverty in the + Asturias, and placed them in the Sierra Morena, they would not die till + they had begotten fifty children. This fifty would beget two hundred and + so on.” + </p> + <p> + My scheme was laid before a commission, and the marquis promised that I + should be made governor of the colony if the plan was accepted. + </p> + <p> + An Italian Opera Comique was then amusing the Court, with the exception of + the king, who had no taste for music. His majesty bore a considerable + resemblance to a sheep in the face, and it seemed as if the likeness went + deeper, for sheep have not the slightest idea of sound. His favourite + pursuit was sport, and the reason will be given later on. + </p> + <p> + An Italian musician at the Court desired to compose some music for a new + opera, and as there was no time to send to Italy I offered to compose the + libretto. My offer was accepted, and by the next day the first act was + ready. The music was composed in four days, and the Venetian ambassador + invited all the ministers to the rehearsal in the grand hall of his + palace. The music was pronounced exquisite; the two other acts were + written, and in a fortnight the opera was put upon the stage. The musician + was rewarded handsomely, but I was considered too grand to work for money + and my reward was paid me in the Court money of compliments. However, I + was glad to see that the ambassador was proud of me and that the + minister’s esteem for me seemed increased. + </p> + <p> + In writing the libretto I had become acquainted with the actresses. The + chief of them was a Roman named Pelliccia, neither pretty nor ugly, with a + slight squint, and but moderate talents. Her younger sister was pretty if + not handsome; but no one cared for the younger, while the elder was a + universal favourite. Her expression was pleasant, her smile delightful, + and her manners most captivating. Her husband was an indifferent painter, + plain-looking, and more like her servant than her husband. He was indeed + her very humble servant, and she treated him with great kindness. The + feelings she inspired me with were not love, but a sincere respect and + friendship. I used to visit her every day, and wrote verses for her to + sing to the Roman airs she delivered so gracefully. + </p> + <p> + On one of the days of rehearsals I was pointing out to her the various + great personages who were present. The manager of the company, Marescalchi + by name, had entered into an arrangement with the Governor of Valentia to + bring the company there in September to play comic opera in a small + theatre which had been built on purpose. Italian opera had hitherto never + been presented at Valentia, and Marecalchi hoped to make a good deal of + money there. Madame Pelliccia knew nobody in Valentia, and wanted a letter + of introduction to someone there. She asked me if I thought she could + venture to ask the Venetian ambassador to do her the favour, but I advised + her to try the Duke of Arcos. + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “That gentleman who is looking in your direction now.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I dare to ask him?” + </p> + <p> + “He is a true nobleman, and I am sure he will be only too happy to oblige + you. Go and ask him now; you will not be denied.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t the courage to do so. Come with me and introduce me.” + </p> + <p> + “That would spoil everything; he must not even think that I am your + adviser in the matter. I am just going to leave you; you must make your + request directly afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + I walked towards the orchestra, and looking round I saw that the duke was + approaching the actress. + </p> + <p> + “The thing’s as good as done,” I said to myself. + </p> + <p> + After the rehearsal was over Madame Pelliccia came and told me that the + Duke would give her the letter on the day on which the opera was produced. + He kept his word, and she received a sealed letter for a merchant and + banker, Don Diego Valencia. + </p> + <p> + It was then May, and she was not to go to Valentia till September, so we + shall hear what the letter contained later on. + </p> + <p> + I often saw the king’s gentleman of the chamber, Don Domingo Varnier, + another gentleman in the service of the Princess of the Asturias, and one + of the princess’s bed-chamber women. This most popular princess succeeded + in suppressing a good deal of the old etiquette, and the tone of her Court + had lost the air of solemnity common in Spanish society. It was a strange + thing to see the King of Spain always dining at eleven o’clock, like the + Parisian cordwainers in the seventeenth century. His meal always consisted + of the same dishes, he always went out hunting at the same hour, coming + back in the evening thoroughly fatigued. + </p> + <p> + The king was ugly, but everything is relative, he was handsome compared + with his brother, who was terrifically ugly. + </p> + <p> + This brother never went anywhere without a picture of the Virgin, which + Mengs had painted for him. It was two feet high by three and a half broad. + The figure was depicted as seated on the grass with legs crossed after the + Eastern fashion, and uncovered up to the knees. It was, in reality, a + voluptuous painting; and the prince mistook for devotion that which was + really a sinful passion, for it was impossible to look upon the figure + without desiring to have the original within one’s arms. However, the + prince did not see this, and was delighted to find himself in love with + the mother of the Saviour. In this he was a true Spaniard; they only love + pictures of this kind, and interpret the passions they excite in the most + favourable sense. + </p> + <p> + At Madrid I had seen a picture of the Madonna with the child at her + breast. It was the altarpiece of a chapel in the Calle St. Jeronimo. The + place was filled all day by the devout, who came to adore the Mother of + God, whose figure was only interesting by reason of her magnificent + breast. The alms given at this chapel were so numerous, that in the + hundred and fifty years, since the picture had been placed there, the + clergy had been able to purchase numerous lamps and candlesticks of + silver, and vessels of silver gilt, and even of gold. The doorway was + always blocked by carriages, and a sentinel was placed there to keep order + amongst the coachmen; no nobleman would pass by without going in to pray + to the Virgin, and to contemplate those ‘beata ubera, quae lactaverunt + aeterni patris filium’. But there came a change. + </p> + <p> + When I returned to Madrid I wanted to pay a visit to the Abbe Pico, and + told my coachman to take another way so as to avoid the crush in front of + the chapel. + </p> + <p> + “It is not so frequented now, senor,” said he, “I can easily get by it.” + </p> + <p> + He went on his way, and I found the entrance to the chapel deserted. As I + was getting out of the carriage I asked my coachman what was the reason of + the change, and he replied,— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, senor! men are getting more wicked every day.” + </p> + <p> + This reason did not satisfy me, and when I had taken my chocolate with the + abbe, an intelligent and venerable old man, I asked him why the chapel in + question had lost its reputation. + </p> + <p> + He burst out laughing, and replied,— + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, I really cannot tell you. Go and see for yourself; your + curiosity will soon be satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as I left him I went to the chapel, and the state of the picture + told me all. The breast of the Virgin had disappeared under a kerchief + which some profane brush had dared to paint over it. The beautiful picture + was spoilt; the magic and fascination had disappeared. Even the teat had + been painted out; the Child held on to nothing, and the head of the Virgin + no longer appeared natural. + </p> + <p> + This disaster had taken place at the end of the Carnival of 1768. The old + chaplain died, and the Vandal who succeeded him pronounced the painting to + be a scandalous one, and robbed it of all its charm. + </p> + <p> + He may have been in the right as a fool, but as a Christian and a Spaniard + he was certainly in the wrong, and he was probably soon convinced of the + mistake he had made by the diminution in the offerings of the faithful. + </p> + <p> + My interest in the study of human nature made me call on this priest, whom + I expected to find a stupid old man. + </p> + <p> + I went one morning, but instead of being old, the priest was an active, + clever-looking man of thirty, who immediately offered me chocolate with + the best grace imaginable. I refused, as was my duty as a stranger, and + indeed the Spaniards offer visitors chocolate so frequently at all hours, + that if one accepted it all one would be choked. + </p> + <p> + I lost no time in exordiums, but came to the point at once, by saying that + as a lover of paintings I had been grieved at finding the magnificent + Madonna spoilt. + </p> + <p> + “Very likely,” he replied, “but it was exactly the physical beauty of the + picture that rendered it in my eyes unfit to represent one whose aspect + should purify and purge the senses, instead of exciting them. Let all the + pictures in the world be destroyed, if they be found to have caused the + commission of one mortal sin.” + </p> + <p> + “Who allowed you to commit this mutilation? The Venetian State + Inquisitors, even M. Barberigo, though he is a devout man, would have put + you under the Leads for such a deed. The love of Paradise should not be + allowed to interfere with the fine arts, and I am sure that St. Luke + himself (who was a painter, as you know) would condemn you if he could + come to life again.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I needed no one’s leave or license. I have to say mass at that altar + every day, and I am not ashamed to tell you that I was unable to + consecrate. You are a man and a Christian, you can excuse my weakness. + That voluptuous picture drew away my thoughts from holy things.” + </p> + <p> + “Who obliged you to look at it?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not look at it; the devil, the enemy of God, made me see it in + spite of myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you should have mutilated yourself like Origen. Your generative + organs, believe me, are not so valuable as the picture you have ruined.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you insult me.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, I have no intention of doing so.” + </p> + <p> + That young priest shewed me the door with such brusqueness that I felt + sure he would inform against me to the Inquisition. I knew he would have + no difficulty in finding out my name, so I resolved to be beforehand with + him. + </p> + <p> + Both my fear and my resolve were inspired by an incident which I shall + mention as an episode. + </p> + <p> + A few days before, I had met a Frenchman named Segur, who had just come + out of the prisons of the Inquisition. He had been shut up for three years + for committing the following crime: + </p> + <p> + In the hall of his house there was a fountain, composed of a marble basin + and the statue of a naked child, who discharged the water in the same way + as the well-known statue of Brussels, that is to say, by his virile + member. The child might be a Cupid or an Infant Jesus, as you pleased, but + the sculptor had adorned the head with a kind of aureole; and so the + fanatics declared that it was a mocking of God. + </p> + <p> + Poor Segur was accused of impiety, and the Inquisition dealt with him + accordingly. + </p> + <p> + I felt that my fault might be adjudged as great as Segur’s, and not caring + to run the risk of a like punishment I called on the bishop, who held the + office of Grand Inquisitor, and told him word for word the conversation I + had had with the iconoclast chaplain. I ended by craving pardon, if I had + offended the chaplain, as I was a good Christian, and orthodox on all + points. + </p> + <p> + I had never expected to find the Grand Inquisitor of Madrid a kindly and + intelligent, though ill-favoured, prelate; but so it was, and he did + nothing but laugh from the beginning to the end of my story, for he would + not let me call it a confession. + </p> + <p> + “The chaplain,” he said, “is himself blameworthy and unfit for his + position, in that he has adjudged others to be as weak as himself; in + fact, he has committed a wrong against religion. Nevertheless, my dear + son, it was not wise of you to go and irritate him.” As I had told him my + name he shewed me, smilingly, an accusation against me, drawn up by + someone who had witnessed the fact. The good bishop gently chid me for + having called the friar-confessor of the Duke of Medina an ignoramus. He + had refused to admit that a priest might say mass a second time on a high + festival, after breaking his fast, on the command of his sovereign prince, + who, by the hypothesis, had not heard mass before. + </p> + <p> + “You were quite right in your contention,” said the Inquisitor, “but yet + every truth is not good to utter, and it was wrong to call the man an + ignoramus in his presence. For the future you would do well to avoid all + idle discussion on religious matters, both on dogma and discipline. And I + must also tell you, in order that you may not leave Spain with any harsh + ideas on the Inquisition, that the priest who affixed your name to the + church-door amongst the excommunicated has been severely reprimanded. He + ought to have given you a fatherly admonition, and, above all, enquired as + to your health, as we know that you were seriously ill at the time.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon I knelt down and kissed his hand, and went my way, well pleased + with my call. + </p> + <p> + To go back to Aranjuez. As soon as I heard that the ambassador could not + put me up at Madrid, I wrote to the worthy cobbler, Don Diego, that I + wanted a well-furnished room, a closet, a good bed, and an honest servant. + I informed him how much I was willing to spend a month, and said I would + leave Aranjuez as soon as I heard that everything was ready. + </p> + <p> + I was a good deal occupied with the question of colonising the Sierra + Morena; I wrote principally on the subject of the civil government, a most + important item in a scheme for a new colony. My articles pleased the + Marquis Grimaldi and flattered Mocenigo; for the latter hoped that I + should become governor of the colony, and that his embassy would thereby + shine with a borrowed light. + </p> + <p> + My labours did not prevent my amusing myself, and I frequented the society + of those about the Court who could tell me most of the king and royal + family. Don Varnier, a man of much frankness and intelligence, was my + principal source of information. + </p> + <p> + I asked him one day whether the king was fond of Gregorio Squillace only + because he had been once his wife’s lover. + </p> + <p> + “That’s an idle calumny,” he replied. “If the epithet of ‘chaste’ can be + applied to any monarch, Charles III. certainly deserves it better than any + other. He has never touched any woman in his life except his wife, not + only out of respect or the sanctity of marriage, but also as a good + Christian. He has avoided this sin that his soul may remain pure, and so + as not to have the shame of confessing it to his chaplain. He enjoys an + iron constitution, sickness is unknown to him, and he is a thorough + Spaniard in temperament. Ever since his marriage he has paid his duty to + his wife every day, except when the state of her health compelled her to + call for a truce. In such seasons this chaste husband brought down his + fleshly desires by the fatigue of hunting and by abstinence. You can + imagine his distress at being left a widower, for he would rather die than + take a mistress. His only resource was in hunting, and in so planning out + his day that he should have no time left wherein to think of women. It was + a difficult matter, for he cares neither for reading nor writing, music + wearies him, and conversation of a lively turn inspires him with disgust. + </p> + <p> + “He has adopted the following plan, in which he will preserve till his + dying day: He dresses at seven, then goes into his closet and has his hair + dressed. At eight o’clock he says his prayers, then hears mass, and when + this is over he takes chocolate and an enormous pinch of snuff, over which + his big nose ruminates for some minutes; this is his only pinch in the + whole day. At nine o’clock he sees his ministers, and works with them till + eleven. Then comes dinner, which he always takes alone, then a short visit + to the Princess of the Austurias, and at twelve sharp he gets into his + carriage and drives to the hunting-grounds. At seven o’clock he takes a + morsel wherever he happens to be, and at eight o’clock he comes home, so + tired that he often goes to sleep before he can get his clothes off. Thus + he keeps down the desires of the flesh.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor voluntary martyr!” + </p> + <p> + “He thought of marrying a second time, but when Adelaide of France saw his + portrait she was quite frightened and refused him. He was very mortified, + and renounced all thoughts of marriage; and woe to the courtier who should + advise him to get a mistress!” + </p> + <p> + In further speaking of his character Don Domingo told me that the + ministers had good cause for making him inaccessible, as whenever anyone + did succeed in getting at him and asked a favour, he made a point of + granting it, as it was at such times that he felt himself really a king. + </p> + <p> + “Then he is not a hard man, as some say?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. Kings seldom have the reputation they deserve. The most + accessible monarchs are the least generous; they are overwhelmed with + importunate requests, and their first instinct is always to refuse.” + </p> + <p> + “But as Charles III. is so inaccessible he can have no opportunity of + either granting or refusing.” + </p> + <p> + “People catch him when he is hunting; he is usually in a good humour then. + His chief defect is his obstinacy; when he has once made up his mind there + is no changing it. + </p> + <p> + “He has the greatest liking for his brother, and can scarce refuse him + anything, though he must be master in all things. It is thought he will + give him leave to marry for the sake of his salvation; the king has the + greatest horror of illegitimate children, and his brother has three + already.” + </p> + <p> + There were an immense number of persons at Aranjuez, who persecuted the + ministers in the hope of getting employment. + </p> + <p> + “They will go back as they come,” said Don Domingo, “and that is + empty-handed.” + </p> + <p> + “Then they ask impossibilities?” + </p> + <p> + “They don’t ask anything. ‘What do you want?’ says a minister. + </p> + <p> + “‘What your excellency will let me have.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What can you do?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I am ready to do whatever your excellency pleases to think best for me’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Please leave me. I have no time to waste.’” + </p> + <p> + That is always the way. Charles III. died a madman; the Queen of Portugal + is mad; the King of England has been mad, and, as some say, is not really + cured. There is nothing astonishing in it; a king who tries to do his duty + is almost forced into madness by his enormous task. + </p> + <p> + I took leave of M. Mocenigo three days before he left Aranjuez, and I + embraced Manucci affectionately. He had been most kind to me throughout my + stay. + </p> + <p> + My cobbler had written to tell me that for the sum I had mentioned he + could provide me with a Biscayan maid who could cook. He sent me the + address of my new lodging in the Calle Alcala. I arrived there in the + afternoon, having started from Aranjuez in the morning. + </p> + <p> + I found that the Biscayan maid could speak French; my room was a very + pleasant one, with another chamber annexed where I could lodge a friend. + After I had had my effects carried up I saw my man, whose face pleased me. + </p> + <p> + I was anxious to test the skill of my cook, so I ordered her to get a good + supper for me, and I gave her some money. + </p> + <p> + “I have some money,” she replied, “and I will let you have the bill + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + After taking away whatever I had left with Mengs I went to Don Diego’s + house, and to my astonishment found it empty. I went back and asked + Philippe, my man, where Don Diego was staying. + </p> + <p> + “It’s some distance, sir; I will take you there tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is my landlord?” + </p> + <p> + “In the floor above; but they are very quiet people.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “He is gone out and won’t be home till ten.” + </p> + <p> + At nine o’clock I was told that my supper was ready. I was very hungry, + and the neatness with which the table was laid was a pleasant surprise in + Spain. I was sorry that I had had no opportunity of expressing my + satisfaction to Don Diego, but I sat down to supper. Then indeed I thought + the cobbler a hero; the Biscayan maid might have entered into rivalry with + the best cook in France. There were five dishes, including my favourite + delicacy ‘las criadillas’, and everything was exquisite. My lodging was + dear enough, but the cook made the whole arrangement a wonderful bargain. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of supper Philippe told me that the landlord had come in, + and that with my leave he would wish me a good evening. + </p> + <p> + “Shew him in by all means.” + </p> + <p> + I saw Don Diego and his charming daughter enter; he had rented the house + on purpose to be my landlord. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0006" id="linkF2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Amours With Donna Ignazia—Return of M. de Mocenino to + Madrid +</pre> + <p> + All you barons, counts, and marquises who laugh at an untitled man who + calls himself a gentleman, pause and reflect, spare your disdain till you + have degraded him; allow him a gentle title so long as he does gentle + deeds. Respect the man that defines nobility in a new way, which you + cannot understand. With him nobility is not a series of descents from + father to son; he laughs at pedigrees, in which no account is taken of the + impure blood introduced by wifely infidelities; he defines a nobleman as + one who does noble deeds, who neither lies nor cheats, who prefers his + honour to his life. + </p> + <p> + This latter part of the definition should make you tremble for your lives, + if you meditate his dishonour. From imposture comes contempt, from + contempt hatred, from hatred homicide, which takes out the blot of + dishonour. + </p> + <p> + The cobbler Don Diego might have feared, perhaps, that I should laugh at + him, when he told me he was noble; but feeling himself to be really so he + had done his best to prove it to me. The fineness of his behaviour when I + was in prison had given me some idea of the nobility of his soul, but he + was not content with this. On the receipt of my letter, he had taken a new + house only to give up the best part of it to me. No doubt he calculated on + not losing in the long run, as after I had left he would probably have no + difficulty in letting the apartment, but his chief motive was to oblige + me. + </p> + <p> + He was not disappointed; henceforth I treated him entirely as an equal. + Donna Ignazia was delighted at what her father had done for me. We talked + an hour, settling our business relations over a bottle of excellent wine. + I succeeded in my contention that the Biscayan cook should be kept at my + expense. All the same, I wanted the girl to think that she was in Don + Diego’s service, so I begged him to pay her every day, as I should take + all my meals at home, at all events, till the return of the ambassador. I + also told him that it was a penance to me to eat alone, and begged him to + keep me company at dinner and supper every day. He tried to excuse + himself, and at last gave in on the condition that his daughter should + take his place when he had too much work to do. As may be imagined I had + anticipated this condition, and made no difficulty about it. + </p> + <p> + The next morning, feeling curious to see the way in which my landlord was + lodged, I paid him a visit. I went into the little room sacred to Donna + Ignazia. A bed, a chest, and a chair made up the whole furniture; but + beside the bed was a desk before a picture, four feet high, representing + St. Ignatius de Loyola as a fine young man, more calculated to irritate + the sense than to arouse devotion. + </p> + <p> + My cobbler said to me, + </p> + <p> + “I have a much better lodging than I had before; and the rent of your room + pays me for the house four times over.” + </p> + <p> + “How about the furniture and the linen?” + </p> + <p> + “It will all be paid in the course of four years. I hope this house will + be the dower of my daughter. It is an excellent speculation, and I have to + thank you for it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear it; but what is this, you seem to be making new boots?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so; but if you look you will see that I am working on a last which + has been given me. In this way I have not to put them on, nor need I + trouble myself whether they fit well or ill.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do you get?” + </p> + <p> + “Thirty reals.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a larger price than usual.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but there’s a great difference between my work and my leather, and + the usual work and leather of the bootmakers.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will have a last made, and you shall make me a pair of shoes, if + you will; but I warn you they must be of the finest skin, and the soles of + morocco.” + </p> + <p> + “They will cost more, and not last so long.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t help that; I can’t bear any but the lightest boots.” + </p> + <p> + Before I left him he said his daughter should dine with me that day as he + was very busy. + </p> + <p> + I called on the Count of Aranda, who received me coldly, but with great + politeness. I told him how I had been treated by my parish priest and by + Mengs. + </p> + <p> + “I heard about it; this was worse than your imprisonment, and I don’t know + what I could have done for you if you had not communicated, and obliged + the priest to take out your name. Just now they are trying to annoy me + with posters on the walls, but I take no notice.” + </p> + <p> + “What do they want your excellency to do?” + </p> + <p> + “To allow long cloaks and low-crowned hats; you must know all about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I only arrived at Madrid yesterday evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. Don’t come here on Sunday, as my house is to be blown up.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see that, my lord, so I will be in your hall at noon.” + </p> + <p> + “I expect you will be in good company.” + </p> + <p> + I duly went, and never had I seen it so full. The count was addressing the + company, under the last poster threatening him with death, two very + energetic lines were inscribed by the person who put up the poster, + knowing that he was at the same time running his head into the noose: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Si me cogen, me horqueran, + Pero no me cogeran. + + “If they catch me, they will hang me, + So I shall not let them catch me.” + </pre> + <p> + At dinner Donna Ignazia told me how glad she was to have me in the house, + but she did not respond to all my amorous speeches after Philippe had left + the room. She blushed and sighed, and then being obliged to say something, + begged me to forget everything that had passed between us. I smiled, and + said that I was sure she knew she was asking an impossibility. I added + that even if I could forget the past I would not do so. + </p> + <p> + I knew that she was neither false nor hypocritical, and felt sure that her + behaviour proceeded from devotion; but I knew this could not last long. I + should have to conquer her by slow degrees. I had had to do so with other + devotees who had loved me less than she, nevertheless, they had + capitulated. I was therefore sure of Donna Ignazia. + </p> + <p> + After dinner she remained a quarter of an hour with me, but I refrained + from any amorous attempts. + </p> + <p> + After my siesta I dressed, and went out without seeing her. In the evening + when she came in for her father, who had supped with me, I treated her + with the greatest politeness without shewing any ill-humour. The following + day I behaved in the same manner. At dinner she told me she had broken + with her lover at the beginning of Lent, and begged me not to see him if + he called on me. + </p> + <p> + On Whit Sunday I called on the Count of Aranda, and Don Diego, who was + exquisitely dressed, dined with me. I saw nothing of his daughter. I asked + after her, and Don Diego replied, with a smile, that she had shut herself + up in her room to celebrate the Feast of Pentecost. He pronounced these + words in a manner and with a smile that he would not have dared to use if + he had been speaking to a fellow-Spaniard. He added that she would, no + doubt, come down and sup with me, as he was going to sup with his brother. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Don Diego, don’t let there be any false compliments between us. + Before you go out, tell your daughter not to put herself out for me, and + that I do not pretend to put my society in comparison with that of God. + Tell her to keep her room to-night, and she can sup with me another time. + I hope you will take my message to her.” + </p> + <p> + “As you will have it so, you shall be obeyed.” + </p> + <p> + After my siesta, the worthy man said that Donna Ignazia thanked me and + would profit by my kindness, as she did not want to see anyone on that + holy day. + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad she has taken me at my word, and to-morrow I will thank + her for it.” + </p> + <p> + I had some difficulty in shaping my lips to this reply; for this excess of + devotion displeased me, and even made me tremble for her love. I could not + help laughing, however, when Don Diego said that a wise father forgives an + ecstasy of love. I had not expected such a philosophic remark from the + mouth of a Spaniard. + </p> + <p> + The weather was unpleasant, so I resolved to stay indoors. I told Philippe + that I should not want the carriage, and that he could go out. I told my + Biscayan cook that I should not sup till ten. When I was alone I wrote for + some time, and in the evening the mother lit my candles, instead of the + daughter, so in the end I went to bed without any supper. At nine o’clock + next morning, just as I was awaking, Donna Ignazia appeared, to my great + astonishment, telling me how sorry she was to hear that I had not taken + any supper. + </p> + <p> + “Alone, sad, and unhappy,” I replied, “I felt that abstinence was the best + thing for me.” + </p> + <p> + “You look downcast.” + </p> + <p> + “You alone can make me look cheerful.” + </p> + <p> + Here my barber came in, and she left me. I then went to mass at the Church + of the Good Success, where I saw all the handsome courtezans in Madrid. I + dined with Don Diego, and when his daughter came in with dessert he told + her that it was her fault I had gone supperless to bed. + </p> + <p> + “It shall not happen again,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to come with me to our Lady of Atocha?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I should like it very much,” she replied, with a side-glance at her + father. + </p> + <p> + “My girl,” said Don Diego, “true devotion and merriment go together, and + the reason is that the truly devout person has trust in God and in the + honesty of all men. Thus you can trust in Don Jaime as an honest man, + though he has not the good fortune to be born in Spain.” + </p> + <p> + I could not help laughing at this last sentence, but Don Diego was not + offended. Donna Ignazia kissed her father’s hands, and asked if she might + bring her cousin too. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want to take the cousin for?” said Don Diego; “I will answer + for Don Jaime.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind, Don Diego, but if Ignazia likes her cousin to come I + shall be delighted, provided it be the elder cousin, whom I like better + than the younger.” + </p> + <p> + After this arrangement the father went his way, and I sent Philippe to the + stables to put in four mules. + </p> + <p> + When we were alone Ignazia asked me repentantly to forgive her. + </p> + <p> + “Entirely, if you will forgive me for loving you.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, dearest! I think I shall go mad if I keep up the battle any + longer.” + </p> + <p> + “There needs no battle, dearest Ignazia, either love me as I love you, or + tell me to leave the house, and see you no more. I will obey you, but that + will not make you happy.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that. No, you shall not go from your own house. But allow me to + tell you that you are mistaken in your estimate of my cousins’ characters. + I know what influenced you, but you do not know all. The younger is a good + girl, and though she is ugly, she too has succumbed to love. But the + elder, who is ten times uglier, is mad with rage at never having had a + lover. She thought she had made you in love with her, and yet she speaks + evil of you. She reproaches me for having yielded so easily and boasts + that she would never have gratified your passion.” + </p> + <p> + “Say no more, we must punish her; and the younger shall come.” + </p> + <p> + “I am much obliged to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she know that we love each other?” + </p> + <p> + “I have never told her, but she has guessed it, and pities me. She wants + me to join her in a devotion to Our Lady de la Soledad, the effect of + which would be a complete cure for us both.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she is in love, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and she is unhappy in her love, for it is not returned. That must be + a great grief.” + </p> + <p> + “I pity her, and yet, with such a face, I do not know any man who would + take compassion on her. The poor girl would do well to leave love alone. + But as to you. . . .” + </p> + <p> + “Say nothing about me: my danger is greater than hers. I am forced to + defend myself or to give in, and God knows there are some men whom it is + impossible to ward off! God is my witness that in Holy Week I went to a + poor girl with the smallpox, and touched her in the hope of catching it, + and so losing my beauty; but God would not have it so, and my confessor + blamed me, bidding me to do a penance I had never expected.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what it is?” + </p> + <p> + “He told me that a handsome face is the index of a handsome soul, and is a + gift of God, for which a woman should render thanks continually; that in + attempting to destroy this beauty I had sinned, for I had endeavoured to + destroy God’s handiwork. After a good deal of rebuke in this style, he + ordered me to put a little rouge on my cheeks whenever I felt myself + looking pale. I had to submit, and I have bought a pot of rouge, but + hitherto I have not felt obliged to use it. Indeed, my father might notice + it, and I should not like to tell him that it is done by way of penance.” + </p> + <p> + “Is your confessor a young man?” + </p> + <p> + “He is an old man of seventy.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you tell him all your sins without reserve?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, for the smallest circumstance may be really a great sin.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he ask you questions?” + </p> + <p> + “No, for he sees that I am telling him the whole truth. It is a great + trial, but I have to submit to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you had this confessor for long?” + </p> + <p> + “For two years. Before him I had a confessor who was quite unbearable. He + asked me questions which made me quite indignant.” + </p> + <p> + “What questions were these?” + </p> + <p> + “You must please excuse me telling you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you go to confession so often?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Would to God I had not good cause! but after all I only go once a + week.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s too often.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so, for when I am in mortal sin I cannot sleep at night. I am afraid + of dying in my sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “I pity you, dearest; I have a consolation which is denied you. I have an + infinite trust in the infinite mercy of God.” + </p> + <p> + The cousin arrived and we set out. We found a good many carriages in front + of the church-door, and the church itself was full of devotees, both male + and female. Amongst others I saw the Duchess of Villadorias, notorious for + her andromania. When the ‘furor uterinus’ seized her, nothing could keep + her back. She would rush at the man who had excited her, and he had no + choice but to satisfy her passion. This had happened several times in + public assemblies, and had given rise to some extraordinary scenes. I had + seen her at a ball; she was still both young and pretty. As I entered the + church I saw her kneeling on the stones of the church floor. She lifted + her eyes, and gazed at me, as if doubtful whether she knew me or not, as + she had only seen me in domino. After my devotees had prayed for half an + hour, they rose to go, and the duchess rose also; and as soon as we were + out of the church she asked me if I knew her. I replied in the + affirmative, and she asked why I had not been to see her, and if I visited + the Duchess of Benevento. I told her that I did not visit her grace, and + that I should have the honour of paying her a call before long. + </p> + <p> + On our way I explained to my two companions the nature of the duchess’s + malady. Donna Ignazia asked me anxiously if I really meant to go and see + her. She seemed reassured when I replied in the negative. + </p> + <p> + A common and to my mind a ridiculous question is which of the two sexes + enjoys the generative act the more. Homer gives us Jupiter and Juno + disputing on this point. Tiresias, who was once a woman, has given a + correct though amusing decision on the point. A laconic answer has it that + a woman enjoys the act the most because with her it is sharper, repeated + more frequently, and finally because the battle is fought in her field. + She is at the same time an active and passive agent, while action is + indispensable to the pleasure of the man. But the most conclusive reason + is that if the woman’s pleasure were not the greater nature would be + unjust, and she never is or can be unjust. Nothing in this universe is + without its use, and no pleasure or pain is without its compensation or + balance. If woman had not more pleasure than man she would not have more + organs than he. The greater nervous power planted in the female organ is + demonstrated by the andromania to which some women are subject, and which + makes them either Messalines or martyrs. Men have nothing at all similar + to this. + </p> + <p> + Nature has given to women this special enjoyment to compensate for the + pains they have to undergo. What man would expose himself, for the + pleasure he enjoys, to the pains of pregnancy and the dangers of childbed? + But women will do so again and again; so it must be concluded that they + believe the pleasure to outbalance the pain; and so it is clearly the + woman who has the better share in the enjoyment. In spite of this, if I + had the choice of being born again as a woman, I should say no; for in + spite of my voluptuousness, a man has pleasures which a woman cannot + enjoy. Though, indeed, rather than not be born again, I would be a woman, + and even a brute, provided always that I had my memory, for without it I + should no longer be myself. + </p> + <p> + We had some ices, and my two companions returned home with me, well + pleased with the enjoyment I had given them without offending God. Donna + Ignazia, who was delighted with my continence during the day, and + apparently afraid of its not lasting, begged me to invite her cousin to + supper. I agreed, and even did so with pleasure. + </p> + <p> + The cousin was ugly, and also a fool, but she had a great heart and was + sympathetic. I knew that Donna Ignazia had told her all, and as she was no + restraint on me I did not mind her being at supper, while Ignazia looked + upon her as a safeguard. + </p> + <p> + The table had been laid for three, when I heard a step coming up the + stairs. It was the father, and I asked him to sup with us. Don Diego was a + pleasant man, as I have said, but what amused me most of all about him was + his moral maxims. He knew or suspected that I was fond of his daughter, + though in an honourable way; he thought my honour or his daughter’s piety + would be a sufficient safeguard. If he had suspected what had really + happened, I do not think he would ever have allowed us to be together. + </p> + <p> + He sat beside his niece and facing his daughter, and did most of the + talking, for your Spaniard, though grave, is eloquent, and fond of hearing + the fine harmonies of his native tongue. + </p> + <p> + It was very hot, so I asked him to take off his waistcoat, and to tell his + daughter to do just as she would if only he and his wife had been present. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia had not to be entreated long before she took off her + kerchief, but the poor cousin did not like having to shew us her bones and + swarthy skin. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia told her father how much she had enjoyed herself, and how + they had seen the Duchess of Villadorias, who had asked me to come and see + her. + </p> + <p> + The good man began to philosophise and to jest on her malady, and he told + me some stories, germane to the question, which the girls pretended not to + understand. + </p> + <p> + The good wine of La Mancha kept us at table till a late hour, and the time + seemed to pass very quickly. Don Diego told his niece that she could sleep + with his daughter, in the room we were in, as the bed was big enough for + two. I hastened to add that if the ladies would do so I should be + delighted; but Donna Ignazia blushed and said it would not do, as the room + was only separated from mine by a glass door. At this I smiled at Don + Diego, who proceeded to harangue his daughter in a manner which amused me + extremely. He told her that I was at least twenty years older than + herself, and that in suspecting me she had committed a greater sin than if + she allowed me to take some slight liberty. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” he added, “that when you go to confession next Sunday you + will forget to accuse yourself of having wrongfully suspected Don Jaime of + a dishonourable action.” + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia looked at me affectionately, asked my pardon, and said she + would do whatever her father liked. The cousin said nothing, and the + father kissed his daughter, bade me a good night, and went away well + pleased with the harangue he had delivered. + </p> + <p> + I suspected that Donna Ignazia expected me to make some attempt on her + honour, and feeling sure that she would resist for the sake of appearance, + I determined to leave her in peace. Next morning I got up and went into + their room in the hope of playing some trick on them. However, the birds + were flown, and I had no doubt that they had gone to hear mass. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia came home by herself at ten o’clock. She found me alone, + dressed, and writing. She told me she had been in the church for three + hours. + </p> + <p> + “You have been to confession, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I went last Sunday, and I shall wait till next Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad that your confession will not be lengthened by any sins I + have helped you to commit.” + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Wrong? I understand; but you must know that I am not going to be damned + for mere desires. I do not wish to torment you or to become a martyr + myself. What you granted me has made me fall deeply in love with you, and + it makes me shudder when I imagine that our love has become a subject of + repentance with you. I have had a bad night; and it is time for me to + think of my health. I must forget you, but to bring about that effect I + will see you no longer. I will keep on the house, but I will not live in + it. If your religion is an intelligent one, you will approve of my idea. + Tell your confessor of it next Sunday, and you will see that he will + approve it.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, but I cannot agree to it. You can go away if you like, and + I shall say nothing, but I shall be the most unhappy girl in all Madrid.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke these words, two big tears rolled down her cheeks, and her + face dropped; I was profoundly moved. + </p> + <p> + “I love you, dearest Ignazia, and I hope not to be damned for my love. I + cannot see you without loving you and to this love some positive proof is + essential; otherwise, I am unhappy. If I go you say you will be unhappy, + and if I stay it is I that will be unhappy, my health will be ruined. But + tell me which I shall do stay or go? Say.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must be as loving and tender as you were before.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! I promised to commit that sin no more. I tell you to stay, because + I am sure that in eight or ten days we shall have become so accustomed to + one another that I shall be able to love you like a father, and you will + be able to take me in your arms without any amorous sentiments.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure of this?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dearest, quite sure.” + </p> + <p> + “You make a mistake.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me be mistaken, and believe me I shall be glad to be mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Unhappy devotee!” + </p> + <p> + “Why unhappy?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, nothing. I may be too long, I shall endanger . . . let us say no + more about it. I will stay.” + </p> + <p> + I went out more pained with her state than my own, and I felt that the + best thing I could do would be to forget her, “for,” said I to myself, + “even if I do enjoy her once, Sunday will come again; she will confess, + repent, and I shall have to begin all over again. She confessed her love, + and flatters herself that she will be able to subdue it—a foolish + hope, which could only exist in a mind under the dominion of prejudice.” + </p> + <p> + I came home at noon, and Don Diego dined with me; his daughter did not + appear till the dessert. I begged her to sit down, politely, but coldly. + Her father asked her jestingly if I had paid her a visit in the night. + </p> + <p> + “I never suspected Don Jaime of such a thing,” she replied, “and I only + objected out of shyness.” + </p> + <p> + I interrupted her by praising her modesty, and telling her that she would + have done quite right to beware of me, if my sense of duty had not been + stronger than any voluptuous desires inspired by her charms. + </p> + <p> + Don Diego pronounced this declaration of love as good as anything to be + found in the “Morte d’Arthur.” + </p> + <p> + His daughter said I was laughing at her, but Don Diego said he was certain + that I was in earnest, and that I had known her before taking her to the + ball. + </p> + <p> + “You are utterly mistaken,” said Donna Ignazia, with some degree of fire. + </p> + <p> + “Your father is wiser than you, senora,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “What! How and when did you see me?” + </p> + <p> + “At the church where I heard mass, and you communicated, when you went out + with your cousin. I followed you at some distance; you can guess the + rest.” + </p> + <p> + She was speechless, and her father enjoyed the consciousness of his + superior intellect. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to see the bull fight,” said he; “it’s a fine day, and all + Madrid will be there, so one must go early to get a good place. I advise + you to go, as you have never seen a bull fight; ask Don Jaime to take you + with him, Ignazia.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to have my companionship?” said she, tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I would, but you must bring your cousin, as I am in love with + her.” + </p> + <p> + Don Diego burst out laughing, but Ignazia said, slyly, + </p> + <p> + “It is not so impossible after all.” + </p> + <p> + We went to see the splendid but barbarous spectacle in which Spaniards + take so much delight. The two girls placed themselves in front of the only + vacant box, and I sat behind on the second bench, which was a foot and a + half higher than the first. There were already two ladies there, and much + to my amusement one of them was the famous Duchess of Villadorias. She was + in front of me, and sat in such a position that her head was almost + between my legs. She recognized me, and said we were fortunate in meeting + one another; and then noticing Donna Ignazia, who was close to her, she + congratulated me in French on her charms, and asked me whether she was my + mistress or my wife. I replied that she was a beauty before whom I sighed + in vain. She replied, with a smile, that she was rather a sceptical + person; and turning to Donna Ignazia began a pleasant and amorous + discourse, thinking the girl to be as learned in the laws of love as + herself. She whispered something in her ear which made Ignazia blush, and + the duchess, becoming enthusiastic, told me I had chosen the handsomest + girl in Madrid, and that she would be delighted to see us both at her + country house. + </p> + <p> + I promised to come, as I was obliged to do, but I begged to be excused + naming the day. Nevertheless, she made me promise to call on her at four + o’clock the next day, telling me, much to my terror, that she would be + alone. She was pretty enough, but too notorious a character; and such a + visit would have given rise to talk. + </p> + <p> + Happily the fight began, and silence became general, for the Spaniards are + passionately devoted of bull fighting. + </p> + <p> + So much has been written on the subject that my readers will pardon my + giving a detailed account of the fight. I may say that the sport is, in my + opinion, a most barbarous one, and likely to operate unfavourably on the + national morals; the arena is sometimes drenched in the blood of bulls, + horses, and even of the unfortunate picadores and matadores, whose sole + defence is the red rag with which they irritate the bull. + </p> + <p> + When it was over I escorted the girls—who had enjoyed themselves + immensely—back to the house, and made the ugly cousin stay to + supper, as I foresaw that they would again sleep together. + </p> + <p> + We supped together, but it was a melancholy affair, for Don Diego was + away, and I did not feel in the humour to amuse my company. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia became pensive when, in reply to a question of hers, I said + that it would be absolutely rude of me not to go to the duchess’s. + </p> + <p> + “You will come with me some day,” I added, “to dine at her country house.” + </p> + <p> + “You need not look for that.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because she is a madwoman. She talked to me in a way that would have + offended me if I did not know that she fancied she was honouring me by + laying aside her rank.” + </p> + <p> + We rose from table, and after I had dismissed my man we sat on the balcony + to wait for Don Diego and to enjoy the delicious evening breezes. + </p> + <p> + As we sat near to each other in the twilight, so favourable to lovers’ + vows, I looked into Donna Ignazia’s eyes, and saw there that my hour had + come. I clasped her to me with one arm, I clung with my lips to hers, and + by the way she trembled I guessed the flame which consumed her. + </p> + <p> + “Will you go and see the duchess?” + </p> + <p> + “No, if you will promise me not to go to confession next Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + “But what will he say if I do not go?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all, if he understands his business. But let us talk it over a + little.” + </p> + <p> + We were so tightly clasped together that the cousin, like a good girl, + left us, and went to the other end of the balcony, taking care to look + away from us. + </p> + <p> + Without changing my position, in spite of the temptation to do so, I asked + her if she felt in the humour to repent of the sin she was ready to + commit. + </p> + <p> + “I was not thinking of repentance just then, but as you remind me of it, I + must tell you that I shall certainly go to confession.” + </p> + <p> + “And after you have been to confession will you love me as you love me + now?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope God will give me strength to offend Him no more.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you that if you continue loving me God will not give you grace, + yet I feel sure that on Sunday evening you will refuse me that which you + are now ready to grant.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I will, sweetheart; but why should we talk of that now?” + </p> + <p> + “Because if I abandon myself to pleasure now I shall be more in love with + you than ever, and consequently more unhappy than ever, when the day of + your repentance comes. So promise me that you will not go to confession + whilst I remain at Madrid, or give the fatal order now, and bid me leave + you. I cannot abandon myself to love to-day knowing that it will be + refused me on Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + As I remonstrated thus, I clasped her affectionately in my arms, caressing + her most ardently; but before coming to the decisive action I asked her + again whether she would promise not to go to confession next Sunday. + </p> + <p> + “You are cruel,” said she, “I cannot make you that promise for my + conscience sake.” + </p> + <p> + At this reply, which I had quite expected, I remained motionless, feeling + sure that she must be in a state of desperate irritation at the work half + begun and not concluded. I, too, suffered, for I was at the door of the + sanctuary, and a slight movement would have sent me into the inmost + shrine; but I knew that her torments must be greater than mine, and that + she could not resist long. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia was indeed in a terrible state; I had not repulsed her, but + I was perfectly inactive. Modesty prevented her asking me openly to + continue, but she redoubled her caresses, and placed herself in an easier + position, reproaching me with my cruelty. I do not know whether I could + have held out much longer, but just then the cousin turned round and told + us that Don Diego was coming in. + </p> + <p> + We hastened to arrange our toilette, and to sit in a decent position. The + cousin came up to us, and Don Diego, after making a few remarks, left us + on the balcony, wishing us a good night. I might have begun over again, + but I clung to my system of repression, and after wishing the girls good + night with a melancholy air, I went to bed. + </p> + <p> + I hoped Donna Ignazia would repent and come and keep me company, but I was + disappointed. They left their room early in the morning, and at noon Don + Diego came to dine with me, saying his daughter had such a bad headache + that she had not even gone to mass. + </p> + <p> + “We must get her to eat something.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I think abstinence will do her good, and in the evening I daresay she + will be able to sup with you.” + </p> + <p> + I went to keep her company by her bedside after I had taken my siesta. I + did my best for three hours to convince her of her folly; but she kept her + eyes closed, and said nothing, only sighing when I said something very + touching. + </p> + <p> + I left her to walk in St. Jerome’s Park, and told her that if she did not + sup with me I should understand that she did not wish to see me again. + This threat had its effect. She came to table at supper-time, but she + looked pale and exhausted. She ate little, and said nothing, for she knew + not what to say. I saw that she was suffering, and I pitied her from my + heart. + </p> + <p> + Before going to bed she asked me if I had been to see the duchess. She + seemed somewhat cheered when I answered in the negative. I told her that + she might satisfy herself of the truth of my reply by asking Philippe, who + had taken my note begging her grace to excuse me for that day. + </p> + <p> + “But will you go another day?” + </p> + <p> + “No, dearest, because I see it would grieve you.” + </p> + <p> + She gave a sigh of content, and I embraced her gently, and she left me as + sad as I was. + </p> + <p> + I could see that what I asked of her was a great deal; but I had good + grounds for hope, as I knew her ardent disposition. It was not God and I + that were disputing for her, but her confessor and I. If she had not been + a Catholic I should have won her the first day. + </p> + <p> + She had told me that she would get into trouble with her confessor if she + did not go to him as usual; she had too much of fine Spanish honour in her + to tell him what was not true, or to endeavour to combine her love with + her religion. + </p> + <p> + The Friday and the Saturday passed without any events of consequence. Her + father, who could not blind himself to our love any longer, trusted, I + suppose, to his daughter’s virtue, and made her dine and sup with me every + day. On Saturday evening Donna Ignazia left me sadder than ever, and + turned her head away when I would have kissed her as usual. I saw what was + the matter; she was going to communicate the next day. I admired her + consistency, in spite of myself, and pitied her heartily; for I could + guess the storm that must be raging in her breast. I began to repent + having demanded all, and wished I had been contented with a little. + </p> + <p> + I wished to be satisfied with my own eyes, and got up early on Sunday + morning and followed her. I knew that she would call for her cousin, so I + went on to the church. I placed myself by the sacristy-door, where I could + see without being seen. + </p> + <p> + I waited a quarter of an hour, then they came in, and after kneeling down + for a few moments, separated, each going to her own confessor. + </p> + <p> + I only noticed Donna Ignazia; I saw her going to the confessional, and the + confessor turning towards her. + </p> + <p> + I waited patiently. I thought the confession would never come to an end. + “What is he saying?” I repeated to myself as I saw the confessor speaking + to her now and again. + </p> + <p> + I could bear it no longer, and I was on the point of going away when I saw + her rise from her knees. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia, looking like a saint, came to kneel in the church, but out + of my sight. I thought she would come forward to receive the Holy + Communion at the end of the Mass that was being said, but instead of that + she went towards the door, rejoined her cousin and they left the church. I + was astonished. My heart was seized with a pang of remorse. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all over,” I said to myself. “The poor girl has made a sincere and + full confession, she has avowed her love, and the priest’s cruel duty has + made him refuse her absolution. + </p> + <p> + “All is lost. What will come of it? + </p> + <p> + “My peace of mind and hers require me to leave her. + </p> + <p> + “Wretch that I am, to have lost all for all! I should have made allowance + for the peculiar Spanish character. + </p> + <p> + “I might have enjoyed her by surprise now and again; the difficulty would + have added piquancy to the intrigue. I have behaved as if I were once more + twenty, and I have lost all. + </p> + <p> + “At dinner she will be all sad and tearful. I must find some way out of + this terrible situation.” + </p> + <p> + Thus soliloquising, I came home ill pleased with the line of conduct I had + adopted. + </p> + <p> + My hairdresser was waiting for me, but I sent him away, and told my cook + not to serve my dinner till I ordered it; then, feeling the need of rest, + I flung myself on my bed and slept profoundly till one o’clock. + </p> + <p> + I got up and ordered dinner to be brought in, and sent a message to the + father and daughter that I was expecting them. + </p> + <p> + My surprise may be imagined when Donna Ignazia appeared in a costume of + black velvet, adorned with ribbons and lace. In my opinion there is no + more seductive costume in Europe when the wearer is pretty. + </p> + <p> + I also noticed that every feature of her face breathed peace and calm; I + had never seen her looking so well, and I could not help congratulating + her. She replied with a smile, and I gave her a kiss, which she took as + meekly as a lamb. + </p> + <p> + Philippe arrived, and we sat down to table. I saw that my fair sweetheart + had crossed the Rubicon; the day was won. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to be happy,” said she, “but let us say nothing, and it will + come of itself.” + </p> + <p> + However, I did not conceal my bliss, and made love to her whenever the + servant was out of the room. She was not only submissive, but even ardent. + </p> + <p> + Before we left the table she asked me if I still loved her. + </p> + <p> + “More than ever, darling; I adore you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then take me to the bull fight.” + </p> + <p> + “Quick! Fetch the hairdresser.” + </p> + <p> + When my hair was done I made an elaborate toilette, and burning with + impatience we set out on foot, as I was afraid we should not secure a good + place if we waited till the carriage was ready. We found a fine box with + only two persons in it, and Ignazia, after glancing round, said she was + glad that the detestable duchess was not anywhere near us. + </p> + <p> + After some fine sport my mistress begged me to take her to the Prado, + where all the best people in Madrid are to be seen. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia leant on my arm, seemed proud to be thought mine, and filled + me with delight. + </p> + <p> + All at once we met the Venetian ambassador and his favourite, Manucci. + They had just arrived from Aranjuez. We greeted each other with due + Spanish politeness, and the ambassador paid me a high compliment on the + beauty of my companion. Donna Ignazia pretended not to understand, but she + pressed my arm with Spanish delicacy. + </p> + <p> + After walking a short distance with us M. de Mocenigo said he hoped I + would dine with him on the following day, and after I had nodded + acquiescence in the French style we parted. + </p> + <p> + Towards the evening we took some ices and returned home, and the gentle + pressure of my arm on the way prepared me for the bliss I was to enjoy. + </p> + <p> + We found Don Diego on the balcony waiting for us. He congratulated his + daughter on her pleasant appearance and the pleasure she must have taken + in my society. + </p> + <p> + Charmed with papa’s good humour, I asked him to sup with us, and he + accepted, and amused us with his witty conversation and a multitude of + little tales that pleased me exceedingly. He made the following speech on + leaving us, which I give word for word, but I cannot give the reader any + idea of the inimitable Spanish gravity with which it was delivered. + </p> + <p> + “Amigo Senior Don Jaime, I leave you here to enjoy the cool air with my + daughter. I am delighted at your loving her, and you may be assured that I + shall place no obstacle in the way of your becoming my son-in-law as soon + as you can shew your titles of nobility.” + </p> + <p> + When he was gone, I said to his daughter,— + </p> + <p> + “I should be only too happy, if it could be managed; but you must know + that in my country they only are called nobles who have an hereditary + right to rule the state. If I had been born in Spain I should be noble, + but as it is I adore you, and I hope you will make me happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dearest, but we must be happy together; I cannot suffer any + infidelity.” + </p> + <p> + “I give you my word of honour that I will be wholly faithful to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come then, ‘corazon mio’, let us go in.” + </p> + <p> + “No, let us put out the lights, and stay here a quarter of an hour. Tell + me, my angel, whence comes this unexpected happiness?” + </p> + <p> + “You owe it to a piece of tyranny which drove me to desperation. God is + good, and I am sure He would not have me become my own executioner. When I + told my confessor that I could not help loving you, but that I could + restrain myself from all excess of love, he replied that this + self-confidence was misplaced, as I had already fallen. He wanted me to + promise never to be alone with you again, and on my refusing to do so he + would not give me absolution. + </p> + <p> + “I have never had such a piece of shame cast on me, but I laid it all in + the hands of God, and said, ‘Thy will be done.’ + </p> + <p> + “Whilst I heard mass my mind was made up, and as long as you love me I + shall be yours, and yours only. When you leave Spain and abandon me to + despair, I shall find another confessor. My conscience holds me guiltless; + this is my comfort. My cousin, whom I have told all, is astonished, but + then she is not very clever.” + </p> + <p> + After this declaration, which put me quite at my ease, and would have + relieved me of any scruples if I had had them, I took her to my bed. In + the morning, she left me tired out, but more in love with her than ever. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0009" id="linkF2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <a name="linkepisode27" id="linkepisode27"></a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EPISODE 27 — EXPELLED FROM SPAIN + </h2> + <a name="linkF2HCH0007" id="linkF2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I Make a Mistake and Manucci Becomes My Mortal Foe—His + Vengeance—I Leave Madrid—Saragossa—Valentia—Nina— + I Arrive at Barcelona +</pre> + <a name="linkFimage-0003" id="linkFimage-0003"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/6c07.jpg" width="100%" alt="Chapter 7 " /> + </div> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “But we can do good business together, and you cannot possibly be + moneyless.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know anything about good business, but I do know that I want my + money and cannot part with it.” + </p> + <p> + “We are at our wits’ end to quiet our landlord; come and speak to him.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + A few days later the baron opened his soul to Manucci. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + One morning Manucci came to see me in evident perturbation. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot follow your advice. Here are the hundred pistoles. Take them to + him and get a receipt.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Manucci (honouring me, by the way, with the title of ungrateful traitor) + said that the baron’s letter had excited his curiosity and 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You may,” I said, “have me assassinated if you like, but I shall not + leave Madrid till its suits me to do so.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + This was an unexpected blow, but after it I was prepared for anything. + </p> + <p> + I drove to the Abbe Bigliardi, but the lackey, after taking in my name, + informed me that his master was out. + </p> + <p> + I got into my carriage and went to Varnier, who said he wanted to speak to + me. + </p> + <p> + “Come into my carriage,” said I, “we will go and hear mass together.” + </p> + <p> + On our way he told me that the Venetian ambassador, Mocenigo, had warned + the Duke of Medina Sidonia that I was a dangerous character. + </p> + <p> + “The duke,” he added, “replied that he would cease to know you as soon as + he found out the badness of your character himself.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Varnier pitied me, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I shuddered, for in my then state of mind I drew the most sinister + conclusions from the message. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What have you been doing to offend your ambassador?” he began. + </p> + <p> + “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’.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel it to my sorrow, my lord, but must I leave Madrid?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “‘He has calumniated a Venetian subject whom I am bound to protect,’ said + he. + </p> + <p> + “‘In that case,’ I replied, ‘you can resort to the ordinary law, and + punish him to the best of your ability.’ + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “My lord, I have much pleasure in giving your excellency my word of honour + not to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Donna Ignazia had more of my company than ever, and congratulated me on my + freedom from the cares of business. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “There are only ruins there, senor.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just what I want to see.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall never get to Valentia to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Here’s a crown; we shall get there to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The crown settled everything, and the man exclaimed, + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “This place,” said the priest, “is always called Murviedro.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Old Castille is more ancient than New Castille.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The poor priest took refuge in silence; shaking his head, and evidently + taking me for a madman. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The next day I remarked the mosaic pavement, which had been discovered + twenty years before. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + A furious revolution, a terrible shock, a conquest of regeneration; your + case is past gentle methods, it needs the cautery and the fire. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-five thousand doubloons?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The letter was a brief one: + </p> + <p> + “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” + </p> + <p> + We remained in a state of perfect stupefaction. Donna Pelliccia returned + the epistle to the banker, who bowed and took his leave. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Don Diego had gone, we began to discuss the duke’s noble + behaviour. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “The duke would be offended,” said a violinist; “I think you ought to take + something.” + </p> + <p> + “You must take it all,” said the husband. + </p> + <p> + I was of the lady’s opinion, and told her that I was sure the duke would + reward her delicacy by making her fortune. + </p> + <p> + She followed my advice and her own impulse, though the banker remonstrated + with her. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you never gave her twenty-five thousand doubloons?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + There was a knight of Alcantara at my side, and I asked him who the lady + was. + </p> + <p> + “She is the famous Nina.” + </p> + <p> + “How famous?” + </p> + <p> + “If you do not know her story, it is too long to be told here.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “From your accent I should suppose you were an Italian.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a Venetian.” + </p> + <p> + “So is she.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I should hope she does not spend them.” + </p> + <p> + “She can’t do that, but she does not let a day pass without committing + some expensive act of folly.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I promised to come, and I kept my word. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + As I advanced I heard an imperious voice scolding some one. + </p> + <p> + The scold was Nina, who was abusing an astonished-looking man, who was + standing by a large table covered with stuffs and laces. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” said she, “but this fool of a Spaniard wants to persuade me + that this lace is really handsome.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said the tradesman, “if you do not like the lace, leave it; will + you keep the stuffs?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied; “and as for the lace, I will shew you that it is not + the money that deters me.” + </p> + <p> + So saying the mad girl took up a pair of scissors and cut the lace into + fragments. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Be silent, you pimping rogue!” said she, enforcing her words with a + sturdy box on the ear. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The man did not want telling twice, and avenged himself for the abuse he + had received by the inordinate length of his bill. + </p> + <p> + She took up the account and placed her initials at the bottom without + deigning to look at the items, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Go to Don Diego Valencia; he will pay you immediately.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + I thought I must be dreaming; such a woman seemed to me beyond the limits + of the possible. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “My father,” she said, “was the famous charlatan Pelandi; you may have + known him at Venice.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Nina, too, had undressed, and seeing that I viewed the orgy coldly she + proceeded to satiate her desires by means of Molinari. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “That may be so, but now he is not here, and yet you do nothing. One would + not think it, to look at you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What! you do not love him, and yet you make use of him in the way you + do?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, just as I might use a mechanical instrument.” + </p> + <p> + In this woman I saw an instance of the depths of degradation to which + human nature may be brought. + </p> + <p> + She asked me to sup with her on the following day, telling me that we + would be alone, as Molinari would be ill. + </p> + <p> + “He will have got over the effects of the wine.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you he will be ill. Come to-morrow, and come every evening.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going the day after to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not go for a week, and then we will go together.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “If you go you will insult me beyond bearing.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The next day I went to her at seven o’clock in the evening. She received + me with an air of feigned melancholy, saying,— + </p> + <p> + “Alas! we shall have to sup alone; Molinari has got the colic.” + </p> + <p> + “You said he would be ill; have you poisoned him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite capable of doing so, but I hope I never shall.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have given him something?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going away at seven o’clock to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, you are not; and your coachman will have no cause for complaint, + for he has been paid; here is the receipt.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What astonishes me,” said I, “is that with this fine house you do not + care to entertain company.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He will tell him that I have supped alone with you.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better; are you afraid?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I think you ought to tell me if I have anything really to fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all; it will fall on me.” + </p> + <p> + “But I should not like to involve you in a dispute which might be + prejudicial to your interests.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t love him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to ruin him; but he is so rich that there doesn’t seem much hope of + my ever doing that.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I determined to make some money out of her if I could. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 an + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + We shall see soon what was the result of all this. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0008" id="linkF2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Imprudence—Passano—I Am Imprisoned—My Departure from + Barcelona—Madame Castelbajac at Montpellier—Nimes— + I Arrive at Aix +</pre> + <a name="linkFimage-0004" id="linkFimage-0004"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/6c08.jpg" width="100%" alt="Chapter 8 " /> + </div> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am astonished to hear it, for no one but myself can say what I can + afford or not.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, everything is paid for.” + </p> + <p> + “Paid for! I will not have it!” + </p> + <p> + “You can settle that with her, but I shall certainly take no payment.” + </p> + <p> + I saw dangers ahead, but as I have never cared to cherish forbodings I + dismissed the idea. + </p> + <p> + 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 Peralada. The day after Don Miguel introduced me to the Comte + de Ricla, Viceroy of Catalonia, and the lover of Nina. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The count received me with an easy and cordial 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. + </p> + <p> + He took me to his stables, where he had some splendid horses, and then + asked me to dine with him the next day. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Nina had just been supping with her lover, who had left her at ten + o’clock, according to his invariable custom. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear it, but I do not think you are wise in inviting me to + your house at such late hours.” + </p> + <p> + “I only do so to avoid scandal amongst my neighbours.” + </p> + <p> + “In my opinion my coming so late is only likely to increase the + probability of scandal, and to make your viceroy jealous.” + </p> + <p> + “He will never hear of your coming.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Speak, sir,” I replied, “I will take whatever you say in good part.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What risk do I run? I have no doubt that the count knows all about it and + does not object.” + </p> + <p> + “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 . . . + </p> + <p> + “Follow my advice, sir, and forgive my freedom.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The count will never do such a thing; he is too careful of his dignity.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “He’s a painter.” + </p> + <p> + “I am well acquainted with his history, and will tell you all about it + presently; but send him away, or I shall go.” + </p> + <p> + She called her sister, and told her to order the Genoese to leave the + house and never to enter it again. + </p> + <p> + The thing was done in a moment, but the sister told us that as he went + out he had said,— + </p> + <p> + “Se ne pentira.” (“He shall be sorry for it.”). + </p> + <p> + I occupied an hour in relating some of the injuries I had received from + this scoundrelly fellow. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I think your best plan would be to fly Barcelona immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you think I have not told you the strict truth?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you have; but I know whence the blow comes, and God knows what + will befall you!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I have no intention of resisting,” I replied. “By whose authority do you + ask me for my papers?” + </p> + <p> + “By the authority of the governor. They will be returned to you if nothing + suspicious is found amongst them.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going to take me?” + </p> + <p> + “To the citadel.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “These are all the papers I have,” I said. I locked the box and gave the + officer the key. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Only my passports.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s exactly what we want,” he rejoined, with a grim smile. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + On the way I told him of my adventure of the night before; he listened + attentively but made no comments. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I had scarcely been there ten minutes when my carpet bag and an excellent + bed were brought in. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I was alone I began to think over the situation. I finished + where I ought to have begun. + </p> + <p> + “What can this imprisonment have to do with my last night’s adventure?” I + reflected. + </p> + <p> + I could not make out the connection. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “The affair of my attempted assassination will, no doubt, be considered + separately. + </p> + <p> + “Even if the rascal is dead, I do not see what they can do to me. + </p> + <p> + “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? + </p> + <p> + “It is possible that Ricla may have vowed my ruin, but it does not seem + probable to me. + </p> + <p> + “Would it have been wise to follow the landlord’s advice? + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “As for my passports they all speak in my favour. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I write to Nina? Will writing be allowed here?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + On reflection, I was well pleased at the turn affairs had taken. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What is that, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I have received orders to transfer you to the bottom of the tower.” + </p> + <p> + “To transfer me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then they must have discovered in me a criminal of the deepest dye! Let + us go at once.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “How about lights?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Have these orders been given for my especial benefit?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; it is the ordinary rule. You will be able to converse with the + sentinel.” + </p> + <p> + “The door will be open, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all.” + </p> + <p> + “How about the cleanliness of my cell?” + </p> + <p> + “A soldier will accompany the officer in charge of your dinner, and he + will attend to your wants for a trifle.” + </p> + <p> + “May I amuse myself by making architectural plans with the pencil?” + </p> + <p> + “As much as you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Then will you be good enough to order some paper to be bought for me?” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + I was most heartily amused during my imprisonment, and in the following + manner: + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I have spoken to the lady,” said Tadini, “and I have mentioned your name + as a person who will answer for me.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But you know I am an oculist.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” said the old professor. + </p> + <p> + “A substance which I can place in the cornea to supply the loss of the + crystalline matter.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “As you want to hear it,” said I, “here it is.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I am not a dentist.” + </p> + <p> + “No, nor an oculist either.” + </p> + <p> + At this the ignorant rascal got up and left the room, and it was decidedly + the best thing he could do. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + This made Tadini furious, and he set upon the old professor in the street + and forced him to the refuge in a house. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What have you done with your crystals?” + </p> + <p> + “I have renounced them since I left Warsaw, though I am sure they would + succeed.” + </p> + <p> + I never heard of him again. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Where are we going?” + </p> + <p> + “I am about to deliver you to an officer of the viceroy, who is waiting.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I knew that all along.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so, but we had reasons for doubting their authenticity.” + </p> + <p> + “They must have been strange reasons, for, as you now confess, these + reasons were devoid of reason.” + </p> + <p> + “You must be aware that I cannot reply to such an objection.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t ask you to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Your character is perfectly clear; all the same I must request you to + leave Barcelona in three days, and Catalonia in a week.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I will obey; but it strikes me that the Catalonian method of + repairing injustice is somewhat peculiar.” + </p> + <p> + “If you think you have ground for complaint you are at liberty to go to + Madrid and complain to the Court.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Accompanied by the officer and a servant bearing my portmanteau, I + proceeded to my old inn. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The officer asked me if I had any complaints to make, and I replied that I + had none. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + I shook his hand, and assured him of my esteem. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + I went back to my inn, and asked my landlord to bring the bill. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you know how long I should remain in prison?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I was paid by the week.” + </p> + <p> + “Who paid you?” + </p> + <p> + “You know very well.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you had any note for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all.” + </p> + <p> + “What has become of the valet de place?” + </p> + <p> + “I paid him, and sent him away immediately after your arrest.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to have him with me as far as Perpignan.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What do they say about my assassination?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s an amusing theory. Where did my hat come from?” + </p> + <p> + “It was brought to me three days after.” + </p> + <p> + “What a confusion! But was it known that I was imprisoned in the tower?” + </p> + <p> + “Everybody knew it, and two good reasons were given, the one in public, + and the other in private.” + </p> + <p> + “What are these reasons?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You might have sworn that I never slept out of your inn.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to go to the opera this evening; take me a box.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall be done; but do not have anything more to do with Nina, I + entreat you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, my good friend, I have made up my mind to see her no more.” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “—Genoa, November 30th, 1768.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + Ascanio Pogomas, or Passano, had been released at the end of November, and + had then been embarked on a felucca bound for Toulon. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + This order undoubtedly came from the viceroy, and everybody knew the + reason. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Petrarch says,— + </p> + <p> + ‘Amor che fa gentile un cor villano’. + </p> + <p> + If he had known the lover of Nina he would have changed the line into + </p> + <p> + ‘Amor che fa villan un cor gentile’. + </p> + <p> + In four months I shall be able to throw some more light on this strange + business. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I wrote to the abbe, who was unknown to me, but I never succeeded in + finding out the truth about this letter. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I presented myself accordingly, and the porter told me that the ambassador + had left verbal orders that I was not to have a passport. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I do not know whether these gentlemen shewed my letters to Querini, but I + do know that the secretary Oliviera sent me my passport. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the Count Aranda furnished me with a passport signed by the + king. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I may be,” I said, “but what makes you ask that question?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do to avoid assassination, or the dread of it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + My hair stood on end. There could be no more doubt about the matter. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I told my servant to shew no sign, but to ask the driver to come and speak + with me when the assassins were asleep. + </p> + <p> + He came at ten o’clock, and told me plainly that we should be all murdered + as we approached the French frontier. + </p> + <p> + “Then you have been drinking with them?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they doing now?” + </p> + <p> + “They are sleeping by my mules, covered with their cloaks.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Nowhere is there better fare than at Montpellier. ‘Tis a veritable land of + Cocagne! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt that my husband will finally introduce you to me as his + wife.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think you would recognize her if you saw her again?” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! I should think so! But is she at Montpellier? If so, tell her + that the Chevalier de Seingalt is here.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you shall speak to her yourself, if you will do me the honour to + follow me.” + </p> + <p> + 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,— + </p> + <p> + “There she is.” + </p> + <p> + “What, mademoiselle! You here? I am delighted to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “This is not a young lady, sir, ‘tis my dear wife; but I hope that will + not hinder you from embracing her.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + We were very glad to see each other again, but the apothecary was + delighted at the great respect with which I treated his wife. + </p> + <p> + For a whole hour we carried on a conversation of a perfectly imaginary + character, and with all the simplicity of perfect truth. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Her husband hastened to say that that was quite out of the question. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I hope you won’t go,” she added, “you must do my husband the honour + of dining with us.” + </p> + <p> + After the husband had pressed me for some time I gave in, and accepted + their invitation to dinner for the day after next. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0009" id="linkF2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Stay at Aix; I Fall Ill—I am Cared for By an Unknown + Lady—The Marquis d’Argens—Cagliostro +</pre> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + This budding saint was decidedly plain. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Una crostata,” I replied, “but I really do not know the Italian for the + ‘beatilles’ with which it is stuffed.” + </p> + <p> + These ‘beatilles’ were balls of rice, veal, champignons, artichoke, foie + gras, etc. + </p> + <p> + The Jesuit declared that in calling them ‘beatilles’ I was making a mock + of the glories of hereafter. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I believe it will be Ganganelli,” I replied, “as he is the only monk in + the conclave.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should it be necessary to choose a monk?” + </p> + <p> + “Because none but a monk would dare to commit the excess which the + Spaniards will demand of the new pope.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean the suppression of the Jesuits.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “They will never obtain such a demand.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell us the reason.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “The Pope could never suppress the order,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “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’.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The “Iliad” had Porphyry’s comment; it was a copy of a rare edition, and + was richly bound. + </p> + <p> + As the marquis came to Aix to thank me, I had to pay another visit to the + country house. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + We set to work; and, far from resisting, the girl said she would be only + too glad to get rid of the troublesome burden. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Manucci had gone a little too far. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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, + sarcasm, 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think of making any stay?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You know, of course, that there are several of them in Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + At breakfast I asked the pilgrim what he did, and he replied that he was + an artist. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I congratulate you. If you are not a rich man, you are, at least, certain + of earning a living with this talent.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I accepted the present and promised to do as he desired, and succeeded in + making up a purse of two hundred francs for them. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Everybody laughed at this excuse except myself, and I pitied her, as I + could see that she was of very low origin. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + She laughed, and told me I was mistaken as it was only a copy. + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” + </p> + <p> + She called her husband, who came with the letter in his hand. + </p> + <p> + I could doubt no longer, and said to him,— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The next day the couple left Aix. In ten years I saw them again under the + name of Count and Countess Pellegrini. + </p> + <p> + At the present period he is in a prison which he will probably never + leave, and his wife is happy, maybe, in a convent. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0010" id="linkF2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Departure—Letter from Henriette—Marsellies—History of + Nina—Nice—Turin—Lugano—Madame De**** +</pre> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I could find no reply to this very weighty reason. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Then she is not here.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; she is at Aix.” + </p> + <p> + “Since when?” + </p> + <p> + “For the last six months.” + </p> + <p> + “Where does she live?” + </p> + <p> + “In her town house. She will be coming here in three weeks to spend the + summer as usual.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me write a letter?” + </p> + <p> + “If you will get down you will find all the necessary materials in madam’s + room.” + </p> + <p> + I went into the house, and to my extreme surprise found myself face to + face with my nurse. + </p> + <p> + “You live here, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Since when?” + </p> + <p> + “For the last ten years.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you come to nurse me?” + </p> + <p> + “If you will step upstairs I will tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Her story was as follows: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor said he didn’t know you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “She cannot see any company, for I have been everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “She does not see any company at her own house, but she goes everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, as I had the honour of informing you.” + </p> + <p> + “Has she changed? Has she had any sickness? Has she aged?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. She has become rather stout, but I assure you you would take + her for a woman of thirty.” + </p> + <p> + “I must be blind, or I cannot have seen her. I am going to write to her + now.” + </p> + <p> + The woman went out, leaving me in astonishment, at the extraordinary + situation in which I was placed. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What is your sister doing? Is she still at Barcelona?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I know something of her peculiarities; but she cannot dislike a man who + has made her rich.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I wonder how she came to treat me so generously.” + </p> + <p> + “If you knew all, you would not feel grateful to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me all, then.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But she cannot have been the instigator of, or even the accomplice in, + the plot for my assassination. That’s against nature.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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,— + </p> + <p> + “‘Valga me Dios! I will give you a pleasure you do not expect.’ + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I said that you might be killed. + </p> + <p> + “‘All the worse for the count,’ she replied, ‘for his turn will come + also.’ + </p> + <p> + “Then she began laughing like a madcap; she was thinking of the excitement + your death would cause in Barcelona. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “My man—I did not know that he was in correspondence with her.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I suppose not; but I assure you the worthy man was very much attached + to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure he was. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “‘If Casanova had had the courage to ask me to go with him, I would have + gone,’ said she. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Are you her mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; Nina, that horrible woman, is my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Really? Everybody says you are her sister.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the horrible part of it, everybody is right.” + </p> + <p> + “Explain yourself!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, though it is to my shame. She is my sister and my daughter, for she + is the daughter of my father.” + </p> + <p> + “What! your father loved you?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + I remained dumb at the conclusion of this dreadful story, which bore all + the marks of truth. + </p> + <p> + “Does Nina know that you are her mother?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How did the Conte de Ricla fall in love with her?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Danced badly, perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “She danced without any drawers at all, and did her rebaltade as before, + which caused such an effervescence of high spirits in the house as had + never been known at Barcelona. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “‘In the mean time,’ said he, ‘bring her before me.’ + </p> + <p> + “Presently Nina appeared in the viceroy’s box, and asked him, impudently, + what he wanted with her. + </p> + <p> + “‘You are an immodest woman, and have failed in your duty to the public.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What have I done?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You performed the same skip as before.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘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.’ + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “‘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!’ + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “She went back to her dressing-room and came to us, where she was living. + </p> + <p> + “The ballet went on without her, and the poor viceroy sat in a dream, for + the poison had entered into his veins. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “‘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.’ + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The next day, as I had expected, I received a letter from Henriette. It + ran as follows: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I left Marseilles by myself, and after crossing the Alps arrived at Turin. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I gave him the preface and the preliminary matter at once, and chose the + paper and the size, large octavo. + </p> + <p> + When I got back to my inn the landlord told me that the bargello, or chief + constable, wanted to see me. + </p> + <p> + Although Lugano is in Switzerland, its municipal government is modelled + after that of the Italian towns. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, signor,” I replied, “and I am sure that you are telling me + the truth, as I am in Switzerland.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And if they refuse to pay?” + </p> + <p> + “Then their safety is not so sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Money does everything in Lugano, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir—— ” + </p> + <p> + “I understand, but let me tell you that I have no fears, and I shall + consequently beg to be excused from paying anything.” + </p> + <p> + “You will forgive me, but I happen to know that you have some disputes + with the Venetian Government.” + </p> + <p> + “You are making a mistake, my good fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am not.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “He’s a very nice Swiss gentleman,” said he, “and his wife a clever woman, + and as fair as the day.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go and see him to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Our mutual surprise may be imagined! + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0011" id="linkF2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 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 +</pre> + <p> + These unforeseen, haphazard meetings with old friends have always been the + happiest moments of my life. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The work on which I was engaged demanded all my care and attention, and a + love affair would have wasted most of my time. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Although the count was a ruined man he lived in his isles like a prince. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + These gentlemen stayed at my inn, and I had my meals with them throughout + their stay. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t let him go!” I cried, “send for the bargello and have him away to + prison.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You will hear that at M. de R——‘s, where I shall await you.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What fate is that?” I asked, “I have seen a good deal of misfortune since + I left you.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean the presidio.” + </p> + <p> + “But that has never been my lot, thank God! Who told you such a story?” + </p> + <p> + “A Count Marazzani, who was here three weeks ago, and told me he had been + luckier than you, as he had made his escape.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s a liar and a scoundrel; and if ever I meet him again he shall pay me + dearly.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + In the mean time he was in prison, and I went to M. de R—— to + see what he could do for me. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + This ought to have been enough for me, but I continued obdurate. + </p> + <p> + M. de R—— said the fact of my being sent to the galleys having + been rumoured was no justification for his repeating it. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I shewed the letter to M. de R——, who let him out of prison + with orders to leave Lugano in twenty-four hours. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, it was the same tribunal that had facilitated my access to + the ambassador to Madrid—Mocenigo. + </p> + <p> + I told Berlendis that my visits should be limited in number, and free from + all ostentation. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + An Englishman named Acton commended me to an English banker at Leghorn, + but this letter did not empower me to draw any supplies. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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,— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The husband thought the bargain a good one, and signed an agreement to + that effect. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + This journey to Leghorn was undertaken under the influence of chimerical + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “He will be setting sail before long,” said he; “I have advices from + Leghorn to that effect.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “That’s just what I mean to find out before embarking my effects.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + An officer came out to tell me that the admiral was writing in bed, and + hoped I would wait. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + I had been waiting a few minutes, when Da Loglio, the Polish agent at + Venice and an old friend of mine, came in. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here, my dear Casanova?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I am waiting for an interview with the admiral.” + </p> + <p> + “He is very busy.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “After dinner, if you please,” I said. + </p> + <p> + He came in and sat down at two o’clock, and I was among the guests. + </p> + <p> + Orloff kept on saying, “Eat away, gentlemen, eat away;” and read his + correspondence and gave his secretary letters all the time. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Quite so; but kindly tell me, count, what is to be my status or + employment an board your ship?” + </p> + <p> + “At present I have no special employ to give you; that will come in time. + Come on board as my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, I really have no particular office to give you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that a prophecy?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s an oracle.” + </p> + <p> + “We will test its veracity, my dear Calchus.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Next day I delivered my letters to M. Rivarola and the English banker. The + squadron had sailed in the early morning. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 Corilla, 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + This is a long digression, and I will now return to Father Stratico, who + made the time pass so pleasantly for me. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Stratico should have condemned you to a month without mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “Why mercy? What hazard do I run?” + </p> + <p> + “Of being tired to death, or of leaving some small morsel of your heart at + Sienna.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible that you are amongst the despairing?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and to that fact I owe my happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a pity for you if you found yourself mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The amiable marchioness smiled pleasantly and gave no positive answer. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The abbe shewed me all the objects of interest in Sienna, and introduced + me to the literati, who in their turn visited me. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Full of admiration, I addressed myself to her alone, and all her plainness + vanished. + </p> + <p> + I had had an agreeable conversation with the marchioness in the morning, + but in the evening I was literally in an ecstacy. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t understand that,” I said, “‘sublata lucerna’, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said he, with a laugh, “I love her for her face, since it is + inseparable from my idea of her.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” I asked, in some astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “What!” said she to the abbe, “you did not tell him whose house it is?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not think it necessary, her father and mother rarely shew + themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s of no consequence.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is her father?” I asked, “the hangman, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I once knew a man named Coltellini,” I replied; “he is the son of the + bargello of Florence, and is poet-in-ordinary 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.” + </p> + <p> + The marchioness thought my idea an excellent one, but soon after I heard + that Coltellini was dead. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want anyone.” + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong, for she is very beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she by herself?” + </p> + <p> + “No, she is with a gentleman on horseback, who wishes to ride all the way + to Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how did the girl come here?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he will follow the carriage?” + </p> + <p> + “He can go as he likes; that can’t make much difference to either of us.” + </p> + <p> + “You say she is young and pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been told so, but I haven’t seen her myself.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a man is her companion?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s a fine man, but he can speak very little Italian.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he sold the lady’s horse?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it was hired. He has only one trunk, which will go behind the + carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “This is all very strange. I shall not give any decision before speaking + to this man.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell him to wait on you.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Your wife, sir?” + </p> + <p> + I saw he was a Frenchman, and I addressed him in French. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. I don’t want to start later than I had arranged. Will she be + ready at five o’clock?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0012" id="linkF2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Miss Betty—The Comte de L’Etoile—Sir B * * * M * * *— + Reassured +</pre> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you can speak French madam?” I began. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and a little Italian too.” + </p> + <p> + “I congratulate myself on having you for my travelling companion.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you should congratulate me.” + </p> + <p> + “I heard you came to Sienna on horseback.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I will never do such a foolish thing again.” + </p> + <p> + “I think your husband would have been wise to sell his horse and buy a + carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “He hired it; it does not belong to him. From Rome we are going to drive + to Naples.” + </p> + <p> + “You like travelling?” + </p> + <p> + “Very much, but with greater comfort.” + </p> + <p> + With these words the English girl, whose white skin did not look as if it + could contain a drop of blood, blushed most violently. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + We got there at ten o’clock. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I thought it all very strange, but I said nothing. The poor girl begged me + to excuse her husband’s behaviour. + </p> + <p> + “He has given me a mark of his confidence, madam, and there is nothing to + be offended at.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + When she was alone with me my young companion begged me only to order + dinner for myself. + </p> + <p> + I understood her delicacy, and this made her all the dearer to me. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + I left her without giving her time to answer, and went to order dinner. + </p> + <p> + I had ceased to believe the Frenchman to be the beautiful Englishwoman’s + husband, and began to think I should have to fight him. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Thus I fondled my growing passion. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I lay down on the bed, and as I built a thousand castles in the air I fell + asleep. + </p> + <p> + The landlady awoke me softly, saying that three o’clock had struck. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment before you bring in the dinner. I will go and see if the + lady is awake.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will sit down with you to dinner, as you wish it.” + </p> + <p> + “That makes me happy, and I will order dinner to be served forthwith.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Has Sophie grown tall?” + </p> + <p> + “No, she is quite small, but she is very pretty, and so clever.” + </p> + <p> + “She must now be seventeen.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. We are of the same age.” + </p> + <p> + As she said this she blushed and lowered her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ill?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. I scarcely like to say it, but Sophie is the very image of + you.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Eighteen months; she went back to her mother’s, to be married as it was + said, but I don’t know to whom.” + </p> + <p> + “Your news interests me deeply.” + </p> + <p> + The landlord brought me the bill, and I saw a note of three pains which + her husband had spent on himself and his horse. + </p> + <p> + “He said you would pay,” observed the landlord. + </p> + <p> + The Englishwoman blushed. I paid the bill, and we went on. + </p> + <p> + I was delighted to see her blushing, it proved she was not a party to her + husband’s proceedings. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + We had a three hours’ drive before us, so I turned the conversation to + Sophie, with whom she had been at school. + </p> + <p> + “Was Miss Nancy Steyne there when you left?” said I. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + My companion sighed at hearing the name of Nancy, and told me that she had + left. + </p> + <p> + “Was she pretty when you knew her?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “More unhappy? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! let us speak of something else.” + </p> + <p> + Her countenance was suffused with emotion. I pitied her in secret, and led + the conversation back to Nancy. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me why you think Nancy is unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right. I would willingly give my life if it could be the saving + of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you know her?” + </p> + <p> + “In my own house. She and Sophie dined with me, and her father came in at + the end of the meal.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am vastly obliged to you.” + </p> + <p> + With these words she became silent, and I left her to her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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,— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Laugh too,” said I to the lady, “laugh or I will never get up.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you that it’s laughable enough, but I have not the spirit to + laugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sit down at all events.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I was grieved to see my companion’s sadness. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + “You can tell me on your word of honour whether that extraordinary + character is your husband, or only your lover.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you the simple truth; he is not my husband, but we are going + to be married at Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Never, unless he deceives me.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you know all this?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He loves me; I am sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He is not jealous. You know Frenchmen are not.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I should defend myself.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You will convince me of that?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Would it not be better to go on now?” said the English girl; “it will be + very hot from ten till noon.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but the Comte de l’Ltoile, whom we should be sure to meet at + Radicofani, would not like to see me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? I am sure he would.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 + Anglican. 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. + </p> + <p> + I was sorry for what I had said, for I had put Betty, who was incapable of + a lie, to great pain. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The landlord, who was also the postmaster, asked if I would pay three + paoli which the Frenchman had expended for his horse and himself, assuring + the landlord that his friend would pay. + </p> + <p> + For Betty’s sake I said I would pay; but this was not all. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You mean to go as far as Centino, I suppose,” said the man. “We had + better wait there till the heat is over.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; we will go off.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I gave him a paolo, 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like us to go on to Acquapendente?” I asked her. + </p> + <p> + At this question her face beamed all over; she opened her arms, and I + embraced her. + </p> + <p> + I called the vetturino, and told him I wanted to go on to Acquapendente + immediately. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Very good. Get me two horses immediately.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s the slashed postillion?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “He is drinking to my health with his comrade; they have both begged my + pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Betty, “this gentleman gave him a crown.” + </p> + <p> + “What a pity! You shouldn’t have given them anything.” + </p> + <p> + Before supper the Comte de l’Etoile shewed 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 shewed me in an off-hand way a bill + of exchange on Rome for three thousand crowns. + </p> + <p> + I did not trouble to read it, and gave him the sequin, though I felt sure + I should never see it again. + </p> + <p> + Betty now treated me quite confidentially, and I felt I might ask her + almost any questions. + </p> + <p> + When we were at Montefiascone she said,— + </p> + <p> + “You see my lover is only without money by chance; he has a bill of + exchange for a large amount.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe it to be a forgery.” + </p> + <p> + “You are really too cruel.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It may be that he had not the time; he was in such a hurry to be gone. + Ah! if you knew all!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you persist in the idea that he does not love me.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, he loves you, but in such a fashion as to deserve hatred in return.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you not hate a man who loved you only to traffic in your charms?” + </p> + <p> + “I should be sorry for you to think that of him.” + </p> + <p> + “If you like, I will convince you of what I say this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “You will oblige me; but I must have some positive proof. It would be a + sore pain to me, but also a true service.” + </p> + <p> + “And when you are convinced, will you cease to love him?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; if you prove him to be dishonest, my love will vanish away.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “All this may be true; but do you give me your proofs, and leave to me the + care of shewing that I despise him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will prove my assertions this evening; but tell me how long you have + known him?” + </p> + <p> + “About a month; but we have only been together for five days.” + </p> + <p> + “And before that time you never accorded him any favours?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a single kiss. He was always under my windows, and I had reason to + believe that he loved me fondly.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can you suspect a man of whom you know nothing?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he did. He wrote me a letter, which I will shew you. He promises to + marry me at Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “And who is to answer for his constancy?” + </p> + <p> + “His love is my surety.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you fear pursuit?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he take you from a father, a lover, or a brother?” + </p> + <p> + “From a lover, who will not be back at Leghorn for a week or ten days.” + </p> + <p> + “Where has he gone?” + </p> + <p> + “To London on business; I was under the charge of a woman whom he + trusted.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s enough; I pity you, my poor Betty. Tell me if you love your + Englishman, and if he is worthy of your love.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he rich?” + </p> + <p> + “Not very; he is a business man, and is comfortably off.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he young?” + </p> + <p> + “No. He is a man of your age, and a thoroughly kind and honest person. He + was waiting for his consumptive wife to die to marry me.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor man! Have you presented him with a child?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I am sure God did not mean me for him, for the count has conquered me + completely.” + </p> + <p> + “Everyone whom love leads astray says the same thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you have heard everything, and I am glad I told you, for I am sure + you are my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I accept your promise, and in return I promise not to hide anything from + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me why you have no luggage.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then good-bye to your trunk!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you foresee nothing but misfortune!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “All that is in the small trunk; I shall have it taken into my room + tonight.” + </p> + <p> + We reached Viterbo at seven o’clock, and found the count very cheerful. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Betty listened to all this nonsense in silent astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are joking.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all; to bed with you, I shall love you all the more.” + </p> + <p> + “You must be crazy, I shall do nothing of the kind.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ready to go, my dear Betty?” + </p> + <p> + “I am much better, but I should so like a cup of tea.” + </p> + <p> + The Italians cannot make tea, so I took what she gave me, and went to + prepare it myself. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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,— + </p> + <p> + “For pity’s sake do not abandon a poor girl, more worthy of compassion + than blame!” + </p> + <p> + I promised her again to have all a father’s care for her, and soon after + we proceeded on our journey. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + We had to stay at Monterosi till four o’clock, and we were glad of it, for + we needed time for reflection. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you reckon on the Englishman forgiving you?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we will go back to Leghorn, and start immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “My only doubt is how to manage my reconciliation 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.” + </p> + <p> + “You must consider it on the way, and tell me any plans you may think of.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You must not be offended if I ask you whether you have ever given him + like cause for complaint before.” + </p> + <p> + “Never.” + </p> + <p> + “What is his history?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “This declaration, as you may imagine, paved the way for a full + agreement.” + </p> + <p> + “‘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.’ + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can you spare the time?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I shew my gratitude to you?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + I pitied Betty. She saw herself the dupe of a vile actor, and her + indignation and shame were great. + </p> + <p> + “We will read it all to-morrow,” said I; “to-day we have something else to + do.” + </p> + <p> + The poor girl seemed to breathe again. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “If you like,” said I, “I will have a bed made up for me in the next + room.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear friend, ought I not to love your society? What would have become + of me without you?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Reader, you must take the rest for granted. I was happy, and I had reason + to believe that Betty was happy also. + </p> + <p> + In the morning, we had just fallen asleep, when the vetturino knocked at + the door. + </p> + <p> + I dressed myself hastily to see him. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” I said, “it is absolutely necessary for me to recover my + pocket-book, and I hope to find it at Acquapendente.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “He might pursue us.” + </p> + <p> + “He dare not do so.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Before I began my letter to Sir B—— M——, Betty + again warned me to conceal nothing from him. + </p> + <p> + “Not even the reward you gave me?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! That is a little secret between ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + I thought of posting from Sienna, to ensure her being in a place of safety + before the arrival of her lover. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + After this business had been dispatched Betty brightened up amazingly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I congratulate you,” I replied, “on having cured yourself so quickly of a + passion that had deprived you of your reason.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right; he escaped my sword because he is destined for the rope.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him look to that himself, but I am sure he will never dare to shew + his face before you or me again.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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,— + </p> + <p> + “Ah! there you are.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + Sir B—— M—— was too mad with rage to pay any + attention to her, and kept on,— + </p> + <p> + “Let me go, traitors!” + </p> + <p> + As may be imagined, I did not pay much attention to this request so long + as the loaded pistol was in his hand. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Betty had the presence of mind to snatch the pistol from his hand, and I + then let him go, calmly observing, + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you are labouring under a delusion.” + </p> + <p> + Again Betty threw herself on her knees, begging him to calm himself, as I + was her preserver not her betrayer. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by ‘preserver’?” said B—— M——. + </p> + <p> + Betty gave him the letter, saying,— + </p> + <p> + “Read that.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0016" id="linkF2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <a name="linkepisode28" id="linkepisode28"></a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EPISODE 28 — RETURN TO ROME + </h2> + <a name="linkF2HCH0013" id="linkF2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Rome—The Actor’s Punishment—Lord Baltimore—Naples—Sara + Goudar—Departure of Betty—Agatha—Medina—Albergoni—Miss + Chudleigh—The Prince of Francavilla—The Swimmers +</pre> + <p> + As I fell over the Englishman I had struck my hand against a nail, and the + fourth finger of my left hand was bleeding as if a vein had been opened. + Betty helped me to tie a handkerchief around the wound, while Sir B—— + M—— read the letter with great attention. I was much pleased + with Betty’s action, it shewed she was confident, and sure of her lover’s + forgiveness. + </p> + <p> + I took up my coat and carpet-bag, and went into the next room to change my + linen, and dress for dinner. Any distress at the termination of my + intrigue with Betty was amply compensated for by my joy at the happy + ending of a troublesome affair which might have proved fatal for me. + </p> + <p> + I dressed myself, and then waited for half an hour, as I heard Betty and + Sir B—— M—— speaking in English calmly enough, and + I did not care to interrupt them. At last the Englishman knocked at my + door, and came in looking humble and mortified. He said he was sure I had + not only saved Betty, but had effectually cured her of her folly. + </p> + <p> + “You must forgive my conduct, sir,” said he, “for I could not guess that + the man I found with her was her saviour and not her betrayer. I thank + Heaven which inspired you with the idea of catching hold of me from + behind, as I should certainly have killed you the moment I set eyes on + you, and at this moment I should be the most wretched of men. You must + forgive me, sir, and become my friend.” + </p> + <p> + I embraced him cordially, telling him that if I had been in his place I + should have acted in a precisely similar manner. + </p> + <p> + We returned to the room, and found Betty leaning against the bed, and + weeping bitterly. + </p> + <p> + The blood continuing to flow from my wound, I sent for a surgeon who said + that a vein had been opened, and that a proper ligature was necessary. + </p> + <p> + Betty still wept, so I told Sir B—— M—— that in my + opinion she deserved his forgiveness. + </p> + <p> + “Forgiveness?” said he, “you may be sure I have already forgiven her, and + she well deserves it. Poor Betty repented directly you shewed her the path + she was treading, and the tears she is shedding now are tears of sorrow at + her mistake. I am sure she recognizes her folly, and will never be guilty + of such a slip again.” + </p> + <p> + Emotion is infectious. Betty wept, Sir B—— M—— + wept, and I wept to keep them company. At last nature called a truce, and + by degrees our sobs and tears ceased and we became calmer. + </p> + <p> + Sir B—— M——, who was evidently a man of the most + generous character, began to laugh and jest, and his caresses had great + effect in calming Betty. We made a good dinner, and the choice Muscat put + us all in the best of spirits. + </p> + <p> + Sir B—— M—— said we had better rest for a day or + two; he had journeyed fifteen stages in hot haste, and felt in need of + repose. + </p> + <p> + He told us that on arriving at Leghorn, and finding no Betty there, he had + discovered that her trunk had been booked to Rome, and that the officer to + whom it belonged had hired a horse, leaving a watch as a pledge for it. + Sir B—— M—— recognized Betty’s watch, and feeling + certain that she was either on horseback with her seducer or in the wagon + with her trunk, he immediately resolved to pursue. + </p> + <p> + “I provided myself,” he added, “with two good pistols, not with the idea + of using one against her, for my first thought about her was pity, and my + second forgiveness; but I determined to blow out the scoundrel’s brains, + and I mean to do it yet. We will start for Rome to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Sir B—— M——‘s concluding words filled Betty with + joy, and I believe she would have pierced her perfidious lover to the + heart if he had been brought before her at that moment. + </p> + <p> + “We shall find him at Roland’s,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Sir B—— M—— took Betty in his arms, and gazed at + me with an air of content, as if he would have shewn me the greatness of + an English heart—a greatness which more than atones for its + weakness. + </p> + <p> + “I understand your purpose,” I said, “but you shall not execute your plans + without me. Let me have the charge of seeing that justice is done you. If + you will not agree, I shall start for Rome directly, I shall get there + before you, and shall give the wretched actor warning of your approach. If + you had killed him before I should have said nothing, but at Rome it is + different, and you would have reason to repent of having indulged your + righteous indignation. You don’t know Rome and priestly justice. Come, + give me your hand and your word to do nothing without my consent, or else + I shall leave you directly.” + </p> + <p> + Sir B—— M—— was a man of my own height but + somewhat thinner, and five or six years older; the reader will understand + his character without my describing it. + </p> + <p> + My speech must have rather astonished him, but he knew that my disposition + was benevolent, and he could not help giving me his hand and his pledge. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dearest,” said Betty, “leave vengeance to the friend whom Heaven has + sent us.” + </p> + <p> + “I consent to do so, provided everything is done in concert between us.” + </p> + <p> + After this we parted, and Sir B—— M——, being in + need of rest, I went to tell the vetturino that we should start for Rome + again on the following day. + </p> + <p> + “For Rome! Then you have found your pocketbook? It seems to me, my good + sir, that you would have been wiser not to search for it.” + </p> + <p> + The worthy man, seeing my hand done up in lint, imagined I had fought a + duel, and indeed everybody else came to the same conclusion. + </p> + <p> + Sir B—— M—— had gone to bed, and I spent the rest + of the day in the company of Betty, who was overflowing with the + gratitude. She said we must forget what had passed between us, and be the + best of friends for the rest of our days, without a thought of any further + amorous relations. I had not much difficulty in assenting to this + condition. + </p> + <p> + She burned with the desire for vengeance on the scoundrelly actor who had + deceived her; but I pointed out that her duty was to moderate Sir B—— + M——‘s passions, as if he attempted any violence in Rome it + might prove a very serious matter for him, besides its being to the + disadvantage of his reputation to have the affair talked of. + </p> + <p> + “I promise you,” I added, “to have the rogue imprisoned as soon as we + reach Rome, and that ought to be sufficient vengeance for you. Instead of + the advantages he proposed for himself, he will receive only shame and all + the misery of a prison.” + </p> + <p> + Sir B—— M—— slept seven or eight hours, and rose + to find that a good deal of his rage had evaporated. He consented to abide + by my arrangements, if he could have the pleasure of paying the fellow a + visit, as he wanted to know him. + </p> + <p> + After this sensible decision and a good supper I went to my lonely couch + without any regret, for I was happy in the consciousness of having done a + good action. + </p> + <p> + We started at day-break the next morning, and when we reached + Acquapendente we resolved to post to Rome. By the post the journey took + twelve hours, otherwise we should have been three days on the road. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we reached Rome I went to the customhouse and put in the + document relating to Betty’s trunk. The next day it was duly brought to + our inn and handed over to Betty. + </p> + <p> + As Sir B—— M—— had placed the case in my hands I + went to the bargello, an important person at Rome, and an expeditious + officer when he sees a case clearly and feels sure that the plaintiffs do + not mind spending their money. The bargello is rich, and lives well; he + has an almost free access to the cardinal-vicar, the governor, and even + the Holy Father himself. + </p> + <p> + He gave me a private interview directly, and I told him the whole story, + finally saying that all we asked for was that the rogue should be + imprisoned and afterwards expelled from Rome. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” I added, “that our demand is a very moderate one, and we could + get all we want by the ordinary channels of the law; but we are in a + hurry, and I want you to take charge of the whole affair. If you care to + do so we shall be prepared to defray legal expenses to the extent of fifty + crowns.” + </p> + <p> + The bargello asked me to give him the bill of exchange and all the effects + of the adventurer, including the letters. + </p> + <p> + I had the bill in my pocket and gave it him on the spot, taking a receipt + in exchange. I told him to send to the inn for the rest. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I have made him confess the facts you allege against him,” + said the bargello, “we shall be able to do something. I have already heard + that he is at Roland’s, and has been trying to get the Englishwoman’s + trunk. If you liked to spend a hundred crowns instead of fifty we could + send him to the galleys for a couple of years.” + </p> + <p> + “We will see about that,” said I, “for the present we will have him into + prison.” + </p> + <p> + He was delighted to hear that the horse was not l’Etoile’s property, and + said that if I liked to call at nine o’clock he would have further news + for me. + </p> + <p> + I said I would come. I really had a good deal to do at Rome. I wanted to + see Cardinal Bernis in the first place, but I postponed everything to the + affair of the moment. + </p> + <p> + I went back to the inn and was told by a valet de place, whom Sir B—— + M—— had hired, that the Englishman had gone to bed. + </p> + <p> + We were in need of a carriage, so I summoned the landlord and was + astonished to find myself confronted by Roland in person. + </p> + <p> + “How’s this?” I said. “I thought you were still at the Place d’Espagne.” + </p> + <p> + “I have given my old house to my daughter who has married a prosperous + Frenchman, while I have taken this palace where there are some magnificent + rooms.” + </p> + <p> + “Has your daughter many foreigners staying at her house now?” + </p> + <p> + “Only one Frenchman, the Comte de l’Etoile, who is waiting for his + equipage to come on. He has an excellent horse, and I am thinking of + buying it from him.” + </p> + <p> + “I advise you to wait till to-morrow, and to say nothing about the advice + I have given you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I wait?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t say any more just now.” + </p> + <p> + This Roland was the father of the Therese whom I had loved nine years + before, and whom my brother Jean had married in 1762, a year after my + departure. Roland told me that my brother was in Rome with Prince + Beloselski, the Russian ambassador to the Court of Saxony. + </p> + <p> + “I understood that my brother could not come to Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “He came with a safe-conduct which the Dowager Electress of Saxony + obtained for him from the Holy Father. He wants his case to be re-tried, + and there he makes a mistake, for if it were heard a hundred times the + sentence would continue the same. No one will see him, everyone avoids + him, even Mengs will have nothing to say to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Mengs is here, is he? I though he had been at Madrid.” + </p> + <p> + “He has got leave of absence for a year, but his family remains in Spain.” + </p> + <p> + After hearing all this news which was far from pleasant to me, as I did + not wish to see Mengs or my brother, I went to bed, leaving orders that I + was to be roused in time for dinner. + </p> + <p> + In an hour’s time I was awakened by the tidings that some one was waiting + to give me a note. It was one of the bargello’s men, who had come to take + over l’Etoile’s effects. + </p> + <p> + At dinner I told Sir B—— M—— what I had done, and + we agreed that he should accompany me to the bargello’s in the evening. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon we visited some of the principal palaces, and after + taking Betty back to the inn we went to the bargello, who told us our man + was already in prison, and that it would cost very little to send him to + the galleys. + </p> + <p> + “Before making up my mind I should like to speak to him,” said Sir B—— + M——. + </p> + <p> + “You can do so to-morrow. He confessed everything without any trouble, and + made a jest of it, saying he was not afraid of any consequences, as the + young lady had gone with him of her own free will. I shewed him the bill + of exchange, but he evinced no emotion whatever. He told me that he was an + actor by profession, but also a man of rank. As to the horse, he said he + was at perfect liberty to sell it, as the watch he had left in pledge was + worth more than the beast.” + </p> + <p> + I had forgotten to inform the bargello that the watch aforesaid belonged + to Betty. + </p> + <p> + We gave the worthy official fifty crowns, and supped with Betty, who had, + as I have remarked, recovered her trunk, and had been busying herself in + putting her things to rights. + </p> + <p> + She was glad to hear that the rascal was in prison, but she did not seem + to wish to pay him a visit. + </p> + <p> + We went to see him in the afternoon of the next day. + </p> + <p> + The bargello had assigned us an advocate, who made out a document + demanding payment by the prisoner of the expenses of the journey, and of + his arrest, together with a certain sum as compensation to the person whom + he had deceived, unless he could prove his right to the title of count in + the course of six weeks. + </p> + <p> + We found l’Etoile with this document in his hand; someone was translating + it for him into French. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the rascal saw me, he said, with a laugh, that I owed him + twenty-five Louis as he had left Betty to sleep with me. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman told him he lied; it was he that had slept with her. + </p> + <p> + “Are you Betty’s lover?” asked l’Etoile. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and if I had caught you with her I should have blown out your + brains, for you have deceived her doubly; you’re only a beggarly actor.” + </p> + <p> + “I have three thousand crowns.” + </p> + <p> + “I will pay six thousand if the bill proves to be a good one. In the + meanwhile you will stay here, and if it be false, as I expect it is, you + will go to the galleys.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall speak to my counsel.” + </p> + <p> + We went out and called on the advocate, for Sir B—— M—— + had a lively desire to send the impudent rascal to the galleys. However, + it could not be done, for l’Etoile said he was quite ready to give up the + bill, but that he expected Sir B—— M—— to pay a + crown a day for his keep while he remained in prison. + </p> + <p> + Sir B—— M—— thought he would like to see something + of Rome, as he was there, and was obliged to buy almost everything as he + had left his belongings behind him, while Betty was well provided for as + her trunk was of immense capacity. I went with them everywhere; it was not + exactly the life I liked, but there would be time for me to please myself + after they had gone. I loved Betty without desiring her, and I had taken a + liking to the Englishman who had an excellent heart. At first he wanted to + stay a fortnight at Rome, and then to return to Leghorn; but his friend + Lord Baltimore, who had come to Rome in the meanwhile, persuaded him to + pay a short visit to Naples. + </p> + <p> + This nobleman, who had with him a very pretty Frenchwoman and two + servants, said he would see to the journey, and that I must join the + party. I had made his acquaintance at London. + </p> + <p> + I was glad to have the opportunity of seeing Naples again. We lodged at + the “Crocielles” at Chiaggia, or Chiaja, as the Neapolitans call it. + </p> + <p> + The first news I heard was the death of the Duke of Matalone and the + marriage of his widow with Prince Caramanica. + </p> + <p> + This circumstance put an end to some of my hopes, and I only thought of + amusing myself with my friends, as if I had never been at Naples before. + Lord Baltimore had been there several times, but his mistress, Betty, and + Sir B—— M——, were strangers, and wanted to see + everything. I accordingly acted as cicerone, for which part I and my lord, + too, were much better qualified than the tedious and ignorant fellows who + had an official right to that title. + </p> + <p> + The day after our arrival I was unpleasantly surprised to see the + notorious Chevalier Goudar, whom I had known at London. He called on Lord + Baltimore. + </p> + <p> + This famous rout had a house at Pausilippo, and his wife was none other + than the pretty Irish girl Sara, formerly a drawer in a London tavern. The + reader has been already introduced to her. Goudar knew I had met her, so + he told me who she was, inviting us all to dine with him the next day. + </p> + <p> + Sara shewed no surprise nor confusion at the sight of me, but I was + petrified. She was dressed with the utmost elegance, received company + admirably, spoke Italian with perfect correctness, talked sensibly, and + was exquisitely beautiful; I was stupefied; the metamorphosis was so + great. + </p> + <p> + In a quarter of an hour five or six ladies of the highest rank arrived, + with ten or twelve dukes, princes, and marquises, to say nothing of a host + of distinguished strangers. + </p> + <p> + The table was laid for thirty, but before dinner Madame Goudar seated + herself at the piano, and sang a few airs with the voice of a siren, and + with a confidence that did not astonish the other guests as they knew her, + but which astonished me extremely, for her singing was really admirable. + </p> + <p> + Goudar had worked this miracle. He had been educating her to be his wife + for six or seven years. + </p> + <p> + After marrying her he had taken her to Paris, Vienna, Venice, Florence, + Rome, etc., everywhere seeking fortune, but in vain. Finally he had come + to Naples, where he had brought his wife into the fashion of obliging her + to renounce in public the errors of the Anglican heresy. She had been + received into the Catholic Church under the auspices of the Queen of + Naples. The amusing part in all this was that Sara, being an Irishwoman, + had been born a Catholic, and had never ceased to be one. + </p> + <p> + All the nobility, even to the Court, went to see Sara, while she went + nowhere, for no one invited her. This kind of thing is a characteristic of + nobility all the world over. + </p> + <p> + Goudar told me all these particulars, and confessed that he only made his + living by gaming. Faro and biribi were the only pillars of his house; but + they must have been strong ones, for he lived in great style. + </p> + <p> + He asked me to join with him, and I did not care to refuse; my purse was + fast approaching total depletion, and if it were not for this resource I + could not continue living in the style to which I had been accustomed. + </p> + <p> + Having taken this resolution I declined returning to Rome with Betty and + Sir B—— M——, who wanted to repay me all I had + spent on her account. I was not in a position to be ostentatious, so I + accepted his generous offer. + </p> + <p> + Two months later I heard that l’Etoile had been liberated by the influence + of Cardinal Bernis, and had left Rome. Next year I heard at Florence that + Sir B—— M—— had returned to England, where no + doubt he married Betty as soon as he became a widower. + </p> + <p> + As for the famous Lord Baltimore he left Naples a few days after my + friends, and travelled about Italy in his usual way. Three years later he + paid for his British bravado with his life. He committed the wild + imprudence of traversing the Maremma in August, and was killed by the + poisonous exhalations. + </p> + <p> + I stopped at “Crocielles,” as all the rich foreigners came to live there. + I was thus enabled to make their acquaintance, and put them in the way of + losing their money at Goudar’s. I did not like my task, but circumstances + were too strong for me. + </p> + <p> + Five or six days after Betty had left I chanced to meet the Abby Gama, who + had aged a good deal, but was still as gay and active as ever. After we + had told each other our adventures he informed me that, as all the + differences between the Holy See and the Court of Naples had been + adjusted, he was going back to Rome. + </p> + <p> + Before he went, however, he said he should like to present me to a lady + whom he was sure I should be very glad to see again. + </p> + <p> + The first persons I thought of were Donna Leonilda, or Donna Lucrezia, her + mother; but what was my surprise to see Agatha, the dancer with whom I had + been in love at Turin after abandoning the Corticelli. + </p> + <p> + Our delight was mutual, and we proceeded to tell each other the incidents + of our lives since we had parted. + </p> + <p> + My tale only lasted a quarter of an hour, but Agatha’s history was a long + one. + </p> + <p> + She had only danced a year at Naples. An advocate had fallen in love with + her, and she shewed me four pretty children she had given him. The husband + came in at supper-time, and as she had often talked to him about me he + rushed to embrace me as soon as he heard my name. He was an intelligent + man, like most of the pagletti of Naples. We supped together like old + friends, and the Abbe Gama going soon after supper I stayed with them till + midnight, promising to join them at dinner the next day. + </p> + <p> + Although Agatha was in the very flower of her beauty, the old fires were + not rekindled in me. I was ten years older. My coolness pleased me, for I + should not have liked to trouble the peace of a happy home. + </p> + <p> + After leaving Agatha I proceeded to Goudar’s, in whose bank I took a + strong interest. I found a dozen gamesters round the table, but what was + my surprise to recognize in the holder of the bank Count Medini. + </p> + <p> + Three or four days before this Medini had been expelled from the house of + M. de Choiseul, the French ambassador; he had been caught cheating at + cards. I had also my reason to be incensed against him; and, as the reader + may remember, we had fought a duel. + </p> + <p> + On glancing at the bank I saw that it was at the last gasp. It ought to + have held six hundred ounces, and there were scarcely a hundred. I was + interested to the extent of a third. + </p> + <p> + On examining the face of the punter who had made these ravages I guessed + the game. It was the first time I had seen the rascal at Goudar’s. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the deal Goudar told me that this punter was a rich + Frenchman who had been introduced by Medini. He told me I should not mind + his winning that evening, as he would be sure to lose it all and a good + deal more another time. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care who the punter is,” said I, “it is not of the slightest + consequence to me, as I tell you plainly that as long as Medini is the + banker I will have nothing to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + “I have told Medini about it and wanted to take a third away from the + bank, but he seemed offended and said he would make up any loss to you, + but that he could not have the bank touched.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, but if he does not bring me my money by to-morrow morning + there will be trouble. Indeed, the responsibility lies with you, for I + have told you that as long as Medini deals I will have nothing to do with + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you have a claim on me for two hundred ounces, but I hope you + will be reasonable; it would be rather hard for me to lose two-thirds.” + </p> + <p> + Knowing Goudar to be a greater rascal than Medini, I did not believe a + word he said; and I waited impatiently for the end of the game. + </p> + <p> + At one o’clock it was all over. The lucky punter went off with his pockets + full of gold, and Medini, affecting high spirits, which were very much out + of place, swore his victory should cost him dear. + </p> + <p> + “Will you kindly give me my two hundred ounces,” said I, “for, of course, + Goudar told you that I was out of it?” + </p> + <p> + “I confess myself indebted to you for that amount, as you absolutely + insist, but pray tell me why you refuse to be interested in the bank when + I am dealing.” + </p> + <p> + “Because I have no confidence in your luck.” + </p> + <p> + “You must see that your words are capable of a very unpleasant + interpretation.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t prevent your interpreting my words as you please, but I have a + right to my own opinion. I want my two hundred ounces, and I am quite + willing to leave you any moneys you propose to make out of the conqueror + of to-night. You must make your arrangements with M. Goudar, and by noon + to-morrow, you, M. Goudar, will bring me that sum.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t remit you the money till the count gives it me, for I haven’t got + any money.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you will have some money by twelve o’clock to-morrow morning. + Goodnight.” + </p> + <p> + I would not listen to any of their swindling arguments, and went home + without the slightest doubt that they were trying to cheat me. I resolved + to wash my hands of the whole gang as soon as I had got my money back by + fair means or foul. + </p> + <p> + At nine the next morning I received a note from Medini, begging me to call + on him and settle the matter. I replied that he must make his arrangements + with Goudar, and I begged to be excused calling on him. + </p> + <p> + In the course of an hour he paid me a visit, and exerted all his eloquence + to persuade me to take a bill for two hundred ounces, payable in a week. I + gave him a sharp refusal, saying that my business was with Goudar and + Goudar only, and that unless I received the money by noon I should proceed + to extremities. Medini raised his voice, and told me that my language was + offensive; and forthwith I took up a pistol and placed it against his + cheek, ordering him to leave the room. He turned pale, and went away + without a word. + </p> + <p> + At noon I went to Goudar’s without my sword, but with two good pistols in + my pocket. Medini was there, and began by reproaching me with attempting + to assassinate him in my own house. + </p> + <p> + I took no notice of this, but told Goudar to give me my two hundred + ounces. + </p> + <p> + Goudar asked Medini to give him the money. + </p> + <p> + There would undoubtedly have been a quarrel, if I had not been prudent + enough to leave the room, threatening Goudar with ruin if he did not send + on the money directly. + </p> + <p> + Just as I was leaving the house, the fair Sara put her head out of the + window, and begged me to come up by the back stairs and speak to her. + </p> + <p> + I begged to be excused, so she said she would come down, and in a moment + she stood beside me. + </p> + <p> + “You are in the right about your money,” she said, “but just at present my + husband has not got any; you really must wait two or three days, I will + guarantee the payment.” + </p> + <p> + “I am really sorry,” I replied, “not to be able to oblige such a charming + woman, but the only thing that will pacify me is my money, and till I have + had it, you will see me no more in your house, against which I declare + war.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon she drew from her finger a diamond ring, worth at least four + hundred ounces, and begged me to accept it as a pledge. + </p> + <p> + I took it, and left her after making my bow. She was doubtless astonished + at my behaviour, for in her state of deshabille she could not have counted + on my displaying such firmness. + </p> + <p> + I was very well satisfied with my victory, and went to dine with the + advocate, Agatha’s husband. I told him the story, begging him to find + someone who would give me two hundred ounces on the ring. + </p> + <p> + “I will do it myself,” said he; and he gave me an acknowledgment and two + hundred ounces on the spot. He then wrote in my name a letter to Goudar, + informing him that he was the depositary of the ring. + </p> + <p> + This done, I recovered my good temper. + </p> + <p> + Before dinner Agatha took me into her boudoir and shewed me all the + splendid jewels I had given her when I was rich and in love. + </p> + <p> + “Now I am a rich woman,” said she, “and my good fortune is all your + making; so take back what you gave me. Don’t be offended; I am so grateful + to you, and my good husband and I agreed on this plan this morning.” + </p> + <p> + To take away any scruples I might have, she shewed me the diamonds her + husband had given her; they had belonged to his first wife and were worth + a considerable sum. + </p> + <p> + My gratitude was too great for words, I could only press her hand, and let + my eyes speak the feelings of my heart. Just then her husband came in. + </p> + <p> + It had evidently been concerted between them, for the worthy man embraced + me, and begged me to accede to his wife’s request. + </p> + <p> + We then joined the company which consisted of a dozen or so of their + friends, but the only person who attracted my attention was a very young + man, whom I set down at once as in love with Agatha. His name was Don + Pascal Latilla; and I could well believe that he would be successful in + love, for he was intelligent, handsome, and well-mannered. We became + friends in the course of the meal. + </p> + <p> + Amongst the ladies I was greatly pleased with one young girl. She was only + fourteen, but she looked eighteen. Agatha told me she was studying + singing, intending to go on the stage as she was so poor. + </p> + <p> + “So pretty, and yet poor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for she will have all or nothing; and lovers of that kind are rare + in Naples.” + </p> + <p> + “But she must have some lover?” + </p> + <p> + “If she has, no one has heard of him. You had better make her acquaintance + and go and see her. You will soon be friends.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s her name?” + </p> + <p> + “Callimena. The lady who is speaking to her is her aunt, and I expect they + are talking about you.” + </p> + <p> + We sat down to the enjoyment of a delicate and abundant meal. Agatha, I + could see, was happy, and delighted to shew me how happy she was. The old + Abbe Gama congratulated himself on having presented me. Don Pascal Latilla + could not be jealous of the attentions paid me by his idol, for I was a + stranger, and they were my due; while her husband prided himself on his + freedom from those vulgar prejudices to which so many Neapolitans are + subject. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of all this gaiety I could not help stealing many a furtive + glance towards Callimena. I addressed her again and again, and she + answered me politely but so briefly as to give me no opportunity of + displaying my powers in the way of persiflage. + </p> + <p> + I asked if her name was her family name or a pseudonym. + </p> + <p> + “It is my baptismal name.” + </p> + <p> + “It is Greek; but, of course, you know what it means?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Mad beauty, or fair moon.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to say that I have nothing in common with my name.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any brothers or sisters?” + </p> + <p> + “I have only one married sister, with whom you may possibly be + acquainted.” + </p> + <p> + “What is her name, and who is her husband?” + </p> + <p> + “Her husband is a Piedmontese, but she does not live with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she the Madame Slopis who travels with Aston?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “I can give you good news of her.” + </p> + <p> + After dinner I asked Agatha how she came to know Callimena. + </p> + <p> + “My husband is her godfather.” + </p> + <p> + “What is her exact age?” + </p> + <p> + “Fourteen.” + </p> + <p> + “She’s a simple prodigy! What loveliness!” + </p> + <p> + “Her sister is still handsomer.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never seen her.” + </p> + <p> + A servant came in and said M. Goudar would like to have a little private + conversation with the advocate. + </p> + <p> + The advocate came back in a quarter of an hour, and informed me that + Goudar had given him the two hundred ounces, and that he had returned him + the ring. + </p> + <p> + “Then that’s all settled, and I am very glad of it. I have certainly made + an eternal enemy of him, but that doesn’t trouble me much.” + </p> + <p> + We began playing, and Agatha made me play with Callimena, the freshness + and simplicity of whose character delighted me. + </p> + <p> + I told her all I knew about her sister, and promised I would write to + Turin to enquire whether she were still there. I told her that I loved + her, and that if she would allow me, I would come and see her. Her reply + was extremely satisfactory. + </p> + <p> + The next morning I went to wish her good day. She was taking a music + lesson from her master. Her talents were really of a moderate order, but + love made me pronounce her performance to be exquisite. + </p> + <p> + When the master had gone, I remained alone with her. The poor girl + overwhelmed me with apologies for her dress, her wretched furniture, and + for her inability to give me a proper breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “All that make you more desirable in my eyes, and I am only sorry that I + cannot offer you a fortune.” + </p> + <p> + As I praised her beauty, she allowed me to kiss her ardently, but she + stopped my further progress by giving me a kiss as if to satisfy me. + </p> + <p> + I made an effort to restrain my ardour, and told her to tell me truly + whether she had a lover. + </p> + <p> + “Not one.” + </p> + <p> + “And have you never had one?” + </p> + <p> + “Never.” + </p> + <p> + “Not even a fancy for anyone?” + </p> + <p> + “No, never.” + </p> + <p> + “What, with your beauty and sensibility, is there no man in Naples who has + succeeded in inspiring you with desire?” + </p> + <p> + “No one has ever tried to do so. No one has spoken to me as you have, and + that is the plain truth.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you, and I see that I must make haste to leave Naples, if I + would not be the most unhappy of men.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I should love you without the hope of possessing you, and thus I should + be most unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “Love me then, and stay. Try and make me love you. Only you must moderate + your ecstacies, for I cannot love a man who cannot exercise + self-restraint.” + </p> + <p> + “As just now, for instance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. If you calm yourself I shall think you do so for my sake, and thus + love will tread close on the heels of gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + This was as much as to tell me that though she did not love me yet I had + only to wait patiently, and I resolved to follow her advice. I had reached + an age which knows nothing of the impatient desires of youth. + </p> + <p> + I gave her a tender embrace, and as I was getting up to go I asked her if + she were in need of money. + </p> + <p> + This question male her blush, and she said I had better ask her aunt, who + was in the next room. + </p> + <p> + I went in, and was somewhat astonished to find the aunt seated between two + worthy Capuchins, who were talking small talk to her while she worked at + her needle. At a little distance three young girls sat sewing. + </p> + <p> + The aunt would have risen to welcome me, but I prevented her, asked her + how she did, and smilingly congratulated her on her company. She smiled + back, but the Capuchins sat as firm as two stocks, without honouring me + with as much as a glance. + </p> + <p> + I took a chair and sat down beside her. + </p> + <p> + She was near her fiftieth year, though some might have doubted whether she + would ever see it again; her manner was good and honest, and her features + bore the traces of the beauty that time had ruined. + </p> + <p> + Although I am not a prejudiced man, the presence of the two evil-smelling + monks annoyed me extremely. I thought the obstinate way in which they + stayed little less than an insult. True they were men like myself, in + spite of their goats’ beards and dirty frocks, and consequently were + liable to the same desires as I; but for all that I found them wholly + intolerable. I could not shame them without shaming the lady, and they + knew it; monks are adepts at such calculations. + </p> + <p> + I have travelled all over Europe, but France is the only country in which + I saw a decent and respectable clergy. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a quarter of an hour I could contain myself no longer, and + told the aunt that I wished to say something to her in private. I thought + the two satyrs would have taken the hint, but I counted without my host. + The aunt arose, however, and took me into the next room. + </p> + <p> + I asked my question as delicately as possible, and she replied,— + </p> + <p> + “Alas! I have only too great a need of twenty ducats (about eighty francs) + to pay my rent.” + </p> + <p> + I gave her the money on the spot, and I saw that she was very grateful, + but I left her before she could express her feelings. + </p> + <p> + Here I must tell my readers (if I ever have any) of an event which took + place on that same day. + </p> + <p> + As I was dining in my room by myself, I was told that a Venetian gentleman + who said he knew me wished to speak to me. + </p> + <p> + I ordered him to be shewn in, and though his face was not wholly unknown + to me I could not recollect who he was. + </p> + <p> + He was tall, thin and wretched, misery and hunger shewing plainly in his + every feature; his beard was long, his head shaven, his robe a dingy + brown, and bound about him with a coarse cord, whence hung a rosary and a + dirty handkerchief. In the left hand he bore a basket, and in the right a + long stick; his form is still before me, but I think of him not as a + humble penitent, but as a being in the last state of desperation; almost + an assassin. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” I said at length. “I think I have seen you before, and yet + . . .” + </p> + <p> + “I will soon tell you my name and the story of my woes; but first give me + something to eat, for I am dying of hunger. I have had nothing but bad + soup for the last few days.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; go downstairs and have your dinner, and then come back to me; + you can’t eat and speak at the same time.” + </p> + <p> + My man went down to give him his meal, and I gave instructions that I was + not to be left alone with him as he terrified me. + </p> + <p> + I felt sure that I ought to know him, and longed to hear his story. + </p> + <p> + In three quarters of an hour he came up again, looking like some one in a + high fever. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” said I, “and speak freely.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Albergoni.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” + </p> + <p> + Albergoni was a gentleman of Padua, and one of my most intimate friends + twenty-five years before. He was provided with a small fortune, but an + abundance of wit, and had a great leaning towards pleasure and the + exercise of satire. He laughed at the police and the cheated husbands, + indulged in Venus and Bacchus to excess, sacrificed to the god of + pederasty, and gamed incessantly. He was now hideously ugly, but when I + knew him first he was a very Antinous. + </p> + <p> + He told me the following story: + </p> + <p> + “A club of young rakes, of whom I was one, had a casino at the Zuecca; we + passed many a pleasant hour there without hurting anyone. Some one + imagined that these meetings were the scenes of unlawful pleasures, the + engines of the law were secretly directed against us, and the casino was + shut up, and we were ordered to be arrested. All escaped except myself and + a man named Branzandi. We had to wait for our unjust sentence for two + years, but at last it appeared. My wretched fellow was condemned to lose + his head, and afterwards to be burnt, while I was sentenced to ten years’ + imprisonment ‘in carcere duro’. In 1765 I was set free, and went to Padua + hoping to live in peace, but my persecutors gave me no rest, and I was + accused of the same crime. I would not wait for the storm to burst, so I + fled to Rome, and two years afterwards the Council of Ten condemned me to + perpetual banishment. + </p> + <p> + “I might bear this if I had the wherewithal to live, but a brother-in-law + of mine has possessed himself of all I have, and the unjust Tribunal winks + at his misdeeds. + </p> + <p> + “A Roman attorney made me an offer of an annuity of two paoli a day on the + condition that I should renounce all claims on my estate. I refused this + iniquitous condition, and left Rome to come here and turn hermit. I have + followed this sorry trade for two years, and can bear it no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Go back to Rome; you can live on two pawls a day.” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather die.” + </p> + <p> + I pitied him sincerely, and said that though I was not a rich man he was + welcome to dine every day at my expense while I remained in Naples, and I + gave him a sequin. + </p> + <p> + Two or three days later my man told me that the poor wretch had committed + suicide. + </p> + <p> + In his room were found five numbers, which he bequeathed to Medini and + myself out of gratitude for our kindness to him. These five numbers were + very profitable to the Lottery of Naples, for everyone, myself excepted, + rushed to get them. Not a single one proved a winning number, but the + popular belief that numbers given by a man before he commits suicide are + infallible is too deeply rooted among the Neapolitans to be destroyed by + such a misadventure. + </p> + <p> + I went to see the wretched man’s body, and then entered a cafe. Someone + was talking of the case, and maintaining that death by strangulation must + be most luxurious as the victim always expires with a strong erection. It + might be so, but the erection might also be the result of an agony of + pain, and before anyone can speak dogmatically on the point he must first + have had a practical experience. + </p> + <p> + As I was leaving the cafe I had the good luck to catch a handkerchief + thief in the act; it was about the twentieth I had stolen from me in the + month I had spent at Naples. Such petty thieves abound there, and their + skill is something amazing. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he felt himself caught, he begged me not to make any noise, + swearing he would return all the handkerchiefs he had stolen from me, + which, as he confessed, amounted to seven or eight. + </p> + <p> + “You have stolen more than twenty from me.” + </p> + <p> + “Not I, but some of my mates. If you come with me, perhaps we shall be + able to get them all back.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it far off?” + </p> + <p> + “In the Largo del Castello. Let me go; people are looking at us.” + </p> + <p> + The little rascal took me to an evil-looking tavern, and shewed me into a + room, where a man asked me if I wanted to buy any old things. As soon as + he heard I had come for my handkerchiefs, he opened a big cupboard full of + handkerchiefs, amongst which I found a dozen of mine, and bought them back + for a trifle. + </p> + <p> + A few days after I bought several others, though I knew they were stolen. + </p> + <p> + The worthy Neapolitan dealer seemed to think me trustworthy, and three or + four days before I left Naples he told me that he could sell me, for ten + or twelve thousand ducats, commodities which would fetch four times that + amount at Rome or elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + “What kind of commodities are they?” + </p> + <p> + “Watches, snuff-boxes, rings, and jewels, which I dare not sell here.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t you afraid of being discovered?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much, I don’t tell everyone of my business.” + </p> + <p> + I thanked him, but I would not look at his trinkets, as I was afraid the + temptation of making such a profit would be too great. + </p> + <p> + When I got back to my inn I found some guests had arrived, of whom a few + were known to me. Bartoldi had arrived from Dresden with two young Saxons, + whose tutor he was. These young noblemen were rich and handsome, and + looked fond of pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Bartoldi was an old friend of mine. He had played Harlequin at the King of + Poland’s Italian Theatre. On the death of the monarch he had been placed + at the head of the opera-buffa by the dowager electress, who was + passionately fond of music. + </p> + <p> + Amongst the other strangers were Miss Chudleigh, now Duchess of Kingston, + with a nobleman and a knight whose names I have forgotten. + </p> + <p> + The duchess recognized me at once, and seemed pleased that I paid my court + to her. An hour afterwards Mr. Hamilton came to see her, and I was + delighted to make his acquaintance. We all dined together. Mr. Hamilton + was a genius, and yet he ended by marrying a mere girl, who was clever + enough to make him in love with her. Such a misfortune often comes to + clever men in their old age. Marriage is always a folly; but when a man + marries a young woman at a time of life when his physical strength is + running low, he is bound to pay dearly for his folly; and if his wife is + amorous of him she will kill him even years ago I had a narrow escape + myself from the same fate. + </p> + <p> + After dinner I presented the two Saxons to the duchess; they gave her news + of the dowager electress, of whom she was very fond. We then went to the + play together. As chance would have it, Madame Goudar occupied the box + next to ours, and Hamilton amused the duchess by telling the story of the + handsome Irishwoman, but her grace did not seem desirous of making Sara’s + acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + After supper the duchess arranged a game of quinze with the two Englishmen + and the two Saxons. The stakes were small, and the Saxons proved + victorious. I had not taken any part in the game, but I resolved to do so + the next evening. + </p> + <p> + The following day we dined magnificently with the Prince of Francavilla, + and in the afternoon he took us to the bath by the seashore, where we saw + a wonderful sight. A priest stripped himself naked, leapt into the water, + and without making the slightest movement floated on the surface like a + piece of deal. There was no trick in it, and the marvel must be assigned + to some special quality in his organs of breathing. After this the prince + amused the duchess still more pleasantly. He made all his pages, lads of + fifteen to seventeen, go into the water, and their various evolutions + afforded us great pleasure. They were all the sweethearts of the prince, + who preferred Ganymede to Hebe. + </p> + <p> + The Englishmen asked him if if he would give us the same spectacle, only + substituting nymphs for the ‘amoyini’, and he promised to do so the next + day at his splendid house near Portici, where there was a marble basin in + the midst of the garden. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0014" id="linkF2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Amours with Gallimena—Journey to Sorrento—Medini— + Goudar—Miss Chudleigh—The Marquis Petina—Gaetano—Madame + Cornelis’s Son—An Anecdote of Sara Goudar—The Florentines + Mocked by the King—My Journey to Salerno, Return to Naples, + and Arrival at Rome +</pre> + <p> + The Prince of Francavilla was a rich Epicurean, whose motto was ‘Fovet et + favet’. + </p> + <p> + He was in favour in Spain, but the king allowed him to live at Naples, as + he was afraid of his initiating the Prince of Asturias, his brothers, and + perhaps the whole Court, into his peculiar vices. + </p> + <p> + The next day he kept his promise, and we had the pleasure of seeing the + marble basin filled with ten or twelve beautiful girls who swam about in + the water. + </p> + <p> + Miss Chudleigh and the two other ladies pronounced this spectacle tedious; + they no doubt preferred that of the previous day. + </p> + <p> + In spite of this gay company I went to see Callimena twice a day; she + still made me sigh in vain. + </p> + <p> + Agatha was my confidante; she would gladly have helped me to attain my + ends, but her dignity would not allow of her giving me any overt + assistance. She promised to ask Callimena to accompany us on an excursion + to Sorrento, hoping that I should succeed in my object during the night we + should have to spend there. + </p> + <p> + Before Agatha had made these arrangements, Hamilton had made similar ones + with the Duchess of Kingston, and I succeeded in getting an invitation. I + associated chiefly with the two Saxons and a charming Abbe Guliani, with + whom I afterwards made a more intimate acquaintance at Rome. + </p> + <p> + We left Naples at four o’clock in the morning, in a felucca with twelve + oars, and at nine we reached Sorrento. + </p> + <p> + We were fifteen in number, and all were delighted with this earthly + paradise. + </p> + <p> + Hamilton took us to a garden belonging to the Duke of Serra Capriola, who + chanced to be there with his beautiful Piedmontese wife, who loved her + husband passionately. + </p> + <p> + The duke had been sent there two months before for having appeared in + public in an equipage which was adjudged too magnificent. The minister + Tanucci called on the king to punish this infringement of the sumptuary + laws, and as the king had not yet learnt to resist his ministers, the duke + and his wife were exiled to this earthly paradise. But a paradise which is + a prison is no paradise at all; they were both dying of ennui, and our + arrival was balm in Gilead to them. + </p> + <p> + A certain Abbe Bettoni, whose acquaintance I had made nine years before at + the late Duke of Matalone’s, had come to see them, and was delighted to + meet me again. + </p> + <p> + The abbe was a native of Brescia, but he had chosen Sorrento as his + residence. He had three thousand crowns a year, and lived well, enjoying + all the gifts of Bacchus, Ceres, Comus, and Venus, the latter being his + favourite divinity. He had only to desire to attain, and no man could + desire greater pleasure than he enjoyed at Sorrento. I was vexed to see + Count Medini with him; we were enemies, and gave each other the coldest of + greetings. + </p> + <p> + We were twenty-two at table and enjoyed delicious fare, for in that land + everything is good; the very bread is sweeter than elsewhere. We spent the + afternoon in inspecting the villages, which are surrounded by avenues + finer than the avenues leading to the grandest castles in Europe. + </p> + <p> + Abbe Bettoni treated us to lemon, coffee, and chocolate ices, and some + delicious cream cheese. Naples excels in these delicacies, and the abbe + had everything of the best. We were waited on by five or six country girls + of ravishing beauty, dressed with exquisite neatness. I asked him whether + that were his seraglio, and he replied that it might be so, but that + jealousy was unknown, as I should see for myself if I cared to spend a + week with him. + </p> + <p> + I envied this happy man, and yet I pitied him, for he was at least twelve + years older than I, and I was by no means young. His pleasures could not + last much longer. + </p> + <p> + In the evening we returned to the duke’s, and sat down to a supper + composed of several kinds of fish. + </p> + <p> + The air of Sorrento gives an untiring appetite, and the supper soon + disappeared. + </p> + <p> + After supper my lady proposed a game at faro, and Bettoni, knowing Medini + to be a professional gamester, asked him to hold the bank. He begged to be + excused, saying he had not enough money, so I consented to take his place. + </p> + <p> + The cards were brought in, and I emptied my poor purse on the table. It + only held four hundred ounces, but that was all I possessed. + </p> + <p> + The game began; and on Medini asking me if I would allow him a share in + the bank, I begged him to excuse me on the score of inconvenience. + </p> + <p> + I went on dealing till midnight, and by that time I had only forty ounces + left. Everybody had won except Sir Rosebury, who had punted in English + bank notes, which I had put into my pocket without counting. + </p> + <p> + When I got to my room I thought I had better look at the bank notes, for + the depletion of my purse disquieted me. My delight may be imagined. I + found I had got four hundred and fifty pounds—more than double what + I had lost. + </p> + <p> + I went to sleep well pleased with my day’s work, and resolved not to tell + anyone of my good luck. + </p> + <p> + The duchess had arranged for us to start at nine, and Madame de Serra + Capriola begged us to take coffee with her before going. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast Medini and Bettoni came in, and the former asked Hamilton + whether he would mind his returning with us. Of course, Hamilton could not + refuse, so he came on board, and at two o’clock I was back at my inn. I + was astonished to be greeted in my antechamber by a young lady, who asked + me sadly whether I remembered her. She was the eldest of the five + Hanoverians, the same that had fled with the Marquis della Petina. + </p> + <p> + I told her to come in, and ordered dinner to be brought up. + </p> + <p> + “If you are alone,” she said, “I should be glad to share your repast.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; I will order dinner for two.” + </p> + <p> + Her story was soon told. She had come to Naples with her husband, whom her + mother refused to recognize. The poor wretch had sold all he possessed, + and two or three months after he had been arrested on several charges of + forgery. His poor mate had supported him in prison for seven years. She + had heard that I was at Naples, and wanted me to help her, not as the + Marquis della Petina wished, by lending him money, but by employing my + influence with the Duchess of Kingston to make that lady take her to + England with her in her service. + </p> + <p> + “Are you married to the marquis?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how could you keep him for seven years?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas . . . . You can think of a hundred ways, and they would all be + true.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you procure me an interview with the duchess?” + </p> + <p> + “I will try, but I warn you that I shall tell her the simple truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + “Come again to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + At six o’clock I went to ask Hamilton how I could exchange the English + notes I had won, and he gave me the money himself. + </p> + <p> + Before supper I spoke to the duchess about the poor Hanoverian. My lady + said she remembered seeing her, and that she would like to have a talk + with her before coming to any decision. I brought the poor creature to her + the next day, and left them alone. The result of the interview was that + the duchess took her into her service in the place of a Roman girl, and + the Hanoverian went to England with her. I never heard of her again, but a + few days after Petina sent to beg me to come and see him in prison, and I + could not refuse. I found him with a young man whom I recognized as his + brother, though he was very handsome and the marquis very ugly; but the + distinction between beauty and ugliness is often hard to point out. + </p> + <p> + This visit proved a very tedious one, for I had to listen to a long story + which did not interest me in the least. + </p> + <p> + As I was going out I was met by an official, who said another prisoner + wanted to speak to me. + </p> + <p> + “What’s his name?” + </p> + <p> + “His name is Gaetano, and he says he is a relation of yours.” + </p> + <p> + My relation and Gaetano! I thought it might be the abbe. + </p> + <p> + I went up to the first floor, and found a score of wretched prisoners + sitting on the ground roaring an obscene song in chorus. + </p> + <p> + Such gaiety is the last resource of men condemned to imprisonment on the + galleys; it is nature giving her children some relief. + </p> + <p> + One of the prisoners came up to me and greeted me as “gossip.” He would + have embraced me, but I stepped back. He told me his name, and I + recognized in him that Gaetano who had married a pretty woman under my + auspices as her godfather. The reader may remember that I afterwards + helped her to escape from him. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to see you here, but what can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + “You can pay me the hundred crowns you owe me, for the goods supplied to + you at Paris by me.” + </p> + <p> + This was a lie, so I turned my back on him, saying I supposed imprisonment + had driven him mad. + </p> + <p> + As I went away I asked an official why he had been imprisoned, and was + told it was for forgery, and that he would have been hanged if it had not + been for a legal flaw. He was sentenced to imprisonment for life. + </p> + <p> + I dismissed him from my mind, but in the afternoon I had a visit from an + advocate who demanded a hundred crowns on Gaetano’s behalf, supporting his + claim by the production of an immense ledger, where my name appeared as + debtor on several pages. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said I, “the man is mad; I don’t owe him anything, and the evidence + of this book is utterly worthless. + </p> + <p> + “You make a mistake, sir,” he replied; “this ledger is good evidence, and + our laws deal very favorably with imprisoned creditors. I am retained for + them, and if you do not settle the matter by to-morrow I shall serve you + with a summons.” + </p> + <p> + I restrained my indignation and asked him politely for his name and + address. He wrote it down directly, feeling quite certain that his affair + was as good as settled. + </p> + <p> + I called on Agatha, and her husband was much amused when I told my story. + </p> + <p> + He made me sign a power of attorney, empowering him to act for me, and he + then advised the other advocate that all communications in the case must + be made to him alone. + </p> + <p> + The ‘paglietti’ who abound in Naples only live by cheating, and especially + by imposing on strangers. + </p> + <p> + Sir Rosebury remained at Naples, and I found myself acquainted with all + the English visitors. They all lodged at “Crocielles,” for the English are + like a flock of sheep; they follow each other about, always go to the same + place, and never care to shew any originality. We often arranged little + trips in which the two Saxons joined, and I found the time pass very + pleasantly. Nevertheless, I should have left Naples after the fair if my + love for Callimena had not restrained me. I saw her every day and made her + presents, but she only granted me the slightest of favours. + </p> + <p> + The fair was nearly over, and Agatha was making her preparations for going + to Sorrento as had been arranged. She begged her husband to invite a lady + whom he had loved before marrying her while she invited Pascal Latilla for + herself, and Callimena for me. + </p> + <p> + There were thus three couples, and the three gentlemen were to defray all + expenses. + </p> + <p> + Agatha’s husband took the direction of everything. + </p> + <p> + A few days before the party I saw, to my surprise, Joseph, son of Madame + Cornelis and brother of my dear Sophie. + </p> + <p> + “How did you come to Naples? Whom are you with?” + </p> + <p> + “I am by myself. I wanted to see Italy, and my mother gave me this + pleasure. I have seen Turin, Milan, Genoa, Florence, Venice, and Rome; and + after I have done Italy I shall see Switzerland and Germany, and then + return to England by way of Holland.” + </p> + <p> + “How long is this expedition to take?” + </p> + <p> + “Six months.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you will be able to give a full account of everything when you + go back to London?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope to convince my mother that the money she spent was not wasted.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do you think it will cost you?” + </p> + <p> + “The five hundred guineas she gave me, no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say you are only going to spend five hundred guineas in + six months? I can’t believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “Economy works wonders.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so. How have you done as to letters of introduction in all + these countries of which you now know so much?” + </p> + <p> + “I have had no introductions. I carry an English passport, and let people + think that I am English.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t you afraid of getting into bad company?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t give myself the chance. I don’t speak to anyone, and when people + address me I reply in monosyllables. I always strike a bargain before I + eat a meal or take a lodging. I only travel in public conveyances.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. Here you will be able to economize; I will pay all your + expenses, and give you an excellent cicerone, one who will cost you + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “I am much obliged, but I promised my mother not to accept anything from + anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you might make an exception in my case.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I have relations in Venice, and I would not take so much as a single + dinner from them. When I promise, I perform.” + </p> + <p> + Knowing his obstinacy, I did not insist. He was now a young man of + twenty-three, of a delicate order of prettiness, and might easily have + been taken for a girl in disguise if he had not allowed his whiskers to + grow. + </p> + <p> + Although his grand tour seemed an extravagant project, I could not help + admiring his courage and desire to be well informed. + </p> + <p> + I asked him about his mother and daughter, and he replied to my questions + without reserve. + </p> + <p> + He told me that Madame Cornelis was head over ears in debts, and spent + about half the year in prison. She would then get out by giving fresh + bills and making various arrangements with her creditors, who knew that if + they did not allow her to give her balls, they could not expect to get + their money. + </p> + <p> + My daughter, I heard, was a pretty girl of seventeen, very talented, and + patronized by the first ladies in London. She gave concerts, but had to + bear a good deal from her mother. + </p> + <p> + I asked him to whom she was to have been married, when she was taken from + the boarding school. He said he had never heard of anything of the kind. + </p> + <p> + “Are you in any business?” + </p> + <p> + “No. My mother is always talking of buying a cargo and sending me with it + to the Indies, but the day never seems to come, and I am afraid it never + will come. To buy a cargo one must have some money, and my mother has + none.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of his promise, I induced him to accept the services of my man, + who shewed him all the curiosities of Naples in the course of a week. + </p> + <p> + I could not make him stay another week. He set out for Rome, and wrote to + me from there that he had left six shirts and a great coat behind him. He + begged me to send them on, but he forgot to give me his address. + </p> + <p> + He was a hare-brained fellow, and yet with the help of two or three sound + maxims he managed to traverse half Europe without coming to any grief. + </p> + <p> + I had an unexpected visit from Goudar, who knew the kind of company I + kept, and wanted me to ask his wife and himself to dinner to meet the two + Saxons and my English friends. + </p> + <p> + I promised to oblige him on the understanding that there was to be no play + at my house, as I did not want to be involved in any unpleasantness. He + was perfectly satisfied with this arrangement, as he felt sure his wife + would attract them to his house, where, as he said, one could play without + being afraid of anything. + </p> + <p> + As I was going to Sorrento the next day, I made an appointment with him for + a day after my return. + </p> + <p> + This trip to Sorrento was my last happy day. + </p> + <p> + The advocate took us to a house where we were lodged with all possible + comfort. We had four rooms; the first was occupied by Agatha and her + husband, the second by Callimena and the advocate’s old sweetheart, the + third by Pascal Latilla, and the fourth by myself. + </p> + <p> + After supper we went early to bed, and rising with the sun we went our + several ways; the advocate with his old sweetheart, Agatha with Pascal, + and I with Callimena. At noon we met again to enjoy a delicious dinner, + and then the advocate took his siesta, while Pascal went for a walk with + Agatha and her husband’s sweetheart, and I wandered with Callimena under + the shady alleys where the heat of the sun could not penetrate. Here it + was that Callimena consented to gratify my passion. She gave herself for + love’s sake alone, and seemed sorry she had made me wait so long. + </p> + <p> + On the fourth day we returned to Naples in three carriages, as there was a + strong wind. Callimena persuaded me to tell her aunt what had passed + between us, that we might be able to meet without any restraint for the + future. + </p> + <p> + I approved of her idea, and, not fearing to meet with much severity from + the aunt, I took her apart and told her all that had passed, making her + reasonable offers. + </p> + <p> + She was a sensible woman, and heard what I had to say with great good + humour. She said that as I seemed inclined to do something for her niece, + she would let me know as soon as possible what she wanted most. I remarked + that as I should soon be leaving for Rome, I should like to sup with her + niece every evening. She thought this a very natural wish on my part, and + so we went to Callimena, who was delighted to hear the result of our + interview. + </p> + <p> + I lost no time, but supped and passed that night with her. I made her all + my own by the power of my love, and by buying her such things as she most + needed, such as linen, dresses, etc. It cost me about a hundred louis, and + in spite of the smallness of my means I thought I had made a good bargain. + Agatha, whom I told of my good luck, was delighted to have helped me to + procure it. + </p> + <p> + Two or three days after I gave a dinner to my English friends, the two + Saxons, Bartoldi their governor, and Goudar and his wife. + </p> + <p> + We were all ready, and only waiting for M. and Madame Goudar, when I saw + the fair Irishwoman come in with Count Medini. This piece of insolence + made all the blood in my body rush to my head. However, I restrained + myself till Goudar came in, and then I gave him a piece of my mind. It had + been agreed that his wife should come with him. The rascally fellow + prevaricated, and tried hard to induce me to believe that Medini had not + plotted the breaking of the bank, but his eloquence was in vain. + </p> + <p> + Our dinner was a most agreeable one, and Sara cut a brilliant figure, for + she possessed every pleasing quality that can make a woman attractive. In + good truth, this tavern girl would have filled a throne with any queen; + but Fortune is blind. + </p> + <p> + When the dinner was over, M. de Buturlin, a distinguished Russian, and a + great lover of pretty women, paid me a visit. He had been attracted by the + sweet voice of the fair Sara, who was singing a Neapolitan air to the + guitar. I shone only with a borrowed light, but I was far from being + offended. Buturlin fell in love with Sara on the spot, and a few months + after I left he got her for five hundred Louis, which Goudar required to + carry out the order he had received, namely, to leave Naples in three + days. + </p> + <p> + This stroke came from the queen, who found out that the king met Madame + Goudar secretly at Procida. She found her royal husband laughing heartily + at a letter which he would not shew her. + </p> + <p> + The queen’s curiosity was excited, and at last the king gave in, and her + majesty read the following: + </p> + <p> + “Ti aspettero nel medesimo luogo, ed alla stessa ora, coll’ impazienza + medesima che ha una vacca che desidera l’avicinamento del toro.” + </p> + <p> + “Chi infamia!” cried the queen, and her majesty gave the cow’s husband to + understand that in three days he would have to leave Naples, and look for + bulls in other countries. + </p> + <p> + If these events had not taken place, M. de Buturlin would not have made so + good a bargain. + </p> + <p> + After my dinner, Goudar asked all the company to sup with him the next + evening. The repast was a magnificent one, but when Medini sat down at the + end of a long table behind a heap of gold and a pack of cards, no punters + came forward. Madame Goudar tried in vain to make the gentlemen take a + hand. The Englishmen and the Saxons said politely that they should be + delighted to play if she or I would take the bank, but they feared the + count’s extraordinary fortune. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Goudar had the impudence to ask me to deal for a fourth share. + </p> + <p> + “I will not deal under a half share,” I replied, “though I have no + confidence in my luck.” + </p> + <p> + Goudar spoke to Medini, who got up, took away his share, and left me the + place. + </p> + <p> + I had only two hundred ounces in my purse. I placed them beside Goudar’s + two hundred, and in two hours my bank was broken, and I went to console + myself with my Callimena. + </p> + <p> + Finding myself penniless I decided to yield to the pressure of Agatha’s + husband, who continued to beg me to take back the jewelry I had given his + wife. I told Agatha I would never have consented if fortune had been + kinder to me. She told her husband, and the worthy man came out of his + closet and embraced me as if I had just made his fortune. + </p> + <p> + I told him I should like to have the value of the jewels, and the next day + I found myself once more in possession of fifteen thousand francs. From + that moment I decided to go to Rome, intending to stop there for eight + months; but before my departure the advocate said he must give me a dinner + at a casino which he had at Portici. + </p> + <p> + I had plenty of food for thought when I found myself in the house where I + had made a small fortune by my trick with the mercury five-and-twenty + years ago. + </p> + <p> + The king was then at Portici with his Court, and our curiosity attracting + us we were witnesses of a most singular spectacle. + </p> + <p> + The king was only nineteen and loved all kinds of frolics. He conceived a + desire to be tossed in a blanket! Probably few crowned heads have wished + to imitate Sancho Panza in this manner. + </p> + <p> + His majesty was tossed to his heart’s content; but after his aerial + journeys he wished to laugh at those whom he had amused. He began by + proposing that the queen should take part in the game; on her replying by + shrieks of laughter, his majesty did not insist. + </p> + <p> + The old courtiers made their escape, greatly to my regret, for I should + have liked to see them cutting capers in the air, specially Prince Paul + Nicander, who had been the king’s tutor, and had filled him with all his + own prejudices. + </p> + <p> + When the king saw that his old followers had fled, he was reduced to + asking the young nobles present to play their part. + </p> + <p> + I was not afraid for myself, as I was unknown, and not of sufficient rank + to merit such an honour. + </p> + <p> + After three or four young noblemen had been tossed, much to the amusement + of the queen and her ladies, the king cast his eyes on two young + Florentine nobles who had lately arrived at Naples. They were with their + tutor, and all three had been laughing heartily at the disport of the king + and his courtiers. + </p> + <p> + The monarch came up and accosted them very pleasantly, proposing that they + should take part in the game. + </p> + <p> + The wretched Tuscans had been baked in a bad oven; they were undersized, + ugly, and humpbacked. + </p> + <p> + His majesty’s proposal seemed to put them on thorns. Everybody listened + for the effects of the king’s eloquence; he was urging them to undress, + and saying that it would be unmannerly to refuse; there could be no + humiliation in it, he said, as he himself had been the first to submit. + </p> + <p> + The tutor felt that it would not do to give the king a refusal, and told + them that they must give in, and thereupon the two Florentines took off + their clothes. + </p> + <p> + When the company saw their figures and doleful expressions, the laughter + became general. The king took one of them by the hand, observing in an + encouraging manner that there would be no danger; and as a special honour + he held one of the corners of the blanket himself. But, for all that, big + tears rolled down the wretched young man’s cheeks. + </p> + <p> + After three or four visits to the ceiling, and amusing everyone by the + display of his long thin legs, he was released, and the younger brother + went to the torture smilingly, for which he was rewarded by applause. + </p> + <p> + The governor, suspecting that his majesty destined him for the same fate, + had slipped out; and the king laughed merrily when he heard of his + departure. + </p> + <p> + Such was the extraordinary spectacle we enjoyed—a spectacle in every + way unique. + </p> + <p> + Don Pascal Latilla, who had been lucky enough to avoid his majesty’s + notice, told us a number of pleasant anecdotes about the king; all shewed + him in the amiable light of a friend of mirth and an enemy to all pomp and + stateliness, by which kings are hedged in generally. He assured us that no + one could help liking him, because he always preferred to be treated as a + friend rather than a monarch. + </p> + <p> + “He is never more grieved,” said Pascal, “than when his minister Tanucci + shews him that he must be severe, and his greatest joy is to grant a + favour.” + </p> + <p> + Ferdinand had not the least tincture of letters, but as he was a man of + good sense he honoured lettered men most highly, indeed anyone of merit + was sure of his patronage. He revered the minister Marco, he had the + greatest respect for the memory of Lelio Caraffa, and of the Dukes of + Matalone, and he had provided handsomely for a nephew of the famous man of + letters Genovesi, in consideration of his uncle’s merits. + </p> + <p> + Games of chance were forbidden; and one day he surprised a number of the + officers of his guard playing at faro. The young men were terrified at the + sight of the king, and would have hidden their cards and money. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t put yourselves out,” said the kindly monarch, “take care that + Tanucci doesn’t catch you, but don’t mind me.” + </p> + <p> + His father was extremely fond of him up to the time when he was obliged to + resist the paternal orders in deference to State reasons. + </p> + <p> + Ferdinand knew that though he was the King of Spain’s son, he was none the + less king of the two Sicilies, and his duties as king had the prerogative + over his duties as son. + </p> + <p> + Some months after the suppression of the Jesuits, he wrote his father a + letter, beginning: + </p> + <p> + “There are four things which astonish me very much. The first is that + though the Jesuits were said to be so rich, not a penny was found upon + them at the suppression; the second, that though the Scrivani of Naples + are supposed to take no fees, yet their wealth is immense; the third, that + while all the other young couples have children sooner or later, we have + none; and the fourth, that all men die at last, except Tanucci, who, I + believe, will live on in ‘saecula saeculorum’.” + </p> + <p> + The King of Spain shewed this letter to all the ministers and ambassadors, + that they might see that his son was a clever man, and he was right; for a + man who can write such a letter must be clever. + </p> + <p> + Two or three days later, the Chevalier de Morosini, the nephew of the + procurator, and sole heir of the illustrious house of Morosini, came to + Naples accompanied by his tutor Stratico, the professor of mathematics at + Padua, and the same that had given me a letter for his brother, the Pisan + professor. He stayed at the “Crocielles,” and we were delighted to see one + another again. + </p> + <p> + Morosini, a young man of nineteen, was travelling to complete his + education. He had spent three years at Turin academy, and was now under + the superintendence of a man who could have introduced him to the whole + range of learning, but unhappily the will was wanting in the pupil. The + young Venetian loved women to excess, frequented the society of young + rakes, and yawned in good company. He was a sworn foe to study, and spent + his money in a lavish manner, less from generosity than from a desire to + be revenged on his uncle’s economies. He complained of being still kept in + tutelage; he had calculated that he could spend eight hundred sequins a + month, and thought his allowance of two hundred sequins a month an insult. + With this notion, he set himself to sow debts broadcast, and only laughed + at his tutor when he mildly reproached him for his extravagance, and + pointed out that if he were saving for the present, he would be able to be + all the more magnificent on his return to Venice. His uncle had made an + excellent match for him; he was to marry a girl who was extremely pretty, + and also the heiress of the house of Grimani de Servi. + </p> + <p> + The only redeeming feature in the young man’s character was that he had a + mortal hatred of all kinds of play. + </p> + <p> + Since my bank had been broken I had been at Goudar’s, but I would not + listen to his proposal that I should join them again. Medini had become a + sworn foe of mine. As soon as I came, he would go away, but I pretended + not to notice him. He was at Goudar’s when I introduced Morosini and his + mentor, and thinking the young man good game he became very intimate with + him. When he found out that Morosini would not hear of gaming, his hatred + of me increased, for he was certain that I had warned the rich Venetian + against him. + </p> + <p> + Morosini was much taken with Sara’s charms, and only thought of how he + could possess her. He was still a young man, full of romantic notions, and + she would have become odious in his eyes if he could have guessed that she + would have to be bought with a heavy price. + </p> + <p> + He told me several times that if a woman proposed payment for her favours, + his disgust would expel his love in a moment. As he said, and rightly, he + was as good a man as Madame Goudar was a woman. + </p> + <p> + This was distinctly a good point in his character; no woman who gave her + favours in exchange for presents received could hope to dupe him. Sara’s + maxims were diametrically opposed to his; she looked on her love as a bill + of exchange. + </p> + <p> + Stratico was delighted to see him engaged in this intrigue, for the chief + point in dealing with him was to keep him occupied. If he had no + distractions he took refuge in bad company or furious riding. He would + sometimes ride ten or twelve stages at full gallop, utterly ruining the + horses. He was only too glad to make his uncle pay for them, as he swore + he was an old miser. + </p> + <p> + After I had made up my mind to leave Naples, I had a visit from Don Pascal + Latilla, who brought with him the Abbe Galiani, whom I had known at Paris. + </p> + <p> + It may be remembered that I had known his brother at St. Agatha’s, where I + had stayed with him, and left him Donna Lucrezia Castelli. + </p> + <p> + I told him that I had intended to visit him, and asked if Lucrezia were + still with him. + </p> + <p> + “She lives at Salerno,” said he, “with her daughter the Marchioness C——.” + </p> + <p> + I was delighted to hear the news; if it had not been for the abbe’s visit, + I should never have heard what had become of these ladies. + </p> + <p> + I asked him if he knew the Marchioness C——. + </p> + <p> + “I only know the marquis,” he replied, “he is old and very rich.” + </p> + <p> + That was enough for me. + </p> + <p> + A couple of days afterwards Morosini invited Sara, Goudar, two young + gamesters, and Medini, to dinner. The latter had not yet given up hopes of + cheating the chevalier in one way or another. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of dinner it happened that Medini differed in opinion from + me, and expressed his views in such a peremptory manner that I remarked + that a gentleman would be rather more choice in his expressions. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe,” he replied, “but I am not going to learn manners from you.” + </p> + <p> + I constrained myself, and said nothing, but I was getting tired of his + insolence; and as he might imagine that my resentment was caused by fear, + I determined on disabusing him. + </p> + <p> + As he was taking his coffee on the balcony overlooking the sea, I came up + to him with my cup in my hand, and said that I was tired of the rudeness + with which he treated me in company. + </p> + <p> + “You would find me ruder still,” he replied, “if we could meet without + company.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I could convince you of your mistake if we could have a private + meeting.” + </p> + <p> + “I should very much like to see you do it.” + </p> + <p> + “When you see me go out, follow me, and don’t say a word to anyone.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not fail.” + </p> + <p> + I rejoined the company, and walked slowly towards Pausilippo. I looked + back and saw him following me; and as he was a brave fellow, and we both + had our swords, I felt sure the thing would soon be settled. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I found myself in the open country, where we should not be + interrupted, I stopped short. + </p> + <p> + As he drew near I attempted a parley, thinking that we might come to a + more amicable settlement; but the fellow rushed on me with his sword in + one hand and his hat in the other. + </p> + <p> + I lunged out at him, and instead of attempting to parry he replied in + quart. The result was that our blades were caught in each other’s sleeves; + but I had slit his arm, while his point had only pierced the stuff of my + coat. + </p> + <p> + I put myself on guard again to go on, but I could see he was too weak to + defend himself, so I said if he liked I would give him quarter. + </p> + <p> + He made no reply, so I pressed on him, struck him to the ground, and + trampled on his body. + </p> + <p> + He foamed with rage, and told me that it was my turn this time, but that + he hoped I would give him his revenge. + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure, at Rome, and I hope the third lesson will be more + effectual than the two I have already given you.” + </p> + <p> + He was losing a good deal of blood, so I sheathed his sword for him and + advised him to go to Goudar’s house, which was close at hand, and have his + wound attended to. + </p> + <p> + I went back to “Crocielles” as if nothing had happened. The chevalier was + making love to Sara, and the rest were playing cards. + </p> + <p> + I left the company an hour afterwards without having said a word about my + duel, and for the last time I supped with Callimena. Six years later I saw + her at Venice, displaying her beauty and her talents on the boards of St. + Benedict’s Theatre. + </p> + <p> + I spent a delicious night with her, and at eight o’clock the next day I + went off in a post-chaise without taking leave of anyone. + </p> + <p> + I arrived at Salerno at two o’clock in the afternoon, and as soon as I had + taken a room I wrote a note to Donna Lucrezia Castelli at the Marquis C——‘s. + </p> + <p> + I asked her if I could pay her a short visit, and begged her to send a + reply while I was taking my dinner. + </p> + <p> + I was sitting down to table when I had the pleasure of seeing Lucrezia + herself come in. She gave a cry of delight and rushed to my arms. + </p> + <p> + This excellent woman was exactly my own age, but she would have been taken + for fifteen years younger. + </p> + <p> + After I had told her how I had come to hear about her I asked for news of + our daughter. + </p> + <p> + “She is longing to see you, and her husband too; he is a worthy old man, + and will be so glad to know you.” + </p> + <p> + “How does he know of my existence?” + </p> + <p> + “Leonilda has mentioned your name a thousand times during the five years + they have been married. He is aware that you gave her five thousand + ducats. We shall sup together.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go directly; I cannot rest till I have seen my Leonilda and the + good husband God has given her. Have they any children?” + </p> + <p> + “No, unluckily for her, as after his death the property passes to his + relations. But Leonilda will be a rich woman for all that; she will have a + hundred thousand ducats of her own.” + </p> + <p> + “You have never married.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “You are as pretty as you were twenty-six years ago, and if it had not + been for the Abbe Galiani I should have left Naples without seeing you.” + </p> + <p> + I found Leonilda had developed into a perfect beauty. She was at that time + twenty-three years old. + </p> + <p> + Her husband’s presence was no constraint upon her; she received me with + open arms, and put me completely at my ease. + </p> + <p> + No doubt she was my daughter, but in spite of our relationship and my + advancing years I still felt within my breast the symptoms of the + tenderest passion for her. + </p> + <p> + She presented me to her husband, who suffered dreadfully from gout, and + could not stir from his arm-chair. + </p> + <p> + He received me with smiling face and open arms, saying,— + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend, embrace me.” + </p> + <p> + I embraced him affectionately, and in our greeting I discovered that he + was a brother mason. The marquis had expected as much, but I had not; for + a nobleman of sixty who could boast that he had been enlightened was a + ‘rara avis’ in the domains of his Sicilian majesty thirty years ago. + </p> + <p> + I sat down beside him and we embraced each other again, while the ladies + looked on amazed, wondering to see us so friendly to each other. + </p> + <p> + Donna Leonilda fancied that we must be old friends, and told her husband + how delighted she was. The old man burst out laughing, and Lucrezia + suspecting the truth bit her lips and said nothing. The fair marchioness + reserved her curiosity for another reason. + </p> + <p> + The marquis had seen the whole of Europe. He had only thought of marrying + on the death of his father, who had attained the age of ninety. Finding + himself in the enjoyment of thirty thousand ducats a year he imagined that + he might yet have children in spite of his advanced age. He saw Leonilda, + and in a few days he made her his wife, giving her a dowry of a hundred + thousand ducats. Donna Lucrezia went to live with her daughter. Though the + marquis lived magnificently, he found it difficult to spend more than half + his income. + </p> + <p> + He lodged all his relations in his immense palace; there were three + families in all, and each lived apart. + </p> + <p> + Although they were comfortably off they were awaiting with impatience the + death of the head of the family, as they would then share his riches. The + marquis had only married in the hope of having an heir; and these hopes he + could no longer entertain. However, he loved his wife none the less, while + she made him happy by her charming disposition. + </p> + <p> + The marquis was a man of liberal views like his wife, but this was a great + secret, as free thought was not appreciated at Salerno. Consequently, any + outsider would have taken the household for a truly Christian one, and the + marquis took care to adopt in appearance all the prejudices of his + fellow-countrymen. + </p> + <p> + Donna Lucrezia told me all this three hours after as we walked in a + beautiful garden, where her husband had sent us after a long conversation + on subjects which could not have been of any interest to the ladies. + Nevertheless, they did not leave us for a moment, so delighted were they + to find that the marquis had met a congenial spirit. + </p> + <p> + About six o’clock the marquis begged Donna Lucrezia to take me to the + garden and amuse me till the evening. His wife he asked to stay, as he had + something to say to her. + </p> + <p> + It was in the middle of August and the heat was great, but the room on the + ground floor which we occupied was cooled by a delicious breeze. + </p> + <p> + I looked out of the window and noticed that the leaves on the trees were + still, and that no wind was blowing; and I could not help saying to the + marquis that I was astonished to find his room as cool as spring in the + heats of summer. + </p> + <p> + “Your sweetheart will explain it to you,” said he. + </p> + <p> + We went through several apartments, and at last reached a closet, in one + corner of which was a square opening. + </p> + <p> + From it rushed a cold and even violent wind. From the opening one could go + down a stone staircase of at least a hundred steps, and at the bottom was + a grotto where was the source of a stream of water as cold as ice. Donna + Lucrezia told me it would be a great risk to go down the steps without + excessively warm clothing. + </p> + <p> + I have never cared to run risks of this kind. Lord Baltimore, on the other + hand, would have laughed at the danger, and gone, maybe, to his death. I + told my old sweetheart that I could imagine the thing very well from the + description, and that I had no curiosity to see whether my imagination + were correct. + </p> + <p> + Lucrezia told me I was very prudent, and took me to the garden. + </p> + <p> + It was a large place, and separated from the garden common to the three + other families who inhabited the castle. Every flower that can be imagined + was there, fountains threw their glittering sprays, and grottoes afforded + a pleasing shade from the sun. + </p> + <p> + The alleys of this terrestrial paradise were formed of vines, and the + bunches of grapes seemed almost as numerous as the leaves. + </p> + <p> + Lucrezia enjoyed my surprise, and I told her that I was not astonished at + being more moved by this than by the vines of Tivoli and Frascati. The + immense rather dazzles the eyes than moves the heart. + </p> + <p> + She told me that her daughter was happy, and that the marquis was an + excellent man, and a strong man except for the gout. His great grief was + that he had no children. Amongst his dozen of nephews there was not one + worthy of succeeding to the title. + </p> + <p> + “They are all ugly, awkward lads, more like peasants than noblemen; all + their education has been given them by a pack of ignorant priests; and so + it is not to be wondered that the marquis does not care for them much.” + </p> + <p> + “But is Leonilda really happy?” + </p> + <p> + “She is, though her husband cannot be quite so ardent as she would like at + her age.” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t seem to me to be a very jealous man.” + </p> + <p> + “He is entirely free from jealousy, and if Leonilda would take a lover I + am sure he would be his best friend. And I feel certain he would be only + too glad to find the beautiful soil which he cannot fertile himself + fertilized by another.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it positively certain that he is incapable of begetting a child?” + </p> + <p> + “No, when he is well he does his best; but there seems no likelihood of + his ardour having any happy results. There was some ground to hope in the + first six months of the marriage, but since he has had the gout so badly + there seems reason to fear lest his amorous ecstasies should have a fatal + termination. Sometimes he wants to approach her, but she dare not let him, + and this pains her very much.” + </p> + <p> + I was struck with a lively sense of Lucrezia’s merits, and was just + revealing to her the sentiments which she had re-awakened in my breast, + when the marchioness appeared in the garden, followed by a page and a + young lady. + </p> + <p> + I affected great reverence as she came up to us; and as if we had given + each other the word, she answered me in atone of ceremonious politeness. + </p> + <p> + “I have come on an affair of the highest importance,” she said, “and if I + fail I shall for ever lose the reputation of a diplomatist.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the other diplomatist with whom you are afraid of failing?” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Then your battle is over, for I consent before I know what you ask. I + only make a reserve on one point.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the worse, as that may turn out to be just what I want you to do. + Tell me what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “I was going to Rome, when the Abbe Galiani told me that Donna Lucrezia + was here with you.” + </p> + <p> + “And can a short delay interfere with your happiness? Are you not your own + master?” + </p> + <p> + “Smile on me once more; your desires are orders which must be obeyed. I + have always been my own master, but I cease to be so from this moment, + since I am your most humble servant.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. Then I command you to come and spend a few days with us at an + estate we have at a short distance. My husband will have himself + transported here. You will allow me to send to the inn for your luggage?” + </p> + <p> + “Here, sweet marchioness, is the key to my room. Happy the mortal whom you + deign to command.” + </p> + <p> + Leonilda gave the key to the page, a pretty boy, and told him to see that + all my belongings were carefully taken to the castle. + </p> + <p> + Her lady-in-waiting was very fair. I said so to Leonilda in French, not + knowing that the young lady understood the language, but she smiled and + told her mistress that we were old acquaintances. + </p> + <p> + “When had I the pleasure of knowing you, mademoiselle?” + </p> + <p> + “Nine year ago. You have often spoken to me and teased me.” + </p> + <p> + “Where, may I ask?” + </p> + <p> + “At the Duchess of Matalone’s.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be, and I think I do begin to remember, but I really cannot + recollect having teased you.” + </p> + <p> + The marchioness and her mother were highly amused at this conversation, + and pressed the girl to say how I had teased her. She confined herself, + however, to saying that I had played tricks on her. I thought I remembered + having stolen a few kisses, but I left the ladies to think what they + liked. + </p> + <p> + I was a great student of the human heart, and felt that these reproaches + of Anastasia’s (such was her name) were really advances, but unskillfully + made, for if she had wanted more of me, she should have held her peace and + bided her time. + </p> + <p> + “It strikes me,” said I, “that you were much smaller in those days.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was only twelve or thirteen. You have changed also.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have aged.” + </p> + <p> + We began talking about the late Duke of Matalone, and Anastasia left us. + </p> + <p> + We sat down in a charming grotto, and began styling each other papa and + daughter, and allowing ourselves liberties which threatened to lead to + danger. + </p> + <p> + The marchioness tried to calm my transports by talking of her good + husband. + </p> + <p> + Donna Lucrezia remarked our mutual emotion as I held Leonilda in my arms, + and warned us to be careful. She then left us to walk in a different part + of the garden. + </p> + <p> + Her words had the contrary effect to what was intended, for as soon as she + left us in so opportune a manner, although we had no intention of + committing the double crime, we approached too near to each other, and an + almost involuntary movement made, the act complete. + </p> + <p> + We remained motionless, looking into one another’s eyes, in mute + astonishment, as we confessed afterwards, to find neither guilt nor + repentance in our breasts. + </p> + <p> + We rearranged our position, and the marchioness sitting close to me called + me her dear husband, while I called her my dear wife. + </p> + <p> + The new bond between us was confirmed by affectionate kisses. We were + absorbed and silent, and Lucrezia was delighted to find us so calm when + she returned. + </p> + <p> + We had no need to warn each other to observe secrecy. Donna Lucrezia was + devoid of prejudice, but there was no need to give her a piece of useless + information. + </p> + <p> + We felt certain that she had left us alone, so as not to be a witness of + what we were going to do. + </p> + <p> + After some further conversation we went back to the palace with Anastasia, + whom we found in the alley by herself. + </p> + <p> + The marquis received his wife with joy, congratulating her on the success + of her negotiations. He thanked me for my compliance, and assured me I + should have a comfortable apartment in his country house. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you will not mind having our friend for a neighbor?” he said to + Lucrezia. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said she; “but we will be discreet, for the flower of our lives has + withered.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall believe as much of that as I please.” + </p> + <p> + The worthy man dearly loved a joke. + </p> + <p> + The long table was laid for five, and as soon as dinner was served an old + priest came in and sat down. He spoke to nobody, and nobody spoke to him. + </p> + <p> + The pretty page stood behind the marchioness, and we were waited on by ten + or twelve servants. + </p> + <p> + I had only a little soup at dinner, so I ate like an ogre, for I was very + hungry, and the marquis’s French cook was a thorough artist. + </p> + <p> + The marquis exclaimed with delight as I devoured one dish after another. + He told me that the only fault in his wife that she was a very poor eater + like her mother. At dessert the wine began to take effect, and our + conversation, which was conducted in French, became somewhat free. The old + priest took no notice, as he only understood Italian, and he finally left + us after saying the ‘agimus’. + </p> + <p> + The marquis told me that this ecclesiastic had been a confessor to the + palace for the last twenty years, but had never confessed anybody. He + warned me to take care what I said before him if I spoke Italian, but he + did not know a word of French. + </p> + <p> + Mirth was the order of the day, and I kept the company at table till an + hour after midnight. + </p> + <p> + Before we parted for the night the marquis told me that we would start in + the afternoon, and that he should arrive an hour before us. He assured his + wife that he was quite well, and that he hoped to convince her that I had + made him ten years younger. Leonilda embraced him tenderly, begging him to + be careful of his health. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said he, “but get ready to receive me.” + </p> + <p> + I wished them a good night, and a little marquis at nine months from date. + </p> + <p> + “Draw the bill,” said he to me, “and to-morrow I will accept it.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you,” said Lucrezia, “to do my best to ensure your meeting your + obligations.” + </p> + <p> + Donna Lucrezia took me to my room, where she handed me over to the charge + of an imposing-looking servant, and wished me a good night. + </p> + <p> + I slept for eight hours in a most comfortable bed, and when I was dressed + Lucrezia took me to breakfast with the marchioness, who was at her + toilette. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I may draw my bill at nine months?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “It will very probably be met,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, really; and it will be to you that my husband will owe the happiness + he has so long desired. He told me so when he left me an hour ago. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted to add to your mutual happiness.” + </p> + <p> + She looked so fresh and happy that I longed to kiss her, but I was obliged + to restrain myself as she was surrounded by her pretty maids. + </p> + <p> + The better to throw any spies off the scent I began to make love to + Anastasia, and Leonilda pretended to encourage me. + </p> + <p> + I feigned a passionate desire, and I could see that I should not have much + trouble in gaining my suit. I saw I should have to be careful if I did not + want to be taken at my word; I could not bear such a surfeit of pleasures. + </p> + <p> + We went to breakfast with the marquis, who was delighted to see us. He was + quite well, except the gout which prevented his walking. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast we heard mass, and I saw about twenty servants in the + chapel. After the service I kept the marquis company till dinner-time. He + said I was very good to sacrifice the company of the ladies for his sake. + </p> + <p> + After dinner we set out for his country house; I in a carriage with the + two ladies, and the marquis in a litter borne by two mules. + </p> + <p> + In an hour and a half we arrived at his fine and well-situated castle. + </p> + <p> + The first thing the marchioness did was to take me into the garden, where + my ardour returned and she once more abandoned herself to me. + </p> + <p> + We agreed that I should only go to her room to court Anastasia, as it was + necessary to avoid the slightest suspicion. + </p> + <p> + This fancy of mine for his wife’s maid amused the marquis, for his wife + kept him well posted in the progress of our intrigue. + </p> + <p> + Donna Lucrezia approved of the arrangement as she did not want the marquis + to think that I had only come to Salerno for her sake. My apartments were + next to Leonilda’s, but before I could get into her room I should be + obliged to pass through that occupied by Anastasia, who slept with another + maid still prettier than herself. + </p> + <p> + The marquis came an hour later, and he said he would get his people to + carry him in an arm-chair round the gardens, so that he might point out + their beauties to me. After supper he felt tired and went to bed, leaving + me to entertain the ladies. + </p> + <p> + After a few moments’ conversation, I led the marchioness to her room, and + she said I had better go to my own apartment through the maids’ room, + telling Anastasia to shew me the way. + </p> + <p> + Politeness obliged me to shew myself sensible of such a favour, and I said + I hoped she would not be so harsh as to lock her door upon me. + </p> + <p> + “I shall lock my door,” said she, “because it is my duty to do so. This + room is my mistress’s closet, and my companion would probably make some + remark if I left the door open contrary to my usual custom.” + </p> + <p> + “Your reasons are too good for me to overcome, but will you not sit down + beside me for a few minutes and help me to recollect how I used to tease + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want you to recollect anything about it; please let me go.” + </p> + <p> + “You must please yourself,” said I; and after embracing her and giving her + a kiss, I wished her good night. + </p> + <p> + My servant came in as she went out, and I told him that I would sleep by + myself for the future. + </p> + <p> + The next day the marchioness laughingly repeated the whole of my + conversation with Anastasia. + </p> + <p> + “I applauded her virtuous resistance, but I said she might safely assist + at your toilette every evening.” + </p> + <p> + Leonilda gave the marquis a full account of my talk with Anastasia. The + old man thought I was really in love with her, and had her in to supper + for my sake, so I was in common decency bound to play the lover. Anastasia + was highly pleased at my preferring her to her charming mistress, and at + the latter’s complaisance towards our love-making. + </p> + <p> + The marquis in his turn was equally pleased as he thought the intrigue + would make me stay longer at his house. + </p> + <p> + In the evening Anastasia accompanied me to my room with a candle, and + seeing that I had no valet she insisted combing my hair. She felt + flattered at my not presuming to go to bed in her presence, and kept me + company for an hour; and as I was not really amorous of her, I had no + difficulty in playing the part of the timid lover. When she wished me good + night she was delighted to find my kisses as affectionate but not so + daring as those of the night before. + </p> + <p> + The marchioness said, the next morning, that if the recital she had heard + were true, she was afraid Anastasia’s company tired me, as she very well + knew that when I really loved I cast timidity to the winds. + </p> + <p> + “No, she doesn’t tire me at all; she is pretty and amusing. But how can + you imagine that I really love her, when you know very well that the whole + affair is only designed to cast dust in everyone’s eyes?” + </p> + <p> + “Anastasia fully believes that you adore her, and indeed I am not sorry + that you should give her a little taste for gallantry.” + </p> + <p> + “If I can persuade her to leave her door open I can easily visit you, for + she will not imagine for a moment that after leaving her I go to your room + instead of my own.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care how you set about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I will see what I can do this evening.” + </p> + <p> + The marquis and Lucrezia had not the slightest doubt that Anastasia spent + every night with me, and they were delighted at the idea. + </p> + <p> + The whole of the day I devoted to the worthy marquis, who said my company + made him happy. It was no sacrifice on my part, for I liked his principles + and his way of thinking. + </p> + <p> + On the occasion of my third supper with Anastasia I was more tender than + ever, and she was very much astonished to find that I had cooled down when + I got to my room. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you so calm,” said she, “you quite frightened me at + supper.” + </p> + <p> + “The reason is that I know you think yourself in danger when you are alone + with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all; you are much more discreet than you were nine years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “What folly did I commit then?” + </p> + <p> + “No folly, but you did not respect my childhood.” + </p> + <p> + “I only gave you a few caresses, for which I am now sorry, as you are + frightened of me, and persist in locking your door.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mistrust you, but I have told you my reasons for locking the + door. I think that you must mistrust me, as you won’t go to bed while I am + in the room.” + </p> + <p> + “You must think me very presumptuous. I will go to bed, but you must not + leave me without giving me a kiss.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise to do so.” + </p> + <p> + I went to bed, and Anastasia spent half an hour beside me. I had a good + deal of difficulty in controlling myself, but I was afraid of her telling + the marchioness everything. + </p> + <p> + As she left me she gave me such a kind embrace that I could bear it no + longer, and guiding her hand I shewed her the power she exercised over me. + She then went away, and I shall not say whether my behaviour irritated or + pleased her. + </p> + <p> + The next day I was curious to know how much she had told the marchioness, + and on hearing nothing of the principal fact I felt certain she would not + lock her door that evening. + </p> + <p> + When the evening came I defied her to shew the same confidence in me as I + had shewn in her. She replied that she would do so with pleasure, if I + would blow out my candle and promise not to put my hand on her. I easily + gave her the required promise, for I meant to keep myself fresh for + Leonilda. + </p> + <p> + I undressed hastily, followed her with bare feet, and laid myself beside + her. + </p> + <p> + She took my hands and held them, to which I offered no resistance. We were + afraid of awakening her bedfellow, and kept perfect silence. Our lips + however gave themselves free course, and certain motions, natural under + the circumstances, must have made her believe that I was in torments. The + half hour I passed beside her seemed extremely long to me, but it must + have been delicious to her, as giving her the idea that she could do what + she liked with me. + </p> + <p> + When I left her after we had shared an ecstatic embrace, I returned to my + room, leaving the door open. As soon as I had reason to suppose that she + was asleep, I returned, and passed through her room to Leonilda’s. She was + expecting me, but did not know of my presence till I notified it with a + kiss. + </p> + <p> + After I had given her a strong proof of my love, I told her of my + adventure with Anastasia, and then our amorous exploits began again, and I + did not leave her till I had spent two most delicious hours. We agreed + that they should not be the last, and I returned to my room on tiptoe as I + had come. + </p> + <p> + I did not get up till noon, and the marquis and his wife jested with me at + dinner on the subject of my late rising. At supper it was Anastasia’s + turn, and she seemed to enjoy the situation. She told me in the evening + that she would not lock her door, but that I must not come into her room, + as it was dangerous. It would be much better, she said, for us to talk in + my room, where there would be no need of putting out the light. She added + that I had better go to bed, as then she would feel certain that she was + not tiring me in any way. + </p> + <p> + I could not say no, but I flattered myself that I would keep my strength + intact for Leonilda. + </p> + <p> + I reckoned without my host, as the proverb goes. + </p> + <p> + When I held Anastasia between my arms in bed, her lips glued to mine, I + told her, as in duty bound, that she did not trust in me enough to lie + beside me with her clothes off. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon she asked me if I would be very discreet. + </p> + <p> + If I had said no, I should have looked a fool. I made up my mind, and told + her yes, determined to satisfy the pretty girl’s desires. + </p> + <p> + In a moment she was in my arms, not at all inclined to keep me to my + promise. + </p> + <p> + Appetite, it is said, comes in eating. Her ardour made me amorous, and I + rendered homage to her charms till I fell asleep with fatigue. + </p> + <p> + Anastasia left me while I was asleep, and when I awoke I found myself in + the somewhat ridiculous position of being obliged to make a full + confession to the marchioness as to why I had failed in my duties to her. + </p> + <p> + When I told Leonilda my tale, she began to laugh and agreed that further + visits were out of the question. We made up our minds, and for the + remainder of my visit our amorous meetings only took place in the + summerhouses in the garden. + </p> + <p> + I had to receive Anastasia every night, and when I left for Rome and did + not take her with me she considered me as a traitor. + </p> + <p> + The worthy marquis gave me a great surprise on the eve of my departure. We + were alone together, and he began by saying that the Duke of Matalone had + told him the reason which had prevented me marrying Leonilda, and that he + had always admired my generosity in making her a present of five thousand + ducats, though I was far from rich. + </p> + <p> + “These five thousand ducats,” he added, “with seven thousand from the + duke, composed her dower, and I have added a hundred thousand, so that she + is sure of a comfortable living, even if I die without a successor. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I want you to take back the five thousand ducats you gave her; and + she herself is as desirous of your doing so as I am. She did not like to + ask you herself; she is too delicate.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should have refused Leonilda if she had asked me, but I accept + this mark of your friendship. A refusal would have borne witness to + nothing but a foolish pride, as I am a poor man. I should like Leonilda + and her mother to be present when you give me the money.” + </p> + <p> + “Embrace me; we will do our business after dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Naples has always been a temple of fortune to me, but if I went there now + I should starve. Fortune flouts old age. + </p> + <p> + Leonilda and Lucrezia wept with joy when the good marquis gave me the five + thousand ducats in bank notes, and presented his mother-in-law with an + equal sum in witness of his gratitude to her for having introduced me to + him. + </p> + <p> + The marquis was discreet enough not to reveal his chief reason. Donna + Lucrezia did not know that the Duke of Matalone had told him that Leonilda + was my daughter. + </p> + <p> + An excess of gratitude lessened my high spirits for the rest of the day, + and Anastasia did not spend a very lively night with me. + </p> + <p> + I went off at eight o’clock the next morning. I was sad, and the whole + house was in tears. + </p> + <p> + I promised that I would write to the marquis from Rome, and I reached + Naples at eleven o’clock. + </p> + <p> + I went to see Agatha, who was astonished at my appearance as she had + thought I was at Rome. Her husband welcomed me in the most friendly + manner, although he was suffering a great deal. + </p> + <p> + I said I would dine with them and start directly afterwards, and I asked + the advocate to get me a bill on Rome for five thousand ducats, in + exchange for the bank notes I gave him. + </p> + <p> + Agatha saw that my mind was made up, and without endeavoring to persuade + me to stay went in search of Callimena. + </p> + <p> + She too had thought I was in Rome, and was in an ecstasy of delight to see + me again. + </p> + <p> + My sudden disappearance and my unexpected return were the mystery of the + day, but I did not satisfy anyone’s curiosity. + </p> + <p> + I left them at three o’clock, and stopped at Montecasino, which I had + never seen. I congratulated myself on my idea, for I met there Prince + Xaver de Saxe, who was travelling under the name of Comte de Lusace with + Madame Spinucci, a lady of Fermo, with whom he had contracted a + semi-clandestine marriage. He had been waiting for three days to hear from + the Pope, for by St. Benedict’s rule women are not allowed in monasteries; + and as Madame Spinucci was extremely curious on the subject, her husband + had been obliged to apply for a dispensation to the Holy Father. + </p> + <p> + I slept at Montecasino after having seen the curiosities of the place, and + I went on to Rome, and put up with Roland’s daughter in the Place + d’Espagne. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0015" id="linkF2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Margarita—Madame Buondcorsi—The Duchess of Fiano—Cardinal + Bernis—The Princess Santa Croce—Menicuccio and His Sister +</pre> + <a name="linkFimage-0005" id="linkFimage-0005"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/6c15.jpg" width="100%" alt="Chapter 15 " /> + </div> + <p> + I had made up my mind to spend a quiet six months at Rome, and the day + after my arrival I took a pleasant suite of rooms opposite the Spanish + Ambassador, whose name was d’Aspura. It happened to be the same rooms as + were occupied twenty-seven years ago by the teacher of languages, to whom + I had gone for lessons while I was with Cardinal Acquaviva. The landlady + was the wife of a cook who only slept with his better half once a week. + The woman had a daughter of sixteen or seventeen years old, who would have + been very pretty if the small-pox had not deprived her of one eye. They + had provided her with an ill-made artificial eye, of a wrong size and a + bad colour, which gave a very unpleasant expression to her face. + Margarita, as she was called, made no impression on me, but I made her a + present which she valued very highly. There was an English oculist named + Taylor in Rome at that time, and I got him to make her an eye of the right + size and colour. This made Margarita imagine that I had fallen in love + with her, and the mother, a devotee, was in some trouble as to whether my + intentions were strictly virtuous. + </p> + <p> + I made arrangements with the mother to supply me with a good dinner and + supper without any luxury. I had three thousand sequins, and I had made up + my mind to live in a quiet and respectable manner. + </p> + <p> + The next day I found letters for me in several post-offices, and the + banker Belloni, who had known me for several years, had been already + advised of my bill of exchange. My good friend Dandolo sent me two letters + of introduction, of which one was addressed to M. Erizzo, the Venetian + ambassador. He was the brother of the ambassador to Paris. This letter + pleased me greatly. The other was addressed to the Duchess of Fiano, by + her brother M. Zuliani. + </p> + <p> + I saw that I should be free of all the best houses, and I promised myself + the pleasure of an early visit to Cardinal Bernis. + </p> + <p> + I did not hire either a carriage or a servant. At Rome both these articles + are procurable at a moment’s notice. + </p> + <p> + My first call was on the Duchess of Fiano. She was an ugly woman, and + though she was really very good-natured, she assumed the character of + being malicious so as to obtain some consideration. + </p> + <p> + Her husband, who bore the name of Ottoboni, had only married her to obtain + an heir, but the poor devil turned out to be what the Romans call + ‘babilano’, and we impotent. The duchess told me as much on the occasion + of my third visit. She did not give me the information in a complaining + tone, or as if she was fain to be consoled, but merely to defy her + confessor, who had threatened her with excommunication if she went on + telling people about her husband’s condition, or if she tried to cure him + of it. + </p> + <p> + The duchess gave a little supper every evening to her select circle of + friends. I was not admitted to these reunions for a week or ten days, by + which time I had made myself generally popular. The duke did not care for + company and supped apart. + </p> + <p> + The Prince of Santa Croce was the duchess’s ‘cavaliere servante’, and the + princess was served by Cardinal Bernis. The princess was a daughter of the + Marquis Falconieri, and was young, pretty, lively, and intended by nature + for a life of pleasure. However, her pride at possessing the cardinal was + so great that she did not give any hope to other competitors for her + favour. + </p> + <p> + The prince was a fine man of distinguished manners and great capability, + which he employed in business speculations, being of opinion, and rightly, + that it was no shame for a nobleman to increase his fortune by the + exercise of his intelligence. He was a careful man, and had attached + himself to the duchess because she cost him nothing, and he ran no risk of + falling in love with her. + </p> + <p> + Two or three weeks after my arrival he heard me complaining of the + obstacles to research in the Roman libraries, and he offered to give me an + introduction to the Superior of the Jesuits. I accepted the offer, and was + made free of the library; I could not only go and read when I liked, but I + could, on writing my name down, take books away with me. The keepers of + the library always brought me candles when it grew dark, and their + politeness was so great that they gave me the key of a side door, so that + I could slip in and out as I pleased. + </p> + <p> + The Jesuits were always the most polite of the regular clergy, or, indeed, + I may say the only polite men amongst them; but during the crisis in which + they were then involved, they were simply cringing. + </p> + <p> + The King of Spain had called for the suppression of the order, and the + Pope had promised that it should be done; but the Jesuits did not think + that such a blow could ever be struck, and felt almost secure. They did + not think that the Pope’s power was superhuman so far as they were + concerned. They even intimated to him by indirect channels that his + authority did not extend to the suppression of the order; but they were + mistaken. The sovereign pontiff delayed the signature of the bull, but his + hesitation proceeded from the fact that in signing it he feared lest he + should be signing his own sentence of death. Accordingly he put it off + till he found that his honour was threatened. The King of Spain, the most + obstinate tyrant in Europe, wrote to him with his own hand, telling him + that if he did not suppress the order he would publish in all the + languages of Europe the letters he had written when he was a cardinal, + promising to suppress the order when he became Pope. On the strength of + these letters Ganganelli had been elected. + </p> + <p> + Another man would have taken refuge in casuistry and told the king that it + was not for a pope to be bound to the cardinal’s promises, in which + contention he would have been supported by the Jesuits. However, in his + heart Ganganelli had no liking for the Jesuits. He was a Franciscan, and + not a gentleman by birth. He had not a strong enough intellect to defy the + king and all his threats, or to bear the shame of being exhibited to the + whole world as an ambitious and unscrupulous man. + </p> + <p> + I am amused when people tell me that Ganganelli poisoned himself by taking + so many antidotes. It is true that having reason, and good reason, to + dread poison, he made use of antidotes which, with his ignorance of + science, might have injured his health; but I am morally certain that he + died of poison which was given by other hands than his own. + </p> + <p> + My reasons for this opinion are as follows: + </p> + <p> + In the year of which I am speaking, the third of the Pontificate of + Clement XIV., a woman of Viterbo was put in prison on the charge of making + predictions. She obscurely prophesied the suppression of the Jesuits, + without giving any indication of the time; but she said very clearly that + the company would be destroyed by a pope who would only reign five years + three months and three days—that is, as long as Sixtus V., not a day + more and not a day less. + </p> + <p> + Everybody treated the prediction with contempt, as the product of a + brain-sick woman. She was shut up and quite forgotten. + </p> + <p> + I ask my readers to give a dispassionate judgment, and to say whether they + have any doubt as to the poisoning of Ganganelli when they hear that his + death verified the prophecy. + </p> + <p> + In a case like this, moral certainty assumes the force of scientific + certainty. The spirit which inspired the Pythia of Viterbo took its + measures to inform the world that if the Jesuits were forced to submit to + being suppressed, they were not so weak as to forego a fearful vengeance. + The Jesuit who cut short Ganganelli’s days might certainly have poisoned + him before the bull was signed, but the fact was that they could not bring + themselves to believe it till it took place. It is clear that if the Pope + had not suppressed the Jesuits, they would not have poisoned him, and here + again the prophecy could not be taxed with falsity. We may note that + Clement XIV., like Sixtus V., was a Franciscan, and both were of low + birth. It is also noteworthy that after the Pope’s death the prophetess + was liberated, and, though her prophecy had been fulfilled to the letter, + all the authorities persisted in saying that His Holiness had died from + his excessive use of antidotes. + </p> + <p> + It seems to me that any impartial judge will scout the idea of Ganganelli + having killed himself to verify the woman of Viterbo’s prediction. If you + say it was a mere coincidence, of course I cannot absolutely deny your + position, for it may have been chance; but my thoughts on the subject will + remain unchanged. + </p> + <p> + This poisoning was the last sign the Jesuits gave of their power. It was a + crime, because it was committed after the event, whereas, if it had been + done before the suppression of the order, it would have been a stroke of + policy, and might have been justified on politic grounds. The true + politician looks into the future, and takes swift and certain measures to + obtain the end he has in view. + </p> + <p> + The second time that the Prince of Santa Croce saw me at the Duchess of + Fiano’s, he asked me ‘ex abrupta’ why I did not visit Cardinal Bernis. + </p> + <p> + “I think of paying my suit to him to-morrow,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Do so, for I have never heard his eminence speak of anyone with as much + consideration as he speaks of yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “He has been very kind to me, and I shall always be grateful to him.” + </p> + <p> + The cardinal received me the next day with every sign of delight at seeing + me. He praised the reserve with which I had spoken of him to the prince, + and said he need not remind me of the necessity for discretion as to our + old Venetian adventures. + </p> + <p> + “Your eminence,” I said, “is a little stouter, otherwise you look as fresh + as ever and not at all changed.” + </p> + <p> + “You make a mistake. I am very different from what I was then. I am + fifty-five now, and then I was thirty-six. Moreover, I am reduced to a + vegetable diet.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that to keep down the lusts of the flesh?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish people would think so; but no one does, I am afraid.” + </p> + <p> + He was glad to hear that I bore a letter to the Venetian ambassador, which + I had not yet presented. He said he would take care to give the ambassador + a prejudice in my favour, and that he would give me a good reception. + </p> + <p> + “We will begin to break the ice to-morrow,” added this charming cardinal. + “You shall dine with me, and his excellence shall hear of it.” + </p> + <p> + He heard with pleasure that I was well provided for as far as money was + concerned, and that I had made up my mind to live simply and discreetly so + long as I remained in Rome. + </p> + <p> + “I shall write about you to M—— M——,” he said. “I + have always kept up a correspondence with that delightful nun.” + </p> + <p> + I then amused him by the talk of my adventure with the nun of Chamberi. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to ask the Prince of Santa Croce to introduce you to the + princess. We might pass some pleasant hours with her, though not in our + old Venetian style, for the princess is not at all like M—— M——. + </p> + <p> + “And yet she serves to amuse your eminence?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have to be content with what I can get.” + </p> + <p> + The next day as I was getting up from dinner the cardinal told me that M. + Zuliani had written about me to the ambassador, who would be delighted to + make my acquaintance, and when I went I had an excellent reception from + him. + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier Erizzo, who is still alive, was a man of great intelligence, + common sense, and oratorical power. He complimented me on my travels and + on my being protected by the State Inquisitors instead of being persecuted + by them. He kept me to dinner, and asked me to dine with him whenever I + had no other engagement. + </p> + <p> + The same evening I met Prince Santa Croce at the duchess’s, and asked him + to introduce me to his wife. + </p> + <p> + “I have been expecting that,” he replied “even since the cardinal talked + to her about you for more than an hour. You can call any day at eleven in + the morning or two in the afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + I called the next day at two o’clock. She was taking her siesta in bed, + but as I had the privileges allowed to a person of no consequence she let + me in directly. She was young, pretty, lively, curious, and talkative; she + had not enough patience to wait for my answer to her questions. She struck + me as a toy, well adapted to amuse a man of affairs, who felt the need of + some distraction. The cardinal saw her regularly three times a day; the + first thing in the morning he called to ask if she had had a good night, + at three o’clock in the afternoon he took coffee with her, and in the + evening he met her at the assembly. He always played at piquet, and played + with such talent that he invariably lost six Roman sequins, no more and no + less. These losses of the cardinal’s made the princess the richest young + wife in Rome. + </p> + <p> + Although the marquis was somewhat inclined to be jealous, he could not + possibly object to his wife enjoying a revenue of eighteen hundred francs + a month, and that without the least scandal, for everything was done in + public, and the game was honestly conducted. Why should not fortune fall + in love with such a pretty woman? + </p> + <p> + The Prince of Santa Croce could not fail to appreciate the friendship of + the cardinal for his wife, who gave him a child every year, and sometimes + every nine months, in spite of the doctor’s warnings to beware of results. + It was said that to make up for his enforced abstinence during the last + few days of his wife’s pregnancy, the prince immediately set to again when + the child was being baptized. + </p> + <p> + The friendship of the cardinal for the prince’s wife also gave him the + advantage of getting silks from Lyons without the Pope’s treasurer being + able to say anything, as the packets were addressed to the French + ambassador. It must also be noted that the cardinal’s patronage kept other + lovers from the house. The High Constable Colonna was very much taken with + her. The prince had surprised this gentleman talking to the princess in a + room of the palace and at an hour when she was certain that the cardinal + would not be in the way. Scarcely had the Colonna gone when the prince + told his wife that she would accompany him into the country the next day. + She protested, saying that this sudden order was only a caprice and that + her honour would not allow of her obeying him. The prince, however, was + very determined, and she would have been obliged to go if the cardinal had + not come in and heard the story from the mouth of the innocent princess. + He shewed the husband that it was to his own interests to go into the + country by himself, and to let his wife remain in Rome. He spoke for her, + assuring the prince that she would take more care for the future and avoid + such meetings, always unpleasant in a house. + </p> + <p> + In less than a month I became the shadow of the three principal persons in + the play. I listened and admired and became as necessary to the personages + as a marker at billiards. When any of the parties were afflicted I + consoled them with tales or amusing comments, and, naturally, they were + grateful to me. The cardinal, the prince, and his fair wife amused each + other and offended no one. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess of Fiano was proud of being the possessor of the prince who + left his wife to the cardinal, but no one was deceived but herself. The + good lady wondered why no one acknowledged that the reason why the + princess never came to see her was mere jealousy. She spoke to me on the + subject with so much fire that I had to suppress my good sense to keep her + good graces. + </p> + <p> + I had to express my astonishment as to what the cardinal could see in the + princess, who, according to her, was skinny in person and silly in mind, + altogether a woman of no consequence. I agreed to all this, but I was far + from thinking so, for the princess was just the woman to amuse a + voluptuous and philosophic lover like the cardinal. + </p> + <p> + I could not help thinking now and again that the cardinal was happier in + the possession of this treasure of a woman than in his honours and + dignities. + </p> + <p> + I loved the princess, but as I did not hope for success I confined myself + strictly to the limits of my position. + </p> + <p> + I might, no doubt, have succeeded, but more probably I should have raised + her pride against me, and wounded the feelings of the cardinal, who was no + longer the same as when we shared M—— M—— in + common. He had told me that his affection for her was of a purely fatherly + character, and I took that as a hint not to trespass on his preserves. + </p> + <p> + I had reason to congratulate myself that she observed no more ceremony + with me than with her mail. I accordingly pretended to see nothing, while + she felt certain I saw all. + </p> + <p> + It is no easy matter to win the confidence of such a woman, especially if + she be served by a king or a cardinal. + </p> + <p> + My life at Rome was a tranquil and happy one. Margarita had contrived to + gain my interest by the assiduity of her attentions. I had no servant, so + she waited on me night and morning, and her false eye was such an + excellent match that I quite forgot its falsity. She was a clever, but a + vain girl, and though at first I had no designs upon her I flattered her + vanity by my conversation and the little presents I bestowed upon her, + which enabled her to cut a figure in church on Sundays. So before long I + had my eyes opened to two facts; the one that she was sure of my love, and + wondered why I did not declare it; the other, that if I chose I had an + easy conquest before me. + </p> + <p> + I guessed the latter circumstance one day when, after I had asked her to + tell me her adventures from the age of eleven to that of eighteen, she + proceeded to tell me tales, the telling of which necessitated her throwing + all modesty to the winds. + </p> + <p> + I took the utmost delight in these scandalous narrations, and whenever I + thought she had told the whole truth I gave her a few pieces of money; + while whenever I had reason to suppose that she had suppressed some + interesting circumstances I gave her nothing. + </p> + <p> + She confessed to me that she no longer possessed that which a maid can + lose but once, that a friend of hers named Buonacorsi was in the same + case, and finally she told me the name of the young man who had relieved + them both of their maidenheads. + </p> + <p> + We had for neighbor a young Piedmontese abbe named Ceruti, on whom + Margarita was obliged to wait when her mother was too busy. I jested with + her about him, but she swore there was no lovemaking between them. + </p> + <p> + This abbe was a fine man, learned and witty, but he was overwhelmed with + debt and in very bad odour at Rome on account of an extremely unpleasant + story of which he was the hero. + </p> + <p> + They said that he had told an Englishman, who was in love with Princess + Lanti, that she was in want of two hundred sequins, that the Englishman + had handed over the money to the abbe, and that the latter had + appropriated it. + </p> + <p> + This act of meanness had been brought to light by an explanation between + the lady and the Englishman. On his saying to the princess that he was + ready to do anything for her, and that the two hundred sequins he had + given her were as nothing in comparison with what he was ready to do, she + indignantly denied all knowledge of the transaction. Everything came out. + The Englishman begged pardon, and the abbe was excluded from the + princess’s house and the Englishman’s also. + </p> + <p> + This Abbe Ceruti was one of those journalists employed to write the weekly + news of Rome by Bianconi; he and I had in a manner become friends since we + were neighbours. I saw that he loved Margarita, and I was not in the least + jealous, but as he was a handsome young fellow I could not believe that + Margarita was cruel to him. Nevertheless, she assured me that she detested + him, and that she was very sorry that her mother made her wait on him at + all. + </p> + <p> + Ceruti had already laid himself under obligations to me. He had borrowed a + score of crowns from me, promising to repay them in a week, and three + weeks had gone by without my seeing the money. However, I did not ask for + it, and would have lent him as much more if he had requested me. But I + must tell the story as it happened. + </p> + <p> + Whenever I supped with the Duchess of Fiano I came in late, and Margarita + waited up for me. Her mother would go to bed. For the sake of amusement I + used to keep her for an hour or two without caring whether our + pleasantries disturbed the abbe, who could hear everything we said. + </p> + <p> + One evening I came home at midnight and was surprised to find the mother + waiting for me. + </p> + <p> + “Where is your daughter?” I enquired. + </p> + <p> + “She’s asleep, and I really cannot allow you to pass the whole night with + her any longer.” + </p> + <p> + “But she only stays with me till I get into bed. This new whim wounds my + feelings. I object to such unworthy suspicions. What has Margarita been + telling you? If she has made any complaints of me, she has lied, and I + shall leave your house to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong; Margarita has made no complaints; on the contrary she says + that you have done nothing to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. Do you think there is any harm in a little joking?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but you might be better employed.” + </p> + <p> + “And these are your grounds for a suspicion of which you should be + ashamed, if you are a good Christian.” + </p> + <p> + “God save me from thinking evil of my neighbour, but I have been informed + that your laughter and your jests are of such a nature as to be offensive + to people of morality.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is my neighbour the abbe who has been foolish enough to give you + this information?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot tell you how I heard it, but I have heard it.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. To-morrow I shall seek another lodging, so as to afford your + tender conscience some relief.” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t I attend on you as well as my daughter?” + </p> + <p> + “No; your daughter makes me laugh, and laughing is beneficial to me, + whereas you would not make me laugh at all. You have insulted me, and I + leave your house to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to tell my husband the reason of your departure, and I do + not want to do that.” + </p> + <p> + “You can do as you like; that’s no business of mine. Go away; I want to + get into bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Allow me to wait on you.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not; if you want anybody to wait on me, send Margarita.” + </p> + <p> + “She’s asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Then wake her up.” + </p> + <p> + The good woman went her way, and two minutes later, the girl came in with + little on but her chemise. She had not had time to put in her false eye, + and her expression was so amusing that I went off into a roar of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “I was sleeping soundly,” she began, “and my mother woke me up all of a + sudden, and told me to come and wait on you, or else you would leave, and + my father would think we had been in mischief.” + </p> + <p> + “I will stay, if you will continue to wait on me.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to come very much, but we mustn’t laugh any more, as the + abbe has complained of us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it is the abbe, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it is. Our jests and laughter irritate his passions.” + </p> + <p> + “The rascal! We will punish him rarely. If we laughed last night, we will + laugh ten times louder tonight.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon we began a thousand tricks, accompanied by shouts and shrieks of + laughter, purposely calculated to drive the little priest desperate. When + the fun was at its height, the door opened and the mother came in. + </p> + <p> + I had Margarita’s night-cap on my head, and Margarita’s face was adorned + with two huge moustaches, which I had stuck on with ink. Her mother had + probably anticipated taking us in the fact, but when she came in she was + obliged to re-echo our shouts of mirth. + </p> + <p> + “Come now,” said I, “do you think our amusements criminal?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit; but you see your innocent orgies keep your neighbour awake.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he had better go and sleep somewhere else; I am not going to put + myself out for him. I will even say that you must choose between him and + me; if I consent to stay with you, you must send him away, and I will take + his room.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t send him away before the end of the month, and I am afraid he + will say things to my husband which will disturb the peace of the house.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you he shall go to-morrow and say nothing at all. Leave him to + me; the abbe shall leave of his own free will, without giving you the + slightest trouble. In future be afraid for your daughter when she is alone + with a man and you don’t hear laughing. When one does not laugh, one does + something serious.” + </p> + <p> + After this the mother seemed satisfied and went off to bed. Margarita was + in such high spirits over the promised dismissal of the abbe that I could + not resist doing her justice. We passed an hour together without laughing, + and she left me very proud of the victory she had gained. + </p> + <p> + Early the next day I paid the abbe a visit, and after reproaching him for + his behaviour I gave him his choice between paying me the money he owed me + and leaving the house at once. He did his best to get out of the dilemma, + but seeing that I was pitiless he said he could not leave without paying a + few small sums he owed the landlord, and without the wherewithal to obtain + another lodging. + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said I, “I will present you with another twenty crowns; but + you must go to-day, and not say a word to anyone, unless you wish me to + become your implacable enemy.” + </p> + <p> + I thus got rid of him and entered into possession of the two rooms. + Margarita was always at my disposal, and after a few days so was the fair + Buonacorsi, who was much the prettier of the two. + </p> + <p> + The two girls introduced me to the young man who had seduced them. + </p> + <p> + He was a lad of fifteen or sixteen, and very handsome though short. Nature + had endowed him with an enormous symbol of virility, and at Lampsacus he + would no doubt have had an altar erected to him beside that of Priapus, + with which divinity he might well have contended. + </p> + <p> + He was well-mannered and agreeable, and seemed much above a common + workman. He did not love Margarita or Mdlle. Bounacorsi; he had merely + satisfied their curiosity. They saw and admired, and wished to come to a + nearer acquaintance; he read their minds and offered to satisfy them. + Thereupon the two girls held a consultation, and pretending to submit out + of mere complaisance; the double deed was done. I liked this young man, + and gave him linen and clothes. So before long he had complete confidence + in me. He told me he was in love with a girl, but unhappily for him she + was in a convent, and not being able to win her he was becoming desperate. + The chief obstacle to the match lay in the fact that his earnings only + amounted to a paolo a day, which was certainly an insufficient sum to + support a wife on. + </p> + <p> + He talked so much about her that I became curious, and expressed a desire + to see her. But before coming to this I must recite some other incidents + of my stay at Rome. + </p> + <p> + One day I went to the Capitol to see the prizes given to the art students, + and the first face I saw was the face of Mengs. He was with Battoni and + two or three other painters, all being occupied in adjudging the merits of + the various pictures. + </p> + <p> + I had not forgotten his treatment of me at Madrid, so I pretended not to + see him; but as soon as he saw me, he came up and addressed me as follows: + </p> + <p> + “My dear Casanova, let us forget what happened at Madrid and be friends + once more.” + </p> + <p> + “So be it, provided no allusion is made to the cause of our quarrel; for I + warn you that I cannot speak of it and keep my head cool.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say; but if you had understood my position at Madrid you would + never have obliged me to take a course which gave me great pain.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say not. You must know, then, that I was strongly suspected of + being a Protestant; and if I had shewn myself indifferent to your conduct, + I might possibly have been ruined. But dine with me tomorrow; we will make + up a party of friends, and discuss our quarrel in a good bottle of wine. I + know that you do not receive your brother, so he shall not be there. + Indeed, I do not receive him myself, for if I did all honest people would + give me the cold shoulder.” + </p> + <p> + I accepted his friendly invitation, and was punctual to the appointment. + </p> + <p> + My brother left Rome a short time afterwards with Prince Beloselski, the + Russian ambassador to Dresden, with whom he had come; but his visit was + unsuccessful, as Rezzonico proved inexorable. We only saw each other two + or three times at Rome. + </p> + <p> + Three or four days after he had gone I had the agreeable surprise of + seeing my brother the priest, in rags as usual. He had the impudence to + ask me to help him. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you come from?” + </p> + <p> + “From Venice; I had to leave the place, as I could no longer make a living + there.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how do you think of making a living at Rome?” + </p> + <p> + “By saying masses and teaching French.” + </p> + <p> + “You a teacher of languages! Why, you do not know your native tongue.” + </p> + <p> + “I know Italian and French too, and I have already got two pupils.” + </p> + <p> + “They will no doubt make wonderful progress under your fostering care. Who + are they?” + </p> + <p> + “The son and daughter of the inn-keeper, at whose house I am staying. But + that’s not enough to keep me, and you must give me something while I am + starting.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no right to count on me. Leave the room.” + </p> + <p> + I would not listen to another word, and told Margarita to see that he did + not come in again. + </p> + <p> + The wretched fellow did his best to ruin me with all my friends, including + the Duchess of Fiano and the Abbe Gama. Everybody told me that I should + either give him some help, or get him out of Rome; I got heartily sick of + the sound of his name. At last the Abbe Ceruti came and told me that if I + did not want to see my brother begging his bread in the streets I must + give him some assistance. + </p> + <p> + “You can keep him out of Rome,” he said, “and he is ready to go if you + will allow him three paoli a day.” I consented, and Ceruti hit on a plan + which pleased me very much. He spoke to a priest who served a convent of + Franciscan nuns. This priest took my brother into his service, and gave + him three paoli for saying one mass every day. If he could preach well he + might earn more. + </p> + <p> + Thus the Abbe Casanova passed away, and I did not care whether he knew or + not where the three paoli had come from. As long as I stayed at Rome the + nine piastres a month came in regularly, but after my departure he + returned to Rome, went to another convent, and died there suddenly + thirteen or fourteen years ago. + </p> + <p> + Medini had also arrived in Rome, but we had not seen each other. He lived + in the street of the Ursulines at the house of one of the Pope’s + light-cavalry men, and subsisted on the money he cheated strangers of. + </p> + <p> + The rascal had done well and had sent to Mantua for his mistress, who came + with her mother and a very pretty girl of twelve or thirteen. Thinking it + would be to his advantage to take handsome furnished apartments he moved + to the Place d’Espagne, and occupied a house four or five doors from me, + but I knew nothing of all this at the time. + </p> + <p> + Happening to dine one day with the Venetian ambassador, his excellency + told me that I should meet a certain Count Manucci who had just arrived + from Paris, and had evinced much delight on learning that I was at Rome. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know him well,” said the ambassador, “and as I am going to + present him to the Holy Father to-morrow, I should be much obliged if you + could tell me who he really is.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew him at Madrid, where he lived with Mocenigo our ambassador; he is + well mannered, polite, and a fine looking young man, and that’s all I know + about him.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he received at the Spanish Court?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, but I cannot be positive.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think he was not received; but I see that you won’t tell me all + you know about him. It’s of no consequence; I shall run no risk in + presenting him to the Pope. He says he is descended from Manucci, the + famous traveller of the thirteenth century, and from the celebrated + printers of the same name who did so much for literature. He shewed me the + Aldine anchor on his coat of arms which has sixteen quarters.” + </p> + <p> + I was astonished beyond measure that this man who had plotted my + assassination should speak of me as an intimate friend, and I determined + to conceal my feelings and await events. I did not shew the least sign of + anger, and when after greeting the ambassador he came up to me with open + arms, I received him cordially and asked after Mocenigo. + </p> + <p> + Manucci talked a great deal at dinner, telling a score of lies, all in my + honour, about my reception at Madrid. I believe his object was to force me + to lie too, and to make me do the same for him another time. + </p> + <p> + I swallowed all these bitter pills, for I had no choice in the matter, but + I made up my mind I would have a thorough explanation the next day. + </p> + <p> + A Frenchman, the Chevalier de Neuville by name, who had come with Manucci, + interested me a great deal. He had come to Rome to endeavour to obtain the + annulment of marriage of a lady who was in a convent at Mantua. He had a + special recommendation to Cardinal Galli. + </p> + <p> + His conversation was particularly agreeable, and when we left the + ambassador’s I accepted the offer to come into his carriage with Manucci, + and we drove about till the evening. + </p> + <p> + As we were returning at nightfall he told us that he was going to present + us to a pretty girl with whom we would sup and where we should have a game + of faro. + </p> + <p> + The carriage stopped at the Place d’Espagne, at a short distance from my + lodging, and we went up to a room on the second floor. When I went in I + was surprised to see Count Medini and his mistress, the lady whom the + chevalier had praised, and whom I found not at all to my taste. Medini + received me cordially, and thanked the Frenchman for having made me forget + the past, and having brought me to see him. + </p> + <p> + M. de Neuville looked astonished, and to avoid any unpleasant explanations + I turned the conversation. + </p> + <p> + When Medini thought a sufficient number of punters were present he sat + down at a large table, placed five or six hundred crowns in gold and notes + before him, and began to deal. Manucci lost all the gold he had about him, + Neuville swept away half the bank, and I was content with the humble part + of spectator. + </p> + <p> + After supper, Medini asked the chevalier to give him his revenge, and + Manucci asked me to lend him a hundred sequins. I did so, and in an hour + he had not one left. Neuville, on the other hand, brought down Medini’s + bank to twenty or thirty sequins, and after that we retired to our several + homes. + </p> + <p> + Manucci lodged with my sister-in-law, Roland’s daughter, and I had made up + my mind to give him an early call; but he did not leave me the + opportunity, as he called on me early in the morning. + </p> + <p> + After returning me the hundred sequins he embraced me affectionately, and, + shewing me a large letter of credit on Bettoni, said that I must consider + his purse as mine. In short, though he said nothing about the past, he + gave me to understand that he wished to initiate a mutual policy of forget + and forgive. + </p> + <p> + On this occasion my heart proved too strong for my brain; such has often + been the case with me. I agreed to the articles of peace he offered and + required. + </p> + <p> + Besides, I was no longer at that headstrong age which only knows one kind + of satisfaction, that of the sword. I remembered that if Manucci had been + wrong so had I, and I felt that my honour ran no danger of being + compromised. + </p> + <p> + The day after, I went to dinner with him. The Chevalier de Neuville came + in towards the close of the meal, and Medini a few moments later. The + latter called on us to hold a bank, each in his turn, and we agreed. + Manucci gained double what he had lost; Neuvilie lost four hundred + sequins, and I only lost a trifle. Medini who had only lost about fifty + sequins was desperate, and would have thrown himself out of the window. + </p> + <p> + A few days later Manucci set out for Naples, after giving a hundred louis + to Medini’s mistress, who used to sup with him; but this windfall did not + save Medini from being imprisoned for debt, his liabilities amounting to + more than a thousand crowns. + </p> + <p> + The poor wretch wrote me doleful epistles, entreating me to come to his + assistance; but the sole effect of his letters was to make me look after + what he called his family, repaying myself with the enjoyment of his + mistress’s young sister. I did not feel called upon to behave generously + to him for nothing. + </p> + <p> + About this time the Emperor of Germany came to Rome with his brother, the + Grand Duke of Tuscany. + </p> + <p> + One of the noblemen in their suite made the girl’s acquaintance, and gave + Medini enough to satisfy his creditors. He left Rome soon after recovering + his liberty, and we shall meet him again in a few months. + </p> + <p> + I lived very happily amongst the friends I had made for myself. In the + evenings I visited the Duchess of Fiano, in the afternoons the Princess of + Santa Croce. The rest of my time I spent at home, where I had Margarita, + the fair Buonacorsi, and young Menicuccio, who told me so much about his + lady-love that I felt quite curious to see her. + </p> + <p> + The girl was in a kind of convent where she had been placed out of + charity. She could only leave it to get married, with the consent of the + cardinal who superintended the establishment. When a girl went out and got + married, she received a dower of two hundred Roman crowns. + </p> + <p> + Menicuccio had a sister in the same convent, and was allowed to visit her + on Sundays; she came to the grating, followed by her governess. Though + Menicuccio was her brother, she was not permitted to see him alone. + </p> + <p> + Five or six months before the date of which I am writing his sister had + been accompanied to the grating by another girl, whom he had never seen + before, and he immediately fell in love with her. + </p> + <p> + The poor young man had to work hard all the week, and could only visit the + convent on holidays; and even then he had rarely the good luck to see his + lady-love. In five or six months he had only seen her seven or eight + times. + </p> + <p> + His sister knew of his love, and would have done all in her power for him, + but the choice of a companion did not rest with her, and she was afraid of + asking for this particular girl for fear of exciting suspicion. + </p> + <p> + As I have said, I had made up my mind to pay the place a visit, and on our + way Menicuccio told me that the women of the convent were not nuns, + properly speaking, as they had never taken any vow and did not wear a + monastic dress. In spite of that they had few temptations to leave their + prison house, as they would only find themselves alone in the world with + the prospect of starvation or hard work before them. The young girls only + came out to get married, which was uncommon, or by flight, which was + extremely difficult. + </p> + <p> + We reached a vast ill-built house, near one of the town gates—a + lonely and deserted situation, as the gate led to no highway. When we went + into the parlour I was astonished to see the double grating with bars so + thick and close together that the hand of a girl of ten could scarce have + got through. The grating was so close that it was extremely difficult to + make out the features of the persons standing on the inner side, + especially as this was only lighted by the uncertain reflection from the + outer room. The sight of these arrangements made me shudder. + </p> + <p> + “How and where have you seen your mistress?” I asked Menicuccio; “for + there I see nothing but darkness.” + </p> + <p> + “The first time the governess chanced to have a candle, but this privilege + is confined, under pain of excommunication, to relations.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she will have a light to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “I expect not, as the portress will have sent up word that there was a + stranger with me.” + </p> + <p> + “But how could you see your sweetheart, as you are not related to her?” + </p> + <p> + “By chance; the first time she came my sister’s governess—a good + soul—said nothing about it. Ever since there has been no candle when + she has been present.” Soon after, the forms of three or four women were + dimly to be seen; but there was no candle, and the governess would not + bring one on any consideration. She was afraid of being found out and + excommunicated. + </p> + <p> + I saw that I was depriving my young friend of a pleasure, and would have + gone, but he told me to stay. I passed an hour which interested me in + spite of its painfulness. The voice of Menicuccio’s sister sent a thrill + through me, and I fancied that the blind must fall in love through their + sense of hearing. The governess was a woman under thirty. She told me that + when the girls attained their twenty-fifth year they were placed in charge + of the younger ones, and at thirty-five they were free to leave the + convent if they liked, but that few cared to take this step, for fear of + falling into misery. + </p> + <p> + “Then there are a good many old women here?” + </p> + <p> + “There are a hundred of us, and the number is only decreased by death and + by occasional marriages.” + </p> + <p> + “But how do those who go out to get married succeed in inspiring the love + of their husbands?” + </p> + <p> + “I have been here for twenty years, and in that time only four have gone + out, and they did not know their husbands till they met at the altar. As + might be expected, the men who solicit the cardinal for our hands are + either madmen, or fellows of desperate fortunes who want the two hundred + piastres. However, the cardinal-superintendent refuses permission unless + the postulant can satisfy him that he is capable of supporting a wife.” + </p> + <p> + “How does he choose his bride?” + </p> + <p> + “He tells the cardinal what age and disposition he would prefer, and the + cardinal informs the mother-superior.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you keep a good table, and are comfortably lodged.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. Three thousand crowns a year are not much to keep a hundred + persons. Those who do a little work and earn something are the best off.” + </p> + <p> + “What manner of people put their daughters in such a prison?” + </p> + <p> + “Either poor people or bigots who are afraid of their children falling + into evil ways. We only receive pretty girls here.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the judge of their prettiness?” + </p> + <p> + “The parents, the priest, and on the last appeal the + cardinal-superintendent, who rejects plain girls without pity, observing + that ugly women have no reason to fear the seductions of vice. So you may + imagine that, wretched as we are, we curse those who pronounced us + pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “I pity you, and I wonder why leave is not given to see you openly; you + might have some chance of getting married then.” + </p> + <p> + “The cardinal says that it is not in his power to give permission, as + anyone transgressing the foundation is excommunicated.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I should imagine that the founder of this house is now consumed by + the flames of hell.” + </p> + <p> + “We all think so, and hope he may stay there. The Pope ought to take some + order with the house.” + </p> + <p> + I gave her ten crowns, saying that as I could not see her I could not + promise a second visit, and then I went away with Menicuccio, who was + angry with himself for having procured me such a tedious hour. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I shall never see your mistress or your sister,” said I; “your + sister’s voice went to my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think your ten paistres ought to work miracles.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose there is another parlour.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but only priests are allowed to enter it under pain of + excommunication, unless you get leave from the Holy Father.” + </p> + <p> + I could not imagine how such a monstrous establishment could be tolerated, + for it was almost impossible, under the circumstances, for the poor girls + to get a husband. I calculated that as two hundred piastres were assigned + to each as a dowry in case of marriage, the founder must have calculated + on two marriages a year at least, and it seemed probable that these sums + were made away with by some scoundrel. + </p> + <p> + I laid my ideas before Cardinal Bernis in the presence of the princess, + who seemed moved with compassion for these poor women, and said I must + write out a petition and get it signed by all of them, entreating the Holy + Father to allow them the privileges customary in all other convents. + </p> + <p> + The cardinal told me to draft the supplication, to obtain the signatures, + and to place it in the hands of the princess. In the meantime he would get + the ear of the Holy Father, and ascertain by whose hands it was most + proper for the petition to be presented. + </p> + <p> + I felt pretty sure of the signatures of the greater number of the + recluses, and after writing out the petition I left it in the hands of the + governess to whom I had spoken before. She was delighted with the idea, + and promised to give me back the paper when I came again, with the + signatures of all her companions in misfortune. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the Princess Santa Croce had the document she addressed herself + to the Cardinal-Superintendent Orsini, who promised to bring the matter + before the Pope. Cardinal Bernis had already spoken to His Holiness. + </p> + <p> + The chaplain of the institute was ordered to warn the superior that for + the future visitors were to be allowed to see girls in the large parlour, + provided they were accompanied by a governess. + </p> + <p> + Menicuccio brought me this news, which the princess had not heard, and + which she was delighted to hear from my lips. + </p> + <p> + The worthy Pope did not stop there. He ordered a rigid scrutiny of the + accounts to be made, and reduced the number from a hundred to fifty, + doubling the dower. He also ordered that all girls who reached the age of + twenty-five without getting married should be sent away with their four + hundred crowns apiece; that twelve discreet matrons should have charge of + the younger girls, and that twelve servants should be paid to do the hard + work of the house. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0016" id="linkF2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I Sup at the Inn With Armelline and Emilie +</pre> + <a name="linkFimage-0006" id="linkFimage-0006"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/6c16.jpg" width="100%" alt="Chapter 16 " /> + </div> + <p> + These innovations were the work of some six months. The first reform was + the abolition of the prohibition on entering the large parlour and even + the interior of the convent; for as the inmates had taken no vows and were + not cloistered nuns, the superior should have been at liberty to act + according to her discretion. Menicuccio had learnt this from a note his + sister wrote him, and which he brought to me in high glee, asking me to + come with him to the convent, according to his sister’s request, who said + my presence would be acceptable to her governess. I was to ask for the + governess. + </p> + <p> + I was only too glad to lend myself to this pleasant arrangement, and felt + curious to see the faces of the three recluses, as well as to hear what + they had to say on these great changes. + </p> + <p> + When we got into the large parlour I saw two grates, one occupied by the + Abbe Guasco, whom I had known in Paris in 1751, the other by a Russian + nobleman, Ivan Ivanovitch Schuvaloff, and by Father Jacquier, a friar + minim of the Trinita dei Monti, and a learned astronomer. Behind the grate + I saw three very pretty girls. + </p> + <p> + When our friends came down we began a very interesting conversation, which + had to be conducted in a low tone for fear of our being overheard. We + could not talk at our ease till the other visitors had taken their leave. + My young friend’s mistress was a very pretty girl, but his sister was a + ravishing beauty. She had just entered on her sixteenth year, but she was + tall and her figure well developed; in short, she enchanted me. I thought + I had never seen a whiter skin or blacker hair and eyebrows and eyes, but + still more charming was the sweetness of her voice and expression, and the + naive simplicity of her expressions. Her governess who was ten or twelve + years older than she was, was a woman of an extremely interesting + expression; she was pale and melancholy looking, no doubt from the fires + which she had been forced to quench within her. She delighted me by + telling me of the confusion which the new regulations had caused in the + house. + </p> + <p> + “The mother-superior is well pleased,” she said, “and all my young + companions are overjoyed; but the older ones whom circumstance has made + into bigots are scandalized at everything. The superior has already given + orders for windows to be made in the dark parlours, though the old women + say that she cannot go beyond the concessions she has already received. To + this the superior answered that as free communication had been allowed, it + would be absurd to retain the darkness. She has also given orders for the + alteration of the double grating, as there was only a single one in the + large parlour.” + </p> + <p> + I thought the superior must be a woman of intelligence, and expressed a + desire to see her. Emilie obtained this pleasure for me the following day. + </p> + <p> + Emilie was the friend of Armelline, Menicuccio’s sister. This first visit + lasted two hours, and seemed all too short. Menicuccio spoke to his + well-beloved at the other grating. + </p> + <p> + I went away, after having given them ten Roman crowns as before. I kissed + Armelline’s fair hands, and as she felt the contact of my lips her face + was suffused by a vivid blush. Never had the lips of man touched more + dainty hands before, and she looked quite astounded at the ardour with + which I kissed them. + </p> + <p> + I went home full of love for her, and without heeding the obstacles in my + path I gave reins to my passion, which seemed to me the most ardent I had + ever experienced. + </p> + <p> + My young friend was in an ocean of bliss. He had declared his love, and + the girl had said that she would gladly become his wife if he could get + the cardinal’s consent. As this consent only depended on his ability to + keep himself, I promised to give him a hundred crowns and my patronage. He + had served his time as a tailor’s apprentice, and was in a position to + open a shop of his own. + </p> + <p> + “I envy your lot,” said I, “for your happiness is assured, while I, though + I love your sister, despair of possessing her.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you married then?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Alas, yes! Keep my counsel, for I propose visiting her every day, and if + it were known that I was married, my visits would be received with + suspicion.” + </p> + <p> + I was obliged to tell this lie to avoid the temptation of marrying her, + and to prevent Armelline thinking that I was courting her with that + intention. + </p> + <p> + I found the superioress a polite and clever woman, wholly free from + prejudices. After coming down to the grate to oblige me, she sometimes + came for her own pleasure. She knew that I was the author of the happy + reform in the institution, and she told me that she considered herself + under great obligations to me. In less than six weeks three of her girls + made excellent marriages, and six hundred crowns had been added to the + yearly income of the house. + </p> + <p> + She told me that she was ill pleased with one of their confessors. He was + a Dominican, and made it a rule that his penitents should approach the + holy table every Sunday and feast day; he kept them for hours in the + confessional, and imposed penances and fastings which were likely to + injure the health of young girls. + </p> + <p> + “All this,” said she, “cannot improve them from a mortal point of view, + and takes up a lot of their time, so that they have none left for their + work, by the sale of which they procure some small comforts for + themselves. + </p> + <p> + “How many confessors have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Four.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you satisfied with the other three?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they are sensible men, and do not ask too much of poor human + nature.” + </p> + <p> + “I will carry your just complaint to the cardinal; will you write out your + petition?” + </p> + <p> + “Kindly give me a model.” + </p> + <p> + I gave her a rough draft, which she copied out and signed, and I laid it + before his eminence. A few days after the Dominican was removed, and his + penitents divided amongst the three remaining confessors. The younger + members of the community owed me a great debt of gratitude on account of + this change. + </p> + <p> + Menicuccio went to see his sweetheart every holiday, while I, in my + amorous ardour, visited his sister every morning at nine o’clock. I + breakfasted with her and Emilie, and remained in the parlour till eleven. + As there was only one grating I could lock the door behind me, but we + could be seen from the interior of the convent, as the door was left open + to admit light, there being no window. This was a great annoyance for me; + recluses, young or old, were continually passing by, and none of them + failed to give a glance in the direction of the grate; thus my fair + Armelline could not stretch out her hand to receive my amorous kisses. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of December the cold became intense, and I begged the + superior to allow me to place a screen in front of the door, as I feared I + should catch cold otherwise. The worthy woman granted my request without + any difficulty, and we were at our ease for the future, though the desires + with which Armelline inspired me had become dreadful torment. + </p> + <p> + On the 1st day of January, 1771, I presented each of them with a good + winter dress, and sent the superior a quantity of chocolate, sugar, and + coffee, all of which were extremely welcome. + </p> + <p> + Emilie often came by herself to the grating, as Armelline was not ready, + and in the same way Armelline would come by herself when her governess + happened to be busy. It was in these quarters of an hour that she + succeeded in captivating me, heart and soul. + </p> + <p> + Emilie and Armelline were great friends, but their prejudices on the + subject of sensual enjoyment were so strong that I could never get them to + listen to licentious talk, to allow certain small liberties which I would + gladly have taken, or to afford me those pleasures of the eyes that we + accept in default of better things. + </p> + <p> + One day they were petrified by my asking them whether they did not + sometimes sleep in the same bed, so as to give each other proofs of the + tenderness of their mutual affection. + </p> + <p> + How they blushed Emilie asked me with the most perfect innocence what + there was in common between affection and the inconvenience of sleeping + two in a narrow bed. + </p> + <p> + I took care not to explain myself, for I saw that I had frightened them. + No doubt they were of the same flesh and blood as I, but our educators had + differed widely. They had evidently never confided their little secrets to + one another, possibly not even to their confessor, either through shame, + or with the idea that the liberties they indulged in alone were no sin. + </p> + <p> + I made them a present of some silk stockings, lined with plush to keep out + the cold, and vainly endeavoured to make them try the stockings on before + me. I might say as often as I pleased that there was no real difference + between a man’s legs and a woman’s, and that their confessor would laugh + at them if they confessed to shewing their legs. They only answered that + girls were not allowed to take such a liberty, as they wore petticoats on + purpose to conceal their legs. + </p> + <p> + The manner in which Emilie spoke, always with Armelline’s approbation, + convinced me that their modesty was genuine. I penetrated her idea; she + thought that in acceding to my request she would be lowering herself in my + eyes, and that I should despise her ever after. Nevertheless Emilie was a + woman of twenty-seven, and by no means a devotee. + </p> + <p> + As for Armelline, I could see that she took Emilie for her model, and + would have been ashamed of appearing less precise than her friend. I + thought she loved me, and that, contrary to the general rule, she would be + more easily won by herself than in company with her friend. + </p> + <p> + I made the trial one morning when she appeared at the grating by herself, + telling me that her governess was busy. I said that I adored her and was + the most hapless of men, for being a married man I had no hope of ever + being able to clasp her to my arms and cover her with kisses. + </p> + <p> + “Can I continue to live, dear Armelline, with no other consolation than + that of kissing your fair hands?” + </p> + <p> + At these words, pronounced with so much passion, she fixed her gaze on me, + and after a few moments’ reflection she began to kiss my hands as ardently + as I had kissed hers. + </p> + <p> + I begged her to put her mouth so that I might kiss it. She blushed and + looked down, and did nothing. I bewailed my fate bitterly, but in vain. + She was deaf and dumb till Emilie came and asked us why we were so dull. + </p> + <p> + About this time, the beginning of 1771, I was visited by Mariuccia, whom I + had married ten years before to a young hairdresser. My readers may + remember how I met her at Abbe Momolo’s. During the three months I had + been in Rome I had enquired in vain as to what had become of her; so that + I was delighted when she made her appearance. + </p> + <p> + “I saw you at St. Peter’s,” said she, “at the midnight mass on Christmas + Eve, but not daring to approach you because of the people with whom I was, + I told a friend of mine to follow you and find out where you lived.” + </p> + <p> + “How is it that I have tried to find you out in vain for the last three + months?” + </p> + <p> + “My husband set up at Frascati eight years ago, and we have lived there + very happily ever since.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad to hear it. Have you any children?” + </p> + <p> + “Four; and the eldest, who is nine years old, is very like you.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you love her?” + </p> + <p> + “I adore her, but I love the other three as well.” + </p> + <p> + As I wanted to go to breakfast with Armelline I begged Margarita to keep + Mariuccia company till my return. + </p> + <p> + Mariuccia dined with me, and we spent a pleasant day together without + attempting to renew our more tender relationship. We had plenty to talk + about, and she told me that Costa, my old servant, had come back to Rome + in a splendid coach, three years after I had left, and that he had married + one of Momolo’s daughters. + </p> + <p> + “He’s a rascal; he robbed me.” + </p> + <p> + “I guessed as much; his theft did him no good. He left his wife two years + after their marriage, and no one knows what has become of him.” + </p> + <p> + “How about his wife?” + </p> + <p> + “She is living miserably in Rome. Her father is dead.” + </p> + <p> + I did not care to go and see the poor woman, for I could not do anything + for her, and I could not have helped saying that if I caught her husband I + would do my best to have him hanged. Such was indeed my intention up to + the year 1785, when I found this runagate at Vienna. He was then Count + Erdich’s man, and when we come to that period the reader shall hear what I + did. + </p> + <p> + I promised Mariuccia to come and see her in the course of Lent. + </p> + <p> + The Princess Santa Croce and the worthy Cardinal Bernis pitied me for my + hapless love; I often confided my sufferings to their sympathizing ears. + </p> + <p> + The cardinal told the princess that she could very well obtain permission + from Cardinal Orsini to take Armelline to the theatre, and that if I cared + to join the party I might find her less cruel. + </p> + <p> + “The cardinal will make no objection,” said he, “as Armelline has taken no + vows; but as you must know our friend’s mistress before making your + request, you have only to tell the cardinal that you would like to see the + interior of the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he will give me leave?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; the inmates are not cloistered nuns. We will go with you.” + </p> + <p> + “You will come too? that will be a delightful party indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ask for leave, and we will arrange the day.” + </p> + <p> + This plan seemed to me a delicious dream. I guessed that the gallant + cardinal was curious to see Armelline, but I was not afraid as I knew he + was a constant lover. Besides I felt sure that if he took an interest in + the fair recluse he would be certain to find her a husband. + </p> + <p> + In three or four days the princess summoned me to her box in the Alberti + Theatre, and shewed me Cardinal Orsini’s note, allowing her and her + friends to see the interior of the house. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow afternoon,” said she, “we will fix the day and the hour for the + visit.” + </p> + <p> + Next day I paid my usual visit to the recluses, and the superioress came + to tell me that the cardinal had told her that the Princess Santa Croce + was coming to visit the house with some friends. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said I; “I am coming with her.” + </p> + <p> + “When is she coming?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know yet, but I will inform you later on.” + </p> + <p> + “This novelty has turned the house upside down. The devotees scarcely know + whether they are awake or dreaming, for with the exception of a few + priests, the doctor, and the surgeon, no one has ever entered the house + since its foundation.” + </p> + <p> + “All these restrictions are now removed, and you need not ask the + cardinal’s permission to receive visits from your friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, but I don’t like to go so far.” + </p> + <p> + The time for the visit was fixed for the afternoon of the next day, and I + let the superioress know early the next morning. The Duchess of Fiano had + asked to join us; the cardinal came, of course, dressed as a simple + priest, with no indication of his exalted rank. He knew Armelline directly + from my description, and congratulated her on having made my acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + The poor girl blushed to the roots of her hair; and I thought she would + have fainted when the princess, after telling her she was the prettiest + girl in the house, gave her two affectionate kisses, a mark of friendship + strictly forbidden by the rules. + </p> + <p> + After these caresses, the princess proceeded to compliment the + superioress. She said that I had done well to praise her parts, as she + could judge of them by the order and neatness which reigned everywhere. + </p> + <p> + “I shall mention your name to Cardinal Orsini,” she added, “and you may be + sure I shall do you all the justice you deserve.” + </p> + <p> + When we had seen all the rooms, which contained nothing worth seeing, I + presented Emilie to the princess, who received her with great cordiality. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard of your sadness,” she said, “but I know the reason of it. + You are a good girl, and pretty too, and I shall get you a husband who + will cure you of your melancholy.” + </p> + <p> + The superioress gave a smile of approbation, but I saw a dozen aged + devotees pulling wry faces. + </p> + <p> + Emilie dared not reply, but she took the princess’s hand and kissed it, as + if to summon her to keep her promise. + </p> + <p> + As for me, I was delighted to see that though all the girls were really + pretty, my Armelline eclipsed them all, as the light of the sun obscures + the stars. + </p> + <p> + When we came down to the parlour, the princess told Armelline that she + meant to ask leave of the cardinal to take her two or three times to the + theatre before Lent began. This observation seemed to petrify everyone + except the superioress, who said that his eminence had now a perfect right + to relax any or all of the rules of the establishment. + </p> + <p> + Poor Armelline was so overwhelmed between joy and confusion that she could + not speak. She seemed unable to find words wherein to thank the princess, + who commended her and her friend Emilie to the superioress before she left + the house, and gave her a small present to buy necessaries for them. + </p> + <p> + Not to be outdone, the Duchess of Fiano told the superioress that she + would make me the almoner of her bounty towards Armelline and Emilie. My + expressions of gratitude to the princess when we were back in the carriage + may be imagined. + </p> + <p> + I had no need to excuse Armelline, for the princess and the cardinal had + gauged her capacities. Her confusion had prevented her shewing her + cleverness, but her face shewed her to possess it. Besides, the influence + of the education she had received had to be taken into account. The + princess was impatient to take her to the theatre, and afterwards to + supper at an inn, according to the Roman custom. + </p> + <p> + She wrote the names of Armelline and Emilie upon her tablets, so as to + remember them on every occasion. + </p> + <p> + I did not forget the mistress of my poor friend Menicuccio, but the time + was not opportune for mentioning her name. The next day, however, I got + the cardinal’s ear, and told him that I was anxious to do something for + the young man. The cardinal saw him, and Menicuccio pleased him so well + that the marriage took place before the end of the carnival, the bride + having a dowry of five hundred crowns. With this sum and the hundred + crowns I gave him, he was in a position to open a shop for himself. + </p> + <p> + The day after the princess’s visit was a triumphant one for me. As soon as + I appeared at the grating the superioress was sent for, and we had an + interview. + </p> + <p> + The princess had given her fifty crowns, which she was going to lay out on + linen for Armelline and Emilie. + </p> + <p> + The recluses were stupefied when I told them that the fat priest was + Cardinal Bernis, as they had an idea that a cardinal can never doff the + purple. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess of Fiano had sent a cask of wine, which was an unknown + beverage there, and these presents made them hope for others. I was looked + upon as the bringer of all this good luck, and gratitude shewed itself so + plainly in every word and glance that I felt I might hope for everything. + </p> + <p> + A few days later, the princess told Cardinal Orsini that she had taken a + peculiar interest in two of the young recluses, and desiring to provide + them with suitable establishments she wished to take them now and again to + the theatre so as to give them some knowledge of the world. She undertook + to take them and bring them back herself or only to confide them to sure + hands. The cardinal replied that the superioress should receive + instructions to oblige her in every particular. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I heard of this from the princess, I said that I would + ascertain what orders had been actually received at the convent. + </p> + <p> + The next day the superioress told me that his eminence had instructed her + to do what she thought best for the welfare of the young people committed + to her charge. + </p> + <p> + “I have also received orders,” she added, “to send in the names of those + who have attained the age of thirty, and wish to leave the convent, that + they may receive a warrant for their two hundred crowns. I have not yet + published this command, but I haven’t the slightest doubt that we shall + get rid of a score at least.” + </p> + <p> + I told the princess of the cardinal’s orders, and she agreed with me that + his behaviour was most generous. + </p> + <p> + Cardinal Bernis, who was by, advised her that the first time she took the + girls to the theatre she had better go in person, and tell the superioress + that she would always send her carriage and liveried servants to fetch + them. + </p> + <p> + The princess approved of this advice, and a few days later she called for + Emilie and Armelline, and brought them to her palace, where I awaited them + with the cardinal, the prince, and the Duchess of Fiano. + </p> + <p> + They were welcomed warmly, encouraged to reply, to laugh, and to say what + was in their minds, but all in vain; finding themselves for the first time + in a splendid apartment surrounded by brilliant company, they were so + confounded that they could not say a word. Emilie persisted in rising from + her seat whenever she was addressed, and Armelline shone only by her + beauty and the vivid blush which suffused her face whenever she was + addressed. The princess might kiss her as much as she pleased, but the + novice had not the courage to return her kisses. + </p> + <p> + At last Armelline mustered up courage to take the princess’s hand and kiss + it, but when the lady kissed her on the lips the girl remained inactive, + seeming to be absolutely ignorant of such a natural and easy matter as the + returning of a kiss. + </p> + <p> + The cardinal and the prince laughed; the duchess said that so much + restraint was unnatural. As for me I was on thorns, such awkwardness + seemed to me near akin to stupidity, for Armelline had only to do to the + princess’s lips what she had already done to her hand. No doubt she + fancied that to do to the princess what the princess had done to her would + shew too much familiarity. + </p> + <p> + The cardinal took me on one side and said he could not believe that I had + not initiated her in the course of two months’ intimacy, but I pointed out + to him the immense force of long engrained prejudice. + </p> + <p> + Far this first tine the princess had made up her mind to take them to the + Torre di Nonna Theatre, as comic pieces were played there, and they could + not help but laugh. + </p> + <p> + After the play we went to sup at an inn, and at table the good cheer and + my exhortations began to take some effect on her. We persuaded them to + drink a little wine, and their spirits improved visibly. Emilie ceased to + be sad, and Armelline gave the princess some real kisses. We applauded + their efforts to be gay and our applause convinced them that they had done + nothing wrong. + </p> + <p> + Of course the princess charged me with the pleasant trust of taking the + two guests back to the convent. Now, I thought, my time has come; but when + we were in the carriage I saw that I had reckoned without my host. When I + would have kissed, heads were turned aside; when I would have stretched + forth an indiscreet hand, dresses were wrapped more tightly; when I would + have forced my way, I was resisted by force; when I complained, I was told + that I was in the wrong; when I got in a rage, I was allowed to say on; + and when I threatened to see them no more, they did not believe me. + </p> + <p> + When we got to the convent a servant opened the side door, and noticing + that she did not shut it after the girls, I went in too, and went with + them to see the superioress, who was in bed, and did not seem at all + astonished to see me. I told her that I considered it my duty to bring + back her young charges in person. She thanked me, asked them if they had + had a pleasant evening, and bade me good night, begging me to make as + little noise as possible on my way downstairs. + </p> + <p> + I wished them all happy slumbers, and after giving a sequin to the servant + who opened the door, and another to the coachman, I had myself set down at + the door of my lodging. Margarita was asleep on a sofa and welcomed me + with abuse, but she soon found out by the ardour of my caresses that I had + not been guilty of infidelity. + </p> + <p> + I did not get up till noon, and at three o’clock I called on the princess + and found the cardinal already there. + </p> + <p> + They expected to hear the story of my triumph, but the tale I told and my + apparent indifference in the matter came as a surprise. + </p> + <p> + I may as well confess that my face was by no means the index of my mind. + However, I did my best to give the thing a comic turn, saying that I did + not care for Pamelas, and that I had made up my mind to give up the + adventure. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” said the cardinal, “I shall take two or three days + before I congratulate you on your self-restraint.” + </p> + <p> + His knowledge of the human heart was very extensive. + </p> + <p> + Armelline thought I must have slept till late as she did not see me in the + morning as usual; but when the second day went by without my coming she + sent her brother to ask if I were ill, for I had never let two days pass + without paying her a visit. + </p> + <p> + Menicuccio came accordingly, and was delighted to find me in perfect + health. + </p> + <p> + “Go and tell your sister,” I said, “that I shall continue to interest the + princess on her behalf, but that I shall see her no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I wish to cure myself of an unhappy passion. Your sister does not + love me: I am sure of it. I am no longer a young man, and I don’t feel + inclined to become a martyr to her virtue. Virtue goes rather too far when + it prevents a girl giving the man who adores her a single kiss.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I would not have believed that of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless it is the fact, and I must make an end of it. Your sister + cannot understand the danger she runs in treating a lover in this fashion. + Tell her all that, my dear Menicuccio, but don’t give her any advice of + your own.” + </p> + <p> + “You can’t think how grieved I am to hear all this; perhaps it’s Emilie’s + presence that makes her so cold.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I have often pressed her when we have been alone together, but all in + vain. I want to cure myself, for if she does not love me I do not wish to + obtain her either by seduction or by any feeling of gratitude on her part. + Tell me how your future bride treats you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, ever since she has been sure of my marrying her.” + </p> + <p> + I felt sorry then that I had given myself out as a married man, for in my + state of irritation I could even have given her a promise of marriage + without deliberately intending to deceive her. + </p> + <p> + Menicuccio went on his way distressed, and I went to the meeting of the + “Arcadians,” at the Capitol, to hear the Marchioness d’Aout recite her + reception piece. This marchioness was a young Frenchwoman who had been at + Rome for the last six months with her husband, a man of many talents, but + inferior to her, for she was a genius. From this day I became her intimate + friend, but without the slightest idea of an intrigue, leaving all that to + a French priest who was hopelessly in love with her, and had thrown up his + chances of preferment for her sake. + </p> + <p> + Every day the Princess Santa Croce told me that I could have the key to + her box at the theatre whenever I liked to take Armelline and Emilie, but + when a week passed by without my giving any sign she began to believe that + I had really broken off the connection. + </p> + <p> + The cardinal, on the other hand, believed me to be still in love, and + praised my conduct. He told me that I should have a letter from the + superioress, and he was right; for at the end of the week she wrote me a + polite note begging me to call on her, which I was obliged to obey. + </p> + <p> + I called on her, and she began by asking me plainly why my visits had + ceased. + </p> + <p> + “Because I am in love with Armelline.” + </p> + <p> + “If that reason brought you here every day, I do not see how it can have + suddenly operated in another direction.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet it is all quite natural; for when one loves one desires, and when + one desires in vain one suffers, and continual suffering is great + unhappiness. And so you see that I am bound to act thus for my own sake.” + </p> + <p> + “I pity you, and see the wisdom of your course; but allow me to tell you + that, esteeming Armelline, you have no right to lay her open to a judgment + being passed upon her which is very far from the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “And what judgment is that?” + </p> + <p> + “That your love was only a whim, and that as soon as it was satisfied you + abandoned her.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry indeed to hear of this, but what can I do? I must cure myself + of this unhappy passion. Do you know any other remedy than absence? Kindly + advise me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know much about the affection called love, but it seems to me + that by slow degrees love becomes friendship, and peace is restored.” + </p> + <p> + “True, but if it is to become friendship, love must be gently treated. If + the beloved object is not very tender, love grows desperate and turns to + indifference or contempt. I neither wish to grow desperate nor to despise + Armelline, who is a miracle of beauty and goodness. I shall do my utmost + for her, just as if she had made me happy, but I will see her no more.” + </p> + <p> + “I am in complete darkness on the matter. They assure me that they have + never failed in their duty towards you, and that they cannot imagine why + you have ceased coming here.” + </p> + <p> + “Whether by prudence, or timidity, or a delicate wish not to say anything + against me, they have told you a lie; but you deserve to know all, and my + honour requires that I should tell you the whole story.” + </p> + <p> + “Please do so; you may count on my discretion.” + </p> + <p> + I then told my tale, and I saw she was moved. + </p> + <p> + “I have always tried,” she said, “never to believe evil except on + compulsion, nevertheless, knowing as I do the weakness of the human heart, + I could never have believed that throughout so long and intimate an + acquaintance you could have kept yourself so severely within bounds. In my + opinion there would be much less harm in a kiss than in all this scandal.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure that Armelline does not care about it.” + </p> + <p> + “She does nothing but weep.” + </p> + <p> + “Her tears probably spring from vanity, or from the cause her companions + assign for my absence.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have told them all that you are ill.” + </p> + <p> + “What does Emilie say?” + </p> + <p> + “She does not weep, but she looks sad, and says over and over again that + it is not her fault if you do not come, thereby hinting that it is + Armelline’s fault. Come tomorrow to oblige me. They are dying to see the + opera at the Aliberti, and the comic opera at the Capronica.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, then I will breakfast with them to-morrow morning, and + to-morrow evening they shall see the opera.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very good; I thank you. Shall I tell them the news?” + </p> + <p> + “Please tell Armelline that I am only coming after hearing all that you + have said to me.” + </p> + <p> + The princess skipped for joy when she heard of my interview with the + superioress, and the cardinal said he had guessed as much. The princess + gave me the key of her box, and ordered that her carriage and servants + should be at my orders. + </p> + <p> + The next day when I went to the convent Emilie came down by herself to + reproach me on my cruel conduct. She told me that a man who really loved + would not have acted in such a manner, and that I had been wrong to tell + the superioress everything. + </p> + <p> + “I would not have said anything if I had had anything important to say.” + </p> + <p> + “Armelline has become unhappy through knowing you.” + </p> + <p> + “Because she does not want to fail in her duty, and she sees that you only + love her to turn her from it.” + </p> + <p> + “But her unhappiness will cease when I cease troubling her.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean you are not going to see her any more?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. Do you think that it costs me no pain? But I must make the + effort for the sake of my peace of mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she will be sure that you do not love her.” + </p> + <p> + “She must think what she pleases. In the meanwhile I feel sure that if she + loved me as I loved her, we should be of one mind.” + </p> + <p> + “We have duties which seem to press lightly on you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then be faithful to your duties, and permit a man of honour to respect + them by visiting you no more.” + </p> + <p> + Armelline then appeared. I thought her changed. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you look so grave and pale?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you have grieved me.” + </p> + <p> + “Come then, be gay once more, and allow me to cure myself of a passion, + the essence of which is to induce you to fail in your duty. I shall be + still your friend, and I shall come to see you once a week while I remain + in Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Once a week! You needn’t have begun by coming once a day.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right; it was your kind expression which deceived me, but I hope + you will allow me to become rational again. For this to happen, I must try + not to see you more than I can help. Think over it, and you will see that + I am doing all for the best.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s very hard that you can’t love me as I love you.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean calmly, and without desires.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t say that; but holding your desires in check, if they are contrary + to the voice of duty.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m too old to learn this method, and it does not seem to me an + attractive one. Kindly tell me whether the restraint of your desires gives + you much pain?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t repress my desires when I think of you, I cherish them; I wish + you were the Pope, I wish you were my father, that I might caress you in + all innocence; in my dreams I wish you could become a girl, so that we + might always live happily together.” + </p> + <p> + At this true touch of native simplicity, I could not help smiling. + </p> + <p> + I told them that I should come in the evening to take them to the + Aliberti, and felt in a better humour after my visit, for I could see that + there was no art or coquetry in what Armelline said. I saw that she loved + me, but would not come to a parley with her love, hence her repugnance to + granting me her favours; if she once did so, her eyes would be opened. All + this was pure nature, for experience had not yet taught her that she ought + either to avoid me or to succumb to my affection. + </p> + <p> + In the evening I called for the two friends to take them to the opera, and + I had not long to wait. I was by myself in the carriage, but they evinced + no surprise. Emilie conveyed to me the compliments of the superioress, who + would be obliged by my calling on her the following day. At the opera I + let them gaze at the spectacle which they saw for the first time, and + answered whatever questions they put to me. As they were Romans, they + ought to have known what a castrato was, nevertheless, Armelline took the + wretched individual who sang the prima donna’s part for a woman, and + pointed to his breast, which was really a fine one. + </p> + <p> + “Would you dare to sleep in the same bed with him?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “No; an honest girl ought always to sleep by herself.” + </p> + <p> + Such was the severity of the education they had received. Everything + connected with love was made a mystery of, and treated with a kind of + superstitious awe. Thus Armelline had only let me kiss her hands after a + long contest, and neither she nor Emilie would allow me to see whether the + stockings I had given them fitted well or not. The severe prohibition that + was laid on sleeping with another girl must have made them think that to + shew their nakedness to a companion would be a great sin, and let a man + see their beauties a hideous crime. The very idea of such a thing must + have given them a shudder. + </p> + <p> + Whenever I had attempted to indulge in conversation which was a little + free, I had found them deaf and dumb. + </p> + <p> + Although Emilie was a handsome girl in spite of her pallor, I did not take + sufficient interest in her to try to dissipate her melancholy; but loving + Armelline to desperation I was cut to the quick to see her look grave when + I asked her if she had any idea of the difference between the physical + conformation of men and women. + </p> + <p> + As we were leaving Armelline said she was hungry, as she had scarcely + eaten anything for the last week on account of the grief I had given her. + </p> + <p> + “If I had foreseen that,” I answered, “I would have ordered a good supper, + whereas I have now only potluck to offer you.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. How many shall we be?” + </p> + <p> + “We three.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better; we shall be more at liberty.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t like the princess?” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, but she wants me to kiss her in a way I don’t like.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, you kissed her ardently enough.” + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid she would take me for a simpleton if I did not do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then do you think you committed a sin in kissing her like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, for it was very unpleasant for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why won’t you make the same effort on my behalf?” + </p> + <p> + She said nothing, and when we got to the inn I ordered them to light a + fire and to get a good supper ready. + </p> + <p> + The waiter asked me if I would like some oysters, and noticing the + curiosity of my guests on the subject I asked him how much they were. + </p> + <p> + “They are from the arsenal at Venice,” he replied, “and we can’t sell them + under fifty pains a hundred.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, I will take a hundred, but you must open them here.” + </p> + <p> + Armelline was horrified to think that I was going to pay five crowns for + her whim, and begged me to revoke the order; but she said nothing when I + told her that no pleasure of hers could be bought too dearly by me. + </p> + <p> + At this she took my hand and would have carried it to her lips, but I took + it away rather roughly, greatly to her mortification. + </p> + <p> + I was sitting in front of the fire between them, and I was sorry at having + grieved her. + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon, Armelline,” I said, “I only took my hand away because it + was not worthy of being carried to your fair lips.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of this excuse she could not help two big tears coursing down her + blushing cheeks. I was greatly pained. + </p> + <p> + Armelline was a tender dove, not made to be roughly treated. If I did not + want her to hate me I felt that I must either not see her at all or treat + her more gently for the future. + </p> + <p> + Her tears convinced me that I had wounded her feelings terribly, and I got + up and went out to order some champagne. + </p> + <p> + When I came back I found that she had been weeping bitterly. I did not + know what to do; I begged her again and again to forgive me, and to be gay + once more, unless she wished to subject me to the severest of all + punishments. + </p> + <p> + Emilie backed me up, and on taking her hand and covering it with kisses, I + had the pleasure of seeing her smile once more. + </p> + <p> + The oysters were opened in our presence, and the astonishment depicted on + the girls’ countenances would have amused me if my heart had been more at + ease. But I was desperate with love, and Armelline begged me vainly to be + as I was when we first met. + </p> + <p> + We sat down, and I taught my guests how to suck up the oysters, which swam + in their own liquid, and were very good. + </p> + <p> + Armelline swallowed half a dozen, and then observed to her friend that so + delicate a morsel must be a sin. + </p> + <p> + “Not on account of its delicacy,” said Emilie, “but because at every + mouthful we swallow half a paulo.” + </p> + <p> + “Half a paolo” said Armelline, “and the Holy Father does not forbid such a + luxury? If this is not the sin of gluttony, I don’t know what is. These + oysters are delightful; but I shall speak about the matter to my + director.” + </p> + <p> + These simplicities of hers afforded me great mental pleasure, but I wanted + bodily pleasure as well. + </p> + <p> + We ate fifty oysters, and drank two bottles of sparkling champagne, which + made my two guests eruct and blush and laugh at the same time. + </p> + <p> + I would fain have laughed too and devoured Armelline with my kisses, but I + could only devour her with by eyes. + </p> + <p> + I kept the remainder of the oysters for dessert, and ordered the supper to + be served. It was an excellent meal, and the two heroines enjoyed it; even + Emilie became quite lively. + </p> + <p> + I ordered up lemons and a bottle of rum, and after having the fifty + remaining oysters opened I sent the waiter away. I then made a bowl of + punch, pouring in a bottle of champagne as a finishing touch. + </p> + <p> + After they had swallowed a few oysters and drank one or two glasses of + punch, which they liked amazingly, I begged Emilie to give me an oyster + with her lips. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you are too sensible to find anything wrong in that,” I added. + </p> + <p> + Emilie was astonished at the proposition, and thought it over. Armelline + gazed at her anxiously, as if curious as to how she would answer me. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you ask Armelline?” she said at length. + </p> + <p> + “Do you give him one first,” said Armelline, “and if you have the courage + I will try to do the same.” + </p> + <p> + “What courage do you want? It’s a child’s game; there’s no harm in it.” + </p> + <p> + After this reply, I was sure of victory. I placed the shell on the edge of + her lips, and after a good deal of laughing she sucked in the oyster, + which she held between her lips. I instantly recovered it by placing my + lips on hers. + </p> + <p> + Armelline clapped her hands, telling Emilie that she would never have + thought her so brave; she then imitated her example, and was delighted + with my delicacy in sucking away the oyster, scarcely touching her lips + with mine. My agreeable surprise may be imagined when I heard her say that + it was my turn to hold the oysters. It is needless to say that I acquitted + myself of the duty with much delight. + </p> + <p> + After these pleasant interludes we went to drinking punch and swallowing + oysters. + </p> + <p> + We all sat in a row with our backs to the fire, and our brains began to + whirl, but never was there such a sweet intoxication. However, the punch + was not finished and we were getting very hot. I took off my coat, and + they were obliged to unlace their dresses, the bodices of which were lined + with fur. Guessing at necessities which they did not dare to mention, I + pointed out a closet where they could make themselves comfortable, and + they went in hand-in-hand. When they came out they were no longer timid + recluses, they were shrieking with laughter, and reeling from side to + side. + </p> + <p> + I was their screen as we sat in front of the fire, and I gazed freely on + charms which they could no longer conceal. I told them that we must not + think of going till the punch was finished, and they agreed, saying, in + high glee, that it would be a great sin to leave so good a thing behind. + </p> + <p> + I then presumed so far as to tell them that they had beautiful legs, and + that I should be puzzled to assign the prize between them. This made them + gayer than ever, for they had not noticed that their unlaced bodices and + short petticoats let me see almost everything. + </p> + <p> + After drinking our punch to the dregs, we remained talking for half an + hour, while I congratulated myself on my self-restraint. Just as we were + going I asked them if they had any grounds of complaint against me. + Armelline replied that if I would adopt her as my daughter she was ready + to follow me to the end of the world. “Then you are not afraid of my + turning you from the path of duty?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I feel quite safe with you.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do you say, dear Emilie?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall love you too, when you do for me what the superioress will tell + you to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do anything, but I shan’t come to speak to her till the evening, + for it is three o’clock now.” + </p> + <p> + They laughed all the louder, exclaiming,— + </p> + <p> + “What will the mother say?” + </p> + <p> + I paid the bill, gave something to the waiter, and took them back to the + convent, where the porteress seemed well enough pleased with the new rules + when she saw two sequins in her palm. + </p> + <p> + It was too late to see the superioress, so I drove home after rewarding + the coachman and the lackey. + </p> + <p> + Margarita was ready to scratch my eyes out if I could not prove my + fidelity, but I satisfied her by quenching on her the fires Armelline and + the punch had kindled. I told her I had been kept by a gaming party, and + she asked no more questions. + </p> + <p> + The next day I amused the princess and the cardinal by a circumstantial + account of what had happened. + </p> + <p> + “You missed your opportunity,” said the princess. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think so,” said the cardinal, “I believe, on the contrary, that + he has made his victory more sure for another time.” + </p> + <p> + In the evening, I went to the convent where the superioress gave me her + warmest welcome. She complimented me on having amused myself with the two + girls till three o’clock in the morning without doing anything wrong. They + had told her how we had eaten the oysters, and she said it was an amusing + idea. I admired her candour, simplicity, or philosophy, whichever you like + to call it. + </p> + <p> + After these preliminaries, she told me that I could make Emilie happy by + obtaining, through the influence of the princess, a dispensation to marry + without the publication of banns a merchant of Civita Vecchia, who would + have married her long ago only that there was a woman who pretended to + have claims upon him. If banns were published this woman would institute a + suit which might go on forever. + </p> + <p> + “If you do this,” she concluded, “you will have the merit of making Emilie + happy.” + </p> + <p> + I took down the man’s name, and promised to do my best with the princess. + </p> + <p> + “Are you still determined to cure yourself of your love for Armelline?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I shall not begin the cure till Lent.” + </p> + <p> + “I congratulate you; the carnival is unusually long this year.” + </p> + <p> + The next day I spoke of the matter to the princess. The first requisite + was a certificate from the Bishop of Civita Vecchia, stating that the man + was free to marry. The cardinal said that the man must come to Rome, and + that the affair could be managed if he could bring forward two good + witnesses who would swear that he was unmarried. + </p> + <p> + I told the superioress what the cardinal said, and she wrote to the + merchant, and a few days after I saw him talking to the superioress and + Emilie through the grating. + </p> + <p> + He commended himself to my protection, and said that before he married he + wanted to be sure of having six hundred crowns. + </p> + <p> + The convent would give him four hundred crowns, so we should have to + obtain a grant of two hundred more. + </p> + <p> + I succeeded in getting the grant, but I first contrived to have another + supper with Armelline, who asked me every morning when I was going to take + her to the comic opera. I said I was afraid of turning her astray from the + path of duty, but she replied that experience had taught her to dread me + no longer. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0017" id="linkF2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Florentine—Marriage of Emilie—Scholastica—Armelline + at the Ball +</pre> + <p> + Before the supper I had loved Armelline to such an extent that I had + determined to see her no more, but after it I felt that I must obtain her + or die. I saw that she had only consented to my small liberties because + she regarded them as mere jokes, of no account, and I resolved to take + advantage of this way of looking at it to go as far as I could. I began to + play the part of indifferent to the best of my ability, only visiting her + every other day, and looking at her with an expression of polite interest. + I often pretended to forget to kiss her hand, while I kissed Emilie’s and + told her that if I felt certain of receiving positive marks of her + affection I should stay at Civita Vecchia for some weeks after she was + married. I would not see Armelline’s horror, who could not bear me to take + a fancy to Emilie. + </p> + <p> + Emilie said that she would be more at liberty when she was married, while + Armelline, vexed at her giving me any hopes, told her sharply that a + married woman had stricter duties to perform than a girl. + </p> + <p> + I agreed with her in my heart, but as it would not have suited my purpose + to say so openly I insinuated the false doctrine that a married woman’s + chief duty is to keep her husband’s descent intact, and that everything + else is of trifling importance. + </p> + <p> + With the idea of driving Emilie to an extremity I told Emilie that if she + wanted me to exert myself to my utmost for her she must give me good hopes + of obtaining her favours not only after but before marriage. + </p> + <p> + “I will give you no other favours.” she replied, “than those which + Armelline may give you. You ought to try to get her married also.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of her grief at these proposals, gentle Armelline replied,—— + </p> + <p> + “You are the only man I have ever seen; and as I have no hopes of getting + married I will give you no pledges at all, though I do not know what you + mean by the word.” + </p> + <p> + Though I saw how pure and angelic she was, I had the cruelty to go away, + leaving her to her distress. + </p> + <p> + It was hard for me to torment her thus, but I thought it was the only way + to overcome her prejudices. + </p> + <p> + Calling on the Venetian ambassador’s steward I saw some peculiarly fine + oysters, and I got him to let me have a hundred. I then took a box at the + Capronica Theatre, and ordered a good supper at the inn where we had + supped before. + </p> + <p> + “I want a room with a bed,” I said to the waiter. + </p> + <p> + “That’s not allowed in Rome, signor,” he replied, “but on the third floor + we have two rooms with large sofas which might do instead, without the + Holy Office being able to say anything.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at the rooms and took them, and ordered the man to get the best + supper that Rome could offer. + </p> + <p> + As I was entering the box with the two girls I saw the Marchioness d’Aout + was my near neighbour. She accosted me, and congratulated herself on her + vicinity to me. She was accompanied by her French abbe, her husband, and a + fine-looking young man, whom I had never seen before. She asked who my + companions were, and I told her they were in the Venetian ambassador’s + household. She praised their beauty and began to talk to Armelline, who + answered well enough till the curtain went up. The young man also + complimented her, and after having asked my permission he gave her a large + packet of bonbons, telling her to share them with her neighbour. I had + guessed him to be a Florentine from his accent, and asked him if the + sweets came from the banks of the Arno; he told me they were from Naples, + whence he had just arrived. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the first act I was surprised to hear him say that he had a + letter of introduction for me from the Marchioness of C——. + </p> + <p> + “I have just heard your name,” he said, “and tomorrow I shall have the + honour of delivering the letter in person, if you will kindly give me your + address.” + </p> + <p> + After these polite preliminaries I felt that I must comply with his + request. + </p> + <p> + I asked after the marquis, his mother-in-law, and Anastasia, saying that I + was delighted to hear from the marchioness from whom I had been expecting + an answer for the last month. + </p> + <p> + “The charming marchioness has deigned to entrust me with the answer you + speak of.” + </p> + <p> + “I long to read it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I may give you the letter now, though I shall still claim the + privilege of calling on you to-morrow. I will bring it to you in your box, + if you will allow me.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray do so.” + </p> + <p> + He might easily have given it to me from the box where he was, but this + would not have suited his plans. He came in, and politeness obliged me to + give him my place next to Armelline. He took out an elaborate pocket-book, + and gave me the letter. I opened it, but finding that it covered four + pages, I said I would read it when I got home, as the box was dark. “I + shall stay in Rome till Easter,” he said, “as I want to see all the + sights; though indeed I cannot hope to see anything more beautiful than + the vision now before me.” + </p> + <p> + Armelline, who was gazing fixedly at him, blushed deeply. I felt that his + compliment, though polite, was entirely out of place, and in some sort an + insult to myself. However, I said nothing, but decided mentally that the + Florentine Adonis must be a fop of the first water. + </p> + <p> + Finding his compliment created a silence, he saw he had made himself + offensive, and after a few disconnected remarks withdrew from the box. In + spite of myself the man annoyed me, and I congratulated Armelline on the + rapidity of her conquest, asking her what she thought of him. “He is a + fine man, but his compliments shews he has no taste. Tell me, is it the + custom for people of fashion to make a young girl blush the first time + they see her?” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear Armelline, it is neither customary nor polite; and anyone who + wishes to mix in good society would never do such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + I lapsed into silence, as though I wanted to listen to the music; but as a + matter of fact my heart was a prey to cruel jealousy. I thought the matter + over, and came to the conclusion that the Florentine had treated me + rudely. He might have guessed that I was in love with Armelline, and to + make such an open declaration of love to my very face was nothing more nor + less than an insult to me. + </p> + <p> + After I had kept this unusual silence for a quarter of an hour the simple + Armelline made me worse by saying that I must calm myself, as I might be + sure that the young man’s compliment had not given her the slightest + pleasure. She did not see that by saying this she made me feel that the + compliment had had the directly opposite effect. + </p> + <p> + I said that I had hoped he had pleased her. + </p> + <p> + To finish the matter up, she said by way of soothing me that the young man + did not mean to vex me, as he doubtless took me for her father. + </p> + <p> + What could I reply to this observation, as cruel as it was reasonable? + Nothing; I could only take refuge in silence and a fit of childish + ill-humour. + </p> + <p> + At last I could bear it no longer, and begged the two girls to come away + with me. + </p> + <p> + The second act was just over, and if I had been in my right senses I + should never have made them such an unreasonable request; but the + crassness of my proceedings did not strike me till the following day. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the strangeness of my request they merely exchanged glances + and got ready to go. Not knowing what better excuse to give I told them I + did not want the princess’s carriage to be noticed as everyone left the + theatre, and that I would bring them again to the theatre the following + day. + </p> + <p> + I would not let Armelline put her head inside the Marchioness d’Aout’s + box, and so we went out. I found the man who accompanied the carriage + talking to one of his mates at the door of the theatre, and this made me + think that the princess had come to the opera. + </p> + <p> + We got down at the inn, and I whispered to the man to take his horses home + and to call for us at three o’clock; for the cold was intense, and both + horses and men had to be considered. + </p> + <p> + We began by sitting down in front of a roaring fire, and for half an hour + we did nothing but eat oysters, which were opened in our presence by a + clever waiter, who took care not to lose a drop of the fluid. As quick as + he opened we ate, and the laughter of the girls, who talked of how we had + eaten them before, caused my anger to gradually disappear. + </p> + <p> + In Armelline’s gentleness I saw the goodness of her heart, and I was angry + with myself for my absurd jealousy of a man who was much more calculated + to please a young girl than I. + </p> + <p> + Armelline drank champagne, and stole occasional glances in my direction as + if to entreat me to join them in their mirth. + </p> + <p> + Emilie spoke of her marriage, and without saying anything about my + projected visit to Civita Vecchia I promised that her future husband + should have his plenary dispensation before very long. While I spoke I + kissed Armelline’s fair hands, and she looked at me as if thankful for the + return of my affection. + </p> + <p> + The oysters and champagne had their natural effect, and we had a + delightful supper. We had sturgeon and some delicious truffles, which I + enjoyed not so much for my own sake as for the pleasure with which my + companions devoured them. + </p> + <p> + A man in love is provided with a kind of instinct which tells him that the + surest way to success is to provide the beloved object with pleasures that + are new to her. + </p> + <p> + When Armelline saw me become gay and ardent once more she recognized her + handiwork, and was doubtless proud of the power she exercised over me. She + took my hand of her own accord, and continued gazing into my eyes. Emilie + was occupied in the enjoyment of the meal, and did not trouble herself + about our behaviour. Armelline was so tender and loving that I made sure + of victory after we had had some more oysters and a bowl of punch. + </p> + <p> + When the dessert, the fifty oysters, and all the materials for making the + punch were on the table, the waiter left the room, saying that the ladies + would find every requisite in the neighbouring apartment. + </p> + <p> + The room was small, and the fire very hot, and I bade the two friends + arrange their dress more comfortably. + </p> + <p> + Their dresses fitted their figures, and were trimmed with fur and + stiffened with whalebones, so they went into the next room, and came back + in white bodices and short dimity petticoats, laughing at the slightness + of their attire. + </p> + <p> + I had sufficient strength of mind to conceal my emotion, and even not to + look at their breasts when they complained of having no neckerchiefs or + breast-bands to their chemises. I knew how inexperienced they were, and + felt certain that when they saw the indifference with which I took their + slight attire they themselves would think it was of no consequence. + Armelline and Emilie had both beautiful breasts, and knew it; they were + therefore astonished at my indifference, perhaps thought that I had never + seen a fine breast. As a matter of fact a fine figure is much more scarce + at Rome than a pretty face. + </p> + <p> + Thus, in spite of their modesty, their vanity impelled them to shew me + that my indifference was ill-placed, but it was my part to put them at + their ease, and to make them fling shame to the winds. + </p> + <p> + They were enchanted when I told them to try their hands at a bowl of + punch, and they simply danced for joy when I pronounced it better than my + own brew. + </p> + <p> + Then came the oyster-game, and I scolded Armelline for having swallowed + the liquid as I was taking the oyster from her lips. I agreed that it was + very hard to avoid doing so, but I offered to shew them how it could be + done by placing the tongue in the way. This gave me an opportunity of + teaching them the game of tongues, which I shall not explain because it is + well known to all true lovers. Armelline played her part with such evident + relish that I could see she enjoyed it as well as I, though she agreed it + was a very innocent amusement. + </p> + <p> + It so chanced that a fine oyster slipped from its shell as I was placing + it between Emilie’s lips. It fell on to her breast, and she would have + recovered it with her fingers; but I claimed the right of regaining it + myself, and she had to unlace her bodice to let me do so. I got hold of + the oyster with my lips, but did so in such a manner as to prevent her + suspecting that I had taken any extraordinary pleasure in the act. + Armelline looked on without laughing; she was evidently surprised at the + little interest I had taken in what was before my eye. Emilie laughed and + relaced her bodice. + </p> + <p> + The opportunity was too good to be lost, so taking Armelline on my knee I + gave her an oyster and let it slip as Emilie’s had slipped, much to the + delight of the elder, who wanted to see how her young companion would go + through the ordeal. + </p> + <p> + Armelline was really as much delighted herself, though she tried to + conceal her pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “I want my oyster,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Take it, then.” + </p> + <p> + There was no need to tell me twice. I unlaced her corset in such a way as + to make it fall still lower, bewailing the necessity of having to search + for it with my hands. + </p> + <p> + What a martyrdom for an amorous man to have to conceal his bliss at such a + moment! + </p> + <p> + I did not let Armelline have any occasion to accuse me of taking too much + licence, for I only touched her alabaster spheres so much as was + absolutely necessary. + </p> + <p> + When I had got the oyster again I could restrain myself no more, and + affixing my lips to one of the blossoms of her breast I sucked it with a + voluptuous pleasure which is beyond all description. + </p> + <p> + She was astonished, but evidently moved, and I did not leave her till my + enjoyment was complete. + </p> + <p> + When she marked my dreamy langourous gaze, she asked me it it had given me + much pleasure to play the part of an infant. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dearest,” I replied, “but it’s only an innocent jest.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think so; and I hope you will say nothing about it to the + superioress. It may be innocent for you, but it is not for me, as I + experienced sensations which must partake of the nature of sin. We will + pick up no more oysters.” + </p> + <p> + “These are mere trifles,” said Emilie, “the stain of which will easily be + wiped out with a little holy water. At all events we can swear that there + has been no kissing between us.” + </p> + <p> + They went into the next room for a moment, I did the same, and we then sat + on the sofa before the fire. As I sat between them I observed that our + legs were perfectly alike, and that I could not imagine why women stuck so + obstinately to their petticoats. + </p> + <p> + While I talked I touched their legs, saying it was just as if I were to + touch my own. + </p> + <p> + They did not interrupt this examination which I carried up to the knee, + and I told Emilie that all the reward I would ask for my services was that + I might see her thighs, to compare them with Armelline’s. + </p> + <p> + “She will be bigger than I,” said Armelline, “though I am the taller.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there would be no harm in letting me see.” + </p> + <p> + “I think there would.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will feel with my hands.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you would look at the same time.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear I will not.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me bandage your eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; but I will bandage yours too.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; we will play, at blindman’s buff.” + </p> + <p> + Before the bandaging began I took care to make them swallow a good dose of + punch, and, then we proceeded to play. The two girls let me span their + thighs several times, laughing and falling over me whenever my hands went + too high. + </p> + <p> + I lifted the bandage and saw everything, but they pretended not to suspect + anything. + </p> + <p> + They treated me in the same way, no doubt to see what it was that they + felt when they fell upon me. + </p> + <p> + This delightful game went on; till exhausted, nature would not allow me to + play it any more. I put myself in a state of decency, and then told them + to take off their bandages. + </p> + <p> + They did so and sat beside me, thinking, perhaps, that they would be able + to, disavow everything on the score of the bandage. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me that Emilie had had a lover, though I took good care not + to tell her so; but Armelline was a pure virgin. She was meeker than her + friend, and her great eyes shone as voluptuously but more modestly. + </p> + <p> + I would have snatched a kiss from her pretty mouth, but she turned away + her head, though she squeezed my hands tenderly. I was astonished at this + refusal after the liberties I had taken with her. + </p> + <p> + We had talked about balls, and they were both extremely anxious to see + one. + </p> + <p> + The public ball was the rage with all the young Romans. For ten long years + the Pope Rezzonico had deprived them of this pleasure. Although Rezzonico + forbade dancing, he allowed gaming of every description. Ganganelli, his + successor, had other views, and forbade gaming but allowed dancing. + </p> + <p> + So much for papal infallibility; what one condemns the other approves. + Ganganelli thought it better to let his subjects skip than to give them + the opportunity of ruining themselves, of committing suicide, or of + becoming brigands; but Rezzonico did not see the matter in that light. I + promised the girls I would take them to the ball as soon as I could + discover one where I was not likely to be recognized. + </p> + <p> + Three o’clock struck, and I took them back to the convent, well enough + pleased with the progress I had made, though I had only increased my + passion. I was surer than ever that Armelline was born to exercise an + irresistible sway over every man who owed fealty to beauty. + </p> + <p> + I was amongst her liegemen, and am so still, but the incense is all gone + and the censer of no value. + </p> + <p> + I could not help reflecting on the sort of glamour which made me fall in + love with one who seemed all new to me, while I loved her in exactly the + same manner as I had loved her predecessor. But in reality there was no + real novelty; the piece was the same, though the title might be altered. + But when I had won what I coveted, did I realize that I was going over old + ground? Did I complain? Did I think myself deceived? + </p> + <p> + Not one whit; and doubtless for this reason, that whilst I enjoyed the + piece I kept my eyes fixed on the title which had so taken my fancy. If + this be so, of what use is title at all? The title of a book, the name of + a dish, the name of a town—of what consequence are all these when + what one wants is to read the book, to eat the dish, and to see the town. + </p> + <p> + The comparison is a sophism. Man becomes amorous through the senses, + which, touch excepted, all reside in the head. In love a beautiful face is + a matter of the greatest moment. + </p> + <p> + A beautiful female body might well excite a man to carnal indulgence, even + though the head were covered, but never to real love. If at the moment of + physical delight the covering were taken away, and a face of hideous, + revolting ugliness disclosed, one would fly in horror, in spite of the + beauties of the woman’s body. + </p> + <p> + But the contrary does not hold good. If a man has fallen in love with a + sweet, enchanting face, and succeeds in lifting the veil of the sanctuary + only to find deformities there, still the face wins the day, atones for + all, and the sacrifice is consummated. + </p> + <p> + The face is thus paramount, and hence it has come to be agreed that + women’s bodies shall be covered and their faces disclosed; while men’s + clothes are arranged in such a way that women can easily guess at what + they cannot see. + </p> + <p> + This arrangement is undoubtedly to the advantage of women; art can conceal + the imperfections of the face, and even make it appear beautiful, but no + cosmetic can dissemble an ugly breast, stomach, or any other part of the + man body. + </p> + <p> + In spite of this, I confess that the phenomerides of Sparta were in the + right, like all women who, though they possess a fine figure, have a + repulsive face; in spite of the beauty of the piece, the title drives + spectators away. Still an interesting face is an inseparable accident of + love. + </p> + <p> + Thrice happy are they who, like Armelline, have beauty both in the face + and body. + </p> + <p> + When I got home I was so fortunate as to find Margarita in a deep sleep. I + took care not to awake her, and went to bed with as little noise as + possible. I was in want of rest, for I no longer enjoyed the vigour of + youth, and I slept till twelve. + </p> + <p> + When I awoke, Margarita told me that a handsome young man had called on me + at ten o’clock, and that she had amused him till eleven, not daring to + awake me. + </p> + <p> + “I made him some coffee,” said she, “and he was pleased to pronounce it + excellent. He would not tell me his name, but he will come again tomorrow. + He gave me a piece of money, but I hope you will not mind. I don’t know + how much it is worth.” + </p> + <p> + I guessed that it was the Florentine. The piece was of two ounces. I only + laughed, for not loving Margarita I was not jealous of her. I told her she + had done quite right to amuse him and to accept the piece, which was worth + forty-eight paoli. + </p> + <p> + She kissed me affectionately, and thanks to this incident I heard nothing + about my having come home so late. + </p> + <p> + I felt curious to learn more about this generous Tuscan, so I proceeded to + read Leonilda’s letter. + </p> + <p> + His name, it appeared, was M——. He was a rich merchant + established in London, and had been commended to her husband by a Knight + of Malta. + </p> + <p> + Leonilda said he was generous, good-hearted, and polished, and assured me + that I should like him. + </p> + <p> + After telling me the family news, Leonilda concluded by saying that she + was in a fair way to become a mother, and that she would be perfectly + happy if she gave birth to a son. She begged me to congratulate the + marquis. + </p> + <p> + Whether from a natural instinct or the effects of prejudice, this news + made me shudder. I answered her letter in a few days, enclosing it in a + letter to the marquis, in which I told him that the grace of God was never + too late, and that I had never been so much pleased by any news as at + hearing he was likely to have an heir. + </p> + <p> + In the following May Leonilda gave birth to a son, whom I saw at Prague, + on the occasion of the coronation of Leopold. He called himself Marquis C——, + like his father, or perhaps we had better say like his mother’s husband, + who attained the age of eighty. + </p> + <p> + Though the young marquis did not know my name, I got introduced to him, + and had the pleasure of meeting him a second time at the theatre. He was + accompanied by a priest, who was called his governor, but such an office + was a superfluity for him, who was wiser at twenty than most men are at + sixty. + </p> + <p> + I was delighted to see that the young man was the living image of the old + marquis. I shed tears of joy as I thought how this likeness must have + pleased the old man and his wife, and I admired this chance which seemed + to have abetted nature in her deceit. + </p> + <p> + I wrote to my dear Leonilda, placing the letter in the hands of her son. + She did not get it till the Carnival of 1792, when the young marquis + returned to Naples; and a short time after I received an answer inviting + me to her son’s marriage and begging me to spend the remainder of my days + with her. + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? I may eventually do so.” + </p> + <p> + I called on the Princess Santa Croce at three o’clock, and found her in + bed, with the cardinal reading to her. + </p> + <p> + The first question she asked was, why I had left the opera at the end of + the second act. + </p> + <p> + “Princess, I can tell you an interesting history of my six hours of + adventure, but you must give me a free hand, for some of the episodes must + be told strictly after nature.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it anything in the style of Sister M—— M——?” + asked the cardinal. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my lord, something of the kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Princess, will you be deaf?” said his eminence, + </p> + <p> + “Of course I will,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + I then told my tale almost as I have written it. The slipping oysters and + the game of blind man’s buff made the princess burst with laughing, in + spite of her deafness. She agreed with the cardinal that I had acted with + great discretion, and told me that I should be sure to succeed on the next + attempt. + </p> + <p> + “In three or four days,” said the cardinal, “you will have the + dispensation, and then Emilie can marry whom she likes.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning the Florentine came to see me at nine o’clock, and I + found him to answer to the marchioness’s description; but I had a bone to + pick with him, and I was none the better pleased when he began asking me + about the young person in my box at the theatre; he wanted to know whether + she were married or engaged, if she had father, mother, or any other + relations. + </p> + <p> + I smiled sardonically, and begged to be excused giving him the required + information, as the young lady was masked when he saw her. + </p> + <p> + He blushed, and begged my pardon. + </p> + <p> + I thanked him for doing Margarita the honour of accepting a cup of coffee + from her hands, and begged him to take one with me, saying I would + breakfast with him next morning. He lived with Roland, opposite St. + Charles, where Madame Gabrieli, the famous singer, nicknamed la Coghetta, + lived. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the Florentine was gone, I went to St. Paul’s in hot haste, for + I longed to see what reception I should have from the two vestals I had + initiated so well. + </p> + <p> + When they appeared I noticed a great change. Emilie had become gay, while + Armelline looked sad. + </p> + <p> + I told the former that she should have her dispensation in three days, and + her warrant for four hundred crowns in a week. + </p> + <p> + “At the same time,” I added, “you shall have your grant of two hundred + crowns.” + </p> + <p> + At this happy tidings she ran to tell the superioress of her good fortune. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I was alone with Armelline I took her hands and covered them + with kisses, begging her to resume her wonted gaiety. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do,” said she, “without Emilie? What shall I do when you are + gone? I am unhappy. I love myself no longer.” + </p> + <p> + She shed tears which pierced me to the heart. I swore I would not leave + Rome till I had seen her married with a dowry of a thousand crowns. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want a thousand crowns, but I hope you will see me married as you + say; if you do not keep your promise it will kill me.” + </p> + <p> + “I would die rather than deceive you; but you on your side must forgive my + love, which, perhaps, made me go too far the other evening.” + </p> + <p> + “I forgive you everything if you will remain my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I will; and now let me kiss your beautiful lips.” + </p> + <p> + After this first kiss, which I took as a pledge of certain victory, she + wiped away her tears; and soon after Emilie reappeared, accompanied by the + superioress, who treated me with great cordiality. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to do as much for Armelline’s new friend as you have done for + Emilie,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “I will do everything in my power,” I replied; “and in return I hope you + will allow me to take these young ladies to the theatre this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “You will find them ready; how could I refuse you anything?” + </p> + <p> + When I was alone with the two friends I apologised for having disposed of + them without their consent. + </p> + <p> + “Our consent!” said Emilie: “we should be ungrateful indeed if we refused + you anything after all you have done for us.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, Armelline, will you withstand my love?” + </p> + <p> + “No; so long as it keeps within due bounds. No more blind man’s buff!” + </p> + <p> + “And it is such a nice game! You really grieve me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, invent another game,” said Emilie. + </p> + <p> + Emilie was becoming ardent, somewhat to my annoyance, for I was afraid + Armelline would get jealous. I must not be charged with foppishness on + this account. I knew the human heart. + </p> + <p> + When I left them I went to the Tordinona Theatre and took a box, and then + ordered a good supper at the same inn, not forgetting the oysters, though + I felt sure I should not require their aid. + </p> + <p> + I then called on a musician, whom I requested to get me three tickets for + a ball, where no one would be likely to know me. + </p> + <p> + I went home with the idea of dining by myself, but I found a note from the + Marchioness d’Aout, reproaching me in a friendly manner for not having + broken bread with her, and inviting me to dinner. I resolved to accept the + invitation, and when I got to the house I found the young Florentine + already there. + </p> + <p> + It was at this dinner that I found out many of his good qualities, and I + saw that Donna Leonilda had not said too much in his favour. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of the meal the marchioness asked why I had not stayed + till the end of the opera. + </p> + <p> + “Because the young ladies were getting tired.” + </p> + <p> + “I have found out that they do not belong to the Venetian ambassador’s + household. + </p> + <p> + “You are right, and I hope you will pardon my small fiction.” + </p> + <p> + “It was an impromptu effort to avoid telling me who they are, but they are + known.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I congratulate the curious.” + </p> + <p> + “The one I addressed deserves to excite general curiosity; but if I were + in your place I should make her use a little powder.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not the authority to do so, and if I had, I would not trouble her + for the world.” + </p> + <p> + I was pleased with the Florentine, who listened to all this without saying + a word. I got him to talk of England and of his business. He told me that + he was going to Florence to take possession of his inheritance, and to get + a wife to take back with him to London. As I left, I told him that I could + not have the pleasure of calling on him till the day after next, as I was + prevented by important business. He told me I must come at dinnertime, and + I promised to do so. + </p> + <p> + Full of love and hope, I went for my two friends, who enjoyed the whole + play without any interruption. + </p> + <p> + When we alighted at the inn I told the coachman to call for me at two, and + we then went up to the third floor, where we sat before the fire while the + oysters were being opened. They did not interest us as they had done + before. + </p> + <p> + Emilie had an important air; she was about to make a good marriage. + Armelline was meek, smiling, and affectionate, and reminded me of the + promise I had given her. I replied by ardent kisses which reassured her, + while they warned her that I would fain increase the responsibility I had + already contracted towards her. However, she seemed resigned, and I sat + down to table in a happy frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + As Emilie was on the eve of her wedding, she no doubt put down my neglect + of her to my respect for the sacrament of matrimony. + </p> + <p> + When supper was over I got on the sofa with Armelline, and spent three + hours which might have been delicious if I had not obstinately endeavoured + to obtain the utmost favour. She would not give in; all my supplications + and entreaties could not move her; she was sweet, but firm. She lay + between my arms, but would not grant what I wanted, though she gave me no + harsh or positive refusal. + </p> + <p> + It seems a puzzle, but in reality it is quite simple. + </p> + <p> + She left my arms a virgin, sorry, perhaps, that her sense of duty had not + allowed her to make me completely happy. + </p> + <p> + At last nature bade me cease, in spite of my love, and I begged her to + forgive me. My instinct told me that this was the only way by which I + might obtain her consent another time. + </p> + <p> + Half merry and half sad, we awoke Emilie who was in a deep sleep, and then + we started. I went home and got into bed, not troubling myself about the + storm of abuse with which Margarita greeted me. + </p> + <p> + The Florentine gave me a delicious dinner, overwhelmed me with + protestations of friendship, and offered me his purse if I needed it. + </p> + <p> + He had seen Armelline, and had been pleased with her. I had answered him + sharply when he questioned me about her, and ever since he had never + mentioned her name. + </p> + <p> + I felt grateful to him, and as if I must make him some return. + </p> + <p> + I asked him to dinner, and had Margarita to dine with us. Not caring for + her I should have been glad if he had fallen in love with her; there would + have been no difficulty, I believe, on her part, and certainly not on + mine; but nothing came of it. She admired a trinket which hung from his + watch-chain, and he begged my permission to give it her. I told him to do + so by all means, and that should have been enough; but the affair went no + farther. + </p> + <p> + In a week all the arrangements for Emilie’s marriage had been made. I gave + her her grant, and the same day she was married and went away with her + husband to Civita Vecchia. Menicuccio, whose name I have not mentioned for + some time, was well pleased with my relations with his sister, foreseeing + advantages for himself, and still better pleased with the turn his own + affairs were taking, for three days after Emilie’s wedding he married his + mistress, and set up in a satisfactory manner. When Emilie was gone the + superioress gave Armelline a new companion. She was only a few years older + than my sweetheart, and very pretty; but she did not arouse a strong + interest in my breast. When violently in love no other woman has ever had + much power over me. + </p> + <p> + The superioress told me that her name was Scholastica, and that she was + well worthy of my esteem, being, as she said, as good as Emilie. She + expressed a hope that I would do my best to help Scholastica to marry a + man whom she knew and who was in a good position. + </p> + <p> + This man was the son of a cousin of Scholastica’s. She called him her + nephew, though he was older than she. The dispensation could easily be got + for money, but if it was to be had for nothing I should have to make + interest with the Holy Father. I promised I would do my best in the + matter. + </p> + <p> + The carnival was drawing to a close, and Scholastica had never seen an + opera or a play. Armelline wanted to see a ball, and I had at last + succeeded in finding one where it seemed unlikely that I should be + recognized. However, it would have to be carefully managed, as serious + consequences might ensue; so I asked the two friends if they would wear + men’s clothes, to which they agreed very heartily. + </p> + <p> + I had taken a box at the Aliberti Theatre for the day after the ball, so I + told the two girls to obtain the necessary permission from the + superioress. + </p> + <p> + Though Armelline’s resistance and the presence of her new friend + discouraged me, I procured everything requisite to transform them into two + handsome lads. + </p> + <p> + As Armelline got into the carriage she gave me the bad news that + Scholastica knew nothing about our relations, and that we must be careful + what we did before her. I had no time to reply, for Scholastica got in, + and we drove off to the inn. When we were seated in front of a good fire, + I told them that if they liked I would go into the next room in spite of + the cold. + </p> + <p> + So saying, I shewed them their disguises, and Armelline said it would do + if I turned my back, appealing to Scholastics to confirm her. + </p> + <p> + “I will do as you like,” said she, “but I am very sorry to be in the way. + You are in love with each other, and here am I preventing you from giving + one another marks of your affection. Why don’t you treat me with + confidence? I am not a child, and I am your friend.” + </p> + <p> + These remarks shewed that she had plenty of common sense, and I breathed + again. + </p> + <p> + “You are right, fair Scholastics,” I said, “I do love Armelline, but she + does not love me, and refuses to make me happy on one pretence or + another.” + </p> + <p> + With these words I left the room, and after shutting the door behind me + proceeded to make up a fire in the second apartment. + </p> + <p> + In a quarter of an hour Armelline knocked at the door, and begged me to + open it. She was in her breeches, and said they needed my assistance as + their shoes were so small they could not get them on. + </p> + <p> + I was in rather a sulky humour, so she threw her arms round my neck and + covered my face with kisses which soon restored me to myself. + </p> + <p> + While I was explaining the reason of my ill temper, and kissing whatever I + could see, Scholastica burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “I was sure that I was in the way,” said she; “and if you do not trust me, + I warn you that I will not go with you to the opera to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, embrace him,” said Armelline. + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart.” + </p> + <p> + I did not much care for Armelline’s generosity, but I embraced Scholastica + as warmly as she deserved. Indeed I would have done so if she had been + less pretty, for such kindly consideration deserved a reward. I even + kissed her more ardently than I need have done, with the idea of punishing + Armelline, but I made a mistake. She was delighted, and kissed her friend + affectionately as if in gratitude. + </p> + <p> + I made them sit down, and tried to pull on their shoes, but I soon found + that they were much too small, and that we must get some more. + </p> + <p> + I called the waiter who attended to us, and told him to go and fetch a + bootmaker with an assortment of shoes. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile I would not be contented with merely kissing Armelline. + She neither dared to grant nor to refuse; and as if to relieve herself of + any responsibility, made Scholastica submit to all the caresses I lavished + on her. The latter seconded my efforts with an ardour that would have + pleased me exceedingly if I had been in love with her. + </p> + <p> + She was exceedingly beautiful, and her features were as perfectly + chiselled as Armelline’s, but Armelline was possessed of a delicate and + subtle charm of feature peculiar to herself. + </p> + <p> + I liked the amusement well enough, but there was a drop of bitterness in + all my enjoyment. I thought it was plain that Armelline did not love me, + and that Scholastica only encouraged me to encourage her friend. + </p> + <p> + At last I came to the conclusion that I should do well to attach myself to + the one who seemed likely to give me the completest satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I conceived this idea I felt curious to see whether Armelline + would discover any jealousy if I shewed myself really in love with + Scholastica, and if the latter pronounced me to be too daring, for + hitherto my hands had not crossed the Rubicon of their waistbands. I was + just going to work when the shoemaker arrived, and in a few minutes the + girls were well fitted. + </p> + <p> + They put on their coats, and I saw two handsome young men before me, while + their figures hinted their sex sufficiently to make a third person jealous + of my good fortune. + </p> + <p> + I gave orders for supper to be ready at midnight, and we went to the ball. + I would have wagered a hundred to one that no one would recognize me + there, as the man who got the tickets had assured me that it was a + gathering of small tradesmen. But who can trust to fate or chance? + </p> + <p> + We went into the hall, and the first person I saw was the Marchioness + d’Aout, with her husband and her inseparable abbe. + </p> + <p> + No doubt I turned a thousand colours, but it was no good going back, for + the marchioness had recognized me, so I composed myself and went up to + her. We exchanged the usual compliments of polite society, to which she + added some good-natured though ironical remarks on my two young friends. + Not being accustomed to company, they remained confused and speechless. + But the worst of all was to come. A tall young lady who had just finished + a minuet came up to Armelline, dropped a curtsy, and asked her to dance. + </p> + <p> + In this young lady I recognized the Florentine who had disguised himself + as a girl, and looked a very beautiful one. + </p> + <p> + Armelline thought she would not appear a dupe, and said she recognized + him. + </p> + <p> + “You are making a mistake,” said he, calmly. “I have a brother who is very + like me, just as you have a sister who is your living portrait. My brother + had the pleasure of exchanging a few words with her at the Capronica.” The + Florentine’s cleverness made the marchioness laugh, and I had to join in + her mirth, though I felt little inclination to do so. + </p> + <p> + Armelline begged to be excused dancing, so the marchioness made her sit + between the handsome Florentine and herself. The marquis took possession + of Scholastica, and I had to be attentive to the marchioness without + seeming to be aware of the existence of Armelline, to whom the Florentine + was talking earnestly. + </p> + <p> + I felt as jealous as a tiger; and having to conceal my rage under an air + of perfect satisfaction, the reader may imagine how well I enjoyed the + ball. + </p> + <p> + However, there was more anxiety in store for me; for presently I noticed + Scholastica leave the marquis, and go apart with a middle-aged man, with + whom she conversed in an intimate manner. + </p> + <p> + The minuets over, the square dances began, and I thought I was dreaming + when I saw Armelline and the Florentine taking their places. + </p> + <p> + I came up to congratulate them, and asked Armelline, gently, if she was + sure of the steps. + </p> + <p> + “This gentleman says I have only to imitate him, and that I cannot + possibly make any mistakes.” + </p> + <p> + I had nothing to say to this, so I went towards Scholastica, feeling very + curious to know who was her companion. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she saw me she introduced me to him, saying timidly that this + was the nephew of whom she had spoken, the same that wished to marry her. + </p> + <p> + I was surprised, but I did not let it appear. I told him that the + superioress had spoken of him to me, and that I was thinking over the ways + and means of obtaining a dispensation without any costs. + </p> + <p> + He was an honest-looking man, and thanked me heartily, commending himself + to my good offices, as he said he was far from rich. + </p> + <p> + I left them together, and on turning to view the dance I was astonished to + see that Armelline was dancing admirably, and executing all the figures. + The Florentine seemed a finished dancer, and they both looked very happy. + </p> + <p> + I was far from pleased, but I congratulated them both on their + performance. The Florentine had disguised himself so admirably that no one + would have taken him for a man. It was the Marchioness d’Aout who had been + his dresser. + </p> + <p> + As I was too jealous to leave Armelline to her own devices, I refused to + dance, preferring to watch her. + </p> + <p> + I was not at all uneasy about Scholastica, who was with her betrothed. + About half-past eleven the Marchioness d’Aout, who was delighted with + Armelline, and possibly had her protege’s happiness in view, asked me, in + a tone that amounted to a command, to sup with her in company with my two + companions. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot have the honour,” I replied, “and my two companions know the + reason.” + </p> + <p> + “That is as much as to say,” said the marchioness, “that he will do as you + please,” turning to Armelline as she spoke. + </p> + <p> + I addressed myself to Armelline, and observed smilingly that she knew + perfectly well that she must be home by half-past twelve at latest. + </p> + <p> + “True,” she replied, “but you can do as you please.” + </p> + <p> + I replied somewhat sadly that I did not feel myself at liberty to break my + word, but that she could make me do even that if she chose. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the marchioness, her husband, the abbe, and the Florentine, + urged her to use her power to make me break my supposed word, and + Armelline actually began to presume to do so. + </p> + <p> + I was bursting with rage; but making up my mind to do anything rather than + appear jealous, I said simply that I would gladly consent if her friend + would consent also. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said she, with a pleased air that cut me to the quick, “go + and ask her.” + </p> + <p> + That was enough for me. I went to Scholastica and told her the + circumstances in the presence of her lover, begging her to refuse without + compromising me. + </p> + <p> + Her lover said I was perfectly right, but Scholastica required no + persuasion, telling me that she had quite made up her mind not to sup with + anyone. + </p> + <p> + She came with me, and I told her to speak to Armelline apart before saying + anything to the others. + </p> + <p> + I led Scholastica before the marchioness, bewailing my want of success. + </p> + <p> + Scholastica told Armelline that she wanted to say a few words to her + aside, and after a short conversation they came back looking sorry, and + Armelline told the marchioness that she found it would be impossible for + them to come. The lady did not press us any longer, so we went away. + </p> + <p> + I told Scholastica’s intended to keep what had passed to himself, and + asked him to dine with me on the day after Ash Wednesday. + </p> + <p> + The night was dark, and we walked to the place where I had ordered the + carriage to be in waiting. + </p> + <p> + To me it was as if I had come out of hell, and on the way to the inn I did + not speak a word, not even answering the questions which the too-simple + Armelline addressed to me in a voice that would have softened a heart of + stone. Scholastica avenged me by reproaching her for having obliged me to + appear either rude or jealous, or a breaker of my word. + </p> + <p> + When we got to the inn Armelline changed my jealous rage into pity; her + eyes swam with tears, which Scholastica’s home truths had drawn forth. + </p> + <p> + The supper was ready, so they had no time to change their dress. I was sad + enough, but I could not bear to see Armelline sad also. I resolved to do + my best to drive away her melancholy, even though I suspected that it + arose from love of the Florentine. + </p> + <p> + The supper was excellent, and Scholastica did honour to it, while + Armelline, contrary to her wont, scarcely touched a thing. Scholastica was + charming. She embraced her friend, and told her to be merry with her, as I + had become the friend of her betrothed, and she was sure I would do as + much for her as I had done for Emilie. She blessed the ball and the chance + which had brought him there. In short, she did her best to shew Armelline + that with my love she had no reason to be sad. + </p> + <p> + Armelline dared not disclose the true cause of her sadness. The fact was, + that she wanted to get married, and the handsome Florentine was the man to + her liking. + </p> + <p> + Our supper came to an end, and still Armelline was gloomy. She only drank + one glass of punch, and as she had eaten so little I would not try and + make her drink more for fear lest it should do her harm. Scholastica, on + the other hand, took such a fancy to this agreeable fluid, which she + tasted for the first time, that she drank deeply, and was amazed to find + it mounting to her head instead of descending to her stomach. In this + pleasant state, she felt it was her duty to reconcile Armelline and + myself, and to assure us that we might be as tender as we liked without + minding her presence. + </p> + <p> + Getting up from table and standing with some difficulty, she carried her + friend to the sofa, and caressed her in such a way that Armelline could + not help laughing, despite her sadness. Then she called me and placed her + in my arms. I caressed her, and Armelline, though she did not repulse me, + did not respond as Scholastica had hoped. I was not disappointed; I did + not think it likely she would grant now what she had refused to grant when + I had held her in my arms for those hours whilst Emilie was fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + However, Scholastica began to reproach me with my coldness, though I + deserved no blame at all on this score. + </p> + <p> + I told them to take off their men’s clothes, and to dress themselves as + women. + </p> + <p> + I helped Scholastica to take off her coat and waistcoat, and then aided + Armelline in a similar manner. + </p> + <p> + When I brought them their chemises, Armelline told me to go and stand by + the fire, and I did so. + </p> + <p> + Before long a noise of kissing made me turn round, and I saw Scholastica, + on whom the punch had taken effect, devouring Armelline’s breast with + kisses. At last this treatment had the desired result; Armelline became + gay, and gave as good as she got. + </p> + <p> + At this sight the blood boiled in my veins, and running to them I found + Scholastic was not ill pleased that I should do justice to her beautiful + spheres, while for the nonce I transformed her into a nurse. + </p> + <p> + Armelline was ashamed to appear less generous than her friend, and + Scholastica was triumphant when she saw the peculiar use to which (for the + first time) I put Armelline’s hands. + </p> + <p> + Armelline called to her friend to help, and she was not backward; but in + spite of her twenty years her astonishment at the catastrophe was great. + </p> + <p> + After it was over I put on their chemises and took off their breeches with + all the decency imaginable, and after spending a few minutes in the next + room they came and sat down on my knee of their own accord. + </p> + <p> + Scholastica, instead of being annoyed at my giving the preference to the + hidden charms of Armelline, seemed delighted, watching what I did, and how + Armelline took it, with the closest attention. She no doubt longed to see + me perform the magnum opus, but the gentle Armelline would not allow me to + go so far. + </p> + <p> + After I had finished with Armelline I recollected I had duties towards + Scholastica, and I proceeded to inspect her charms. + </p> + <p> + It was difficult to decide which of the two deserved to carry off the + apple. Scholastica, perhaps, was strictly speaking the more beautiful of + the two, but I loved Armelline, and love casts a glamour over the beloved + object. Scholastica appeared to me to be as pure a virgin as Armelline, + and I saw that I might do what I liked with her. But I would not abuse my + liberty, not caring to confess how powerful an ally the punch had been. + </p> + <p> + However, I did all in my power to give her pleasure without giving her the + greatest pleasure of all. Scholastica, was glutted with voluptuous + enjoyment, and was certain that I had only eluded her desires from motives + of delicacy. + </p> + <p> + I took them back to the convent, assuring them that I would take them to + the opera on the following evening. + </p> + <p> + I went to bed, doubtful whether I had gained a victory or sustained a + defeat; and it was not till I awoke that I was in a position to give a + decided opinion. + </p> + <p> + [There is here a considerable hiatus in the author’s manuscript.] + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0022" id="linkF2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <a name="linkepisode29" id="linkepisode29"></a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EPISODE 29 — FLORENCE TO TRIESTE + </h2> + <a name="linkF2HCH0018" id="linkF2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Madame Denis—Dedini—Zanovitch—Zen—I Am Obliged to Leave— + I Arrive at Bologna—General Albergati +</pre> + <p> + Without speaking at any length I asked the young grand duke to give me an + asylum in his dominions for as long as I might care to stay. I anticipated + any questions he might have asked by telling him the reasons which had + made me an exile from my native land. + </p> + <p> + “As to my necessities,” I added, “I shall ask for help of no one; I have + sufficient funds to ensure my independence. I think of devoting the whole + of my time to study.” + </p> + <p> + “So long as your conduct is good,” he replied, “the laws guarantee your + freedom; but I am glad you have applied to me. Whom do you know in + Florence?” + </p> + <p> + “Ten years ago, my lord, I had some distinguished acquaintances here; but + now I propose to live in retirement, and do not intend renewing any old + friendships.” + </p> + <p> + Such was my conversation with the young sovereign, and after his + assurances I concluded that no one would molest me. + </p> + <p> + My adventures in Tuscany the years before were in all probability + forgotten, or almost forgotten, as the new Government had nothing in + common with the old. + </p> + <p> + After my interview with the grand duke I went to a bookseller’s shop and + ordered some books. A gentleman in the shop, hearing me making enquiries + about Greek works, accosted me, and we got on well together. I told him I + was working at a translation of the “Iliad,” and in return he informed me + that he was making a collection of Greek epigrams, which he wished to + publish in Greek and Italian. I told him I should like to see this work, + whereupon he asked me where I lived. I told him, learnt his name and + address, and called on him the next day. He returned the visit, and we + became fast friends, though we never either walked or ate together. + </p> + <p> + This worthy Florentine was named (or is named, if he be still alive) + Everard de Medici. + </p> + <p> + I was very comfortable with Allegranti; I had the quiet so necessary to + literary labours, but nevertheless I made up my mind to change my lodging. + Magdalena, my landlord’s niece, was so clever and charming, though but a + child, that she continually disturbed my studies. She came into my room, + wished me good day, asked me what kind of a night I had spent, if I wanted + anything, and the sight of her grace and beauty and the sound of her voice + so ravished me, that I determined to seek safety in flight. + </p> + <p> + A few years later Magdalena became a famous musician. + </p> + <p> + After leaving Allegranti I took rooms in a tradesman’s house; his wife was + ugly, and he had no pretty daughters or seductive nieces. There I lived + for three weeks like Lafontaine’s rat, very discreetly. + </p> + <p> + About the same time, Count Stratico arrived at Florence with his pupil, + the Chevalier Morosini, who was then eighteen. I could not avoid calling + on Stratico. He had broken his leg some time before and was still unable + to go out with his pupil, who had all the vices and none of the virtues of + youth. Consequently, Stratico was always afraid of something happening to + him, and he begged me to make myself his companion, and even to share his + pleasures, so that he might not go into bad company and dangerous houses + alone and undefended. + </p> + <p> + Thus my days of calm study vanished away. I had to partake in the + debauchery of a young rake, and all out of pure sensibility. + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier Morosini was a thorough-paced profligate. He hated + literature, good society, and the company of sensible people. His daily + pleasures were furious riding, hard drinking, and hard dissipation with + prostitutes, whom he sometimes almost killed. + </p> + <p> + This young nobleman paid a man for the sole service of getting him a woman + or a girl every day. + </p> + <p> + During the two months which he passed in Florence I saved his life a score + of times. I got very tired of my duty, but I felt bound to persevere. + </p> + <p> + He was liberal to the verge of recklessness, and would never allow me to + pay for anything. Even here, however, disputes often arose between us; as + he paid, he wanted me to eat, drink, and dissipate in the same measures as + himself. However, I had my own way on most occasions, only giving in when + it suited me to do so. + </p> + <p> + We went to see the opera at Lucca, and brought two of the dancers home to + supper. As the chevalier was drunk as usual, he treated the woman he had + chosen—a superb creature—very indifferently. The other was + pretty enough, but I had done nothing serious with her, so I proceeded to + avenge the beauty. She took me for the chevalier’s father, and advised me + to give him a better education. + </p> + <p> + After the chevalier was gone I betook myself to my studies again, but I + supped every night with Madame Denis, who had formerly been a dancer in + the King of Prussia’s service, and had retired to Florence. + </p> + <p> + She was about my age, and therefore not young, but still she had + sufficient remains of her beauty to inspire a tender passion; she did not + look more than thirty. She was as fresh as a young girl, had excellent + manners, and was extremely intelligent. Besides all these advantages, she + had a comfortable apartment on the first floor of one of the largest cafes + in Florence. In front of her room was a balcony where it was delicious to + sit and enjoy the cool of the evening. + </p> + <p> + The reader may remember how I had become her friend at Berlin in 1764, and + when we met again at Florence our old flames were rekindled. + </p> + <p> + The chief boarder in the house where she lived was Madame Brigonzi, whom I + had met at Memel. This lady, who pretended that she had been my mistress + twenty-five years before, often came into Madame Denis’s rooms with an old + lover of hers named Marquis Capponi. + </p> + <p> + He was an agreeable and well-educated man; and noticing that he seemed to + enjoy my conversation I called on him, and he called on me, leaving his + card as I was not at home. + </p> + <p> + I returned the visit, and he introduced me to his family and invited me to + dinner. For the first time since I had come to Florence I dressed myself + with elegance and wore my jewels. + </p> + <p> + At the Marquis Capponi’s I made the acquaintance of Corilla’s lover, the + Marquis Gennori, who took me to a house where I met my fate. I fell in + love with Madame, a young widow, who had been spending a few months in + Paris. This visit had added to her other attractions the charm of a good + manner, which always counts for so much. + </p> + <p> + This unhappy love made the three months longer which I spent in Florence + painful to me. + </p> + <p> + It was at the beginning of October, and about that time Count Medini + arrived at Florence without a penny in his pocket, and without being able + to pay his vetturino, who had arrested him. + </p> + <p> + The wretched man, who seemed to follow me wherever I went, had taken up + his abode in the house of a poor Irishman. + </p> + <p> + I do not know how Medini found out that I was at Florence, but he wrote me + a letter begging me to come and deliver him from the police, who besieged + his room and talked of taking him to prison. He said he only wanted me to + go bail for him, and protested that I should not run any risk, as he was + sure of being able to pay in a few days. + </p> + <p> + My readers will be aware that I had good reason for not liking Medini, but + in spite of our quarrel I could not despise his entreaty. I even felt + inclined to become his surety, if he could prove his capability of paying + the sum for which he had been arrested. I imagined that the sum must be a + small one, and could not understand why the landlord did not answer for + him. My surprise ceased, however, when I entered his room. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I appeared he ran to embrace me, begging me to forget the past, + and to extract him from the painful position in which he found himself. + </p> + <p> + I cast a rapid glance over the room, and saw three trunks almost empty, + their contents being scattered about the floor. There was his mistress, + whom I knew, and who had her reasons for not liking me; her young sister, + who wept; and her mother, who swore, and called Medini a rogue, saying + that she would complain of him to the magistrate, and that she was not + going to allow her dresses and her daughter’s dresses to be seized for his + debts. + </p> + <p> + I asked the landlord why he did not go bail, as he had these persons and + their effects as security. + </p> + <p> + “The whole lot,” he answered, “won’t pay the vetturino, and the sooner + they are out of my house the better I shall be pleased.” + </p> + <p> + I was astonished, and could not understand how the bill could amount to + more than the value of all the clothes I saw on the floor, so I asked the + vetturino to tell me the extent of the debt. + </p> + <p> + He gave me a paper with Medini’s signature; the amount was two hundred and + forty crowns. + </p> + <p> + “How in the world,” I exclaimed, “could he contract this enormous debt?” + </p> + <p> + I wondered no longer when the vetturino told me that he had served them + for the last six weeks, having conducted the count and the three women + from Rome to Leghorn, and from Leghorn to Pisa, and from Pisa to Florence, + paying for their board all the way. + </p> + <p> + “The vetturino will never take me as bail for such an amount,” I said to + Medini, “and even if he would I should never be so foolish as to contract + such a debt.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me have a word with you in the next room,” said he; “I will put the + matter clearly before you.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + Two of the police would have prevented his going into the next room, on + the plea that he might escape through the window, but I said I would be + answerable for him. + </p> + <p> + Just then the poor vetturino came in and kissed my hand, saying that if I + would go bail for the count he would let me have three months wherein to + find the money. + </p> + <p> + As it happened it was the same man who had taken me to Rome with the + Englishwoman who had been seduced by the actor l’Etoile. I told him to + wait a moment. + </p> + <p> + Medini who was a great talker and a dreadful liar thought to persuade me + by shewing me a number of open letters, commending him in pompous terms to + the best houses in Florence. I read the letters, but I found no mention of + money in them, and I told him as much. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said he, “but there is play going on in these houses, and I am + sure of gaining immense sums.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be aware that I have no confidence in your good luck.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I have another resource.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + He shewed me a bundle of manuscript, which I found to be an excellent + translation of Voltaire’s “Henriade” into Italian verse. Tasso himself + could not have done it better. He said he hoped to finish the poem at + Florence, and to present it to the grand duke, who would be sure to make + him a magnificent present, and to constitute him his favourite. + </p> + <p> + I would not undeceive him, but I laughed to myself, knowing that the grand + duke only made a pretence of loving literature. A certain Abbe Fontaine, a + clever man, amused him with a little natural history, the only science in + which he took any interest. He preferred the worst prose to the best + verse, not having sufficient intellect to enjoy the subtle charms of + poetry. In reality he had only two passions—women and money. + </p> + <p> + After spending two wearisome hours with Medini, whose wit was great and + his judgment small, after heartily repenting of having yielded to my + curiosity and having paid him a visit, I said shortly that I could do + nothing for him. Despair drives men crazy; as I was making for the door, + he seized me by the collar. + </p> + <p> + He did not reflect in his dire extremity that he had no arms, that I was + stronger than he, that I had twice drawn his blood, and that the police, + the landlord, the vetturino, and the servants, were in the next room. I + was not coward enough to call for help; I caught hold of his neck with + both hands and squeezed him till he was nearly choked. He had to let go at + last, and then I took hold of his collar and asked him if he had gone mad. + </p> + <p> + I sent him against the wall, and opened the door and the police came in. + </p> + <p> + I told the vetturino that I would on no account be Medini’s surety, or be + answerable for him in any way. + </p> + <p> + Just as I was going out, he leapt forward crying that I must not abandon + him. + </p> + <p> + I had opened the door, and the police, fearing he would escape, ran + forward to get hold of him. Then began an interesting battle. Medini, who + had no arms, and was only in his dressing-gown, proceeded to distribute + kicks, cuffs, and blows amongst the four cowards, who had their swords at + their sides, whilst I held the door to prevent the Irishman going out and + calling for assistance. + </p> + <p> + Medini, whose nose was bleeding and his dress all torn, persisted in + fighting till the four policemen let him alone. I liked his courage, and + pitied him. + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s silence, and I asked his two liveried servants who + were standing by me why they had not helped their master. One said he owed + him six months’ wages, and the other said he wanted to arrest him on his + own account. + </p> + <p> + As Medini was endeavouring to staunch the blood in a basin of water, the + vetturino told him that as I refused to be his surety he must go to + prison. + </p> + <p> + I was moved by the scene that I had witnessed, and said to the vetturino, + </p> + <p> + “Give him a fortnight’s respite, and if he escapes before the expiration + of that term I will pay you.” + </p> + <p> + He thought it over for a few moments, and then said,— + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir, but I am not going to pay any legal expenses.” + </p> + <p> + I enquired how much the costs amounted to, and paid them, laughing at the + policemen’s claim of damages for blows they had received. + </p> + <p> + Then the two rascally servants said that if I would not be surety in the + same manner on their account, they would have Medini arrested. However, + Medini called out to me to pay no attention to them whatever. + </p> + <p> + When I had given the vetturino his acknowledgment and paid the four or + five crowns charged by the police, Medini told me that he had more to say + to me; but I turned my back on him, and went home to dinner. + </p> + <p> + Two hours later one of his servants came to me and promised if I would + give him six sequins to warn me if his master made any preparations for + flight. + </p> + <p> + I told him drily that his zeal was useless to me, as I was quite sure that + the count would pay all his debts within the term; and the next morning I + wrote to Medini informing him of the step his servant had taken. He + replied with a long letter full of thanks, in which he exerted all his + eloquence to persuade me to repair his fortunes. I did not answer. + </p> + <p> + However, his good genius, who still protected him, brought a person to + Florence who drew him out of the difficulty. This person was Premislas + Zanovitch, who afterwards became as famous as his brother who cheated the + Amsterdam merchants, and adopted the style of Prince Scanderbeck. I shall + speak of him later on. Both these finished cheats came to a bad end. + </p> + <p> + Premislas Zanovitch was then at the happy age of twenty-five; he was the + son of a gentleman of Budua, a town on the borders of Albania and + Dalmatia, formerly subject to the Venetian Republic and now to the Grand + Turk. In classic times it was known as Epirus. + </p> + <p> + Premislas was a young man of great intelligence, and after having studied + at Venice, and contracted a Venetian taste for pleasures and enjoyments of + all sorts, he could not make up his mind to return to Budua, where his + only associates would be dull Sclavs—uneducated, unintellectual, + coarse, and brutish. Consequently, when Premislas and his still more + talented brother Stephen were ordered by the Council of Ten to enjoy the + vast sums they had gained at play in their own country, they resolved to + become adventurers. One took the north and the other the south of Europe, + and both cheated and duped whenever the opportunity for doing so presented + itself. + </p> + <p> + I had seen Premislas when he was a child, and had already heard reports of + a notable achievement of his. At Naples he had cheated the Chevalier de + Morosini by persuading him to become his surety to the extent of six + thousand ducats, and now he arrived in Florence in a handsome carriage, + bringing his mistress with him, and having two tall lackeys and a valet in + his service. + </p> + <p> + He took good apartments, hired a carriage, rented a box at the opera, had + a skilled cook, and gave his mistress a lady-in-waiting. He then shewed + himself at the best club, richly dressed, and covered with jewellery. He + introduced himself under the name of Count Premislas Zanovitch. + </p> + <p> + There is a club in Florence devoted to the use of the nobility. Any + stranger can go there without being introduced, but so much the worse for + him if his appearance fails to indicate his right to be present. The + Florentines are ice towards him, leave him alone, and behave in such a + manner that the visit is seldom repeated. The club is at once decent and + licentious, the papers are to be read there, games of all kinds are + played, food and drink may be had, and even love is available, for ladies + frequent the club. + </p> + <p> + Zanovitch did not wait to be spoken to, but made himself agreeable to + everyone, and congratulated himself on mixing in such distinguished + company, talked about Naples which he had just left, brought in his own + name with great adroitness, played high, lost merrily, paid after + pretending to forget all about his debts, and in short pleased everyone. I + heard all this the next day from the Marquis Capponi, who said that + someone had asked him if he knew me, whereat he answered that when I left + Venice he was at college, but that he had often heard his father speak of + me in very high terms. He knew both the Chevalier Morosini and Count + Medini, and had a good deal to say in praise of the latter. The marquis + asked me if I knew him, and I replied in the affirmative, without feeling + it my duty to disclose certain circumstances which might not have been + advantageous to him; and as Madame Denis seemed curious to make his + acquaintance the Chevalier Puzzi promised to bring him to see her, which + he did in the course of a few days. + </p> + <p> + I happened to be with Madame Denis when Puzzi presented Zanovitch, and I + saw before me a fine-looking young man, who seemed by his confident manner + to be sure of success in all his undertakings. He was not exactly + handsome, but he had a perfect manner and an air of gaiety which seemed + infectious, with a thorough knowledge of the laws of good society. He was + by no means an egotist, and seemed never at a loss for something to talk + about. I led the conversation to the subject of his country, and he gave + me an amusing description of it, talking of his fief—part of which was + within the domains of the sultan—as a place where gaiety was unknown, and + where the most determined misanthrope would die of melancholy. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he heard my name he began speaking to me in a tone of the most + delicate flattery. I saw the makings of a great adventurer in him, but I + thought his luxury would prove the weak point in his cuirass. I thought + him something like what I had been fifteen years ago, but as it seemed + unlikely that he had my resources I could not help pitying him. + </p> + <p> + Zanovitch paid me a visit, and told me that Medini’s position had excited + his pity, and that he had therefore paid his debts. + </p> + <p> + I applauded his generosity, but I formed the conclusion that they had laid + some plot between them, and that I should soon hear of the results of this + new alliance. + </p> + <p> + I returned Zanovitch’s call the next day. He was at table with his + mistress, whom I should not have recognized if she had not pronounced my + name directly she saw me. + </p> + <p> + As she had addressed me as Don Giacomo, I called her Donna Ippolita, but + in a voice which indicated that I was not certain of her identity. She + told me I was quite right. + </p> + <p> + I had supped with her at Naples in company with Lord Baltimore, and she + was very pretty then. + </p> + <p> + Zanovitch asked me to dine with him the following day, and I should have + thanked him and begged to be excused if Donna Ippolita had not pressed me + to come. She assured me that I should find good company there, and that + the cook would excel himself. + </p> + <p> + I felt rather curious to see the company, and with the idea of shewing + Zanovitch that I was not likely to become a charge on his purse, I dressed + myself magnificently once more. + </p> + <p> + As I had expected, I found Medini and his mistress there, with two foreign + ladies and their attendant cavaliers, and a fine-looking and well-dressed + Venetian, between thirty-five and forty, whom I would not have recognized + if Zanovitch had not told me his name, Alois Zen. + </p> + <p> + “Zen was a patrician name, and I felt obliged to ask what titles I ought + to give him. + </p> + <p> + “Such titles as one old friend gives another, though it is very possible + you do not recollect me, as I was only ten years old when we saw each + other last.” + </p> + <p> + Zen then told me he was the son of the captain I had known when I was + under arrest at St. Andrews. + </p> + <p> + “That’s twenty-eight years ago; but I remember you, though you had not had + the small-pox in those days.” + </p> + <p> + I saw that he was annoyed by this remark, but it was his fault, as he had + no business to say where he had known me, or who his father was. + </p> + <p> + He was the son of a noble Venetian—a good-for-nothing in every sense + of the word. + </p> + <p> + When I met him at Florence he had just come from Madrid, where he had made + a lot of money by holding a bank at faro in the house of the Venetian + ambassador, Marco Zen. + </p> + <p> + I was glad to meet him, but I found out before the dinner was over that he + was completely devoid of education and the manners of a gentleman; but he + was well content with the one talent he possessed, namely, that of + correcting the freaks of fortune at games of chance. I did not wait to see + the onslaught of the cheats on the dupes, but took my leave while the + table was being made ready. + </p> + <p> + Such was my life during the seven months which I spent at Florence. + </p> + <p> + After this dinner I never saw Zen, or Medini, or Zanovitch, except by + chance in the public places. + </p> + <p> + Here I must recount some incidents which took place towards the middle of + December. + </p> + <p> + Lord Lincoln, a young man of eighteen, fell in love with a Venetian dancer + named Lamberti, who was a universal favourite. On every night when the + opera was given the young Englishman might be seen going to her camerino, + and everyone wondered why he did not visit her at her own house, where he + would be certain of a good welcome, for he was English, and therefore + rich, young, and handsome. I believe he was the only son of the Duke of + Newcastle. + </p> + <p> + Zanovitch marked him down, and in a short time had become an intimate + friend of the fair Lamberti. He then made up to Lord Lincoln, and took him + to the lady’s house, as a polite man takes a friend to see his mistress. + </p> + <p> + Madame Lamberti, who was in collusion with the rascal, was not niggardly + of her favours with the young Englishman. She received him every night to + supper with Zanovitch and Zen, who had been presented by the Sclav, either + because of his capital, or because Zanovitch was not so accomplished a + cheat. + </p> + <p> + For the first few nights they took care to let the young nobleman win. As + they played after supper, and Lord Lincoln followed the noble English + custom of drinking till he did not know his right hand from his left, he + was quite astonished on waking the next morning to find that luck had been + as kind to him as love. The trap was baited, the young lord nibbled, and, + as may be expected, was finally caught. + </p> + <p> + Zen won twelve thousand pounds of him, and Zanovitch lent him the money by + installments of three and four hundred louis at a time, as the Englishman + had promised his tutor not to play, on his word of honour. + </p> + <p> + Zanovitch won from Zen what Zen won from the lord, and so the game was + kept up till the young pigeon had lost the enormous sum of twelve thousand + guineas. + </p> + <p> + Lord Lincoln promised to pay three thousand guineas the next day, and + signed three bills of exchange for three thousand guineas each, payable in + six months, and drawn on his London banker. + </p> + <p> + I heard all about this from Lord Lincoln himself when we met at Bologna + three months later. + </p> + <p> + The next morning the little gaming party was the talk of Florence. Sasso + Sassi, the banker, had already paid Zanovitch six thousand sequins by my + lord’s orders. + </p> + <p> + Medini came to see me, furious at not having been asked to join the party, + while I congratulated myself on my absence. My surprise may be imagined, + when, a few days after, a person came up to my room, and ordered me to + leave Florence in three days and Tuscany in a week. + </p> + <p> + I was petrified, and called to my landlord to witness the unrighteous + order I had received. + </p> + <p> + It was December 28th. On the same date, three years before, I had received + orders to leave Barcelona in three days. + </p> + <p> + I dressed hastily and went to the magistrate to enquire the reason for my + exile, and on entering the room I found it was the same man who had + ordered me to leave Florence eleven years before. + </p> + <p> + I asked him to give me his reasons, and he replied coldly that such was + the will of his highness. + </p> + <p> + “But as his highness must have his reasons, it seems to me that I am + within my rights in enquiring what they are.” + </p> + <p> + “If you think so you had better betake yourself to the prince; I know + nothing about it. He left yesterday for Pisa, where he will stay three + days; you can go there.” + </p> + <p> + “Will he pay for my journey?” + </p> + <p> + “I should doubt it, but you can see for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not go to Pisa, but I will write to his highness if you will + promise to send on the letter.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do so immediately, for it is my duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; you shall have the letter before noon tomorrow, and before + day-break I shall be in the States of the Church.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s no need for you to hurry yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a very great hurry. I cannot breathe the air of a country where + liberty is unknown and the sovereign breaks his word; that is what I am + going to write to your master.” + </p> + <p> + As I was going out I met Medini, who had come on the same business as + myself. + </p> + <p> + I laughed, and informed him of the results of my interview, and how I had + been told to go to Pisa. + </p> + <p> + “What! have you been expelled, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you done?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I. Let us go to Pisa.” + </p> + <p> + “You can go if you like, but I shall leave Florence tonight.” + </p> + <p> + When I got home I told my landlord to get me a carriage and to order four + post-horses for nightfall, and I then wrote the following letter to the + grand duke: + </p> + <p> + “My Lord; The thunder which Jove has placed in your hands is only for the + guilty; in launching it at me you have done wrong. Seven months ago you + promised that I should remain unmolested so long as I obeyed the laws. I + have done so scrupulously, and your lordship has therefore broken your + word. I am merely writing to you to let you know that I forgive you, and + that I shall never give utterance to a word of complaint. Indeed I would + willingly forget the injury you have done me, if it were not necessary + that I should remember never to set foot in your realms again. The + magistrate tells me that I can go and see you at Pisa, but I fear such a + step would seem a hardy one to a prince, who should hear what a man has to + say before he condemns him, and not afterwards. + </p> + <p> + “I am, etc.” + </p> + <p> + When I had finished the letter I sent it to the magistrate, and then I + began my packing. + </p> + <p> + I was sitting down to dinner when Medini came in cursing Zen and + Zanovitch, whom he accused of being the authors of his misfortune, and of + refusing to give him a hundred sequins, without which he could not + possibly go. + </p> + <p> + “We are all going to Pisa,” said he, “and cannot imagine why you do not + come, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” I said, laughingly, “but please to leave me now as I have to + do my packing.” + </p> + <p> + As I expected, he wanted me to lend him some money, but on my giving him a + direct refusal he went away. + </p> + <p> + After dinner I took leave of M. Medici and Madame Dennis, the latter of + whom had heard the story already. She cursed the grand duke, saying she + could not imagine how he could confound the innocent with the guilty. She + informed me that Madame Lamberti had received orders to quit, as also a + hunchbacked Venetian priest, who used to go and see the dancer but had + never supped with her. In fact, there was a clean sweep of all the + Venetians in Florence. + </p> + <p> + As I was returning home I met Lord Lincoln’s governor; whom I had known at + Lausanne eleven years before. I told him of what had happened to me + through his hopeful pupil getting himself fleeced. He laughed, and told me + that the grand duke had advised Lord Lincoln not to pay the money he had + lost, to which the young man replied that if he were not to pay he should + be dishonoured since the money he had lost had been lent to him. + </p> + <p> + In leaving Florence I was cured of an unhappy love which would doubtless + have had fatal consequences if I had stayed on. I have spared my readers + the painful story because I cannot recall it to my mind even now without + being cut to the heart. The widow whom I loved, and to whom I was so weak + as to disclose my feelings, only attached me to her triumphal car to + humiliate me, for she disdained my love and myself. I persisted in my + courtship, and nothing but my enforced absence would have cured me. + </p> + <p> + As yet I have not learnt the truth of the maxim that old age, especially + when devoid of fortune, is not likely to prove attractive to youth. + </p> + <p> + I left Florence poorer by a hundred sequins than when I came there. I had + lived with the most careful economy throughout the whole of my stay. + </p> + <p> + I stopped at the first stage within the Pope’s dominions, and by the last + day but one of the year I was settled at Bologna, at “St. Mark’s Hotel.” + </p> + <p> + My first visit was paid to Count Marulli, the Florentine charge + d’affaires. I begged him to write and tell his master, that, out of + gratitude for my banishment, I should never cease to sing his praises. + </p> + <p> + As the count had received a letter containing an account of the whole + affair, he could not quite believe that I meant what I said. + </p> + <p> + “You may think what you like,” I observed, “but if you knew all you would + see that his highness has done me a very great service though quite + unintentionally.” + </p> + <p> + He promised to let his master know how I spoke of him. + </p> + <p> + On January 1st, 1772, I presented myself to Cardinal Braneaforte, the + Pope’s legate, whom I had known twenty years before at Paris, when he had + been sent by Benedict XVI. with the holy swaddling clothes for the + newly-born Duke of Burgundy. We had met at the Lodge of Freemasons, for + the members of the sacred college were by no means afraid of their own + anathemas. We had also some very pleasant little suppers with pretty + sinners in company with Don Francesco Sensate and Count Ranucci. In short, + the cardinal was a man of wit, and what is called a bon vivant. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, here you are!” cried he, when he saw me; “I was expecting you.” + </p> + <p> + “How could you, my lord? Why should I have come to Bologna rather than to + any other place?” + </p> + <p> + “For two reasons. In the first place because Bologna is better than many + other places, and besides I flatter myself you thought of me. But you + needn’t say anything here about the life we led together when we were + young men.” + </p> + <p> + “It has always been a pleasant recollection to me.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt. Count Marulli told me yesterday that you spoke very highly of + the grand duke, and you are quite right. You can talk to me in confidence; + the walls of this room have no ears. How much did you get of the twelve + thousand guineas?” + </p> + <p> + I told him the whole story, and shewed him a copy of the letter which I + had written to the grand duke. He laughed, and said he was sorry I had + been punished for nothing. + </p> + <p> + When he heard I thought of staying some months at Bologna he told me that + I might reckon on perfect freedom, and that as soon as the matter ceased + to become common talk he would give me open proof of his friendship. + </p> + <p> + After seeing the cardinal I resolved to continue at Bologna the kind of + life that I had been leading at Florence. Bologna is the freest town in + all Italy; commodities are cheap and good, and all the pleasures of life + may be had there at a low price. The town is a fine one, and the streets + are lined with arcades—a great comfort in so hot a place. + </p> + <p> + As to society, I did not trouble myself about it. I knew the Bolognese; + the nobles are proud, rude, and violent; the lowest orders, known as the + birichini, are worse than the lazzaroni of Naples, while the tradesmen and + the middle classes are generally speaking worthy and respectable people. + At Bologna, as at Naples, the two extremes of society are corrupt, while + the middle classes are respectable, and the depository of virtue, talents, + and learning. + </p> + <p> + However, my intention was to leave society alone, to pass my time in + study, and to make the acquaintance of a few men of letters, who are + easily accessible everywhere. + </p> + <p> + At Florence ignorance is the rule and learning the exception, while at + Bologna the tincture of letters is almost universal. The university has + thrice the usual number of professors; but they are all ill paid, and have + to get their living out of the students, who are numerous. Printing is + cheaper at Bologna than anywhere else, and though the Inquisition is + established there the press is almost entirely free. + </p> + <p> + All the exiles from Florence reached Bologna four or five days after + myself. Madame Lamberti only passed through on her way to Venice. + Zanovitch and Zen stayed five or six days; but they were no longer in + partnership, having quarreled over the sharing of the booty. + </p> + <p> + Zanovitch had refused to make one of Lord Lincoln’s bills of exchange + payable to Zen, because he did not wish to make himself liable in case the + Englishman refused to pay. He wanted to go to England, and told Zen he was + at liberty to do the same. + </p> + <p> + They went to Milan without having patched up their quarrel, but the + Milanese Government ordered them to leave Lombardy, and I never heard what + arrangements they finally came to. Later on I was informed that the + Englishman’s bills had all been settled to the uttermost farthing. + </p> + <p> + Medini, penniless as usual, had taken up his abode in the hotel where I + was staying, bringing with him his mistress, her sister, and her mother, + but with only one servant. He informed me that the grand duke had refused + to listen to any of them at Pisa, where he had received a second order to + leave Tuscany, and so had been obliged to sell everything. Of course he + wanted me to help him, but I turned a deaf ear to his entreaties. + </p> + <p> + I have never seen this adventurer without his being in a desperate state + of impecuniosity, but he would never learn to abate his luxurious habits, + and always managed to find some way or other out of his difficulties. He + was lucky enough to fall in with a Franciscan monk named De Dominis at + Bologna, the said monk being on his way to Rome to solicit a brief of + ‘laicisation’ from the Pope. He fell in love with Medini’s mistress, who + naturally made him pay dearly for her charms. + </p> + <p> + Medini left at the end of three weeks. He went to Germany, where he + printed his version of the “Henriade,” having discovered a Maecenas in the + person of the Elector Palatin. After that he wandered about Europe for + twelve years, and died in a London prison in 1788. + </p> + <p> + I had always warned him to give England a wide berth, as I felt certain + that if he once went there he would not escape English bolts and bars, and + that if he got on the wrong side of the prison doors he would never come + out alive. He despised my advice, and if he did so with the idea of + proving me a liar, he made a mistake, for he proved me to be a prophet. + </p> + <p> + Medini had the advantage of high birth, a good education, and + intelligence; but as he was a poor man with luxurious tastes he either + corrected fortune at play or went into debt, and was consequently obliged + to be always on the wing to avoid imprisonment. + </p> + <p> + He lived in this way for seventy years, and he might possibly be alive now + if he had followed my advice. + </p> + <p> + Eight years ago Count Torio told me that he had seen Medini in a London + prison, and that the silly fellow confessed he had only come to London + with the hope of proving me to be a liar. + </p> + <p> + Medini’s fate shall never prevent me from giving good advice to a poor + wretch on the brink of the precipice. Twenty years ago I told Cagliostro + (who called himself Count Pellegrini in those days) not to set his foot in + Rome, and if he had followed this counsel he would not have died miserably + in a Roman prison. + </p> + <p> + Thirty years ago a wise man advised me to beware visiting Spain. I went, + but, as the reader knows, I had no reason to congratulate myself on my + visit. + </p> + <p> + A week after my arrival at Bologna, happening to be in the shop of + Tartuffi, the bookseller, I made the acquaintance of a cross-eyed priest, + who struck me, after a quarter of an hour’s talk as a man of learning and + talent. He presented me with two works which had recently been issued by + two of the young professors at the university He told me that I should + find them amusing reading, and he was right. + </p> + <p> + The first treatise contended that women’s faults should be forgiven them, + since they were really the work of the matrix, which influenced them in + spite of themselves. The second treatise was a criticism of the first. The + author allowed that the uterus was an animal, but he denied the alleged + influence, as no anatomist had succeeded in discovering any communication + between it and the brain. + </p> + <p> + I determined to write a reply to the two pamphlets, and I did so in the + course of three days. When my reply was finished I sent it to M. Dandolo, + instructing him to have five hundred copies printed. When they arrived I + gave a bookseller the agency, and in a fortnight I had made a hundred + sequins. + </p> + <p> + The first pamphlet was called “Lutero Pensante,” the second was in French + and bore the title “La Force Vitale,” while I called my reply “Lana + Caprina.” I treated the matter in an easy vein, not without some hints of + deep learning, and made fun of the lucubrations of the two physicians. My + preface was in French, but full of Parisian idioms which rendered it + unintelligible to all who had not visited the gay capital, and this + circumstance gained me a good many friends amongst the younger generation. + </p> + <p> + The squinting priest, whose name was Zacchierdi, introduced me to the Abbe + Severini, who became my intimate friend in the course of ten or twelve + days. + </p> + <p> + This abbe made me leave the inn, and got me two pleasant rooms in the + house of a retired artiste, the widow of the tenor Carlani. He also made + arrangements with a pastrycook to send me my dinner and supper. All this, + plus a servant, only cost me ten sequins a month. + </p> + <p> + Severini was the agreeable cause of my losing temporarily my taste for + study. I put by my “Iliad,” feeling sure that I should be able to finish + it again. + </p> + <p> + Severini introduced me to his family, and before long I became very + intimate with him. I also became the favourite of his sister, a lady + rather plain than pretty, thirty years old, but full of intelligence. + </p> + <p> + In the course of Lent the abbe introduced me to all the best dancers and + operatic singers in Bologna, which is the nursery of the heroines of the + stage. They may be had cheaply enough on their native soil. + </p> + <p> + Every week the good abbe introduced me to a fresh one, and like a true + friend he watched carefully over my finances. He was a poor man himself, + and could not afford to contribute anything towards the expenses of our + little parties; but as they would have cost me double without his help, + the arrangement was a convenient one for both of us. + </p> + <p> + About this time there was a good deal of talk about a Bolognese nobleman, + Marquis Albergati Capacelli. He had made a present of his private theatre + to the public, and was himself an excellent actor. He had made himself + notorious by obtaining a divorce from his wife, whom he did not like, so + as to enable him to marry a dancer, by whom he had two children. The + amusing point in this divorce was that he obtained it on the plea that he + was impotent, and sustained his plea by submitting to an examination, + which was conducted as follows: + </p> + <p> + Four skilled and impartial judges had the marquis stripped before them, + and did all in their power to produce an erection; but somehow or other he + succeeded in maintaining his composure, and the marriage was pronounced + null and void on the ground of relative impotence, for it was well known + that he had had children by another woman. + </p> + <p> + If reason and not prejudice had been consulted, the procedure would have + been very different; for if relative impotence was considered a sufficient + ground for divorce, of what use was the examination? + </p> + <p> + The marquis should have sworn that he could do nothing with his wife, and + if the lady had traversed this statement the marquis might have challenged + her to put him into the required condition. + </p> + <p> + But the destruction of old customs and old prejudices is often the work of + long ages. + </p> + <p> + I felt curious to know this character, and wrote to M. Dandolo to get me a + letter of introduction to the marquis. + </p> + <p> + In a week my good old friend sent me the desired letter. It was written by + another Venetian, M. de Zaguri, an intimate friend of the marquis. + </p> + <p> + The letter was not sealed, so I read it. I was delighted; no one could + have commended a person unknown to himself but the friend of a friend in a + more delicate manner. + </p> + <p> + I thought myself bound to write a letter of thanks to M. Zaguri. I said + that I desired to obtain my pardon more than ever after reading his + letter, which made me long to go to Venice, and make the acquaintance of + such a worthy nobleman. + </p> + <p> + I did not expect an answer, but I got one. M. Zaguri said that my desire + was such a flattering one to himself, that he meant to do his best to + obtain my recall. + </p> + <p> + The reader will see that he was successful, but not till after two years + of continuous effort. + </p> + <p> + Albergati was away from Bologna at the time, but when he returned Severini + let me know, and I called at the palace. The porter told me that his + excellence (all the nobles are excellences at Bologna) had gone to his + country house, where he meant to pass the whole of the spring. + </p> + <p> + In two or three days I drove out to his villa. I arrived at a charming + mansion, and finding no one at the door I went upstairs, and entered a + large room where a gentleman and an exceedingly pretty woman were just + sitting down to dinner. The dishes had been brought in, and there were + only two places laid. + </p> + <p> + I made a polite bow, and asked the gentleman if I had the honour of + addressing the Marquis Albergati. He replied in the affirmative, whereupon + I gave him my letter of introduction. He took it, read the superscription, + and put it in his pocket, telling me I was very kind to have taken so much + trouble, and that he would be sure to read it. + </p> + <p> + “It has been no trouble at all,” I replied, “but I hope you will read the + letter. It is written by M. de Zaguri, whom I asked to do me this service, + as I have long desired to make your lordship’s acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + His lordship smiled and said very pleasantly that he would read it after + dinner, and would see what he could do for his friend Zaguri. + </p> + <p> + Our dialogue was over in a few seconds. Thinking him extremely rude I + turned my back and went downstairs, arriving just in time to prevent the + postillion taking out the horses. I promised him a double gratuity if he + would take me to some village at hand, where he could bait his horses + while I breakfasted. + </p> + <p> + Just as the postillion had got on horseback a servant came running up. He + told me very politely that his excellence begged me to step upstairs. + </p> + <p> + I put my hand in my pocket and gave the man my card with my name and + address, and telling him that that was what his master wanted, I ordered + the postillion to drive off at a full gallop. + </p> + <p> + When we had gone half a league we stopped at a good inn, and then + proceeded on our way back to Bologna. + </p> + <p> + The same day I wrote to M. de Zaguri, and described the welcome I had + received at the hands of the marquis. I enclosed the letter in another to + M. Dandolo, begging him to read it, and to send it on. I begged the noble + Venetian to write to the marquis that having offended me grievously he + must prepare to give me due satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + I laughed with all my heart next day when my landlady gave me a visiting + card with the inscription, General the Marquis of Albergati. She told me + the marquis had called on me himself, and on hearing I was out had left + his card. + </p> + <p> + I began to look upon the whole of his proceedings as pure gasconnade, only + lacking the wit of the true Gascon. I determined to await M. Zaguri’s + reply before making up my mind as to the kind of satisfaction I should + demand. + </p> + <p> + While I was inspecting the card, and wondering what right the marquis had + to the title of general, Severini came in, and informed me that the + marquis had been made a Knight of the Order of St. Stanislas by the King + of Poland, who had also given him the style of royal chamberlain. + </p> + <p> + “Is he a general in the Polish service as well?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I really don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand it all,” I said to myself. “In Poland a chamberlain has the + rank of adjutant-general, and the marquis calls himself general. But + general what? The adjective without a substantive is a mere cheat.” + </p> + <p> + I saw my opportunity, and wrote a comic dialogue, which I had printed the + next day. I made a present of the work to a bookseller, and in three or + four days he sold out the whole edition at a bajocco apiece. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0019" id="linkF2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Farinello and the Electress Dowager of Saxony—Madame + Slopitz—Nina—The Midwife—Madame Soavi—Abbe Bolini— + Madame Viscioletta—The Seamstress—The Sorry Pleasure of + Revenge—Severini Goes to Naples—My Departure—Marquis + Mosca +</pre> + <p> + Anyone who attacks a proud person in a comic vein is almost sure of + success; the laugh is generally on his side. + </p> + <p> + I asked in my dialogue whether it was lawful for a provost-marshal to call + himself simply marshal, and whether a lieutenant-colonel had a right to + the title of colonel. I also asked whether the man who preferred titles of + honour, for which he had paid in hard cash, to his ancient and legitimate + rank, could pass for a sage. + </p> + <p> + Of course the marquis had to laugh at my dialogue, but he was called the + general ever after. He had placed the royal arms of Poland over the gate + of his palace, much to the amusement of Count Mischinski, the Polish + ambassador to Berlin, who happened to be passing through Bologna at that + time. + </p> + <p> + I told the Pole of my dispute with the mad marquis, and persuaded him to + pay Albergati a visit, leaving his card. The ambassador did so, and the + call was returned, but Albergati’s cards no longer bore the title of + general. + </p> + <p> + The Dowager Electress of Saxony having come to Bologna, I hastened to pay + my respects to her. She had only come to see the famous castrato + Farinello, who had left Madrid, and now lived at Bologna in great comfort. + He placed a magnificent collation before the Electress, and sang a song of + his own composition, accompanying himself on the piano. The Electress, who + was an enthusiastic musician, embraced Farinello, exclaiming,— + </p> + <p> + “Now I can die happy.” + </p> + <p> + Farinello, who was also known as the Chevalier Borschi had reigned, as it + were, in Spain till the Parmese wife of Philip V. had laid plots which + obliged him to leave the Court after the disgrace of Enunada. The + Electress noticed a portrait of the queen, and spoke very highly of her, + mentioning some circumstances which must have taken place in the reign of + Ferdinand VI. + </p> + <p> + The famous musician burst into tears, and said that Queen Barbara was as + good as Elizabeth of Parma was wicked. + </p> + <p> + Borschi might have been seventy when I saw him at Bologna. He was very + rich and in the enjoyment of good health, and yet he was unhappy, + continually shedding tears at the thought of Spain. + </p> + <p> + Ambition is a more powerful passion than avarice. Besides, Farinello had + another reason for unhappiness. + </p> + <p> + He had a nephew who was the heir to all his wealth, whom he married to a + noble Tuscan lady, hoping to found a titled family, though in an indirect + kind of way. But this marriage was a torment to him, for in his impotent + old age he was so unfortunate as to fall in love with his niece, and to + become jealous of his nephew. Worse than all the lady grew to hate him, + and Farinello had sent his nephew abroad, while he never allowed the wife + to go out of his sight. + </p> + <p> + Lord Lincoln arrived in Bologna with an introduction for the cardinal + legate, who asked him to dinner, and did me the honour of giving me an + invitation to meet him. The cardinal was thus convinced that Lord Lincoln + and I had never met, and that the grand duke of Tuscany had committed a + great injustice in banishing me. It was on that occasion that the young + nobleman told me how they had spread the snare, though he denied that he + had been cheated; he was far too proud to acknowledge such a thing. He + died of debauchery in London three or four years after. + </p> + <p> + I also saw at Bologna the Englishman Aston with Madame Slopitz, sister of + the Charming Caillimena. Madame Slopitz was much handsomer than her sister. + She had presented Aston with two babes as beautiful as Raphael’s cherubs. + </p> + <p> + I spoke of her sister to her, and from the way in which I sang her praises + she guessed that I had loved her. She told me she would be in Florence + during the Carnival of 1773, but I did not see her again till the year + 1776, when I was at Venice. + </p> + <p> + The dreadful Nina Bergonci, who had made a madman of Count Ricla, and was + the source of all my woes at Barcelona, had come to Bologna at the + beginning of Lent, occupying a pleasant house which she had taken. She had + carte blanche with a banker, and kept up a great state, affirming herself + to be with child by the Viceroy of Catalonia, and demanding the honours + which would be given to a queen who had graciously chosen Bologna as the + place of her confinement. She had a special recommendation to the legate, + who often visited her, but in the greatest secrecy. + </p> + <p> + The time of her confinement approached, and the insane Ricla sent over a + confidential man, Don Martino, who was empowered to have the child + baptized, and to recognize it as Ricla’s natural offspring. + </p> + <p> + Nina made a show of her condition, appearing at the theatre and in the + public places with an enormous belly. The greatest noble of Bologna paid + court to her, and Nina told them that they might do so, but that she could + not guarantee their safety from the jealous dagger of Ricla. She was + impudent enough to tell them what happened to me at Barcelona, not knowing + that I was at Bologna. + </p> + <p> + She was extremely surprised to hear from Count Zini, who knew me, that I + inhabited the same town as herself. + </p> + <p> + When the count met me he asked me if the Barcelona story was true. I did + not care to take him into my confidence, so I replied that I did not know + Nina, and that the story had doubtless been made up by her to see whether + he would encounter danger for her sake. + </p> + <p> + When I met the cardinal I told him the whole story, and his eminence was + astonished when I gave him some insight into Nina’s character, and + informed him that she was the daughter of her sister and her grandfather. + </p> + <p> + “I could stake my life,” said I, “that Nina is no more with child than you + are.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come!” said he, laughing, “that is really too strong; why shouldn’t + she have a child? It is a very simple matter, it seems to me. Possibly it + may not be Ricla’s child but there can be no doubt that she is with + somebody’s child. What object could she have for feigning pregnancy?” + </p> + <p> + “To make herself famous by defiling the Count de Ricla, who was a model of + justice and virtue before knowing this Messalina. If your eminence knew + the hideous character of Nina you would not wonder at anything she did.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we shall see.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + About a week later I heard a great noise in the street, and on putting my + head out of the window I saw a woman stripped to the waist, and mounted on + an ass, being scourged by the hangman, and hooted by a mob of all the + biricchini in Bologna. Severini came up at the same moment and informed me + that the woman was the chief midwife in Bologna, and that her punishment + had been ordered by the cardinal archbishop. + </p> + <p> + “It must be for some great crime,” I observed. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt. It is the woman who was with Nina the day before yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “What! has Nina been brought to bed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but of a still-born child.” + </p> + <p> + “I see it all.” + </p> + <p> + Next day the story was all over the town. + </p> + <p> + A poor woman had come before the archbishop, and had complained bitterly + that the midwife Teresa had seduced her, promising to give her twenty + sequins if she would give her a fine boy to whom she had given birth a + fortnight ago. She was not given the sum agreed upon, and in her despair + at hearing of the death of her child she begged for justice, declaring + herself able to prove that the dead child said to be Nina’s was in reality + her own. + </p> + <p> + The archbishop ordered his chancellor to enquire into the affair with the + utmost secrecy, and then proceed to instant and summary execution. + </p> + <p> + A week after this scandal Don Martino returned to Barcelona; but Nina + remained as impudent as ever, doubled the size of the red cockades which + she made her servants wear, and swore that Spain would avenge her on the + insolent archbishop. She remained at Bologna six weeks longer, pretending + to be still suffering from the effects of her confinement. The cardinal + legate, who was ashamed of having had anything to do with such an + abandoned prostitute, did his best to have her ordered to leave. + </p> + <p> + Count Ricla, a dupe to the last, gave her a considerable yearly income on + the condition that she should never come to Barcelona again; but in a year + the count died. + </p> + <p> + Nina did not survive him for more than a year, and died miserably from her + fearful debauchery. I met her mother and sister at Venice, and she told me + the story of the last two years of her daughter’s life; but it is so sad + and so disgusting a tale that I feel obliged to omit it. + </p> + <p> + As for the infamous midwife, she found powerful friends. + </p> + <p> + A pamphlet appeared in which the anonymous author declared that the + archbishop had committed a great wrong in punishing a citizen in so + shameful a manner without any of the proper formalities of justice. The + writer maintained that even if she were guilty she had been unjustly + punished, and should appeal to Rome. + </p> + <p> + The prelate, feeling the force of these animadversions, circulated a + pamphlet in which it appeared that the midwife had made three prior + appearances before the judge, and that she would have been sent to the + gallows long ago if the archbishop had not hesitated to shame three of the + noblest families in Bologna, whose names appeared in documents in the + custody of his chancellor. + </p> + <p> + Her crimes were procuring abortion and killing erring mothers, + substituting the living for the dead, and in one case a boy for a girl, + thus giving him the enjoyment of property which did not belong to him. + </p> + <p> + This pamphlet of the prelate reduced the patrons of the infamous midwife + to silence, for several young noblemen whose mothers had been attended by + her did not relish the idea of their family secrets being brought to + light. + </p> + <p> + At Bologna I saw Madame Marucci, who had been expelled from Spain for the + same reason as Madame Pelliccia. The latter had retired to Rome, while + Madame Marucci was on her way to Lucca, her native country. + </p> + <p> + Madame Soavi, a Bolognese dancer whom I had known at Parma and Paris, came + to Bologna with her daughter by M. de Marigni. The girl, whose name was + Adelaide, was very beautiful, and her natural abilities had been fostered + by a careful education. + </p> + <p> + When Madame Soavi got to Bologna she met her husband whom she had not seen + for fifteen years. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a treasure for you,” said she, shewing him her daughter. + </p> + <p> + “She’s certainly very pretty, but what am I to do with her? She does not + belong to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes she does, as I have given her to you. You must know that she has six + thousand francs a year, and that I shall be her cashier till I get her + married to a good dancer. I want her to learn character dancing, and to + make her appearance on the boards. You must take her out on holidays.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall I say if people ask me who she is?” + </p> + <p> + “Say she is your daughter, and that you are certain, because your wife + gave her to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t see that.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you have always stayed at home, and consequently your wits are + homely.” + </p> + <p> + I heard this curious dialogue which made me laugh then, and makes me laugh + now as I write it. I offered to help in Adelaide’s education, but Madame + Soavi laughed, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Fox, you have deceived so many tender pullets, that I don’t like to trust + you with this one, for fear of your making her too precocious.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not think of that, but you are right.” + </p> + <p> + Adelaide became the wonder of Bologna. + </p> + <p> + A year after I left the Comte du Barri, brother-in-law of the famous + mistress of Louis XV., visited Bologna, and became so amorous of Adelaide + that her mother sent her away, fearing he would carry her off. + </p> + <p> + Du Barri offered her a hundred thousand francs for the girl, but she + refused the offer. + </p> + <p> + I saw Adelaide five years later on the boards of a Venetian theatre. When + I went to congratulate her, she said,— + </p> + <p> + “My mother brought me into the world, and I think she will send me out of + it; this dancing is killing me.” + </p> + <p> + In point of fact this delicate flower faded and died after seven years of + the severe life to which her mother had exposed her. + </p> + <p> + Madame Soavi who had not taken the precaution to settle the six thousand + francs on herself, lost all in losing Adelaide, and died miserably after + having rolled in riches. But, alas! I am not the man to reproach anyone on + the score of imprudence. + </p> + <p> + At Bologna I met the famous Afflisio, who had been discharged from the + imperial service and had turned manager. He went from bad to worse, and + five or six years later committed forgery, was sent to the galleys, and + there died. + </p> + <p> + I was also impressed by the example of a man of a good family, who had + once been rich. This was Count Filomarino. He was living in great misery, + deprived of the use of all his limbs by a succession of venereal + complaints. I often went to see him to give him a few pieces of money, and + to listen to his malevolent talk, for his tongue was the only member that + continued active. He was a scoundrel and a slanderer, and writhed under + the thought that he could not go to Naples and torment his relations, who + were in reality respectable people, but monsters according to his shewing. + </p> + <p> + Madame Sabatini, the dancer, had returned to Bologna, having made enough + money to rest upon her laurels. She married a professor of anatomy, and + brought all her wealth to him as a dower. She had with her her sister, who + was not rich and had no talents, but was at the same time very agreeable. + </p> + <p> + At the house I met an abbe, a fine young man of modest appearance. The + sister seemed to be deeply in love with him, while he appeared to be + grateful and nothing more. + </p> + <p> + I made some remark to the modest Adonis, and he gave me a very sensible + answer. We walked away together, and after telling each other what brought + us to Bologna we parted, agreeing to meet again. + </p> + <p> + The abbe, who was twenty-four or twenty-five years old, was not in orders, + and was the only son of a noble family of Novara, which was unfortunately + poor as well as noble. + </p> + <p> + He had a very scanty revenue, and was able to live more cheaply at Bologna + than Novara, where everything is dear. Besides, he did not care for his + relations; he had no friends, and everybody there was more or less + ignorant. + </p> + <p> + The Abbe de Bolini, as he was called, was a man of tranquil mind, living a + peaceful and quiet life above all things. He liked lettered men more than + letters, and did not trouble to gain the reputation of a wit. He knew he + was not a fool, and when he mixed with learned men he was quite clever + enough to be a good listener. + </p> + <p> + Both temperament and his purse made him temperate in all things, and he + had received a sound Christian education. He never talked about religion, + but nothing scandalized him. He seldom praised and never blamed. + </p> + <p> + He was almost entirely indifferent to women, flying from ugly women and + blue stockings, and gratifying the passion of pretty ones more out of + kindliness than love, for in his heart he considered women as more likely + to make a man miserable than happy. I was especially interested in this + last characteristic. + </p> + <p> + We had been friends for three weeks when I took the liberty of asking him + how he reconciled his theories with his attachment to Brigida Sabatini. + </p> + <p> + He supped with her every evening, and she breakfasted with him every + morning. When I went to see him, she was either there already or came in + before my call was over. She breathed forth love in every glance, while + the abbe was kind, but, in spite of his politeness, evidently bored. + </p> + <p> + Brigida looked well enough, but she was at least ten years older than the + abbe. She was very polite to me and did her best to convince me that the + abbe was happy in the possession of her heart, and that they both enjoyed + the delights of mutual love. + </p> + <p> + But when I asked him over a bottle of good wine about his affection for + Brigida, he sighed, smiled, blushed, looked down, and finally confessed + that this connection was the misfortune of his life. + </p> + <p> + “Misfortune? Does she make you sigh in vain? If so you should leave her, + and thus regain your happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I sigh? I am not in love with her. She is in love with me, and + tries to make me her slave.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “She wants me to marry her, and I promised to do so, partly from weakness, + and partly from pity; and now she is in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “I daresay; all these elderly girls are in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “Every evening she treats me to tears, supplications, and despair. She + summons me to keep my promise, and accuses me of deceiving her, so you may + imagine that my situation is an unhappy one.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any obligations towards her?” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever. She has violated me, so to speak, for all the advances + came from her. She has only what her sister gives her from day to day, and + if she got married she would not get that.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you got her with child?” + </p> + <p> + “I have taken good care not to do so, and that’s what has irritated her; + she calls all my little stratagems detestable treason.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, you have made up your mind to marry her sooner or later?” + </p> + <p> + “I’d as soon hang myself. If I got married to her I should be four times + as poor as I am now, and all my relations at Novara would laugh at me for + bringing home a wife of her age. Besides, she is neither rich nor well + born, and at Novara they demand the one or the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Then as a man of honour and as a man of sense, you ought to break with + her, and the sooner the better.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but lacking normal strength what am I to do? If I did not go and + sup with her to-night, she would infallibly come after me to see what had + happened. I can’t lock my door in her face, and I can’t tell her to go + away.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but neither can I go on in this miserable way. + </p> + <p> + “You must make up your mind, and cut the Gordian knot, like Alexander.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t his sword.” + </p> + <p> + “I will lend it you.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me. You must go and live in another town. She will hardly go + after you there, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a very good plan, but flight is a difficult matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Difficult? Not at all. Do you promise to do what I tell you, and I will + arrange everything quite comfortably. Your mistress will not know anything + about it till she misses you at supper.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do whatever you tell me, and I shall never forget your kindness; + but Brigida will go mad with grief.” + </p> + <p> + “Well my first order to you is not to give her grief a single thought. You + have only to leave everything to me. Would you like to start to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Have you any debts?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want any money?” + </p> + <p> + “I have sufficient. But the idea of leaving tomorrow has taken my breath + away. I must have three days delay.” + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” + </p> + <p> + “I expect some letters the day after to-morrow, and I must write to my + relations to tell them where I am going.” + </p> + <p> + “I will take charge of your letters and send them on to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Where shall I be?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you at the moment of your departure; trust in me. I will send + you at once where you will be comfortable. All you have to do is to leave + your trunk in the hands of your landlord, with orders not to give it up to + anyone but myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. I am to go without my trunk, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You must dine with me every day till you go, and mind not to tell + anyone whatsoever that you intend leaving Bologna.” + </p> + <p> + “I will take care not to do so.” + </p> + <p> + The worthy young fellow looked quite radiant. I embraced him and thanked + him for putting so much trust in me. + </p> + <p> + I felt proud at the good work I was about to perform, and smiled at the + thought of Brigida’s anger when she found that her lover had escaped. I + wrote to my good friend Dandolo that in five or six days a young abbe + would present himself before him bearing a letter from myself. I begged + Dandolo to get him a comfortable and cheap lodging, as my friend was so + unfortunate as to be indifferently provided with money, though an + excellent man. I then wrote the letter of which the abbe was to be the + bearer. + </p> + <p> + Next day Bolini told me that Brigida was far from suspecting his flight, + as owing to his gaiety at the thought of freedom he had contented her so + well during the night she had passed with him that she thought him as much + in love as she was. + </p> + <p> + “She has all my linen,” he added, “but I hope to get a good part of it + back under one pretext or another, and she is welcome to the rest.” + </p> + <p> + On the day appointed he called on me as we had arranged the night before, + carrying a huge carpet bag containing necessaries. I took him to Modena in + a post chaise, and there we dined; afterward I gave him a letter for M. + Dandolo, promising to send on his trunk the next day. + </p> + <p> + He was delighted to hear that Venice was his destination, as he had long + wished to go there, and I promised him that M. Dandolo should see that he + lived as comfortably and cheaply as he had done at Bologna. + </p> + <p> + I saw him off, and returned to Bologna. The trunk I dispatched after him + the following day. + </p> + <p> + As I had expected, the poor victim appeared before me all in tears the + next day. I felt it my duty to pity her; it would have been cruel to + pretend I did not know the reason for her despair. I gave her a long but + kindly sermon, endeavouring to persuade her that I had acted for the best + in preventing the abbe marrying her, as such a step would have plunged + them both into misery. + </p> + <p> + The poor woman threw herself weeping at my feet, begging me to bring her + abbe back, and swearing by all the saints that she would never mention the + word “marriage” again. By way of calming her, I said I would do my best to + win him over. + </p> + <p> + She asked where he was, and I said at Venice; but of course she did not + believe me. There are circumstances when a clever man deceives by telling + the truth, and such a lie as this must be approved by the most rigorous + moralists. + </p> + <p> + Twenty-seven months later I met Bolini at Venice. I shall describe the + meeting in its proper place. + </p> + <p> + A few days after he had gone, I made the acquaintance of the fair + Viscioletta, and fell so ardently in love with her that I had to make up + my mind to buy her with hard cash. The time when I could make women fall + in love with me was no more, and I had to make up my mind either to do + without them or to buy them. + </p> + <p> + I cannot help laughing when people ask me for advice, as I feel so certain + that my advice will not be taken. Man is an animal that has to learn his + lesson by hard experience in battling with the storms of life. Thus the + world is always in disorder and always ignorant, for those who know are + always in an infinitesimal proportion to the whole. + </p> + <p> + Madame Viscioletta, whom I went to see every day, treated me as the + Florentine widow had done, though the widow required forms and ceremonies + which I could dispense with in the presence of the fair Viscioletta, who + was nothing else than a professional courtezan, though she called herself + a virtuosa. + </p> + <p> + I had besieged her for three weeks without any success, and when I made + any attempts she repulsed me laughingly. + </p> + <p> + Monsignor Buoncompagni, the vice-legate, was her lover in secret, though + all the town knew it, but this sort of conventional secrecy is common + enough in Italy. As as ecclesiastic he could not court her openly, but the + hussy made no mystery whatever of his visits. + </p> + <p> + Being in need of money, and preferring to get rid of my carriage than of + anything else, I announced it for sale at the price of three hundred and + fifty Roman crowns. It was a comfortable and handsome carriage, and was + well worth the price. I was told that the vice-legate offered three + hundred crowns, and I felt a real pleasure in contradicting my favoured + rival’s desires. I told the man that I had stated my price and meant to + adhere to it, as I was not accustomed to bargaining. + </p> + <p> + I went to see my carriage at noon one day to make sure that it was in good + condition, and met the vice-legate who knew me from meeting me at the + legate’s, and must have been aware that I was poaching on his preserves. + He told me rudely that the carriage was not worth more than three hundred + crowns, and that I ought to be glad of the opportunity of getting rid of + it, as it was much too good for me. + </p> + <p> + I had the strength of mind to despise his violence, and telling him dryly + that I did not chaffer I turned my back on him and went my way. + </p> + <p> + Next day the fair Viscioletta wrote me a note to the effect that she would + be very much obliged if I would let the vice-legate have the carriage at + his own price, as she felt sure he would give it to her. I replied that I + would call on her in the afternoon, and that my answer would depend on my + welcome, I went in due course, and after a lively discussion, she gave + way, and I signified my willingness to sell the carriage for the sum + offered by the vice-legate. + </p> + <p> + The next day she had her carriage, and I had my three hundred crowns, and + I let the proud prelate understand that I had avenged myself for his + rudeness. + </p> + <p> + About this time Severini succeeded in obtaining a position as tutor in an + illustrious Neapolitan family, and as soon as he received his + journey-money he left Bologna. I also had thoughts of leaving the town. + </p> + <p> + I had kept up an interesting correspondence with M. Zaguri, who had made + up his mind to obtain my recall in concert with Dandolo, who desired + nothing better. Zaguri told me that if I wanted to obtain my pardon I must + come and live as near as possible to the Venetian borders, so that the + State Inquisitors might satisfy themselves of my good conduct. M. Zuliani, + brother to the Duchess of Fiano, gave me the same advice, and promised to + use all his interest in my behalf. + </p> + <p> + With the idea of following this counsel I decided to set up my abode at + Trieste, where M. Zaguri told me he had an intimate friend to whom he + would give me a letter of introduction. As I could not go by land without + passing through the States of Venice I resolved to go to Ancona, whence + boats sail to Trieste every day. As I should pass through Pesaro I asked + my patron to give me a letter for the Marquis Mosca, a distinguished man + of letters whom I had long wished to know. Just then he was a good deal + talked about on account of a treatise on alms which he had recently + published, and which the Roman curia had placed on the “Index.” + </p> + <p> + The marquis was a devotee as well as a man of learning, and was imbued + with the doctrine of St. Augustine, which becomes Jansenism if pushed to + an extreme point. + </p> + <p> + I was sorry to leave Bologna, for I had spent eight pleasant months there. + In two days I arrived at Pesaro in perfect health and well provided for in + every way. + </p> + <p> + I left my letter with the marquis, and he came to see me the same day. He + said his house would always be open to me, and that he would leave me in + his wife’s hands to be introduced to everybody and everything in the + place. He ended by asking me to dine with him the following day, adding + that if I cared to examine his library he could give me an excellent cup + of chocolate. + </p> + <p> + I went, and saw an enormous collection of comments on the Latin poets from + Ennius to the poets of the twelfth century of our era. He had had them all + printed at his own expense and at his private press, in four tall folios, + very accurately printed but without elegance. I told him my opinion, and + he agreed that I was right. + </p> + <p> + The want of elegance which had spared him an outlay of a hundred thousand + francs had deprived him of a profit of three hundred thousand. + </p> + <p> + He presented me with a copy, which he sent to my inn, with an immense + folio volume entitled “Marmora Pisaurentia,” which I had no time to + examine. + </p> + <p> + I was much pleased with the marchioness, who had three daughters and two + sons, all good-looking and well bred. + </p> + <p> + The marchioness was a woman of the world, while her husband’s interests + were confined to his books. This difference in disposition sometimes gave + rise to a slight element of discord, but a stranger would never have + noticed it if he had not been told. + </p> + <p> + Fifty years ago a wise man said to me: “Every family is troubled by some + small tragedy, which should be kept private with the greatest care. In + fine, people should learn to wash their dirty linen in private.” + </p> + <p> + The marchioness paid me great attention during the five days I spent at + Pesaro. In the day she drove me from one country house to another, and at + night she introduced me to all the nobility of the town. + </p> + <p> + The marquis might have been fifty then. He was cold by temperament, had no + other passion but that of study, and his morals were pure. He had founded + an academy of which he was the president. Its design was a fly, in + allusion to his name Mosca, with the words ‘de me ce’, that is to say, + take away ‘c’ from ‘musca’ and you have ‘musa’. + </p> + <p> + His only failing was that which the monks regard as his finest quality, he + was religious to excess, and this excess of religion went beyond the + bounds where ‘nequit consistere rectum’. + </p> + <p> + But which is the better, to go beyond these bounds, or not to come up to + them? I cannot venture to decide the question. Horace says,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Nulla est mihi religio!” + </pre> + <p> + and it is the beginning of an ode in which he condemns philosophy for + estranging him from religion. + </p> + <p> + Excess of every kind is bad. + </p> + <p> + I left Pesaro delighted with the good company I had met, and only sorry I + had not seen the marquis’s brother who was praised by everyone. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0020" id="linkF2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A Jew Named Mardocheus Becomes My Travelling Companion— + He Persuades Me to Lodge in His House—I Fall in Love With His + Daughter Leah—After a Stay of Six Weeks I Go to Trieste +</pre> + <p> + Some time elapsed before I had time to examine the Marquis of Mosca’s + collection of Latin poets, amongst which the ‘Priapeia’ found no place. + </p> + <p> + No doubt this work bore witness to his love for literature but not to his + learning, for there was nothing of his own in it. All he had done was to + classify each fragment in chronological order. I should have liked to see + notes, comments, explanations, and such like; but there was nothing of the + kind. Besides, the type was not elegant, the margins were poor, the paper + common, and misprints not infrequent. All these are bad faults, especially + in a work which should have become a classic. Consequently, the book was + not a profitable one; and as the marquis was not a rich man he was + occasionally reproached by his wife for the money he had expended. + </p> + <p> + I read his treatise on almsgiving and his apology for it, and understood a + good deal of the marquis’s way of thinking. I could easily imagine that + his writings must have given great offence at Rome, and that with sounder + judgment he would have avoided this danger. Of course the marquis was + really in the right, but in theology one is only in the right when Rome + says yes. + </p> + <p> + The marquis was a rigorist, and though he had a tincture of Jansenism he + often differed from St. Augustine. + </p> + <p> + He denied, for instance, that almsgiving could annul the penalty attached + to sin, and according to him the only sort of almsgiving which had any + merit was that prescribed in the Gospel: “Let not thy right hand know what + thy left hand doeth.” + </p> + <p> + He even maintained that he who gave alms sinned unless it was done with + the greatest secrecy, for alms given in public are sure to be accompanied + by vanity. + </p> + <p> + It might have been objected that the merit of alms lies in the intention + with which they are given. It is quite possible for a good man to slip a + piece of money into the palm of some miserable being standing in a public + place, and yet this may be done solely with the idea of relieving distress + without a thought of the onlookers. + </p> + <p> + As I wanted to go to Trieste, I might have crossed the gulf by a small + boat from Pesaro; a good wind was blowing, and I should have got to + Trieste in twelve hours. This was my proper way, for I had nothing to do + at Ancona, and it was a hundred miles longer; but I had said I would go by + Ancona, and I felt obliged to do so. + </p> + <p> + I had always a strong tincture of superstition, which has exercised + considerable influence on my strange career. + </p> + <p> + Like Socrates I, too, had a demon to whom I referred my doubtful counsels, + doing his will, and obeying blindly when I felt a voice within me telling + me to forbear. + </p> + <p> + A hundred times have I thus followed my genius, and occasionally I have + felt inclined to complain that it did not impel me to act against my + reason more frequently. Whenever I did so I found that impulse was right + and reason wrong, and for all that I have still continued reasoning. + </p> + <p> + When I arrived at Senegallia, at three stages from Ancona, my vetturino + asked me, just as I was going to bed, whether I would allow him to + accommodate a Jew who was going to Ancona in the chaise. + </p> + <p> + My first impulse made me answer sharply that I wanted no one in my chaise, + much less a Jew. + </p> + <p> + The vetturino went out, but a voice said within me, “You must take this + poor Israelite;” and in spite of my repugnance I called back the man and + signified my assent. + </p> + <p> + “Then you must make up your mind to start at an earlier hour, for it is + Friday to-morrow, and you know the Jews are not allowed to travel after + sunset.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not start a moment earlier than I intended, but you can make your + horses travel as quickly as you like.” + </p> + <p> + He gave me no answer, and went out. The next morning I found my Jew, an + honest-looking fellow, in the carriage. The first thing he asked me was + why I did not like Jews. + </p> + <p> + “Because your religion teaches you to hate men of all other religions, + especially Christians, and you think you have done a meritorious action + when you have deceived us. You do not look upon us as brothers. You are + usurious, unmerciful, our enemies, and so I do not like you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken, sir. Come with me to our synagogue this evening, and + you will hear us pray for all Christians, beginning with our Lord the + Pope.” + </p> + <p> + I could not help bursting into a roar of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “True,” I replied, “but the prayer comes from the mouth only, and not from + the heart. If you do not immediately confess that the Jews would not pray + for the Christians if they were the masters, I will fling you out of the + chaise.” + </p> + <p> + Of course I did not carry out this threat, but I completed his confusion + by quoting in Hebrew the passages in the Old Testament, where the Jews are + bidden to do all possible harm to the Gentiles, whom they were to curse + every day. + </p> + <p> + After this the poor man said no more. When we were going to take our + dinner I asked him to sit beside me, but he said his religion would not + allow him to do so, and that he would only eat eggs, fruit, and some + foiegras sausage he had in his pocket. He only drank water because he was + not sure that the wine was unadulterated. + </p> + <p> + “You stupid fellow,” I exclaimed, “how can you ever be certain of the + purity of wine unless you have made it yourself?” + </p> + <p> + When we were on our way again he said that if I liked to come and stay + with him, and to content myself with such dishes as God had not forbidden, + he would make me more comfortable than if I went to the inn, and at a + cheaper rate. + </p> + <p> + “Then you let lodgings to Christians?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t let lodgings to anybody, but I will make an exception in your + case to disabuse you of some of your mistaken notions. I will only ask you + six paoli a day, and give you two good meals without wine.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must give me fish and wine, I paying for them as extras.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; I have a Christian cook, and my wife pays a good deal of + attention to the cooking.” + </p> + <p> + “You can give me the foie gras every day, if you will eat it with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I know what you think, but you shall be satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + I got down at the Jew’s house, wondering at myself as I did so. However, I + knew that if I did not like my accommodation I could leave the next day. + </p> + <p> + His wife and children were waiting for him, and gave him a joyful welcome + in honour of the Sabbath. All servile work was forbidden on this day holy + to the Lord; and all over the house, and in the face of all the family, I + observed a kind of festal air. + </p> + <p> + I was welcomed like a brother, and I replied as best I could; but a word + from Mardocheus (so he was called) changed their politeness of feeling + into a politeness of interest. + </p> + <p> + Mardocheus shewed me two rooms for me to choose the one which suited me, + but liking them both I said I would take the two for another paolo a day, + with which arrangement he was well enough pleased. + </p> + <p> + Mardocheus told his wife what we had settled, and she instructed the + Christian servant to cook my supper for me. + </p> + <p> + I had my effects taken upstairs, and then went with Mardocheus to the + synagogue. + </p> + <p> + During the short service the Jews paid no attention to me or to several + other Christians who were present. The Jews go to the synagogue to pray, + and in this respect I think their conduct worthy of imitation by the + Christians. + </p> + <p> + On leaving the synagogue I went by myself to the Exchange, thinking over + the happy time which would never return. + </p> + <p> + It was in Ancona that I had begun to enjoy life; and when I thought it + over, it was quite a shock to find that this was thirty years ago, for + thirty years is a long period in a man’s life. And yet I felt quite happy, + in spite of the tenth lustrum so near at hand for me. + </p> + <p> + What a difference I found between my youth and my middle age! I could + scarcely recognize myself. I was then happy, but now unhappy; then all the + world was before me, and the future seemed a gorgeous dream, and now I was + obliged to confess that my life had been all in vain. I might live twenty + years more, but I felt that the happy time was passed away, and the future + seemed all dreary. + </p> + <p> + I reckoned up my forty-seven years, and saw fortune fly away. This in + itself was enough to sadden me, for without the favours of the fickle + goddess life was not worth living, for me at all events. + </p> + <p> + My object, then, was to return to my country; it was as if I struggled to + undo all that I had done. All I could hope for was to soften the hardships + of the slow but certain passage to the grave. + </p> + <p> + These are the thoughts of declining years and not of youth. The young man + looks only to the present, believes that the sky will always smile upon + him, and laughs at philosophy as it vainly preaches of old age, misery, + repentance, and, worst of all, abhorred death. + </p> + <p> + Such were my thoughts twenty-six years ago; what must they be now, when I + am all alone, poor, despised, and impotent. They would kill me if I did + not resolutely subdue them, for whether for good or ill my heart is still + young. Of what use are desires when one can no longer satisfy them? I + write to kill ennui, and I take a pleasure in writing. Whether I write + sense or nonsense, what matters? I am amused, and that is enough. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Malo scriptor delirus, inersque videri, + Dum mea delectent mala me vel denique fallunt, + Quam sapere.’ +</pre> + <p> + When I came back I found Mardocheus at supper with his numerous family, + composed of eleven or twelve individuals, and including his mother—an + old woman of ninety, who looked very well. I noticed another Jew of middle + age; he was the husband of his eldest daughter, who did not strike me as + pretty; but the younger daughter, who was destined for a Jew of Pesaro, + whom she had never seen, engaged all my attention. I remarked to her that + if she had not seen her future husband she could not be in love with him, + whereupon she replied in a serious voice that it was not necessary to be + in love before one married. The old woman praised the girl for this + sentiment, and said she had not been in love with her husband till the + first child was born. + </p> + <p> + I shall call the pretty Jewess Leah, as I have good reasons for not using + her real name. + </p> + <p> + While they were enjoying their meal I sat down beside her and tried to + make myself as agreeable as possible, but she would not even look at me. + </p> + <p> + My supper was excellent, and my bed very comfortable. + </p> + <p> + The next day my landlord told me that I could give my linen to the maid, + and that Leah could get it up for me. + </p> + <p> + I told him I had relished my supper, but that I should like the foie gras + every day as I had a dispensation. + </p> + <p> + “You shall have some to-morrow, but Leah is the only one of us who eats + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then Leah must take it with me, and you can tell her that I shall give + her some Cyprus wine which is perfectly pure.” + </p> + <p> + I had no wine, but I went for it the same morning to the Venetian consul, + giving him M. Dandolo’s letter. + </p> + <p> + The consul was a Venetian of the old leaven. He had heard my name, and + seemed delighted to make my acquaintance. He was a kind of clown without + the paint, fond of a joke, a regular gourmand, and a man of great + experience. He sold me some Scopolo and old Cyprus Muscat, but he began to + exclaim when he heard where I was lodging, and how I had come there. + </p> + <p> + “He is rich,” he said, “but he is also a great usurer, and if you borrow + money of him he will make you repent it.” + </p> + <p> + After informing the consul that I should not leave till the end of the + month, I went home to dinner, which proved excellent. + </p> + <p> + The next day I gave out my linen to the maid, and Leah came to ask me how + I liked my lace got up. + </p> + <p> + If Leah had examined me more closely she would have seen that the sight of + her magnificent breast, unprotected by any kerchief, had had a remarkable + effect on me. + </p> + <p> + I told her that I left it all to her, and that she could do what she liked + with the linen. + </p> + <p> + “Then it will all come under my hands if you are in no hurry to go.” + </p> + <p> + “You can make me stay as long as you like,” said I; but she seemed not to + hear this declaration. + </p> + <p> + “Everything is quite right,” I continued, “except the chocolate; I like it + well frothed.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will make it for you myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will give out a double quantity, and we will take it together.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t like chocolate.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to hear that; but you like foie gras?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do; and from what father tells me I am going to take some with you + to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you are afraid of being poisoned?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all; I only wish we could die together.” + </p> + <p> + She pretended not to understand, and left me burning with desire. I felt + that I must either obtain possession of her or tell her father not to send + her into my room any more. + </p> + <p> + The Turin Jewess had given me some valuable hints as to the conduct of + amours with Jewish girls. + </p> + <p> + My theory was that Leah would be more easily won than she, for at Ancona + there was much more liberty than at Turin. + </p> + <p> + This was a rake’s reasoning, but even rakes are mistaken sometimes. + </p> + <p> + The dinner that was served to me was very good, though cooked in the + Jewish style, and Leah brought in the foie gras and sat down opposite to + me with a muslin kerchief over her breast. + </p> + <p> + The foie gras was excellent, and we washed it down with copious libations + of Scopolo, which Leah found very much to her taste. + </p> + <p> + When the foie gras was finished she got up, but I stopped her, for the + dinner was only half over. + </p> + <p> + “I will stay then,” said she, “but I am afraid my father will object.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. Call your master,” I said to the maid who came in at that + moment, “I have a word to speak to him.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mardocheus,” I said when he came, “your daughter’s appetite + doubles mine, and I shall be much obliged if you will allow her to keep me + company whenever we have foie gras.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t to my profit to double your appetite, but if you like to pay + double I shall have no objection.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, that arrangement will suit me.” + </p> + <p> + In evidence of my satisfaction I gave him a bottle of Scopolo, which Leah + guaranteed pure. + </p> + <p> + We dined together, and seeing that the wine was making her mirthful I told + her that her eyes were inflaming me and that she must let me kiss them. + </p> + <p> + “My duty obliges me to say nay. No kissing and no touching; we have only + got to eat and drink together, and I shall like it as much as you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are cruel.” + </p> + <p> + “I am wholly dependent on my father.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I ask your father to give you leave to be kind?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think that would be proper, and my father might be offended and + not allow me to see you any more.” + </p> + <p> + “And supposing he told you not to be scrupulous about trifles?” + </p> + <p> + “Then I should despise him and continue to do my duty.” + </p> + <p> + So clear a declaration shewed me that if I persevered in this intrigue I + might go on for ever without success. I also bethought me that I ran a + risk of neglecting my chief business, which would not allow me to stay + long in Ancona. + </p> + <p> + I said nothing more to Leah just then, and when the dessert came in I gave + her some Cyprus wine, which she declared was the most delicious nectar she + had ever tasted. + </p> + <p> + I saw that the wine was heating her, and it seemed incredible to me that + Bacchus should reign without Venus; but she had a hard head, her blood was + hot and her brain cool. + </p> + <p> + However, I tried to seize her hand and kiss it, but she drew it away, + saying pleasantly,— + </p> + <p> + “It’s too much for honour and too little for love.” + </p> + <p> + This witty remark amused me, and it also let me know that she was not + exactly a neophyte. + </p> + <p> + I determined to postpone matters till the next day, and told her not to + get me any supper as I was supping with the Venetian consul. + </p> + <p> + The consul had told me that he did not dine, but that he would always be + delighted to see me at supper. + </p> + <p> + It was midnight when I came home, and everyone was asleep except the maid + who let me in. I gave her such a gratuity that she must have wished me to + keep late hours for the rest of my stay. + </p> + <p> + I proceeded to sound her about Leah, but she told me nothing but good. If + she was to be believed, Leah was a good girl, always at work, loved by + all, and fancy free. The maid could not have praised her better if she had + been paid to do so. + </p> + <p> + In the morning Leah brought the chocolate and sat down on my bed, saying + that we should have some fine foie gras, and that she should have all the + better appetite for dinner as she had not taken any supper. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you take any supper?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it was because of your excellent Cyprus wine, to which my + father has taken a great liking.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! he like it? We will give him some.” + </p> + <p> + Leah was in a state of undress as before, and the sight of her + half-covered spheres drove me to distraction. + </p> + <p> + “Are you not aware that you have a beautiful breast?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I thought all young girls were just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you no suspicion that the sight is a very pleasant one for me?” + </p> + <p> + “If that be so, I am very glad, for I have nothing to be ashamed of, for a + girl has no call to hide her throat any more than her face, unless she is + in grand company.” + </p> + <p> + As she was speaking, Leah looked at a golden heart transfixed with an + arrow and set with small diamonds which served me as a shirt stud. + </p> + <p> + “Do you like the little heart?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Very much. Is it pure gold?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, and that being so I think I may offer it to you.” + </p> + <p> + So saying I took it off, but she thanked me politely, and said that a girl + who gave nothing must take nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Take it; I will never ask any favour of you.” + </p> + <p> + “But I should be indebted to you, and that’s the reason why I never take + anything.” + </p> + <p> + I saw that there was nothing to be done, or rather that it would be + necessary to do too much to do anything, and that in any case the best + plan would be to give her up. + </p> + <p> + I put aside all thoughts of violence, which would only anger her or make + her laugh at me. I should either have been degraded, or rendered more + amorous, and all for nothing. If she had taken offense she would not have + come to see me any more, and I should have had nought to complain of. In + fine I made up my mind to restrain myself, and indulge no more in amorous + talk. + </p> + <p> + We dined very pleasantly together. The servant brought in some shell-fish, + which are forbidden by the Mosaic Law. While the maid was in the room I + asked Leah to take some, and she refused indignantly; but directly the + girl was gone she took some of her own accord and ate them eagerly, + assuring me that it was the first time she had had the pleasure of tasting + shellfish. + </p> + <p> + “This girl,” I said to myself, “who breaks the law of her religion with + such levity, who likes pleasure and does not conceal it, this is the girl + who wants to make me believe that she is insensible to the pleasures of + love; that’s impossible, though she may not love me. She must have some + secret means of satisfying her passions, which in my opinion are very + violent. We will see what can be done this evening with the help of a + bottle of good Muscat.” + </p> + <p> + However, when the evening came, she said she could not drink or eat + anything, as a meal always prevented her sleeping. + </p> + <p> + The next day she brought me my chocolate, but her beautiful breast was + covered with a white kerchief. She sat down on the bed as usual, and I + observed in a melancholy manner that she had only covered her breast + because I had said I took a pleasure in seeing it. + </p> + <p> + She replied that she had not thought of anything, and had only put on her + kerchief because she had had no time to fasten her stays. + </p> + <p> + “You are whole right,” I said, smilingly, “for if I were to see the whole + breast I might not think it beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + She gave no answer, and I finished my chocolate. + </p> + <p> + I recollected my collection of obscene pictures, and I begged Leah to give + me the box, telling her that I would shew her some of the most beautiful + breasts in the world. + </p> + <p> + “I shan’t care to see them,” said she; but she gave me the box, and sat + down on my bed as before. + </p> + <p> + I took out a picture of a naked woman lying on her back and abusing + herself, and covering up the lower part of it I shewed it to Leah. + </p> + <p> + “But her breast is like any other,” said Leah. + </p> + <p> + “Take away your handkerchief.” + </p> + <p> + “Take it back; it’s disgusting. It’s well enough done,” she added, with a + burst of laughter, “but it’s no novelty for me.” + </p> + <p> + “No novelty for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not; every girl does like that before she gets married.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you do it, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Whenever I want to.” + </p> + <p> + “Do it now.” + </p> + <p> + “A well-bred girl always does it in private.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do you do after?” + </p> + <p> + “If I am in bed I go to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Leah, your sincerity is too much for me. Either be kind or visit + me no more.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very weak, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, because I am strong.” + </p> + <p> + “Then henceforth we shall only meet at dinner. But shew me some more + miniatures.” + </p> + <p> + “I have some pictures which you will not like.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see them.” + </p> + <p> + I gave her Arentin’s figures, and was astonished to see how coolly she + examined them, passing from one to the other in the most commonplace way. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think them interesting?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, very; they are so natural. But a good girl should not look at such + pictures; anyone must be aware that these voluptuous attitudes excite + one’s emotions.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you, Leah, and I feel it as much as you. Look here!” + </p> + <p> + She smiled and took the book away to the window, turning her back towards + me without taking any notice of my appeal. + </p> + <p> + I had to cool down and dress myself, and when the hairdresser arrived Leah + went away, saying she would return me my book at dinner. + </p> + <p> + I was delighted, thinking I was sure of victory either that day or the + next, but I was out of my reckoning. + </p> + <p> + We dined well and drank better. At dessert Leah took the book out of her + pocket and set me all on fire by asking me to explain some of the pictures + but forbidding all practical demonstration. + </p> + <p> + I went out impatiently, determined to wait till next morning. + </p> + <p> + When the cruel Jewess came in the morning she told me that she wanted + explanations, but that I must use the pictures and nothing more as a + demonstration of my remarks. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” I replied, “but you must answer all my questions as to your + sex.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise to do so, if they arise naturally from the pictures.” + </p> + <p> + The lesson lasted two hours, and a hundred times did I curse Aretin and my + folly in shewing her his designs, for whenever I made the slightest + attempt the pitiless woman threatened to leave me. But the information she + gave me about her own sex was a perfect torment to me. She told me the + most lascivious details, and explained with the utmost minuteness the + different external and internal movements which would be developed in the + copulations pictured by Aretin. I thought it quite impossible that she + could be reasoning from theory alone. She was not troubled by the + slightest tincture of modesty, but philosophized on coition as coolly and + much more learnedly than Hedvig. I would willingly have given her all I + possessed to crown her science by the performance of the great work. She + swore it was all pure theory with her, and I thought she must be speaking + the truth when she said she wanted to get married to see if her notions + were right or wrong. She looked pensive when I told her that the husband + destined for her might be unable to discharge his connubial duties more + than once a week. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say,” said she, “that one man is not as good as another?” + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Are not all men able to make love every day, and every hour, just as they + eat, drink and sleep every day?” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear Leah, they that can make love every day are very scarce.” + </p> + <p> + In my state of chronic irritation I felt much annoyed that there was no + decent place at Ancona where a man might appease his passions for his + money. I trembled to think that I was in danger of falling really in love + with Leah, and I told the consul every day that I was in no hurry to go. I + was as foolish as a boy in his calf-love. I pictured Leah as the purest of + women, for with strong passions she refused to gratify them. I saw in her + a model of virtue; she was all self-restraint and purity, resisting + temptation in spite of the fire that consumed her. + </p> + <p> + Before long the reader will discover how very virtuous Leah was. + </p> + <p> + After nine or ten days I had recourse to violence, not in deeds but in + words. She confessed I was in the right, and said my best plan would be to + forbid her to come and see me in the morning. At dinner, according to her, + there would be no risk. + </p> + <p> + I made up my mind to ask her to continue her visits, but to cover her + breast and avoid all amorous conversation. + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart,” she replied, laughing; “but be sure I shall not be + the first to break the conditions.” + </p> + <p> + I felt no inclination to break them either, for three days later I felt + weary of the situation, and told the consul I would start on the first + opportunity. My passion for Leah was spoiling my appetite, and I thus saw + myself deprived of my secondary pleasure without any prospect of gaining + my primary enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + After what I had said to the consul I felt I should be bound to go, and I + went to bed calmly enough. But about two o’clock in the morning I had, + contrary to my usual habit, to get up and offer sacrifice to Cloacina. I + left my room without any candle, as I knew my way well enough about the + house. + </p> + <p> + The temple of the goddess was on the ground floor, but as I had put on my + soft slippers, and walked very softly, my footsteps did not make the least + noise. + </p> + <p> + On my way upstairs I saw a light shining through a chink in the door of a + room which I knew to be unoccupied. I crept softly up, not dreaming for a + moment that Leah could be there at such an hour. But on putting my eye to + the chink I found I could see a bed, and on it were Leah and a young man, + both stark naked, and occupied in working out Aretin’s postures to the + best of their ability. They were whispering to one another, and every four + or five minutes I had the pleasure of seeing a new posture. These changes + of position gave me a view of all the beauties of Leah, and this pleasure + was something to set against my rage in having taken such a profligate + creature for a virtuous woman. + </p> + <p> + Every time they approached the completion of the great work they stopped + short, and completed what they were doing with their hands. + </p> + <p> + When they were doing the Straight Tree, to my mind the most lascivious of + them all, Leah behaved like a true Lesbian; for while the young man + excited her amorous fury she got hold of his instrument and took it + between her lips till the work was complete. I could not doubt that she + had swallowed the vital fluid of my fortunate rival. + </p> + <p> + The Adonis then shewed her the feeble instrument, and Leah seemed to + regret what she had done. Before long she began to excite him again; but + the fellow looked at his watch, pushed her away, and began to put on his + shirt. + </p> + <p> + Leah seemed angry, and I could see that she reproached him for some time + before she began to dress. + </p> + <p> + When they were nearly clothed I softly returned to my room and looked out + of a window commanding the house-door. I had not to wait long before I saw + the fortunate lover going out. + </p> + <p> + I went to bed indignant with Leah; I felt myself degraded. She was no + longer virtuous, but a villainous prostitute in my eyes; and I fell to + sleep with the firm resolve of driving her from my room the next morning, + after shaming her with the story of the scene I had witnessed. But, alas, + hasty and angry resolves can seldom withstand a few hours’ sleep. As soon + as I saw Leah coming in with my chocolate, smiling and gay as usual, I + told her quite coolly all the exploits I had seen her executing, laying + particular stress on the Straight Tree, and the curious liquid she had + swallowed. I ended by saying that I hoped she would give me the next + night, both to crown my love and insure my secrecy. + </p> + <p> + She answered with perfect calm that I had nothing to expect from her as + she did not love me, and as for keeping the secret she defied me to + disclose it. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you would not be guilty of such a disgraceful action,” said + she. + </p> + <p> + With these words she turned her back on me and went out. + </p> + <p> + I could not help confessing to myself that she was in the right; I could + not bring myself to commit such a baseness. She had made me reasonable in + a few words: + </p> + <p> + “I don’t love you.” There was no reply to this, and I felt I had no claim + on her. + </p> + <p> + Rather it was she who might complain of me; what right had I to spy over + her? I could not accuse her of deceiving me; she was free to do what she + liked with herself. My best course was clearly to be silent. + </p> + <p> + I dressed myself hastily, and went to the Exchange, where I heard that a + vessel was sailing for Fiume the same day. + </p> + <p> + Fiume is just opposite Ancona on the other side of the gulf. From Fiume to + Trieste the distance is forty miles, and I decided to go by that route. + </p> + <p> + I went aboard the ship and took the best place, said good-bye to the + consul, paid Mardocheus, and packed my trunks. + </p> + <p> + Leah heard that I was going the same day, and came and told me that she + could not give me back my lace and my silk stockings that day, but that I + could have them by the next day. + </p> + <p> + “Your father,” I replied coolly, “will hand them all over to the Venetian + consul, who will send them to me at Trieste.” + </p> + <p> + Just as I was sitting down to dinner, the captain of the boat came for my + luggage with a sailor. I told him he could have my trunk, and that I would + bring the rest aboard whenever he liked to go. + </p> + <p> + “I intend setting out an hour before dusk.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be ready.” + </p> + <p> + When Mardocheus heard where I was going he begged me to take charge of a + small box and a letter he wanted to send to a friend. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted to do you this small service.” + </p> + <p> + At dinner Leah sat down with me and chattered as usual, without troubling + herself about my monosyllabic answers. + </p> + <p> + I supposed she wished me to credit her with calm confidence and + philosophy, while I looked upon it all as brazen impudence. + </p> + <p> + I hated and despised her. She had inflamed my passions, told me to my face + she did not love me, and seemed to claim my respect through it all. + Possibly she expected me to be grateful for her remark that she believed + me incapable of betraying her to her father. + </p> + <p> + As she drank my Scopolo she said there were several bottles left, as well + as some Muscat. + </p> + <p> + “I make you a present of it all,” I replied, “it will prime you up for + your nocturnal orgies.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled and said I had had a gratuitous sight of a spectacle which was + worth money, and that if I were not going so suddenly she would gladly + have given me another opportunity. + </p> + <p> + This piece of impudence made me want to break the wine bottle on her head. + She must have known what I was going to do from the way I took it up, but + she did not waver for a moment. This coolness of hers prevented my + committing a crime. + </p> + <p> + I contented myself with saying that she was the most impudent slut I had + ever met, and I poured the wine into my glass with a shaking hand, as if + that were the purpose for which I had taken up the bottle. + </p> + <p> + After this scene I got up and went into the next room; nevertheless, in + half an hour she came to take coffee with me. + </p> + <p> + This persistence of hers disgusted me, but I calmed myself by the + reflection that her conduct must be dictated by vengeance. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to help you to pack,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “And I should like to be left alone,” I replied; and taking her by the arm + I led her out of the room and locked the door after her. + </p> + <p> + We were both of us in the right. Leah had deceived and humiliated me, and + I had reason to detest her, while I had discovered her for a monster of + hypocrisy and immodesty, and this was good cause for her to dislike me. + </p> + <p> + Towards evening two sailors came after the rest of the luggage, and + thanking my hostess I told Leah to put up my linen, and to give it to her + father, who had taken the box of which I was to be the bearer down to the + vessel. + </p> + <p> + We set sail with a fair wind, and I thought never to set face on Leah + again. But fate had ordered otherwise. + </p> + <p> + We had gone twenty miles with a good wind in our quarter, by which we were + borne gently from wave to wave, when all of a sudden there fell a dead + calm. + </p> + <p> + These rapid changes are common enough in the Adriatic, especially in the + part we were in. + </p> + <p> + The calm lasted but a short time, and a stiff wind from the + west-north-west began to blow, with the result that the sea became very + rough, and I was very ill. + </p> + <p> + At midnight the storm had become dangerous. The captain told me that if we + persisted in going in the wind’s eye we should be wrecked, and that the + only thing to be done was to return to Ancona. + </p> + <p> + In less than three hours we made the harbour, and the officer of the guard + having recognized me kindly allowed me to land. + </p> + <p> + While I was talking to the officer the sailors took my trunks, and carried + them to my old lodgings without waiting to ask my leave. + </p> + <p> + I was vexed. I wanted to avoid Leah, and I had intended to sleep at the + nearest inn. However, there was no help for it. When I arrived the Jew got + up, and said he was delighted to see me again. + </p> + <p> + It was past three o’clock in the morning, and I felt very ill, so I said I + would not get up till late, and that I would dine in my bed without any + foie gras. I slept ten hours, and when I awoke I felt hungry and rang my + bell. + </p> + <p> + The maid answered and said that she would have the honour of waiting on + me, as Leah had a violent headache. + </p> + <p> + I made no answer, thanking Providence for delivering me from this impudent + and dangerous woman. + </p> + <p> + Having found my dinner rather spare I told the cook to get me a good + supper. + </p> + <p> + The weather was dreadful. The Venetian consul had heard of my return, and + not having seen me concluded I was ill, and paid me a two hours’ visit. He + assured me the storm would last for a week at least. I was very sorry to + hear it; in the first place, because I did not want to see any more of + Leah, and in the second, because I had not got any money. Luckily I had + got valuable effects, so this second consideration did not trouble me + much. + </p> + <p> + As I did not see Leah at supper-time I imagined that she was feigning + illness to avoid meeting me, and I felt very much obliged to her on this + account. As it appeared, however, I was entirely mistaken in my + conjectures. + </p> + <p> + The next day she came to ask for chocolate in her usual way, but she no + longer bore upon her features her old tranquillity of expression. + </p> + <p> + “I will take coffee, mademoiselle,” I observed; “and as I do not want foie + gras any longer, I will take dinner by myself. Consequently, you may tell + your father that I shall only pay seven paoli a day. In future I shall + only drink Orvieto wine.” + </p> + <p> + “You have still four bottles of Scopolo and Cyprus.” + </p> + <p> + “I never take back a present; the wine belongs to you. I shall be obliged + by your leaving me alone as much as possible, as your conduct is enough to + irritate Socrates, and I am not Socrates. Besides, the very sight of you + is disagreeable to me. Your body may be beautiful, but knowing that the + soul within is a monster it charms me no longer. You may be very sure that + the sailors brought my luggage here without my orders, or else you would + never have seen me here again, where I dread being poisoned every day.” + </p> + <p> + Leah went out without giving me any answer, and I felt certain that after + my plain-spoken discourse she would take care not to trouble me again. + </p> + <p> + Experience had taught me that girls like Leah are not uncommon. I had + known specimens at Spa, Genoa, London, and at Venice, but this Jewess was + the worst I had ever met. + </p> + <p> + It was Saturday. When Mardocheus came back from the synagogue he asked me + gaily why I had mortified his daughter, as she had declared she had done + nothing to offend me. + </p> + <p> + “I have not mortified her, my dear Mardocheus, or at all events, such was + not my intention; but as I have put myself on diet, I shall be eating no + more foie gras, and consequently I shall dine by myself, and save three + paoli a day.” + </p> + <p> + “Leah is quite ready to pay me out of her private purse, and she wants to + dine with you to assure you against being poisoned, as she informs me that + you have expressed that fear.” + </p> + <p> + “That was only a jest; I am perfectly aware that I am in the house of an + honest man. I don’t want your daughter to pay for herself, and to prove + that I am not actuated by feelings of economy, you shall dine with me too. + To offer to pay for me is an impertinence on her part. In fine, I will + either dine by myself and pay you seven pawls a day, or I will pay you + thirteen, and have both father and daughter to dine with me.” + </p> + <p> + The worthy Mardocheus went away, saying that he really could not allow me + to dine by myself. + </p> + <p> + At dinner-time I talked only to Mardocheus, without glancing at Leah or + paying any attention to the witty sallies she uttered to attract me. I + only drank Orvieto. + </p> + <p> + At dessert Leah filled my glass with Scopolo, saying that if I did not + drink it neither would she. + </p> + <p> + I replied, without looking at her, that I advised her only to drink water + for the future, and that I wanted nothing at her hands. + </p> + <p> + Mardocheus, who liked wine, laughed and said I was right, and drank for + three. + </p> + <p> + The weather continued bad, and I spent the rest of the day in writing, and + after supper I retired and went to sleep. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I was aroused by a slight noise. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” said I. + </p> + <p> + I heard Leah’s voice, whispering in reply, + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis I; I have not come to disturb you, but to justify myself.” + </p> + <p> + So saying she lay down on the bed, but on the outside of the coverlet. + </p> + <p> + I was pleased with this extraordinary visit, for my sole desire was for + vengeance, and I felt certain of being able to resist all her arts. I + therefore told her politely enough that I considered her as already + justified and that I should be obliged by her leaving me as I wanted to go + to sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Not before you have heard what I have to say.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on; I am listening to you.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon she began a discourse which I did not interrupt, and which + lasted for a good hour. + </p> + <p> + She spoke very artfully, and after confessing she had done wrong she said + that at my age I should have been ready to overlook the follies of a young + and passionate girl. According to her it was all weakness, and pardonable + at such an age. + </p> + <p> + “I swear I love you,” said she, “and I would have given you good proof + before now if I had not been so unfortunate as to love the young Christian + you saw with me, while he does not care for me in the least; indeed I have + to pay him. + </p> + <p> + “In spite of my passion,” she continued, “I have never given him what a + girl can give but once. I had not seen him for six months, and it was your + fault that I sent for him, for you inflamed me with your pictures and + strong wines.” + </p> + <p> + The end of it all was that I ought to forget everything, and treat her + kindly during the few days I was to remain there. + </p> + <p> + When she finished I did not allow myself to make any objection. I + pretended to be convinced, assuring her that I felt I had been in the + wrong in letting her see Aretin’s figures, and that I would no longer + evince any resentment towards her. + </p> + <p> + As her explanation did not seem likely to end in the way she wished, she + went on talking about the weakness of the flesh, the strength of self-love + which often hushes the voice of passion, etc., etc.; her aim being to + persuade me that she loved me, and that her refusals had all been given + with the idea of making my love the stronger. + </p> + <p> + No doubt I might have given her a great many answers, but I said nothing. + I made up my mind to await the assault that I saw was impending, and then + by refusing all her advances I reckoned on abasing her to the uttermost. + Nevertheless, she made no motion; her hands were at rest, and she kept her + face at a due distance from mine. + </p> + <p> + At last, tired out with the struggle, she left me pretending to be + perfectly satisfied with what she had done. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she had gone, I congratulated myself on the fact that she had + confined herself to verbal persuasion; for if she had gone further she + would probably have achieved a complete victory, though we were in the + dark. + </p> + <p> + I must mention that before she left me I had to promise to allow her to + make my chocolate as usual. + </p> + <p> + Early the next morning she came for the stick of chocolate. She was in a + complete state of negligee, and came in on tiptoe, though if she chose to + look towards the bed she might have seen that I was wide awake. + </p> + <p> + I marked her artifices and her cunning, and resolved to be equal to all + her wiles. When she brought the chocolate I noticed that there were two + cups on the tray, and I said,— + </p> + <p> + “Then it is not true that you don’t like chocolate?” + </p> + <p> + “I feel obliged to relieve you of all fear of being poisoned.” + </p> + <p> + I noticed that she was now dressed with the utmost decency, while half an + hour before she had only her chemise and petticoat her neck being + perfectly bare. The more resolved she seemed to gain the victory, the more + firmly I was determined to humiliate her, as it appeared to me the only + other alternative would have been my shame and dishonour; and this turned + me to stone. + </p> + <p> + In spite of my resolves, Leah renewed the attack at dinner, for, contrary + to my orders, she served a magnificent foie gras, telling me that it was + for herself, and that if she were poisoned she would die of pleasure; + Mardocheus said he should like to die too, and began regaling himself on + it with evident relish. + </p> + <p> + I could not help laughing, and announced my wish to taste the deadly food, + and so we all of us were eating it. + </p> + <p> + “Your resolves are not strong enough to withstand seduction,” said Leah. + This remark piqued me, and I answered that she was imprudent to disclose + her designs in such a manner, and that she would find my resolves strong + enough when the time came. + </p> + <p> + A faint smile played about her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Try if you like,” I said, “to persuade me to drink some Scopolo or + Muscat. I meant to have taken some, but your taunt has turned me to steel. + I mean to prove that when I make up my mind I never alter it.” + </p> + <p> + “The strong-minded man never gives way,” said Leah, “but the good-hearted + man often lets himself be overpersuaded.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so, and the good-hearted girl refrains from taunting a man for his + weakness for her.” + </p> + <p> + I called the maid and told her to go to the Venetian consul’s and get me + some more Scopolo and Muscat. Leah piqued me once more by saying + enthusiastically,— + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you are the most good-hearted of men as well as the firmest.” + Mardocheus, who could not make out what we meant, ate, drank, and laughed, + and seemed pleased with everything. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon I went out to a cafe in spite of the dreadful weather. I + thought over Leah and her designs, feeling certain that she would pay me + another nocturnal visit and renew the assault in force. I resolved to + weaken myself with some common woman, if I could find one at all + supportable. + </p> + <p> + A Greek who had taken me to a disgusting place a few days before, + conducted me to another where he introduced me to a painted horror of a + woman from whose very sight I fled in terror. + </p> + <p> + I felt angry that in a town like Ancona a man of some delicacy could not + get his money’s worth for his money, and went home, supped by myself, and + locked the door after me. + </p> + <p> + The precaution, however, was useless. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes after I had shut the door, Leah knocked on the pretext that + I had forgotten to give her the chocolate. + </p> + <p> + I opened the door and gave it her, and she begged me not to lock myself + in, as she wanted to have an important and final interview. + </p> + <p> + “You can tell me now what you want to say.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it will take some time, and I should not like to come till everyone + is asleep. You have nothing to be afraid of; you are lord of yourself. You + can go to bed in peace.” + </p> + <p> + “I have certainly nothing to be afraid of, and to prove it to you I will + leave the door open.” + </p> + <p> + I felt more than ever certain of victory, and resolved not to blow out the + candles, as my doing so might be interpreted into a confession of fear. + Besides, the light would render my triumph and her humiliation more + complete. With these thoughts I went to bed. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o’clock a slight noise told me that my hour had come. I saw Leah + enter my room in her chemise and a light petticoat. She locked my door + softly, and when I cried, “Well; what do you want with me?” she let her + chemise and petticoat drop, and lay down beside me in a state of nature. + </p> + <p> + I was too much astonished to repulse her. + </p> + <p> + Leah was sure of victory, and without a word she threw herself upon me, + pressing her lips to mine, and depriving me of all my faculties except + one. + </p> + <p> + I utilised a short moment of reflection by concluding that I was a + presumptuous fool, and that Leah was a woman with a most extensive + knowledge of human nature. + </p> + <p> + In a second my caress became as ardent as hers, and after kissing her + spheres of rose and alabaster I penetrated to the sanctuary of love, + which, much to my astonishment, I found to be a virgin citadel. + </p> + <p> + There was a short silence, and then I said,— + </p> + <p> + “Dearest Leah, you oblige me to adore you; why did you first inspire me + with hate? Are you not come here merely to humiliate me, to obtain an + empty victory? If so, I forgive you; but you are in the wrong, for, + believe me, enjoyment is sweeter far than vengeance.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I have not come to achieve a shameful victory, but to give myself to + you without reserve, to render you my conqueror and my king. Prove your + love by making me happy, break down the barrier which I kept intact, + despite its fragility and my ardour, and if this sacrifice does not + convince you of my affection you must be the worst of men.” + </p> + <p> + I had never heard more energetic opinions, and I had never seen a more + voluptuous sight. I began the work, and while Leah aided me to the best of + her ability, I forced the gate, and on Leah’s face I read the most acute + pain and pleasure mingled. In the first ecstasy of delight I felt her + tremble in every limb. + </p> + <p> + As for me, my enjoyment was quite new; I was twenty again, but I had the + self-restraint of my age, and treated Leah with delicacy, holding her in + my arms till three o’clock in the morning. When I left her she was + inundated and exhausted with pleasure, while I could do no more. + </p> + <p> + She left me full of gratitude, carrying the soaking linen away with her. I + slept on till twelve o’clock. + </p> + <p> + When I awoke and saw her standing by my bedside with the gentle love of + the day after the wedding, the idea of my approaching departure saddened + me. I told her so, and she begged me to stay on as long as I could. I + repeated that we would arrange everything when we met again at night. + </p> + <p> + We had a delicious dinner, for Mardocheus was bent on convincing me that + he was no miser. + </p> + <p> + I spent the afternoon with the consul, and arranged that I should go on a + Neapolitan man-of-war which was in quarantine at the time, and was to sail + for Trieste. + </p> + <p> + As I should be obliged to pass another month at Ancona, I blessed the + storm that had driven me back. + </p> + <p> + I gave the consul the gold snuff-box with which the Elector of Cologne had + presented me, keeping the portrait as a memento. Three days later he + handed me forty gold sequins, which was ample for my needs. + </p> + <p> + My stay in Ancona was costing me dear; but when I told Mardocheus that I + should not be going for another month he declared he would no longer feed + at my expense. Of course I did not insist. Leah still dined with me. + </p> + <p> + It has always been my opinion, though perhaps I may be mistaken, that the + Jew was perfectly well aware of my relations with his daughter. Jews are + usually very liberal on this article, possibly because they count on the + child being an Israelite. + </p> + <p> + I took care that my dear Leah should have no reason to repent of our + connection. How grateful and affectionate she was when I told her that I + meant to stay another month! How she blessed the bad weather which had + driven me back. We slept together every night, not excepting those nights + forbidden by the laws of Moses. + </p> + <p> + I gave her the little gold heart, which might be worth ten sequins, but + that would be no reward for the care she had taken of my linen. She also + made me accept some splendid Indian handkerchiefs. Six years later I met + her again at Pesaro. + </p> + <p> + I left Ancona on November 14th, and on the 15th I was at Trieste. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0021" id="linkF2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Pittoni—Zaguri—The Procurator Morosini—The Venetian + Consul—Gorice—The French Consul—Madame Leo—My Devotion + to The State Inquisitors—Strasoldo—Madame Cragnoline— + General Burghausen +</pre> + <p> + The landlord asked me my name, we made our agreement, and I found myself + very comfortably lodged. Next day I went to the post-office and found + several letters which had been awaiting me for the last month. I opened + one from M. Dandolo, and found an open enclosure from the patrician Marco + Dona, addressed to Baron Pittoni, Chief of Police. On reading it, I found + I was very warmly commended to the baron. I hastened to call on him, and + gave him the letter, which he took but did not read. He told me that M. + Dona had written to him about me, and that he would be delighted to do + anything in his power for me. + </p> + <p> + I then took Mardocheus’s letter to his friend Moses Levi. I had not the + slightest idea that the letter had any reference to myself, so I gave it + to the first clerk that I saw in the office. + </p> + <p> + Levi was an honest and an agreeable man, and the next day he called on me + and offered me his services in the most cordial manner. He shewed me the + letter I had delivered, and I was delighted to find that it referred to + myself. The worthy Mardocheus begged him to give me a hundred sequins in + case I needed any money, adding that any politeness shewn to me would be + as if shewn to himself. + </p> + <p> + This behaviour on the part of Mardocheus filled me with gratitude, and + reconciled me, so to speak, with the whole Jewish nation. I wrote him a + letter of thanks, offering to serve him at Venice in any way I could. + </p> + <p> + I could not help comparing the cordiality of Levi’s welcome with the + formal and ceremonious reception of Baron Pittoni. The baron was ten or + twelve years younger than I. He was a man of parts, and quite devoid of + prejudice. A sworn foe of ‘meum and tuum’, and wholly incapable of + economy, he left the whole care of his house to his valet, who robbed him, + but the baron knew it and made no objection. He was a determined bachelor, + a gallant, and the friend and patron of libertines. His chief defect was + his forgetfulness and absence of mind, which made him mismanage important + business. + </p> + <p> + He was reputed, though wrongly, to be a liar. A liar is a person who tells + falsehoods intentionally, while if Pittoni told lies it was because he had + forgotten the truth. We became good friends in the course of a month, and + we have remained friends to this day. + </p> + <p> + I wrote to my friends at Venice, announcing my arrival at Trieste, and for + the next ten days I kept my room, busied in putting together the notes I + had made on Polish events since the death of Elizabeth Petrovna. I meant + to write a history of the troubles of unhappy Poland up to its + dismemberment, which was taking place at the epoch in which I was writing. + </p> + <p> + I had foreseen all this when the Polish Diet recognized the dying czarina + as Empress of all the Russians, and the Elector of Brandenburg as King of + Prussia, and I proceeded with my history; but only the first three volumes + were published, owing to the printers breaking the agreement. + </p> + <p> + The four last volumes will be found in manuscript after my death, and + anyone who likes may publish them. But I have become indifferent to all + this as to many other matters since I have seen Folly crowned king of the + earth. + </p> + <p> + To-day there is no such country as Poland, but it might still be in + existence if it had not been for the ambition of the Czartoryski family, + whose pride had been humiliated by Count Bruhl, the prime minister. To + gain vengeance Prince Augustus Czartoryski ruined his country. He was so + blinded by passion that he forgot that all actions have their inevitable + results. + </p> + <p> + Czartoryski had determined not only to exclude the House of Saxony from + the succession, but to dethrone the member of that family who was + reigning. To do this the help of the Czarina and of the Elector of + Brandenburg was necessary, so he made the Polish Diet acknowledge the one + as Empress of all the Russians, and the other as King of Prussia. The two + sovereigns would not treat with the Polish Commonwealth till this claim + had been satisfied; but the Commonwealth should never have granted these + titles, for Poland itself possessed most of the Russias, and was the true + sovereign of Prussia, the Elector of Brandenburg being only Duke of + Prussia in reality. + </p> + <p> + Prince Czartoryski, blinded by the desire of vengeance, persuaded the Diet + that to give the two sovereigns these titles would be merely a form, and + that they would never become anything more than honorary. This might be + so, but if Poland had possessed far-seeing statesmen they would have + guessed that an honorary title would end in the usurpation of the whole + country. + </p> + <p> + The Russian palatin had the pleasure of seeing his nephew Stanislas + Poniatowski on the throne. + </p> + <p> + I myself told him that these titles gave a right, and that the promise not + to make any use of them was a mere delusion. I added jokingly—for I + was obliged to adopt a humorous tone—that before long Europe would + take pity on Poland, which had to bear the heavy weight of all the Russias + and the kingdom of Prussia as well, and the Commonwealth would find itself + relieved of all these charges. + </p> + <p> + My prophecy has been fulfilled. The two princes whose titles were allowed + have torn Poland limb from limb; it is now absorbed in Russia and Prussia. + </p> + <p> + The second great mistake made by Poland was in not remembering the + apologue of the man and the horse when the question of protection + presented itself. + </p> + <p> + The Republic of Rome became mistress of the world by protecting other + nations. + </p> + <p> + Thus Poland came to ruin through ambition, vengeance, and folly—but + folly most of all. + </p> + <p> + The same reason lay at the root of the French Revolution. Louis XVI. paid + the penalty of his folly with his life. If he had been a wise ruler he + would still be on the throne, and France would have escaped the fury of + the Revolutionists. France is sick; in any other country this sickness + might be remedied, but I would not wonder if it proved incurable in + France. + </p> + <p> + Certain emotional persons are moved to pity by the emigrant French nobles, + but for my part I think them only worthy of contempt. Instead of parading + their pride and their disgrace before the eyes of foreign nations, they + should have rallied round their king, and either have saved the throne or + died under its ruins. What will become of France? It was hard to say; but + it is certain that a body without a head cannot live very long, for reason + is situate in the head. + </p> + <p> + On December 1st Baron Pittoni begged me to call on him as some one had + come from Venice on purpose to see me. + </p> + <p> + I dressed myself hastily, and went to the baron’s, where I saw a + fine-looking man of thirty-five or forty, elegantly dressed. He looked at + me with the liveliest interest. + </p> + <p> + “My heart tells me,” I began, “that your excellence’s name is Zaguri?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so, my dear Casanova. As soon as my friend Dandolo told me of + your arrival here, I determined to come and congratulate you on your + approaching recall, which will take place either this year or the next, as + I hope to see two friends of mine made Inquisitors. You may judge of my + friendship for you when I tell you that I am an ‘avogador’, and that there + is a law forbidding such to leave Venice. We will spend to-day and + to-morrow together.” + </p> + <p> + I replied in a manner to convince him that I was sensible of the honour he + had done me; and I heard Baron Pittoni begging me to excuse him for not + having come to see me. He said he had forgotten all about it, and a + handsome old man begged his excellence to ask me to dine with him, though + he had not the pleasure of knowing me. + </p> + <p> + “What!” said Zaguri. “Casanova has been here for the last ten days, and + does not know the Venetian consul?” + </p> + <p> + I hastened to speak. + </p> + <p> + “It’s my own fault,” I observed, “I did not like calling on this + gentleman, for fear he might think me contraband.” + </p> + <p> + The consul answered wittily that I was not contraband but in quarantine, + pending my return to my native land; and that in the meanwhile his house + would always be open to me, as had been the house of the Venetian consul + at Ancona. + </p> + <p> + In this manner he let me know that he knew something about me, and I was + not at all sorry for it. + </p> + <p> + Marco Monti, such was the consul’s name, was a man of parts and much + experience; a pleasant companion and a great conversationalist, fond of + telling amusing stories with a grave face—in fact, most excellent + company. + </p> + <p> + I was something of a ‘conteur’ myself, and we soon became friendly rivals + in telling anecdotes. In spite of his thirty additional years I was a + tolerable match for him, and when we were in a room there was no question + of gaming to kill the time. + </p> + <p> + We became fast friends, and I benefited a good deal by his offices during + the two years I spent in Trieste, and I have always thought that he had a + considerable share in obtaining my recall. That was my great object in + those days; I was a victim to nostalgia, or home sickness. + </p> + <p> + With the Swiss and the Sclavs it is really a fatal disease, which carries + them off if they are not sent home immediately. Germans are subject to + this weakness also; whilst the French suffer very little, and Italians not + much more from the complaint. + </p> + <p> + No rule, however, lacks its exception, and I was one. I daresay I should + have got over my nostalgia if I had treated it with contempt, and then I + should not have wasted ten years of my life in the bosom of my cruel + stepmother Venice. + </p> + <p> + I dined with M. Zaguri at the consul’s, and I was invited to dine with the + governor, Count Auersperg, the next day. + </p> + <p> + The visit from a Venetian ‘avogador’ made me a person of great + consideration. I was no longer looked upon as an exile, but as one who had + successfully escaped from illegal confinement. + </p> + <p> + The day after I accompanied M. Zaguri to Gorice, where he stayed three + days to enjoy the hospitality of the nobility. I was included in all their + invitations, and I saw that a stranger could live very pleasantly at + Gorice. + </p> + <p> + I met there a certain Count Cobenzl, who may be alive now—a man of + wisdom, generosity, and the vastest learning, and yet without any kind of + pretention. He gave a State dinner to M. Zaguri, and I had the pleasure of + meeting there three or four most charming ladies. I also met Count Torres, + a Spaniard whose father was in in the Austrian service. He had married at + sixty, and had five children all as ugly as himself. His daughter was a + charming girl in spite of her plainness; she evidently got her character + from the mother’s side. The eldest son, who was ugly and squinted, was a + kind of pleasant madman, but he was also a liar, a profligate, a boaster, + and totally devoid of discretion. In spite of these defects he was much + sought after in society as he told a good tale and made people laugh. If + he had been a student, he would have been a distinguished scholar, as his + memory was prodigious. He it was who vainly guaranteed the agreement I + made with Valerio Valeri for printing my “History of Poland.” I also met + at Gorice a Count Coronini, who was known in learned circles as the author + of some Latin treatises on diplomacy. Nobody read his books, but everybody + agreed that he was a very learned man. + </p> + <p> + I also met a young man named Morelli, who had written a history of the + place and was on the point of publishing the first volume. He gave me his + MS. begging me to make any corrections that struck me as desirable. I + succeeded in pleasing him, as I gave him back his work without a single + note or alteration of any kind, and thus he became my friend. + </p> + <p> + I became a great friend of Count Francis Charles Coronini, who was a man + of talents. He had married a Belgian lady, but not being able to agree + they had separated and he passed his time in trifling intrigues, hunting, + and reading the papers, literary and political. He laughed at those sages + who declared that there was not one really happy person in the world, and + he supported his denial by the unanswerable dictum: + </p> + <p> + “I myself am perfectly happy.” + </p> + <p> + However, as he died of a tumor in the head at the age of thirty-five, he + probably acknowledged his mistake in the agonies of death. + </p> + <p> + There is no such thing as a perfectly happy or perfectly unhappy man in + the world. One has more happiness in his life and another more + unhappiness, and the same circumstance may produce widely different + effects on individuals of different temperaments. + </p> + <p> + It is not a fact that virtue ensures happiness for the exercise of some + virtues implies suffering, and suffering is incompatible with happiness. + </p> + <p> + My readers may be aware that I am not inclined to make mental pleasure + pre-eminent and all sufficing. It may be a fine thing to have a clear + conscience, but I cannot see that it would at all relieve the pangs of + hunger. + </p> + <p> + Baron Pittoni and myself escorted Zaguri to the Venetian border, and we + then returned to Trieste together. + </p> + <p> + In three or four days Pittoni took me everywhere, including the club where + none but persons of distinction were admitted. This club was held at the + inn where I was staying. + </p> + <p> + Amongst the ladies, the most noteworthy was the wife of the merchant, + David Riguelin, who was a Swabian by birth. + </p> + <p> + Pittoni was in love with her and continued so till her death. His suit + lasted for twelve years, and like Petrarch, he still sighed, still hoped, + but never succeeded. Her name was Zanetta, and besides her beauty she had + the charm of being an exquisite singer and a polished hostess. Still more + noteworthy, however, was the unvarying sweetness and equability of her + disposition. + </p> + <p> + I did not want to know her long before recognizing that she was absolutely + impregnable. I told Pittoni so, but all in vain; he still fed on empty + hope. + </p> + <p> + Zanetta had very poor health, though no one would have judged so from her + appearance, but it was well known to be the case. She died at an early + age. + </p> + <p> + A few days after M. Zaguri’s departure, I had a note from the consul + informing me that the Procurator Morosini was stopping in my inn, and + advising me to call on him if I knew him. + </p> + <p> + I was infinitely obliged for this advice, for M. Morosini was a personage + of the greatest importance. He had known me from childhood, and the reader + may remember that he had presented me to Marshal Richelieu, at + Fontainebleau, in 1750. + </p> + <p> + I dressed myself as if I had been about to speak to a monarch, and sent in + a note to his room. + </p> + <p> + I had not long to wait; he came out and welcomed me most graciously, + telling me how delighted he was to see me again. + </p> + <p> + When he heard the reason of my being at Trieste, and how I desired to + return to my country, he assured me he would do all in his power to obtain + me my wish. He thanked me for the care I had taken of his nephew at + Florence, and kept me all the day while I told him my principal + adventures. + </p> + <p> + He was glad to hear that M. Zaguri was working for me, and said that they + must concert the matter together. He commended me warmly to the consul, who + was delighted to be able to inform the Tribunal of the consideration with + which M. Morosini treated me. + </p> + <p> + After the procurator had gone I began to enjoy life at Trieste, but in + strict moderation and with due regard for economy, for I had only fifteen + sequins a month. I abjured play altogether. + </p> + <p> + Every day I dined with one of the circle of my friends, who were the + Venetian consul, the French consul (an eccentric but worthy man who kept a + good cook), Pittoni, who kept an excellent table, thanks to his man who + knew what was to his own interests, and several others. + </p> + <p> + As for the pleasures of love I enjoyed them in moderation, taking care of + my purse and of my health. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of the carnival I went to a masked ball at the theatre, + and in the course of the evening a harlequin came up and presented his + columbine to me. They both began to play tricks on me. I was pleased with + the columbine, and felt a strong desire to be acquainted with her. After + some vain researches the French consul, M. de St. Sauveur, told me that + the harlequin was a young lady of rank, and that the columbine was a + handsome young man. + </p> + <p> + “If you like,” he added, “I will introduce you to the harlequin’s family, + and I am sure you will appreciate her charms when you see her as a girl.” + </p> + <p> + As they persisted in their jokes I was able, without wounding decency + overmuch, to convince myself that the consul was right on the question of + sex; and when the ball was over I said I should be obliged by his + introducing me as he had promised. He promised to do so the day after Ash + Wednesday. + </p> + <p> + Thus I made the acquaintance of Madame Leo, who was still pretty and + agreeable, though she had lived very freely in her younger days. There was + her husband, a son, and six daughters, all handsome, but especially the + harlequin with whom I was much taken. Naturally I fell in love with her, + but as I was her senior by thirty years, and had begun my addresses in a + tone of fatherly affection, a feeling of shame prevented my disclosing to + her the real state of my heart. Four years later she told me herself that + she had guessed my real feelings, and had been amused by my foolish + restraint. + </p> + <p> + A young girl learns deeper lessons from nature than we men can acquire + with all our experience. + </p> + <p> + At the Easter of 1773 Count Auersperg, the Governor of Trieste, was + recalled to Vienna, and Count Wagensberg took his place. His eldest + daughter, the Countess Lantieri, who was a great beauty, inspired me with + a passion which would have made me unhappy if I had not succeeded in + hiding it under a veil of the profoundest respect. + </p> + <p> + I celebrated the accession of the new governor by some verses which I had + printed, and in which, while lauding the father, I paid conspicuous homage + to the charms of the daughter. + </p> + <p> + My tribute pleased them, and I became an intimate friend of the count’s. + He placed confidence in me with the idea of my using it to my own + advantage, for though he did not say so openly I divined his intention. + </p> + <p> + The Venetian consul had told me that he had been vainly endeavouring for + the last four years to get the Government of Trieste to arrange for the + weekly diligence from Trieste to Mestre to pass by Udine, the capital of + the Venetian Friuli. + </p> + <p> + “This alteration,” he had said, “would greatly benefit the commerce of the + two states; but the Municipal Council of Trieste opposes it for a + plausible but ridiculous reason.” + </p> + <p> + These councillors, in the depth of their wisdom, said that if the Venetian + Republic desired the alteration it would evidently be to their advantage, + and consequently to the disadvantage of Trieste. + </p> + <p> + The consul assured me that if I could in any way obtain the concession it + would weigh strongly in my favour with the State Inquisitors, and even in + the event of my non-success he would represent my exertions in the most + favourable light. + </p> + <p> + I promised I would think the matter over. + </p> + <p> + Finding myself high in the governor’s favour, I took the opportunity of + addressing myself to him on the subject. He had heard about the matter, + and thought the objection of the Town Council absurd and even monstrous; + but he professed his inability to do anything himself. + </p> + <p> + “Councillor Rizzi,” said he, “is the most obstinate of them all, and has + led astray the rest with his sophisms. But do you send me in a memorandum + shewing that the alteration will have a much better effect on the large + commerce of Trieste than on the comparatively trifling trade of Udine. I + shall send it into the Council without disclosing the authorship, but + backing it with my authority, and challenging the opposition to refute + your arguments. Finally, if they do not decide reasonably I shall proclaim + before them all my intention to send the memoir to Vienna with my opinion + on it.” + </p> + <p> + I felt confident of success, and wrote out a memoir full of + incontrovertible reasons in favour of the proposed change. + </p> + <p> + My arguments gained the victory; the Council were persuaded, and Count + Wagensberg handed me the decree, which I immediately laid before the + Venetian consul. Following his advice, I wrote to the secretary of the + Tribunal to the effect that I was happy to have given the Government a + proof of my zeal, and an earnest of my desire to be useful to my country + and to be worthy of being recalled. + </p> + <p> + Out of regard for me the count delayed the promulgation of the decree for + a week, so that the people of Udine heard the news from Venice before it + had reached Trieste, and everybody thought that the Venetian Government + had achieved its ends by bribery. The secretary of the Tribunal did not + answer my letter, but he wrote to the consul ordering him to give me a + hundred ducats, and to inform me that this present was to encourage me to + serve the Republic. He added that I might hope great things from the mercy + of the Inquisitors if I succeeded in negotiating the Armenian difficulty. + </p> + <p> + The consul gave me the requisite information, and my impression was that + my efforts would be in vain; however, I resolved to make the attempt. + </p> + <p> + Four Armenian monks had left the Convent of St. Lazarus at Venice, having + found the abbot’s tyranny unbearable. They had wealthy relations at + Constantinople, and laughed the excommunication of their late tyrant to + scorn. They sought asylum at Vienna, promising to make themselves useful + to the State by establishing an Armenian press to furnish all the Armenian + convents with books. They engaged to sink a capital of a million florins + if they were allowed to settle in Austria, to found their press, and to + buy or build a convent, where they proposed to live in community but + without any abbot. + </p> + <p> + As might be expected the Austrian Government did not hesitate to grant + their request; it did more, it gave them special privileges. + </p> + <p> + The effect of this arrangement would be to deprive Venice of a lucrative + trade, and to place it in the emperor’s dominions. Consequently the + Viennese Court sent them to Trieste with a strong recommendation to the + governor, and they had been there for the past six months. + </p> + <p> + The Venetian Government, of course, wished to entice them back to Venice. + They had vainly induced their late abbot to make handsome offers to them, + and they then proceeded by indirect means, endeavoring to stir up + obstacles in their way, and to disgust them with Trieste. + </p> + <p> + The consul told me plainly that he had not touched the matter, thinking + success to be out of the question; and he predicted that if I attempted it + I should find myself in the dilemma of having to solve the insoluble. I + felt the force of the consul’s remark when I reflected that I could not + rely on the governor’s assistance, or even speak to him on the subject. I + saw that I must not let him suspect my design, for besides his duty to his + Government he was a devoted friend to the interests of Trieste, and for + this reason a great patron of the monks. + </p> + <p> + In spite of these obstacles my nostalgia made me make acquaintance with + these monks under pretence of inspecting their Armenian types, which they + were already casting. In a week or ten days I became quite intimate with + them. One day I said that they were bound in honour to return to the + obedience of their abbot, if only to annul his sentence of + excommunication. + </p> + <p> + The most obstinate of them told me that the abbot had behaved more like a + despot than a father, and had thus absolved them from their obedience. + “Besides,” he said, “no rascally priest has any right to cut off good + Christians from communion with the Saviour, and we are sure that our + patriarch will give us absolution and send us some more monks.” + </p> + <p> + I could make no objection to these arguments; however, I asked on another + occasion on what conditions they would return to Venice. + </p> + <p> + The most sensible of them said that in the first place the abbot must + withdraw the four hundred thousand ducats which he had entrusted to the + Marquis Serpos at four per cent. + </p> + <p> + This sum was the capital from which the income of the Convent of St. + Lazarus was derived. The abbot had no right whatever to dispose of it, + even with the consent of a majority among the monks. If the marquis became + bankrupt the convent would be utterly destitute. The marquis was an + Armenian diamond merchant, and a great friend of the abbot’s. + </p> + <p> + I then asked the monks what were the other conditions, and they replied + that these were some matters of discipline which might easily be settled; + they would give me a written statement of their grievances as soon as I + could assure them that the Marquis Serpos was no longer in possession of + their funds. + </p> + <p> + I embodied my negotiations in writing, and sent the document to the + Inquisitors by the consul. In six weeks I received an answer to the effect + that the abbot saw his way to arranging the money difficulty, but that he + must see a statement of the reforms demanded before doing so. This decided + me to have nothing to do with the affair, but a few words from Count + Wagensberg made me throw it up without further delay. He gave me to + understand that he knew of my attempts to reconcile the four monks with + their abbot, and he told me that he had been sorry to hear the report, as + my success would do harm to a country where I lived and where I was + treated as a friend. + </p> + <p> + I immediately told him the whole story, assuring him that I would never + have begun the negotiation if I had not been certain of failure, for I + heard on undoubted authority that Serpos could not possibly restore the + four hundred thousand ducats. + </p> + <p> + This explanation thoroughly dissipated any cloud that might have arisen + between us. + </p> + <p> + The Armenians bought Councillor Rizzi’s house for thirty thousand florins. + Here they established themselves, and I visited them from time to time + without saying anything more about Venice. + </p> + <p> + Count Wagensberg gave me another proof of his friendship. Unhappily for me + he died during the autumn of the same year, at the age of fifty. + </p> + <p> + One morning he summoned me, and I found him perusing a document he had + just received from Vienna. He told me he was sorry I did not read German, + but that he would tell me the contents of the paper. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” he continued, “you will be able to serve your country without in + any way injuring Austria. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to confide in you a State secret (it being understood of + course that my name is never to be mentioned) which ought to be greatly to + your advantage, whether you succeed or fail; at all hazards your + patriotism, your prompt action, and your cleverness in obtaining such + information will be made manifest. Remember you must never divulge your + sources of information; only tell your Government that you are perfectly + sure of the authenticity of the statement you make. + </p> + <p> + “You must know,” he continued, “that all the commodities we export to + Lombardy pass through Venice where they have to pay duty. Such has long + been the custom, and it may still be so if the Venetian Government will + consent to reduce the duty of four per cent to two per cent. + </p> + <p> + “A plan has been brought before the notice of the Austrian Court, and it + has been eagerly accepted. I have received certain orders on the matter, + which I shall put into execution without giving any warning to the + Venetian Government. + </p> + <p> + “In future all goods for Lombardy will be embarked here and disembarked at + Mezzola without troubling the Republic. Mezzola is in the territories of + the Duke of Modena; a ship can cross the gulf in the night, and our goods + will be placed in storehouses, which will be erected. + </p> + <p> + “In this way we shall shorten the journey and decrease the freights, and + the Modenese Government will be satisfied with a trifling sum, barely + equivalent to a fourth of what we pay to Venice. + </p> + <p> + “In spite of all this, I feel sure that if the Venetian Government wrote + to the Austrian Council of Commerce expressing their willingness to take + two per cent henceforth, the proposal would be accepted, for we Austrians + dislike novelties. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not lay the matter before the Town Council for four or five days, + as there is no hurry for us; but you had better make haste, that you may + be the first to inform your Government of the matter. + </p> + <p> + “If everything goes as I should wish I hope to receive an order from + Vienna suspending the decree just as I am about to make it public.” + </p> + <p> + Next morning the governor was delighted to hear that everything had been + finished before midnight. He assured me that the consul should not have + official information before Saturday. In the meanwhile the consul’s uneasy + state of mind was quite a trouble to me, for I could not do anything to + set his mind at ease. + </p> + <p> + Saturday came and Councillor Rizzi told me the news at the club. He seemed + in high spirits over it, and said that the loss of Venice was the gain of + Trieste. The consul came in just then, and said that the loss would be a + mere trifle for Venice, while the first-shipwreck would cost more to + Trieste than ten years’ duty. The consul seemed to enjoy the whole thing, + but that was the part he had to play. In all small trading towns like + Trieste, people make a great account of trifles. + </p> + <p> + I went to dine with the consul, who privately confessed his doubts and + fears on the matter. + </p> + <p> + I asked him how the Venetians would parry the blow, and he replied,— + </p> + <p> + “They will have a number of very learned consultations, and then they will + do nothing at all, and the Austrians will send their goods wherever they + please.” + </p> + <p> + “But the Government is such a wise one.” + </p> + <p> + “Or rather has the reputation of wisdom.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you think it lives on its reputation?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; like all your mouldy institutions, they continue to be simply + because they have been. Old Governments are like those ancient dykes which + are rotten at the base, and only stay in position by their weight and + bulk.” + </p> + <p> + The consul was in the right. He wrote to his chief the same day, and in + the course of the next week he heard that their excellencies had received + information of the matter some time ago by extraordinary channels. + </p> + <p> + For the present his duties would be confined to sending in any additional + information on the same subject. + </p> + <p> + “I told you so,” said the consul; “now, what do you think of the wisdom of + our sages?” + </p> + <p> + “I think Bedlam of Charenton were their best lodging.” + </p> + <p> + In three weeks the consul received orders to give me another grant of a + hundred ducats, and to allow me ten sequins a month, to encourage me to + deserve well of the State. + </p> + <p> + From that time I felt sure I should be allowed to return in the course of + the year, but I was mistaken, for I had to wait till the year following. + </p> + <p> + This new present, and the monthly payment of ten sequins put me at my + ease, for I had expensive tastes of which I could not cure myself. I felt + pleased at the thought that I was now in the pay of the Tribunal which had + punished me, and which I had defied. It seemed to me a triumph, and I + determined to do all in my power for the Republic. + </p> + <p> + Here I must relate an amusing incident, which delighted everyone in + Trieste. + </p> + <p> + It was in the beginning of summer. I had been eating sardines by the + sea-shore, and when I came home at ten o’clock at night I was astonished + to be greeted by a girl whom I recognized as Count Strasoldo’s maid. + </p> + <p> + The count was a handsome young man, but poor like most of that name; he + was fond of expensive pleasures, and was consequently heavily in debt. He + had a small appointment which brought him in an income of six hundred + florins, and he had not the slightest difficulty in spending a year’s pay + in three months. He had agreeable manners and a generous disposition, and + I had supped with him in company with Baron Pittoni several times. He had + a girl in his service who was exquisitely pretty, but none of the count’s + friends attempted her as he was very jealous. Like the rest, I had seen + and admired her, I had congratulated the count on the possession of such a + treasure in her presence, but I had never addressed a word to her. + </p> + <p> + Strasoldo had just been summoned to Vienna by Count Auersperg who liked + him, and had promised to do what he could for him. He had got an + employment in Poland, his furniture had been sold, he had taken leave of + everyone, and nobody doubted that he would take his pretty maid with him. + I thought so too, for I had been to wish him a pleasant journey that + morning, and my astonishment at finding the girl in my room may be + imagined. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want, my dear?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, sir, but I don’t want to go with Strasoldo, and I thought you + would protect me. Nobody will be able to guess where I am, and Strasoldo + will be obliged to go by himself. You will not be so cruel as to drive me + away?” + </p> + <p> + “No, dearest.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you I will go away to-morrow, for Strasoldo is going to leave + at day-break.” + </p> + <p> + “My lovely Leuzica (this was her name), no one would refuse you an asylum, + I least of all. You are safe here, and nobody shall come in without your + leave. I am only too happy that you came to me, but if it is true that the + count is your lover you may be sure he will not go so easily. He will stay + the whole of to-morrow at least, in the hope of finding you again.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt he will look for me everywhere but here. Will you promise not to + make me go with him even if he guesses that I am with you?” + </p> + <p> + “I swear I will not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will have to share my bed.” + </p> + <p> + “If I shall not inconvenience you, I agree with all my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall see whether you inconvenience me or not. Undress, quick! But + where are your things?” + </p> + <p> + “All that I have is in a small trunk behind the count’s carriage, but I + don’t trouble myself about it.” + </p> + <p> + “The poor count must be raging at this very moment.” + </p> + <p> + “No, for he will not come home till midnight. He is supping with Madame + Bissolotti, who is in love with him.” + </p> + <p> + In the meantime Leuzica had undressed and got into bed. In a moment I was + beside her, and after the severe regimen of the last eight months I spent + a delicious night in her arms, for of late my pleasures had been few. + </p> + <p> + Leuzica was a perfect beauty, and worthy to be a king’s mistress; and if I + had been rich I would have set up a household that I might retain her in + my service. + </p> + <p> + We did not awake till seven o’clock. She got up, and on looking out of the + window saw Strasoldo’s carriage waiting at the door. + </p> + <p> + I confronted her by saying that as long as she liked to stay with me no + one could force her away. + </p> + <p> + I was vexed that I had no closet in my room, as I could not hide her from + the waiter who would bring us coffee. We accordingly dispensed with + breakfast, but I had to find out some way of feeding her. I thought I had + plenty of time before me, but I was wrong. + </p> + <p> + At ten o’clock I saw Strasoldo and his friend Pittoni coming into the inn. + They spoke to the landlord, and seemed to be searching the whole place, + passing from one room to another. + </p> + <p> + I laughed, and told Leuzica that they were looking for her, and that our + turn would doubtless come before long. + </p> + <p> + “Remember your promise,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “You may be sure of that.” + </p> + <p> + The tone in which this remark was delivered comforted her, and she + exclaimed,— + </p> + <p> + “Well; well, let them come; they will get nothing by it.” + </p> + <p> + I heard footsteps approaching, and went out, closing the door behind me, + and begging them to excuse my not asking them in, as there was a + contraband commodity in my room. + </p> + <p> + “Only tell me that it is not my maid,” said Strasoldo, in a pitiable + voice. “We are sure she is here, as the sentinel at the gate saw her come + in at ten o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, the fair Leuzica is at this moment in my room. I have + given her my word of honour that no violence shall be used, and you may be + sure I shall keep my word.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall certainly not attempt any violence, but I am sure she would come + of her own free will if I could speak to her.” + </p> + <p> + “I will ask her if she wishes to see you. Wait a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Leuzica had been listening to our conversation, and when I opened the door + she told me that I could let them in. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Strasoldo appeared she asked him proudly if she was under any + obligations to him, if she had stolen anything from him, and if she was + not perfectly free to leave him when she liked. + </p> + <p> + The poor count replied mildly that on the contrary it was he who owed her + a year’s wages and had her box in his possession, but that she should not + have left him without giving any reason. + </p> + <p> + “The only reason is that I don’t want to go to Vienna,” she replied. “I + told you so a week ago. If you are an honest man you will leave me my + trunk, and as to my wages you can send them to me at my aunt’s at Laibach + if you haven’t got any money now.” + </p> + <p> + I pitied Strasoldo from the bottom of my heart; he prayed and entreated, + and finally wept like a child. However, Pittoni roused my choler by saying + that I ought to drive the slut out of my room. + </p> + <p> + “You are not the man to tell me what I ought and what I ought not to do,” + I replied, “and after I have received her in my apartments you ought to + moderate your expressions.” + </p> + <p> + Seeing that I stood on my dignity he laughed, and asked me if I had fallen + in love with her in so short a time. + </p> + <p> + Strasoldo here broke in by saying he was sure she had not slept with me. + </p> + <p> + “That’s where you are mistaken,” said she, “for there’s only one bed, and + I did not sleep on the floor.” + </p> + <p> + They found prayers and reproaches alike useless and left us at noon. + Leuzica was profuse in her expressions of gratitude to me. + </p> + <p> + There was no longer any mystery, so I boldly ordered dinner for two, and + promised that she should remain with me till the count had left Trieste. + </p> + <p> + At three o’clock the Venetian consul came, saying that Count Strasoldo had + begged him to use his good offices with me to persuade me to deliver up + the fair Leuzica. + </p> + <p> + “You must speak to the girl herself,” I replied; “she came here and stays + here of her own free will.” + </p> + <p> + When the worthy man had heard the girl’s story he went away, saying that + we had the right on our side. + </p> + <p> + In the evening a porter brought her trunk, and at this she seemed touched + but not repentant. + </p> + <p> + Leuzica supped with me and again shared my couch. The count left Trieste + at day-break. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I was sure that he was gone, I took a carriage and escorted the + fair Leuzica two stages on her way to Laibach. We dined together, and I + left her in the care of a friend of hers. + </p> + <p> + Everybody said I had acted properly, and even Pittoni confessed that in my + place he would have done the same. + </p> + <p> + Poor Strasoldo came to a bad end. He got into debt, committed peculation, + and had to escape into Turkey and embrace Islam to avoid the penalty of + death. + </p> + <p> + About this time the Venetian general, Palmanova, accompanied by the + procurator Erizzo, came to Trieste to visit the governor, Count + Wagensberg. In the afternoon the count presented me to the patricians who + seemed astonished to see me at Trieste. + </p> + <p> + The procurator asked me if I amused myself as well as I had done at Paris + sixteen years ago, and I told him that sixteen years more, and a hundred + thousand francs less, forced me to live in a different fashion. While we + were talking, the consul came in to announce that the felucca was ready. + Madame de Lantieri as well as her father pressed me to join the party. + </p> + <p> + I gave a bow, which might mean either no or yes, and asked the consul what + the party was. He told me that they were going to see a Venetian + man-of-war at anchor in the harbor; his excellence there being the captain + I immediately turned to the countess and smilingly professed my regret + that I was unable to set foot on Venetian soil. + </p> + <p> + Everybody exclaimed at me,— + </p> + <p> + “You have nothing to fear. You are with honest people. Your suspicion is + quite offensive.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all very fine, ladies and gentlemen, and I will come with all my + heart, if your excellences will assure me that my joining this little + party will not be known to the State Inquisitors possibly by to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + This was enough. Everybody looked at me in silence, and no objections + could be found to my argument. + </p> + <p> + The captain of the vessel, who did not know me, spoke a few whispered + words to the others, and then they left. + </p> + <p> + The next day the consul told me that the captain had praised my prudence + in declining to go on board, as if anyone had chanced to tell him my name + and my case whilst I was on his ship, it would have been his duty to + detain me. + </p> + <p> + When I told the governor of this remark he replied gravely that he should + not have allowed the ship to leave the harbour. + </p> + <p> + I saw the procurator Erizzo the same evening, and he congratulated me on + my discretion, telling me he would take care to let the Tribunal know how + I respected its decisions. + </p> + <p> + About this time I had the pleasure of seeing a beautiful Venetian, who + visited Trieste with several of her admirers. She was of the noble family + of Bon, and had married Count Romili de Bergamo, who left her free to do + whatever she liked. She drew behind her triumphal chariot an old general, + Count Bourghausen, a famous rake who had deserted Mars for the past ten + years in order to devote his remaining days to the service of Venus. He + was a delightful man, and we became friends. Ten years later he was of + service to me, as my readers will find in the next volume, which may + perhaps be the last. + </p> + <a name="linkF2HCH0022" id="linkF2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Some Adventures at Trieste—I Am of Service to the Venetian + Government—My Expedition to Gorice and My Return to + Trieste—I Find Irene as an Actress and Expert Gamester +</pre> + <p> + Some of the ladies of Trieste thought they would like to act a French + play, and I was made stage manager. I had not only to choose the pieces, + but to distribute the parts, the latter being a duty of infinite + irksomeness. + </p> + <p> + All the actresses were new to the boards, and I had immense trouble in + hearing them repeat their parts, which they seemed unable to learn by + heart. It is a well-known fact that the revolution which is really wanted + in Italy is in female education. The very best families with few + exceptions are satisfied with shutting up their daughters in a convent for + several years till the time comes for them to marry some man whom they + never see till the eve or the day of their marriage. As a consequence we + have the ‘cicisbeo’, and in Italy as in France the idea that our nobles + are the sons of their nominal fathers is a purely conventional one. + </p> + <p> + What do girls learn in convents, especially in Italian convents? A few + mechanical acts of devotion and outward forms, very little real religion, + a good deal of deceit, often profligate habits, a little reading and + writing, many useless accomplishments, small music and less drawing, no + history, no geography or mythology, hardly any mathematics, and nothing to + make a girl a good wife and a good mother. + </p> + <p> + As for foreign languages, they are unheard of; our own Italian is so soft + that any other tongue is hard to acquire, and the ‘dolce far niente’ habit + is an obstacle to all assiduous study. + </p> + <p> + I write down these truths in spite of my patriotism. I know that if any of + my fellow-countrywomen come to read me they will be very angry; but I + shall be beyond the reach of all anger. + </p> + <p> + To return to our theatricals. As I could not make my actresses get their + parts letter perfect, I became their prompter, and found out by experience + all the ungratefulness of the position. + </p> + <p> + The actors never acknowledged their debt to the prompter, and put down to + his account all the mistakes they make. + </p> + <p> + A Spanish doctor is almost as badly off; if his patient recovers, the cure + is set down to the credit of one saint or another; but if he dies, the + physician is blamed for his unskilful treatment. + </p> + <p> + A handsome negress, who served the prettiest of my actresses to whom I + shewed great attentions, said to me one day,— + </p> + <p> + “I can’t make out how you can be so much in love with my mistress, who is + as white as the devil.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you never loved a white man?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said she, “but only because I had no negro, to whom I should + certainly have given the preference.” + </p> + <p> + Soon after the negress became mine, and I found out the falsity of the + axiom, ‘Sublata lucerna nullum discrimen inter feminas’, for even in the + darkness a man would know a black woman from a white one. + </p> + <p> + I feel quite sure myself that the negroes are a distinct species from + ourselves. There is one essential difference, leaving the colour out of + account—namely, that an African woman can either conceive or not, + and can conceive a boy or a girl. No doubt my readers will disbelieve this + assertion, but their incredulity would cease if I instructed them in the + mysterious science of the negresses. + </p> + <p> + Count Rosenberg, grand chamberlain of the emperor, came on a visit to + Trieste in company with an Abbe Casti, whose acquaintance I wished to make + on account of some extremely blasphemous poems he had written. However, I + was disappointed; and instead of a man of parts, I found the abbe to be an + impudent worthless fellow, whose only merit was a knack of versification. + </p> + <p> + Count Rosenberg took the abbe with him, because he was useful in the + capacities of a fool and a pimp—occupations well suited to his morals, + though by no means agreeable to his ecclesiastical status. In those days + syphilis had not completely destroyed his uvula. + </p> + <p> + I heard that this shameless profligate, this paltry poetaster, had been + named poet to the emperor. What a dishonour to the memory of the great + Metastasio, a man free from all vices, adorned with all virtues, and of + the most singular ability. + </p> + <p> + Casti had neither a fine style, nor a knowledge of dramatic requirements, + as appears from two or three comic operas composed by him, in which the + reader will find nothing but foolish buffooneries badly put together. In + one of these comic operas he makes use of slander against King Theodore + and the Venetian Republic, which he turns into ridicule by means of + pitiful lies. + </p> + <p> + In another piece called The Cave of Trophonius, Casti made himself the + laughing-stock of the literary world by making a display of useless + learning which contributes nothing towards the plot. + </p> + <p> + Among the persons of quality who came to Gorice, I met a certain Count + Torriano, who persuaded me to spend the autumn with him at a country house + of his six miles from Gorice. + </p> + <p> + If I had listened to the voice of my good genius I should certainly never + have gone. + </p> + <p> + The count was under thirty, and was not married. He could not exactly be + called ugly in spite of his hangdog countenance, in which I saw the + outward signs of cruelty, disloyalty, treason, pride, brutal sensuality, + hatred, and jealousy. The mixture of bad qualities was such an appalling + one that I thought his physiognomy was at fault, and the goods better than + the sign. He asked me to come and see him so graciously that I concluded + that the man gave the lie to his face. + </p> + <p> + I asked about him before accepting the invitation, and I heard nothing but + good. People certainly said he was fond of the fair sex, and was a fierce + avenger of any wrong done to him, but not thinking either of these + characteristics unworthy of a gentleman I accepted his invitation. He told + me that he would expect me to meet him at Gorice on the first day of + September, and that the next day we would leave for his estate. + </p> + <p> + In consequence of Torriano’s invitation I took leave of everybody, + especially of Count Wagensberg, who had a serious attack of that malady + which yields so easily to mercury when it is administered by a skilled + hand, but which kills the unfortunate who falls amongst quacks. Such was + the fate of the poor count; he died a month after I had left Trieste. + </p> + <p> + I left Trieste in the morning, dined at Proseco, and reached Gorice in + good time. I called at Count Louis Torriano’s mansion, but was told he was + out. However, they allowed me to deposit what little luggage I had when I + informed them that the count had invited me. I then went to see Count + Torres, and stayed with him till supper-time. + </p> + <p> + When I got back to the count’s I was told he was in the country, and would + not be back till the next day, and that in the meantime my trunks had been + taken to the inn where a room and supper had been ordered. + </p> + <p> + I was extremely astonished, and went to the inn, where I was served with a + bad supper in an uncomfortable room; however, I supposed that the count + had been unable to accommodate me in his house, and I excused him though I + wished he had forewarned me. I could not understand how a gentleman who + has a house and invites a friend can be without a room wherein to lodge + him. + </p> + <p> + Next morning Count Torriano came to see me, thanked me for my punctuality, + congratulated himself on the pleasure he expected to derive from my + society, and told me he was very sorry we could not start for two days, as + a suit was to be heard the next day between himself and a rascally old + farmer who was trying to cheat him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said I, “I will go and hear the pleadings; it will be an + amusement for me.” + </p> + <p> + Soon after he took his leave, without asking me where I intended dining, + or apologizing for not having accommodated me himself. + </p> + <p> + I could not make him out; I thought he might have taken offence at my + descending at his doors without having given him any warning. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Casanova,” I said to myself, “you may be all abroad. + Knowledge of character is an unfathomable gulf. We thought we had studied + it deeply, but there is still more to learn; we shall see. He may have + said nothing out of delicacy. I should be sorry to be found wanting in + politeness, though indeed I am puzzled to know what I have done amiss.” + </p> + <p> + I dined by myself, made calls in the afternoon, and supped with Count + Torres. I told him that I promised myself the pleasure of hearing the + eloquence of the bar of Gorice the next day. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be there, too,” said he, “as I am curious to see what sort of a + face Torriano will put on it, if the countryman wins. I know something + about the case,” he continued, “and Torriano is sure of victory, unless + the documents attesting the farmer’s indebtedness happen to be forgeries. + On the other hand, the farmer ought to win unless it can be shewn that the + receipts signed by Torriano are forgeries. The farmer has lost in the + first court and in the second court, but he has paid the costs and + appealed from both, though he is a poor man. If he loses to-morrow he will + not only be a ruined man, but be sentenced to penal servitude, while if he + wins, Torriano should be sent to the galleys, together with his counsel, + who has deserved this fate many times before.” + </p> + <p> + I knew Count Torres passed for somewhat of a scandal-monger, so his remarks + made little impression on me beyond whetting my curiosity. The next day I + was one of the first to appear in the court, where I found the bench, + plaintiff and defendant, and the barristers, already assembled. The + farmer’s counsel was an old man who looked honest, while the count’s had + all the impudence of a practised knave. The count sat beside him, smiling + disdainfully, as if he was lowering himself to strive with a miserable + peasant whom he had already twice vanquished. + </p> + <p> + The farmer sat by his wife, his son, and two daughters, and had that air + of modest assurance which indicates resignation and a good conscience. + </p> + <p> + I wondered how such honest people could have lost in two courts; I was + sure their cause must be a just one. + </p> + <p> + They were all poorly clad, and from their downcast eyes and their humble + looks I guessed them to be the victims of oppression. + </p> + <p> + Each barrister could speak for two hours. + </p> + <p> + The farmer’s advocate spoke for thirty minutes, which he occupied by + putting in the various receipts bearing the count’s signature up to the + time when he had dismissed the farmer, because he would not prostitute his + daughters to him. He then continued, speaking with calm precision, to + point out the anachronisms and contradictions in the count’s books (which + made his client a debtor), and stated that his client was in a position to + prosecute the two forgers who had been employed to compass the ruin of an + honest family, whose only crime was poverty. He ended his speech by an + appeal for costs in all the suits, and for compensation for loss of time + and defamation of character. + </p> + <p> + The harangue of the count’s advocate would have lasted more than two hours + if the court had not silenced him. He indulged in a torrent of abuse + against the other barrister, the experts in hand-writing, and the peasant, + whom he threatened with a speedy consignment to the galleys. + </p> + <p> + The pleadings would have wearied me if I had been a blind man, but as it + was I amused myself by a scrutiny of the various physiognomies before me. + My host’s face remained smiling and impudent through it all. + </p> + <p> + The pleadings over, the court was cleared, and we awaited the sentence in + the adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + The peasant and his family sat in a corner apart, sad, sorry, and + comfortless, with no friend to speak a consoling word, while the count was + surrounded by a courtly throng, who assured him that with such a case he + could not possibly lose; but that if the judges did deliver judgment + against him he should pay the peasant, and force him to prove the alleged + forgery. + </p> + <p> + I listened in profound silence, sympathising with the countryman rather + than my host, whom I believed to be a thorough-paced scoundrel, though I + took care not to say so. + </p> + <p> + Count Torres, who was a deadly foe to all prudence and discretion, asked + me my opinion of the case, and I whispered that I thought the count should + lose, even if he were in the right, on account of the infamous apostrophes + of his counsel, who deserved to have his ears cut off or to stand in the + pillory for six months. + </p> + <p> + “And the client too,” said Torres aloud; but nobody had heard what I had + said. + </p> + <p> + After we had waited for an hour the clerk of the court came in with two + papers, one of which he gave to the peasant’s counsel and the other to + Torriano’s. Torriano read it to himself, burst into a loud laugh, and then + read it aloud. + </p> + <p> + The court condemned the count to recognize the peasant as his creditor, to + pay all costs, and to give him a year’s wages as damages; the peasant’s + right to appeal ad minimum on account of any other complaints he might + have being reserved. + </p> + <p> + The advocate looked downcast, but Torriano consoled him by a fee of six + sequins, and everybody went away. + </p> + <p> + I remained with the defendant, and asked him if he meant to appeal to + Vienna. + </p> + <p> + “I shall appeal in another sort,” said he; but I did not ask him what he + meant. + </p> + <p> + We left Gorice the next morning. + </p> + <p> + My landlord gave me the bill, and told me he had received instructions not + to insist on my paying it if I made any difficulty, as in that case the + count would pay himself. + </p> + <p> + This struck me as somewhat eccentric, but I only laughed. However, the + specimens I had seen of his character made me imagine that I was going to + spend six weeks with a dangerous original. + </p> + <p> + In two hours we were at Spessa, and alighted at a large house, with + nothing distinguished about it from an architectural point of view. We + went up to the count’s room, which was tolerably furnished, and after + shewing me over the house he took me to my own room. It was on the ground + floor, stuffy, dark, and ill furnished. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said he, “this is the room my poor old father used to love to sit + in; like you, he was very fond of study. You may be sure of enjoying + perfect liberty here, for you will see no one.” + </p> + <p> + We dined late, and consequently no supper was served. The eating and the + wine were tolerable, and so was the company of a priest, who held the + position of the count’s steward; but I was disgusted at hearing the count, + who ate ravenously, reproach me with eating too slowly. + </p> + <p> + When we rose from table he told me he had a lot to do, and that we should + see each other the next day. + </p> + <p> + I went to my room to put things in order, and to get out my papers. I was + then working at the second volume of the Polish troubles. + </p> + <p> + In the evening I asked for a light as it was growing dark, and presently a + servant came with one candle. I was indignant; they ought to have given me + wax lights or a lamp at least. However, I made no complaint, merely asking + one of the servants if I was to rely on the services of any amongst them. + </p> + <p> + “Our master has given us no instructions on the subject, but of course we + will wait on you whenever you call us.” + </p> + <p> + This would have been a troublesome task, as there was no bell, and I + should have been obliged to wander all over the house, to search the + courtyard, and perhaps the road, whenever I wanted a servant. + </p> + <p> + “And who will do my room?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “The maid.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she has a key of her own?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no need for a key, as your door has no lock, but you can bolt + yourself in at night.” + </p> + <p> + I could only laugh, whether from ill humour or amusement I really cannot + say. However, I made no remark to the man. + </p> + <p> + I began my task, but in half an hour I was so unfortunate as to put out + the candle whilst snuffing it. I could not roam about the house in the + dark searching for a light, as I did not know my way, so I went to bed in + the dark more inclined to swear than to laugh. + </p> + <p> + Fortunately the bed was a good one, and as I had expected it to be + uncomfortable I went to sleep in a more tranquil humour. + </p> + <p> + In the morning nobody came to attend on me, so I got up, and after putting + away my papers I went to say good morning to my host in dressing-gown and + nightcap. I found him under the hand of one of his men who served him as a + valet. I told him I had slept well, and had come to breakfast with him; + but he said he never took breakfast, and asked me, politely enough, not to + trouble to come and see him in the morning as he was always engaged with + his tenants, who were a pack of thieves. He then added that as I took + breakfast he would give orders to the cook to send me up coffee whenever I + liked. + </p> + <p> + “You will also be kind enough to tell your man to give me a touch with his + comb after he has done with you.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder you did not bring a servant.” + </p> + <p> + “If I had guessed that I should be troubling you, I should certainly have + brought one.” + </p> + <p> + “It will not trouble me but you, for you will be kept waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. Another thing I want is a lock to my door, for I have + important papers for which I am responsible, and I cannot lock them up in + my trunk whenever I leave my room.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything is safe in my house.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, but you see how absurd it would be for you to be answerable in + case any of my papers were missing. I might be in the greatest distress, + and yet I should never tell you of it.” + </p> + <p> + He remained silent for some time, and then ordered his man to tell the + priest to put a lock on my door and give me the key. + </p> + <p> + While he was thinking, I noticed a taper and a book on the table beside + his bed. I went up to it, and asked politely if I might see what kind of + reading had beguiled him to sleep. He replied as politely, requesting me + not to touch it. I withdrew immediately, telling him with a smile that I + felt sure that it was a book of prayers, but that I would never reveal his + secret. + </p> + <p> + “You have guessed what it is,” he said, laughing. + </p> + <p> + I left him with a courteous bow, begging him to send me his man and a cup + of coffee, chocolate, or broth, it mattered not which. + </p> + <p> + I went back to my room meditating seriously on his strange behaviour, and + especially on the wretched tallow candle which was given me, while he had + a wax taper. My first idea was to leave the house immediately, for though + I had only fifty ducats in my possession my spirit was as high as when I + was a rich man; but on second thoughts I determined not to put myself in + the wrong by affronting him in such a signal manner. + </p> + <p> + The tallow candle was the most grievous wrong, so I resolved to ask the + man whether he had not been told to give me wax lights. This was + important, as it might be only a piece of knavery or stupidity on the part + of the servant. + </p> + <p> + The man came in an hour with a cup of coffee, sugared according to his + taste or that of the cook. This disgusted me, so I let it stay on the + table, telling him, with a burst of laughter (if I had not laughed I must + have thrown the coffee in his face), that that was not the way to serve + breakfast. I then got ready to have my hair done. + </p> + <p> + I asked him why he had brought me a wretched tallow candle instead of two + wax lights. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” the worthy man replied, humbly, “I could only give you what the + priest gave me; I received a wax taper for my master and a candle for + you.” + </p> + <p> + I was sorry to have vexed the poor fellow, and said no more, thinking the + priest might have taken a fancy to economise for the count’s profit or his + own. I determined to question him on the subject. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I was dressed I went out to walk off my bad humour. I met the + priest-steward, who had been to the locksmith. He told me that the man had + no ready-made locks, but he was going to fit my door with a padlock, of + which I should have the key. + </p> + <p> + “Provided I can lock my door,” I said, “I care not how it’s done.” + </p> + <p> + I returned to the house to see the padlock fitted, and while the locksmith + was hammering away I asked the priest why he had given a tallow candle + instead of one or two wax tapers. + </p> + <p> + “I should never dare to give you tapers, sir, without express orders from + the count.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have thought such a thing would go without saying.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in other houses, but here nothing goes without saying. I have to buy + the tapers and he pays me, and every time he has one it is noted down.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you can give me a pound of wax lights if I pay you for them?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, but I think I must tell the count, for you know . . . .” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know all about it, but I don’t care.” + </p> + <p> + I gave him the price of a pound of wax lights, and went for a walk, as he + told me dinner was at one. I was somewhat astonished on coming back to the + house at half-past twelve to be told that the count had been half an hour + at table. + </p> + <p> + I did not know what to make of all these acts of rudeness; however, I + moderated my passion once more, and came in remarking that the abbe had + told me dinner was at one. + </p> + <p> + “It is usually,” replied the count, “but to-day I wanted to pay some calls + and take you with me, so I decided on dining at noon. You will have plenty + of time.” + </p> + <p> + He then gave orders for all the dishes that had been taken away to be + brought back. + </p> + <p> + I made no answer, and sat down to table, and feigning good humour ate what + was on the table, refusing to touch those dishes which had been taken + away. He vainly asked me to try the soup, the beef, the entrees; I told + him that I always punished myself thus when I came in late for a + nobleman’s dinner. + </p> + <p> + Still dissembling my ill humour, I got into his carriage to accompany him + on his round of visits. He took me to Baron del Mestre, who spent the + whole of the year in the country with his family, keeping up a good + establishment. + </p> + <p> + The count spent the whole of the day with the baron, putting off the other + visits to a future time. In the evening we returned to Spessa. Soon after + we arrived the priest returned the money I had given him for the candles, + telling me that the count had forgotten to inform him that I was to be + treated as himself. + </p> + <p> + I took this acknowledgement for what it was worth. + </p> + <p> + Supper was served, and I ate with the appetite of four, while the count + hardly ate at all. + </p> + <p> + The servant who escorted me to my room asked me at what time I should like + breakfast. I told him, and he was punctual; and this time the coffee was + brought in the coffee-pot and the sugar in the sugar basin. + </p> + <p> + The valet did my hair, and the maid did my room, everything was changed, + and I imagined that I had given the count a little lesson, and that I + should have no more trouble with him. Here, however, I was mistaken, as + the reader will discover. + </p> + <p> + Three or four days later the priest came to me one morning, to ask when I + would like dinner, as I was to dine in my room. + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Because the count left yesterday for Gorice, telling me he did not know + when he should come back. He ordered me to give you your meals in your + room.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. I will dine at one.” + </p> + <p> + No one could be more in favour of liberty and independence than myself, + but I could not help feeling that my rough host should have told me he was + going to Gorice. He stayed a week, and I should have died of weariness if + it had not been for my daily visits to the Baron del Mestre. Otherwise + there was no company, the priest was an uneducated man, and there were no + pretty country girls. I felt as if I could not bear another four weeks of + such a doleful exile. + </p> + <p> + When the count came back, I spoke to him plainly. + </p> + <p> + “I came to Spessa,” I said, “to keep you company and to amuse myself; but + I see that I am in the way, so I hope you will take me back to Gorice and + leave me there. You must know that I like society as much as you do, and I + do not feel inclined to die of solitary weariness in your house.” + </p> + <p> + He assured me that it should not happen again, that he had gone to Gorice + to meet an actress, who had come there purposely to see him, and that he + had also profited by the opportunity to sign a contract of marriage with a + Venetian lady. + </p> + <p> + These excuses and the apparently polite tone in which they were uttered + induced me to prolong my stay with the extraordinary count. + </p> + <p> + He drew the whole of his income from vineyards, which produced an + excellent white wine and a revenue of a thousand sequins a year. However, + as the count did his best to spend double that amount, he was rapidly + ruining himself. He had a fixed impression that all the tenants robbed + him, so whenever he found a bunch of grapes in a cottage he proceeded to + beat the occupants unless they could prove that the grapes did not come + from his vineyards. The peasants might kneel down and beg pardon, but they + were thrashed all the same. + </p> + <p> + I had been an unwilling witness of several of these arbitrary and cruel + actions, when one day I had the pleasure of seeing the count soundly + beaten by two peasants. He had struck the first blow himself, but when he + found that he was getting the worst of it he prudently took to his heels. + </p> + <p> + He was much offended with me for remaining a mere spectator of the fray; + but I told him very coolly that, being the aggressor, he was in the wrong, + and in the second place I was not going to expose myself to be beaten to a + jelly by two lusty peasants in another man’s quarrel. + </p> + <p> + These arguments did not satisfy him, and in his rage he dared to tell me + that I was a scurvy coward not to know that it was my duty to defend a + friend to the death. + </p> + <p> + In spite of these offensive remarks I merely replied with a glance of + contempt, which he doubtless understood. + </p> + <p> + Before long the whole village had heard what had happened, and the joy was + universal, for the count had the singular privilege of being feared by all + and loved by none. The two rebellious peasants had taken to their heels. + But when it became known that his lordship had announced his resolution to + carry pistols with him in all future visits, everybody was alarmed, and + two spokesmen were sent to the count informing him that all his tenants + would quit the estate in a week’s time unless he gave them a promise to + leave them in peace in their humble abodes. + </p> + <p> + The rude eloquence of the two peasants struck me as sublime, but the count + pronounced them to be impertinent and ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + “We have as good a right to taste the vines which we have watered with the + sweat of our brow,” said they, “as your cook has to taste the dishes + before they are served on your table.” + </p> + <p> + The threat of deserting just at the vintage season frightened the count, + and he had to give in, and the embassy went its way in high glee at its + success. + </p> + <p> + Next Sunday we went to the chapel to hear mass, and when we came in the + priest was at the altar finishing the Credo. The count looked furious, and + after mass he took me with him to the sacristy, and begun to abuse and + beat the poor priest, in spite of the surplice which he was still wearing. + It was really a shocking sight. + </p> + <p> + The priest spat in his face and cried help, that being the only revenge in + his power. + </p> + <p> + Several persons ran in, so we left the sacristy. I was scandalised, and I + told the count that the priest would be certain to go to Udine, and that + it might turn out a very awkward business. + </p> + <p> + “Try to prevent his doing so,” I added, “even by violence, but in the + first place endeavour to pacify him.” + </p> + <p> + No doubt the count was afraid, for he called out to his servants and + ordered them to fetch the priest, whether he could come or no. His order + was executed, and the priest was led in, foaming with rage, cursing the + count, calling him excommunicated wretch, whose very breath was poisonous; + swearing that never another mass should be sung in the chapel that had + been polluted with sacrilege, and finally promising that the archbishop + should avenge him. + </p> + <p> + The count let him say on, and then forced him into a chair, and the + unworthy ecclesiastic not only ate but got drunk. Thus peace was + concluded, and the abbe forgot all his wrongs. + </p> + <p> + A few days later two Capuchins came to visit him at noon. They did not go, + and as he did not care to dismiss them, dinner was served without any + place being laid for the friars. Thereupon the bolder of the two informed + the count that he had had no dinner. Without replying, the count had him + accommodated with a plateful of rice. The Capuchin refused it, saying that + he was worthy to sit, not only at his table, but at a monarch’s. The + count, who happened to be in a good humour, replied that they called + themselves “unworthy brethren,” and that they were consequently not worthy + of any of this world’s good things. + </p> + <p> + The Capuchin made but a poor answer, and as I thought the count to be in + the right I proceeded to back him up, telling the friar he ought to be + ashamed at having committed the sin of pride, so strictly condemned by the + rules of his order. + </p> + <p> + The Capuchin answered me with a torrent of abuse, so the count ordered a + pair of scissors to be brought, that the beards of the filthy rogues might + be cut off. At this awful threat the two friars made their escape, and we + laughed heartily over the incident. + </p> + <p> + If all the count’s eccentricities had been of this comparatively harmless + and amusing nature, I should not have minded, but such was far from being + the case. + </p> + <p> + Instead of chyle his organs must have distilled some virulent poison; he + was always at his worst in his after dinner hours. His appetite was + furious; he ate more like a tiger than a man. One day we happened to be + eating woodcock, and I could not help praising the dish in the style of + the true gourmand. He immediately took up his bird, tore it limb from + limb, and gravely bade me not to praise the dishes I liked as it irritated + him. I felt an inclination to laugh and also an inclination to throw the + bottle at his head, which I should probably have indulged in had I been + twenty years younger. However, I did neither, feeling that I should either + leave him or accommodate myself to his humours. + </p> + <p> + Three months later Madame Costa, the actress whom he had gone to see at + Gorice, told me that she would never have believed in the possibility of + such a creature existing if she had not known Count Torriano. + </p> + <p> + “Though he is a vigorous lover,” she continued, “it is a matter of great + difficulty with him to obtain the crisis; and the wretched woman in his + arms is in imminent danger of being strangled to death if she cannot + conceal her amorous ecstacy. He cannot bear to see another’s pleasure. I + pity his wife most heartily.” + </p> + <p> + I will now relate the incident which put an end to my relations with this + venomous creature. + </p> + <p> + Amidst the idleness and weariness of Spessa I happened to meet a very + pretty and very agreeable young widow. I made her some small presents, and + finally persuaded her to pass the night in my room. She came at midnight + to avoid observation, and left at day-break by a small door which opened + on to the road. + </p> + <p> + We had amused ourselves in this pleasant manner for about a week, when one + morning my sweetheart awoke me that I might close the door after her as + usual. I had scarcely done so when I heard cries for help. I quickly + opened it again, and I saw the scoundrelly Torriano holding the widow with + one hand while he beat her furiously with a stick he held in the other. I + rushed upon him, and we fell together, while the poor woman made her + escape. + </p> + <p> + I had only my dressing-gown on, and here I was at a disadvantage; for + civilized man is a poor creature without his clothes. However, I held the + stick with one hand, while I squeezed his throat with the other. On his + side he clung to the stick with his right hand, and pulled my hair with + the left. At last his tongue started out and he had to let go. + </p> + <p> + I was on my feet again in an instant, and seizing the stick I aimed a + sturdy blow at his head, which, luckily for him, he partially parried. + </p> + <p> + I did not strike again, so he got up, ran a little way, and began to pick + up stones. However, I did not wait to be pelted, but shut myself in my + room and lay down on the bed, only sorry that I had not choked the villain + outright. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I had rested I looked to my pistols, dressed myself, and went + out with the intention of looking for some kind of conveyance to take me + back to Gorice. Without knowing it I took a road that led me to the + cottage of the poor widow, whom I found looking calm though sad. She told + me she had received most of the blows on her shoulders, and was not much + hurt. What vexed her was that the affair would become public, as two + peasants had seen the count beating her, and our subsequent combat. + </p> + <p> + I gave her two sequins, begging her to come and see me at Gorice, and to + tell me where I could find a conveyance. + </p> + <p> + Her sister offered to shew me the way to a farm, where I could get what I + wanted. On the way she told me that Torriano had been her sister’s enemy + before the death of her husband because she rejected all his proposals. + </p> + <p> + I found a good conveyance at the farm, and the man promised to drive me in + to Gorice by dinner-time. + </p> + <p> + I gave him half-a-crown as an earnest, and went away, telling him to come + for me. + </p> + <p> + I returned to the count’s and had scarcely finished getting ready when the + conveyance drove up. + </p> + <p> + I was about to put my luggage in it, when a servant came from the count + asking me to give him a moment’s conversation. + </p> + <p> + I wrote a note in French, saying that after what had passed we ought not + to meet again under his roof. + </p> + <p> + A minute later he came into my room, and shut the door, saying,— + </p> + <p> + “As you won’t speak to me, I have come to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you got to say?” + </p> + <p> + “If you leave my house in this fashion you will dishonour me, and I will + not allow it.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, but I should very much like to see how you are going to + prevent me from leaving your house.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not allow you to go by yourself; we must go together.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; I understand you perfectly. Get your sword or your pistols, + and we will start directly. There is room for two in the carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “That won’t do. You must dine with me, and then we can go in my carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “You make a mistake. I should be a fool if I dined with you when our + miserable dispute is all over the village; to-morrow it will have reached + Gorice.” + </p> + <p> + “If you won’t dine with me, I will dine with you, and people may say what + they like. We will go after dinner, so send away that conveyance.” + </p> + <p> + I had to give in to him. The wretched count stayed with me till noon, + endeavouring to persuade me that he had a perfect right to beat a + country-woman in the road, and that I was altogether in the wrong. + </p> + <p> + I laughed, and said I wondered how he derived his right to beat a free + woman anywhere, and that his pretence that I being her lover had no right + to protect her was a monstrous one. + </p> + <p> + “She had just left my arms,” I continued, “was I not therefore her natural + protector? Only a coward or a monster like yourself would have remained + indifferent, though, indeed, I believe that even you would have done the + same.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes before we sat down to dinner he said that neither of us + would profit by the adventure, as he meant the duel to be to the death. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t agree with you as far as I am concerned,” I replied; “and as to + the duel, you can fight or not fight, as you please; for my part I have + had satisfaction. If we come to a duel I hope to leave you in the land of + the living, though I shall do my best to lay you up for a considerable + time, so that you may have leisure to reflect on your folly. On the other + hand, if fortune favours you, you may act as you please.” + </p> + <p> + “We will go into the wood by ourselves, and my coachman shall have orders + to drive you wherever you like if you come out of the wood by yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good indeed; and which would you prefer—swords or pistols?” + </p> + <p> + “Swords, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I promise to unload my pistols as soon as we get into the carriage.” + </p> + <p> + I was astonished to find the usually brutal count become quite polite at + the prospect of a duel. I felt perfectly confident myself, as I was sure + of flooring him at the first stroke by a peculiar lunge. Then I could + escape through Venetian territory where I was not known. + </p> + <p> + But I had good reasons for supposing that the duel would end in smoke as + so many other duels when one of the parties is a coward, and a coward I + believed the count to be. + </p> + <p> + We started after an excellent dinner; the count having no luggage, and + mine being strapped behind the carriage. + </p> + <p> + I took care to draw the charges of my pistols before the count. + </p> + <p> + I had heard him tell the coachman to drive towards Gorice, but every + moment I expected to hear him order the man to drive up this or that + turning that we might settle our differences. + </p> + <p> + I asked no questions, feeling that the initiative lay with him; but we + drove on till we were at the gates of Gorice, and I burst out laughing + when I heard the count order the coachman to drive to the posting inn. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we got there he said,— + </p> + <p> + “You were in the right; we must remain friends. Promise me not to tell + anyone of what has happened.” + </p> + <p> + I gave him the promise; we shook hands, and everything was over. + </p> + <p> + The next day I took up my abode in one of the quietest streets to finish + my second volume on the Polish troubles, but I still managed to enjoy + myself during my stay at Gorice. At last I resolved on returning to + Trieste, where I had more chances of serving and pleasing the State + Inquisitors. + </p> + <p> + I stayed at Gorice till the end of the year 1773, and passed an extremely + pleasant six weeks. + </p> + <p> + My adventure at Spessa had become public property. At first everybody + addressed me on the subject, but as I laughed and treated the whole thing + as a joke it would soon be forgotten. Torriano took care to be most polite + whenever we met; but I had stamped him as a dangerous character, and + whenever he asked me to dinner or supper I had other engagements. + </p> + <p> + During the carnival he married the young lady of whom he had spoken to me, + and as long as he lived her life was misery. Fortunately he died a madman + thirteen or fourteen years after. + </p> + <p> + Whilst I was at Gorice Count Charles Coronini contributed greatly to my + enjoyment. He died four years later, and a month before his death he sent + me his will in ostosyllabic Italian verses—a specimen of philosophic + mirth which I still preserve. It is full of jest and wit, though I believe + if he had guessed the near approach of death he would not have been so + cheerful, for the prospect of imminent destruction can only enliven the + heart of a maniac. + </p> + <p> + During my stay at Gorice a certain M. Richard Lorrain came there. He was a + bachelor of forty, who had done good financial service under the Viennese + Government, and had now retired with a comfortable pension. He was a fine + man, and his agreeable manners and excellent education procured him + admission into the best company in the town. + </p> + <p> + I met him at the house of Count Torres, and soon after he was married to + the young countess. + </p> + <p> + In October the new Council of Ten and the new Inquisitors took office, and + my protectors wrote to me that if they could not obtain my pardon in the + course of the next twelve months they would be inclined to despair. The + first of the Inquisitors was Sagredo, and intimate friend of the + Procurator Morosini’s; the second, Grimani, the friend of my good Dandolo; + and M. Zaguri wrote to me that he would answer for the third, who, + according to law, was one of the six councillors who assist the Council of + Ten. + </p> + <p> + It may not be generally known that the Council of Ten is really a council + of seventeen, as the Doge has always a right to be present. + </p> + <p> + I returned to Trieste determined to do my best for the Tribunal, for I + longed to return to Venice after nineteen years’ wanderings. + </p> + <p> + I was then forty-nine, and I expected no more of Fortune’s gifts, for the + deity despises those of ripe age. I thought, however, that I might live + comfortably and independently at Venice. + </p> + <p> + I had talents and experience, I hoped to make use of them, and I thought + the Inquisitors would feel bound to give me some sufficient employment. + </p> + <p> + I was writing the history of the Polish troubles, the first volume was + printed, the second was in preparation, and I thought of concluding the + work in seven volumes. Afterwards I had a translation of the “Iliad” in + view, and other literary projects would no doubt present themselves. + </p> + <p> + In fine, I thought myself sure of living in Venice, where many persons who + would be beggars elsewhere continue to live at their ease. + </p> + <p> + I left Gorice on the last day of December, 1773, and on January 1st I took + up my abode at Trieste. + </p> + <p> + I could not have received a warmer welcome. Baron Pittoni, the Venetian + consul, all the town councillors, and the members of the club, seemed + delighted to see me again. My carnival was a pleasant one, and in the + beginning of Lent I published the second volume of my work on Poland. + </p> + <p> + The chief object of interest to me at Trieste was an actress in a company + that was playing there. She was no other than the daughter of the + so-called Count Rinaldi, and my readers may remember her under the name of + Irene. I had loved her at Milan, and neglected her at Genoa on account of + her father’s misdeeds, and at Avignon I had rescued her at Marcoline’s + request. Eleven years had passed by since I had heard of her. + </p> + <p> + I was astonished to see her, and I think more sorry than glad, for she was + still beautiful, and I might fall in love again; and being no longer in a + position to give her assistance, the issue might be unfortunate for me. + However, I called on her the next day, and was greeted with a shriek of + delight. She told me she had seen me at the theatre, and felt sure I would + come and see her. + </p> + <p> + She introduced me to her husband, who played parts like Scapin, and to her + nine-year-old daughter, who had a talent for dancing. + </p> + <p> + She gave me an abridged account of her life since we had met. In the year + I had seen her at Avignon she had gone to Turin with her father. At Turin + she fell in love with her present husband, and left her parents to join + her lot to his. + </p> + <p> + “Since that,” she said, “I have heard of my father’s death, but I do not + know what has become of my mother.” + </p> + <p> + After some further conversation she told me she was a faithful wife, + though she did not push fidelity so far as to drive a rich lover to + despair. + </p> + <p> + “I have no lovers here,” she added, “but I give little suppers to a few + friends. I don’t mind the expense, as I win some money at faro.” + </p> + <p> + She was the banker, and she begged me to join the party now and then. + </p> + <p> + “I will come after the play to-night,” I replied, “but you must not expect + any high play of me.” + </p> + <p> + I kept the appointment and supped with a number of silly young tradesmen, + who were all in love with her. + </p> + <p> + After supper she held a bank, and I was greatly astonished when I saw her + cheating with great dexterity. It made me want to laugh; however, I lost + my florins with a good grace and left. However, I did not mean to let + Irene think she was duping me, and I went to see her next morning at + rehearsal, and complimented her on her dealing. She pretended not to + understand what I meant, and on my explaining myself she had the impudence + to tell me that I was mistaken. + </p> + <p> + In my anger I turned my back on her saying, “You will be sorry for this + some day.” + </p> + <p> + At this she began to laugh, and said, “Well, well, I confess! and if you + tell me how much you lost you shall have it back, and if you like you + shall be a partner in the game.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you, Irene, I will not be present at any more of your suppers. + But I warn you to be cautious; games of chance are strictly forbidden.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, but all the young men have promised strict secrecy.” + </p> + <p> + “Come and breakfast with me whenever you like.” + </p> + <p> + A few days later she came, bringing her daughter with her. The girl was + pretty, and allowed me to caress her. + </p> + <p> + One day Baron Pittoni met them at my lodgings, and as he liked young girls + as well as I he begged Irene to make her daughter include him in her list + of favoured lovers. + </p> + <p> + I advised her not to reject the offer, and the baron fell in love with + her, which was a piece of luck for Irene, as she was accused of playing + unlawful games, and would have been severely treated if the baron had not + given her warning. When the police pounced on her, they found no gaming + and no gamesters, and nothing could be done. + </p> + <p> + Irene left Trieste at the beginning of Lent with the company to which she + belonged. Three years later I saw her again at Padua. Her daughter had + become a charming girl, and our acquaintance was renewed in the tenderest + manner. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [Thus abruptly end the Memoirs of Giacome Casanova, + Chevalier de Seingalt, Knight of the Golden Spur, + Prothonotary Apostolic, and Scoundrel Cosmopolitic.] +</pre> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0028" id="linkF2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <a name="linkepisode30" id="linkepisode30"></a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EPISODE 30 — OLD AGE AND DEATH OF CASANOVA + </h2> + <a name="linkF2H_APPE" id="linkF2H_APPE"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + APPENDIX AND SUPPLEMENT + </h2> + <p> + Whether the author died before the work was complete, whether the + concluding volumes were destroyed by himself or his literary executors, or + whether the MS. fell into bad hands, seems a matter of uncertainty, and + the materials available towards a continuation of the Memoirs are + extremely fragmentary. We know, however, that Casanova at last succeeded + in obtaining his pardon from the authorities of the Republic, and he + returned to Venice, where he exercised the honourable office of secret + agent of the State Inquisitors—in plain language, he became a spy. + It seems that the Knight of the Golden Spur made a rather indifferent + “agent;” not surely, as a French writer suggests, because the dirty work + was too dirty for his fingers, but probably because he was getting old and + stupid and out-of-date, and failed to keep in touch with new forms of + turpitude. He left Venice again and paid a visit to Vienna, saw beloved + Paris once more, and there met Count Wallenstein, or Waldstein. The + conversation turned on magic and the occult sciences, in, which Casanova + was an adept, as the reader of the Memoirs will remember, and the count + took a fancy to the charlatan. In short Casanova became librarian at the + count’s Castle of Dux, near Teplitz, and there he spent the fourteen + remaining years of his life. + </p> + <p> + As the Prince de Ligne (from whose Memoirs we learn these particulars) + remarks, Casanova’s life had been a stormy and adventurous one, and it + might have been expected that he would have found his patron’s library a + pleasant refuge after so many toils and travels. But the man carried rough + weather and storm in his own heart, and found daily opportunities of + mortification and resentment. The coffee was ill made, the maccaroni not + cooked in the true Italian style, the dogs had bayed during the night, he + had been made to dine at a small table, the parish priest had tried to + convert him, the soup had been served too hot on purpose to annoy him, he + had not been introduced to a distinguished guest, the count had lent a + book without telling him, a groom had not taken off his hat; such were his + complaints. The fact is Casanova felt his dependent position and his utter + poverty, and was all the more determined to stand to his dignity as a man + who had talked with all the crowned heads of Europe, and had fought a duel + with the Polish general. And he had another reason for finding life bitter—he + had lived beyond his time. Louis XV. was dead, and Louis XVI. had been + guillotined; the Revolution had come; and Casanova, his dress, and his + manners, appeared as odd and antique as some “blood of the Regency” would + appear to us of these days. Sixty years before, Marcel, the famous + dancing-master, had taught young Casanova how to enter a room with a lowly + and ceremonious bow; and still, though the eighteenth century is drawing + to a close, old Casanova enters the rooms of Dux with the same stately + bow, but now everyone laughs. Old Casanova treads the grave measures of + the minuet; they applauded his dancing once, but now everyone laughs. + Young Casanova was always dressed in the height of the fashion; but the + age of powder, wigs, velvets, and silks has departed, and old Casanova’s + attempts at elegance (“Strass” diamonds have replaced the genuine stones + with him) are likewise greeted with laughter. No wonder the old adventurer + denounces the whole house of Jacobins and canaille; the world, he feels, + is permanently out of joint for him; everything is cross, and everyone is + in a conspiracy to drive the iron into his soul. + </p> + <p> + At last these persecutions, real or imaginary, drive him away from Dux; he + considers his genius bids him go, and, as before, he obeys. Casanova has + but little pleasure or profit out of this his last journey; he has to + dance attendance in ante-chambers; no one will give him any office, + whether as tutor, librarian, or chamberlain. In one quarter only is he + well received—namely, by the famous Duke of Weimar; but in a few + days he becomes madly jealous of the duke’s more famous proteges, Goethe + and Wieland, and goes off declaiming against them and German literature + generally—with which literature he was wholly unacquainted. From + Weimar to Berlin; where there are Jews to whom he has introductions. + Casanova thinks them ignorant, superstitious, and knavish; but they lend + him money, and he gives bills on Count Wallenstein, which are paid. In six + weeks the wanderer returns to Dux, and is welcomed with open arms; his + journeys are over at last. + </p> + <p> + But not his troubles. A week after his return there are strawberries at + dessert; everyone is served before himself, and when the plate comes round + to him it is empty. Worse still: his portrait is missing from his room, + and is discovered ‘salement placarde a la porte des lieux d’aisance’! + </p> + <p> + Five more years of life remained to him. They were passed in such petty + mortifications as we have narrated, in grieving over his ‘afreuse + vieillesse’, and in laments over the conquest of his native land Venice, + once so splendid and powerful. His appetite began to fail, and with it + failed his last source of pleasure, so death came to him somewhat as a + release. He received the sacraments with devotion, exclaimed,— + </p> + <p> + “Grand Dieu, et vous tous temoins de ma mort, j’ai vecu en philosophe, et + je meurs en Chretien,” and so died. + </p> + <p> + It was a quiet ending to a wonderfully brilliant and entirely useless + career. It has been suggested that if the age in which Casanova lived had + been less corrupt, he himself might have used his all but universal + talents to some advantage, but to our mind Casanova would always have + remained Casanova. He came of a family of adventurers, and the reader of + his Memoirs will remark how he continually ruined his prospects by his + ineradicable love for disreputable company. His “Bohemianism” was in his + blood, and in his old age he regrets—not his past follies, but his + inability to commit folly any longer. Now and again we are inclined to + pronounce Casanova to be an amiable man; and if to his generosity and good + nature he had added some elementary knowledge of the distinction between + right and wrong, he might certainly have laid some claim to the character. + The Prince de Ligne draws the following portrait of him under the name of + Aventuros: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +“He would be a handsome man if he were not ugly; he is tall and strongly +built, but his dark complexion and his glittering eyes give him a fierce +expression. He is easier to annoy than amuse; he laughs little but makes +others laugh by the peculiar turn he gives to his conversation. He knows +everything except those matters on the knowledge of which he chiefly +prides himself, namely, dancing, the French language, good taste, and +knowledge of the world. Everything about him is comic, except his +comedies; and all his writings are philosophical, saving those which +treat of philosophy. He is a perfect well of knowledge, but he quotes +Homer and Horace ad nauseam.” + + SUPPLEMENT + + TO + + THE MEMOIRS OF + JACQUES CASANOVA + DE SEINGALT +</pre> + <p> + Containing an Outline of Casanova’s career from the year 1774, when his + own Memoirs abruptly end, until his death in 1798 + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_PART" id="linkF2H_PART"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART THE FIRST — VENICE 1774-1782 + </h2> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0031" id="linkF2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I — CASANOVA’S RETURN TO VENICE + </h2> + <p> + Thus Casanova ended his Memoirs, concluding his narrative with his sojourn + at Trieste, in January 1774, where he had remained, except for a few + excursions, since the 15th November 1772. He was forty-nine years of age. + Since his unfortunate experiences in England, the loss of his fortune and + the failure of his efforts to obtain congenial and remunerative employment + in Germany or Russia, he had come to concentrate his efforts on a return + to his native city. + </p> + <p> + Of his faithful friends, the nobles Bragadin, Barbaro and Dandolo, the + first had died in 1767, having gone into debt “that I might have enough,” + sending Casanova, from his death-bed, a last gift of a thousand crowns. + Barbaro who had died also, in 1771, left Casanova a life-income of six + sequins a month. The survivor, Dandolo, was poor, but until his death, he + also gave Casanova a monthly provision of six sequins. However, Casanova + was not without influential friends who might not only obtain a pardon + from the State Inquisitors but also assist him to employment; and, in + fact, it was through such influence as that wielded by the Avogador Zaguri + and the Procurator Morosini, that Casanova received his pardon, and later, + a position as “Confidant,” or Secret Agent, to the Inquisitors at Venice. + </p> + <p> + Casanova re-entered Venice the 14th September 1774 and, presenting + himself, on the 18th, to Marc-Antoine Businello, Secretary of the Tribunal + of the Inquisitors of State, was advised that mercy had been accorded him + by reason of his refutation of the History of the Venetian Government by + Amelot de la Houssaie which he had written during his forty-two day + imprisonment at Barcelona in 1768. The three Inquisitors, Francesco + Grimani, Francesco Sagredo and Paolo Bembo, invited him to dinner to hear + his story of his escape from The Leads. + </p> + <p> + In 1772, Bandiera, the Republic’s resident at Ancona, drew this portrait + of Casanova: + </p> + <p> + “One sees everywhere this unhappy rebel against the justice of the August + Council, presenting himself boldly, his head carried high, and well + equipped. He is received in many houses and announces his intention of + going to Trieste and, from there, of returning to Germany. He is a man of + forty years or more,” [in reality, forty-seven] “of high stature and + excellent appearance, vigorous, of a very brown color, the eye bright, the + wig short and chestnut-brown. He is said to be haughty and disdainful; he + speaks at length, with spirit and erudition.” [Letter of information to + the Very Illustrious Giovanni Zon, Secretary of the August Council of Ten + at Venice. 2 October 1772.] + </p> + <p> + Returning to Venice after an absence of eighteen years, Casanova renewed + his acquaintance with many old friends, among whom were: + </p> + <p> + The Christine of the Memoirs. Charles, who married Christine, the marriage + being arranged by Casanova while in Venice in 1747, was of financial + assistance to Casanova, who “found him a true friend.” Charles died “a few + months before my last departure from Venice,” in 1783. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. X—— C—— V——, really Giustina de + Wynne, widow of the Count Rosenberg, Austrian Ambassador at Venice. + “Fifteen years afterwards, I saw her again and she was a widow, happy + enough, apparently, and enjoying a great reputation on account of her + rank, wit and social qualities, but our connection was never renewed.” + </p> + <p> + Callimena, who was kind to him “for love’s sake alone” at Sorrento in + 1770. + </p> + <p> + Marcoline, the girl he took away from his younger brother, the Abby + Casanova, at Geneva in 1763. + </p> + <p> + Father Balbi, the companion of his flight from The Leads. + </p> + <p> + Doctor Gozzi, his former teacher at Padua, now become Arch-Priest of St. + George of the Valley, and his sister Betting. “When I went to pay him a + visit . . . she breathed her last in my arms, in 1776, twenty-four hours + after my arrival. I will speak of her death in due time.” + </p> + <p> + Angela Toselli, his first passion. In 1758 this girl married the advocate + Francesco Barnaba Rizzotti, and in the following year she gave birth to a + daughter, Maria Rizzotti (later married to a M. Kaiser) who lived at + Vienna and whose letters to Casanova were preserved at Dux. + </p> + <p> + C—— C——, the young girl whose love affair with + Casanova became involved with that of the nun M—— M—— + Casanova found her in Venice “a widow and poorly off.” + </p> + <p> + The dancing girl Binetti, who assisted Casanova in his flight from + Stuttgart in 1760, whom he met again in London in 1763, and who was the + cause of his duel with Count Branicki at Warsaw in 1766. She danced + frequently at Venice between 1769 and 1780. + </p> + <p> + The good and indulgent Mme. Manzoni, “of whom I shall have to speak very + often.” + </p> + <p> + The patricians Andrea Memmo and his brother Bernardo who, with P. Zaguri + were personages of considerable standing in the Republic and who remained + his constant friends. Andrea Memmo was the cause of the embarrassment in + which Mlle. X—— C—— V—— found herself + in Paris and which Casanova vainly endeavored to remove by applications of + his astonishing specific, the ‘aroph of Paracelsus’. + </p> + <p> + It was at the house of these friends that Casanova became acquainted with + the poet, Lorenzo Da Ponte. “I made his acquaintance,” says the latter, in + his own Memoirs, “at the house of Zaguri and the house of Memmo, who both + sought after his always interesting conversation, accepting from this man + all he had of good, and closing their eyes, on account of his genius, upon + the perverse parts of his nature.” + </p> + <p> + Lorenzo Da Ponte, known above all as Mozart’s librettist, and whose youth + much resembled that of Casanova, was accused of having eaten ham on Friday + and was obliged to flee from Venice in 1777, to escape the punishment of + the Tribunal of Blasphemies. In his Memoirs, he speaks unsparingly of his + compatriot and yet, as M. Rava notes, in the numerous letters he wrote + Casanova, and which were preserved at Dux, he proclaims his friendship and + admiration. + </p> + <p> + Irene Rinaldi, whom he met again at Padua in 1777, with her daughter who + “had become a charming girl; and our acquaintance was renewed in the + tenderest manner.” + </p> + <p> + The ballet-girl Adelaide, daughter of Mme. Soavi, who was also a dancer, + and of a M. de Marigny. + </p> + <p> + Barbara, who attracted Casanova’s attention at Trieste, in 1773, while he + was frequenting a family named Leo, but toward whom he had maintained an + attitude of respect. This girl, on meeting him again in 1777, declared + that “she had guessed my real feelings and had been amused by my foolish + restraint.” + </p> + <p> + At Pesaro, the Jewess Leah, with whom he had the most singular experiences + at Ancona in 1772. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0032" id="linkF2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II — RELATIONS WITH THE INQUISITORS + </h2> + <p> + Soon after reaching Venice, Casanova learned that the Landgrave of Hesse + Cassel, following the example of other German princes, wished a Venetian + correspondent for his private affairs. Through some influence he believed + he might obtain this small employment; but before applying for the + position he applied to the Secretary of the Tribunal for permission. + Apparently nothing came of this, and Casanova obtained no definite + employment until 1776. + </p> + <p> + Early in 1776, Casanova entered the service of the Tribunal of Inquisitors + as an “occasional Confidant,” under the fictitious name of Antonio + Pratiloni, giving his address as “at the Casino of S. E. Marco Dandolo.” + </p> + <p> + In October 1780, his appointment was more definitely established and he + was given a salary of fifteen ducats a month. This, with the six sequins + of life-income left by Barbaro and the six given by Dandolo, gave him a + monthly income of three hundred and eighty-four lires—about + seventy-four U. S. dollars—from 1780 until his break with the + Tribunal at the end of 1781. + </p> + <p> + In the Archives of Venice are preserved forty-eight letters from Casanova, + including the Reports he wrote as a “Confidant,” all in the same + handwriting as the manuscript of the Memoirs. The Reports may be divided + into two classes: those referring to commercial or industrial matters, and + those referring to the public morals. + </p> + <p> + Among those of the first class, we find: + </p> + <p> + A Report relating to Casanova’s success in having a change made in the + route of the weekly diligence running from Trieste to Mestre, for which + service, rendered during Casanova’s residence at Trieste in 1773, he + received encouragement and the sum of one hundred ducats from the + Tribunal. + </p> + <p> + A Report, the 8th September 1776, with information concerning the rumored + project of the future Emperor of Austria to invade Dalmatia after the + death of Maria Theresa. Casanova stated he had received this information + from a Frenchman, M. Salz de Chalabre, whom he had known in Paris twenty + years before. This M. Chalabre [printed Calabre] was the pretended nephew + of Mme. Amelin. “This young man was as like her as two drops of water, but + she did not find that a sufficient reason for avowing herself his mother.” + The boy was, in fact, the son of Mme. Amelin and of M. de Chalabre, who + had lived together for a long time. + </p> + <p> + A Report, the 12th of December 1776, of a secret mission to Trieste, in + regard to a project of the court of Vienna for making Fiume a French port; + the object being to facilitate communications between this port and the + interior of Hungary. For this inquiry, Casanova received sixteen hundred + lires, his expenditures amounting to seven hundred and sixty-six lires. + </p> + <p> + A Report, May-July 1779, of an excursion in the market of Ancona for + information concerning the commercial relations of the Pontifical States + with the Republic of Venice. At Forli, in the course of this excursion, + Casanova visited the dancing-girl Binetti. For this mission Casanova + received forty-eight sequins. + </p> + <p> + A Report, January 1780, remarking a clandestine recruiting carried out by + a certain Marrazzani for the [Prussian] regiment of Zarembal. + </p> + <p> + A Report, the 11th October 1781, regarding a so-called Baldassare + Rossetti, a Venetian subject living at Trieste, whose activities and + projects were of a nature to prejudice the commerce and industry of the + Republic. + </p> + <p> + Among the Reports relating to public morals may be noted: + </p> + <p> + December 1776. A Report on the seditious character of a ballet called + “Coriolanus.” The back of this report is inscribed: “The impressario of S. + Benedetto, Mickel de l’Agata, shall be summoned immediately; it has been + ordered that he cease, under penalty of his life, from giving the ballet + Coriolanus at the theater. Further, he is to collect and deposit all the + printed programmes of this ballet.” + </p> + <p> + December 1780. A Report calling to the attention of the Tribunal the + scandalous disorders produced in the theaters when the lights were + extinguished. + </p> + <p> + 3rd May 1781. A Report remarking that the Abbe Carlo Grimani believed + himself exempt, in his position as a priest, from the interdiction laid on + patricians against frequenting foreign ministers and their suites. On the + back of this Report is written: “Ser Jean Carlo, Abbe Grimani, to be + gently reminded, by the Secretary, of the injunction to abstain from all + commerce with foreign ministers and their adherents.” + </p> + <p> + Venetian nobles were forbidden under penalty of death from holding any + communication with foreign ambassadors or their households. This was + intended as a precaution to preserve the secrets of the Senate. + </p> + <p> + 26th November 1781. A Report concerning a painting academy where nude + studies were made, from models of both sexes, while scholars only twelve + or thirteen years of age were admitted, and where dilettantes who were + neither painters nor designers, attended the sessions. + </p> + <p> + 22nd December 1781. By order, Casanova reported to the Tribunal a list of + the principal licentious or antireligious books to be found in the + libraries and private collections at Venice: la Pucelle; la Philosophie de + l’Histoire; L’Esprit d’Helvetius; la Sainte Chandelle d’Arras; les Bijoux + indiscrets; le Portier des Chartreux; les Posies de Baffo; Ode a Priape; + de Piron; etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + In considering this Report, which has been the subject of violent + criticism, we should bear in mind three points: + </p> + <p> + first—the Inquisitors required this information; second—no one + in their employ could have been in a better position to give it than + Casanova; third—Casanova was morally and economically bound, as an + employee of the Tribunal, to furnish the information ordered, whatever his + personal distaste for the undertaking may have been. We may even assume + that he permitted himself to express his feelings in some indiscreet way, + and his break with the Tribunal followed, for, at the end of 1781, his + commission was withdrawn. Certainly, Casanova’s almost absolute dependence + on his salary, influenced the letter he wrote the Inquisitors at this + time. + </p> + <p> + “To the Illustrious and Most Excellent Lords, the Inquisitors of State: + </p> + <p> + “Filled with confusion, overwhelmed with sorrow and repentance, + recognizing myself absolutely unworthy of addressing my vile letter to + Your Excellencies confessing that I have failed in my duty in the + opportunities which presented themselves, I, Jacques Casanova, invoke, on + my knees, the mercy of the Prince; I beg that, in compassion and grace, + there may be accorded me that which, in all justice and on reflection, may + be refused me. + </p> + <p> + “I ask the Sovereign Munificence to come to my aid, so that, with the + means of subsistence, I may apply myself vigorously, in the future, to the + service to which I have been privileged. + </p> + <p> + “After this respectful supplication, the wisdom of Your Excellencies may + judge the disposition of my spirit and of my intentions.” + </p> + <p> + The Inquisitors decided to award Casanova one month’s pay, but specified + that thereafter he would receive salary only when he rendered important + services. + </p> + <p> + In 1782 Casanova made a few more Reports to the Tribunal, for one of + which, regarding the failure of an insurance and commercial house at + Trieste, he received six sequins. But the part of a guardian of the public + morals, even through necessity, was undoubtedly unpleasant to him; and, in + spite of the financial loss, it may be that his release was a relief. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0033" id="linkF2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III — FRANCESCA BUSCHINI + </h2> + <p> + Intimately connected with Casanova’s life at this period was a girl named + Francesca Buschini. This name does not appear in any of the literary, + artistic or theatrical records of the period, and, of the girl, nothing is + known other than that which she herself tells us in her letters to + Casanova. From these very human letters, however, we may obtain, not only + certain facts, but also, a very excellent idea of her character. + Thirty-two of her letters, dated between July 1779 and October 1787, + written in the Venetian dialect, were preserved in the library at Dux. + </p> + <p> + She was a seamstress, although often without work, and had a brother, a + younger sister and also a mother living with her. The probabilities are + that she was a girl of the most usual sort, but greatly attached to + Casanova who, even in his poverty, must have dazzled her as a being from + another world. She was his last Venetian love, and remained a faithful + correspondent until 1787; and it is chiefly from her letters, in which she + comments on news contained in Casanova’s letters to her, that light is + thrown on the Vienna-Paris period, particularly, of Casanova’s life. For + this, Francesca has placed us greatly in her debt. + </p> + <p> + With this girl, at least between 1779 and 1782, Casanova rented a small + house at Barbaria delle Tole, near S. Giustina, from the noble Pesaro at + S. Stae. Casanova, always in demand for his wit and learning, often took + dinner in the city. He knew that a place always awaited him at the house + of Memmo and at that of Zaguri and that, at the table of these patricians, + who were distinguished by their intellectual superiority, he would meet + men notable in science and letters. Being so long and so closely connected + with theatrical circles, he was often seen at the theater, with Francesca. + Thus, the 9th August 1786, the poor girl, in an excess of chagrin writes: + “Where are all the pleasures which formerly you procured me? Where are the + theatres, the comedies which we once saw together?” + </p> + <p> + On the 28th July 1779, Francesca wrote: + </p> + <p> + “Dearest and best beloved, + </p> + <p> + “ . . . In the way of novelties, I find nothing except that S. E. Pietro + Zaguri has arrived at Venice; his servant has been twice to ask for you, + and I have said you were still at the Baths of Abano . . .” + </p> + <p> + The Casanova-Buschini establishment kept up relations, more or less + frequent and intimate, with a few persons, most of whom are mentioned in + Francesca’s letters; the Signora Anzoletta Rizzotti; the Signora Elisabeth + Catrolli, an ancient comedienne; the Signora Bepa Pezzana; the Signora + Zenobia de Monti, possibly the mother of that Carlo de Monti, Venetian + Consul at Trieste, who was a friend to Casanova and certainly contributed + toward obtaining his pardon from the Inquisitors; a M. Lunel, master of + languages, and his wife. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0034" id="linkF2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV — PUBLICATIONS + </h2> + <h3> + Casanova’s principal writings during this period were: + </h3> + <p> + His translation of the Iliad, the first volume of which was issued in + 1775, the second in 1777 and the third in 1778. + </p> + <p> + During his stay at Abano in 1778, he wrote the Scrutinio del libro, + eulogies of M. de Voltaire “by various hands.” In the dedication of this + book, to the Doge Renier, he wrote, “This little book has recently come + from my inexperienced pen, in the hours of leisure which are frequent at + Abano for those who do not come only for the baths.” + </p> + <p> + From January until July 1780, he published, anonymously, a series of + miscellaneous small works, seven pamphlets of about one hundred pages + each, distributed at irregular intervals to subscribers. + </p> + <p> + From the 7th October to the end of December, 1780, on the occasions of the + representations given by a troupe of French comedians at the San Angelo + theater, Casanova wrote a little paper called The Messenger of Thalia. In + one of the numbers, he wrote: + </p> + <p> + “French is not my tongue; I make no pretentions and, wrong or astray, I + place on the paper what heaven sends from my pen. I give birth to phrases + turned to Italian, either to see what they look like or to produce a + style, and often, also, to draw, into a purist’s snare, some critical + doctor who does not know my humor or how my offense amuses me.” + </p> + <p> + The “little romance” referred to in the following letter to “Mlle. X—— + C—— V——,” appeared in 1782, with the title; ‘Di + anecdoti vinizani militari a amorosi del secolo decimo quarto sotto i + dogati di Giovanni Gradenigoe di Giovanni Dolfin’. Venezia, 1782. + </p> + <a name="linkmlle" id="linkmlle"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V — MLLE. X . . . C . . . V. . . + </h2> + <p> + In 1782, a letter written by this lady, Giustina de Wynne, referring to a + visit to Venice of Paul I, Grand Duke, afterward Emperor of Russia, and + his wife, was published under the title of Du sejour des Comptes du Nord a + Venise en janvier mdcclxxxii. If he had not previously done so, Casanova + took this occasion to recall himself to the memory of this lady to whom he + had once been of such great service. And two very polite letters were + exchanged: + </p> + <p> + “Madam, + </p> + <p> + “The fine epistle which V. E. has allowed to be printed upon the sojourn + of C. and of the C. du Nord in this city, exposes you, in the position of + an author, to endure the compliments of all those who trouble themselves + to write. But I flatter myself, Madam, that V. E. will not disdain mine. + </p> + <p> + “The little romance, Madam, a translation from my dull and rigid pen, is + not a gift but a very paltry offering which I dare make to the superiority + of your merit. + </p> + <p> + “I have found, Madam, in your letter, the simple, flowing style of + gentility, the one which alone a woman of condition who writes to her + friend may use with dignity. Your digressions and your thoughts are + flowers which . . . (forgive an author who pilfers from you the delicious + nonchalance of an amiable writer) or . . . a will-o’-the-wisp which, from + time to time, issues from the work, in spite of the author, and burns the + paper. + </p> + <p> + “I aspire, Madam, to render myself favorable to the deity to which reason + advises me to make homage. Accept then the offering and render happy he + who makes it with your indulgence. + </p> + <p> + “I have the honor to sign myself, if you will kindly permit me, with very + profound respect. + </p> + <p> + “Giacomo Casanova.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur + </p> + <p> + “I am very sensible, Monsieur, of the distinction which comes to me from + your approbation of my little pamphlet. The interest of the moment, its + references and the exaltation of spirits have gained for it the tolerance + and favorable welcome of the good Venetians. It is to your politeness in + particular, Monsieur, that I believe is due the marked success which my + work has had with you. I thank you for the book which you sent me and I + will risk thanking you in advance for the pleasure it will give me. Be + persuaded of my esteem for yourself and for your talents. And I have the + honor to be, Monsieur. + </p> + <p> + “Your very humble servant de Wynne de Rosemberg.” + </p> + <p> + Among Casanova’s papers at Dux was a page headed “Souvenir,” dated the 2nd + September 1791, and beginning: “While descending the staircase, the Prince + de Rosemberg told me that Madame de Rosemberg was dead . . . . This Prince + de Rosemberg was the nephew of Giustina.” + </p> + <p> + Giustina died, after a long illness, at Padua, the 21st August 1791, at + the age of fifty-four years and seven months. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0035" id="linkF2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI — LAST DAYS AT VENICE + </h2> + <p> + Toward the end of 1782, doubtless convinced that he could expect nothing + more from the Tribunal, Casanova entered the service of the Marquis + Spinola as a secretary. Some years before, a certain Carletti, an officer + in the service of the court of Turin, had won from the Marquis a wager of + two hundred and fifty sequins. The existence of this debt seemed to have + completely disappeared from the memory of the loser. By means of the firm + promise of a pecuniary recompense, Casanova intervened to obtain from his + patron a written acknowledgment of the debt owing to Carletti. His effort + was successful; but instead of clinking cash, Carletti contented himself + with remitting to the negotiator an assignment on the amount of the + credit. Casanova’s anger caused a violent dispute, in the course of which + Carlo Grimani, at whose house the scene took place, placed him in the + wrong and imposed silence. + </p> + <p> + The irascible Giacomo conceived a quick resentment. To discharge his bile, + he found nothing less than to publish in the course of the month of + August, under the title of: ‘Ne amori ne donne ovvero la Stalla d’Angia + repulita’, a libel in which Jean Carlo Grimani, Carletti, and other + notable persons were outraged under transparent mythological pseudonyms. + </p> + <p> + This writing embroiled the author with the entire body of the Venetian + nobility. + </p> + <p> + To allow the indignation against him to quiet down, Casanova went to pass + some days at Trieste, then returned to Venice to put his affairs in order. + The idea of recommencing his wandering life alarmed him. “I have lived + fifty-eight years,” he wrote, “I could not go on foot with winter at hand, + and when I think of starting on the road to resume my adventurous life, I + laugh at myself in the mirror.” + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_PART2" id="linkF2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART THE SECOND — VIENNA-PARIS + </h2> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0037" id="linkF2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I — 1783-1785 + </h2> + <h3> + TRAVELS IN 1783 + </h3> + <p> + Casanova left Venice in January 1783, and went to Vienna. + </p> + <p> + On the 16th April Elisabeth Catrolli wrote to him at Vienna: + </p> + <p> + “Dearest of friends, + </p> + <p> + “Your letter has given me great pleasure. Be assured, I infinitely regret + your departure. I have but two sincere friends, yourself and Camerani. I + do not hope for more. I could be happy if I could have at least one of you + near me to whom I could confide my cruel anxieties. + </p> + <p> + “To-day, I received from Camerani a letter informing me that, in a former + one, he had sent me a bill of exchange: I did not receive it, and I fear + it has been lost. + </p> + <p> + “Dear friend, when you reach Paris, clasp him to your heart for me . . . + In regard to Chechina [Francesca Buschini] I would say that I have not + seen her since the day I took her your letter. Her mother is the ruin of + that poor girl; let that suffice; I will say no more . . . . ” + </p> + <p> + After leaving Venice, Casanova apparently took an opportunity to pay his + last disrespects to the Tribunal. At least, in May 1783, M. Schlick, + French Secretary at Venice, wrote to Count Vergennes: “Last week there + reached the State Inquisitors an anonymous letter stating that, on the + 25th of this month, an earthquake, more terrible than that of Messina, + would raze Venice to the ground. This letter has caused a panic here. Many + patricians have left the capital and others will follow their example. The + author of the anonymous letter . . . is a certain Casanova, who wrote from + Vienna and found means to slip it into the Ambassador’s own mails.” + </p> + <p> + In about four months, Casanova was again on the way to Italy. He paused + for a week at Udine and arrived at Venice on the 16th June. Without + leaving his barge, he paused at his house just long enough to salute + Francesca. He left Mestre on Tuesday the 24th June and on the same day + dined at the house of F. Zanuzzi at Bassano. On the 25th he left Bassano + by post and arrived in the evening at Borgo di Valsugano. + </p> + <p> + On the 29th, he wrote to Francesca from the Augsbourg. He had stopped at + Innsbruck to attend the theater and was in perfect health. He had reached + Frankfort in forty-eight hours, traveling eighteen posts without stopping. + </p> + <p> + From Aix-la-Chapelle, on the 16th July, he wrote Francesca that he had + met, in that city, Cattina, the wife of Pocchini. Pocchini was sick and in + deep misery. Casanova, recalling all the abominable tricks this rogue had + played on him refused Cattina the assistance she begged for in tears, + laughed in her face, and said: “Farewell, I wish you a pleasant death.” + </p> + <p> + At Mayence, Casanova embarked on the Rhine in company with the Marquis + Durazzo, former Austrian Ambassador at Venice. The voyage was excellent + and in two days he arrived at Cologne, in rugged health, sleeping well and + eating like a wolf. + </p> + <p> + On the 30th July he wrote to Francesca from Spa and in this letter + enclosed a good coin. Everything was dear at Spa; his room cost eight + lires a day with everything else in proportion. + </p> + <p> + On the 6th September he wrote from Antwerp to one of his good friends, the + Abbe Eusebio della Lena, telling him that at Spa an English woman who had + a passion for speaking Latin wished to submit him to trials which he + judged it unnecessary to state precisely. He refused all her proposals, + saying, however, that he would not reveal them to anyone; but that he did + not feel he should refuse also “an order on her banker for twenty-five + guineas.” + </p> + <p> + On the 9th he wrote to Francesca from Brussels, and on the 12th he sent + her a bill of exchange on the banker Corrado for one hundred and fifty + lires. He said he had been intoxicated “because his reputation had + required it.” “This greatly astonishes me,” Francesca responded, “for I + have never seen you intoxicated nor even illuminated . . . . I am very + happy that the wine drove away the inflammation in your teeth.” + </p> + <p> + Practically all information of Casanova’s movements in 1783 and 1784 is + obtained from Francesca’s letters which were in the library at Dux. + </p> + <p> + In her letters of the 27th June and 11th July, Francesca wrote Casanova + that she had directed the Jew Abraham to sell Casanova’s satin habit and + velvet breeches, but could not hope for more than fifty lires because they + were patched. Abraham had observed that at one time the habit had been + placed in pledge with him by Casanova for three sequins. + </p> + <p> + On the 6th September, she wrote: + </p> + <p> + “With great pleasure, I reply to the three dear letters which you wrote me + from Spa: the first of the 6th August, from which I learned that your + departure had been delayed for some days to wait for someone who was to + arrive in that city. I was happy that your appetite had returned, because + good cheer is your greatest pleasure . . . . + </p> + <p> + “In your second letter which you wrote me from Spa on the 16th August, I + noted with sorrow that your affairs were not going as you wished. But + console yourself, dear friend, for happiness will come after trouble; at + least, I wish it so, also, for you yourself can imagine in what need I + find myself, I and all my family . . . . I have no work, because I have + not the courage to ask it of anyone. My mother has not earned even enough + to pay for the gold thread with the little cross which you know I love. + Necessity made me sell it. + </p> + <p> + “I received your last letter of the 20th August from Spa with another + letter for S. E. the Procurator Morosini. You directed me to take it to + him myself, and on Sunday the last day of August, I did not fail to go + there exactly at three o’clock. At once on my arrival, I spoke to a + servant who admitted me without delay; but, my dear friend, I regret + having to send you an unpleasant message. As soon as I handed him the + letter, and before he even opened it, he said to me, ‘I always know + Casanova’s affairs which trouble me.’ After having read hardly more than a + page, he said: ‘I know not what to do!’ I told him that, on the 6th of + this month, I was to write you at Paris and that, if he would do me the + honor of giving me his reply, I would put it in my letter. Imagine what + answer he gave me! I was much surprised! He told me that I should wish you + happiness but that he would not write to you again. He said no more. I + kissed his hands and left. He did not give me even a sou. That is all he + said to me . . . . + </p> + <p> + “S. E. Pietro Zaguri sent to me to ask if I knew where you were, because + he had written two letters to Spa and had received no reply . . . .” + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0038" id="linkF2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II — PARIS + </h2> + <p> + On the night of the 18th or 19th September 1783, Casanova arrived at + Paris. + </p> + <p> + On the 30th he wrote Francesca that he had been well received by his + sister-in-law and by his brother, Francesco Casanova, the painter. Nearly + all his friends had departed for the other world, and he would now have to + make new ones, which would be difficult as he was no longer pleasing to + the women. + </p> + <p> + On the 14th October he wrote again, saying that he was in good health and + that Paris was a paradise which made him feel twenty years old. Four + letters followed; in the first, dated from Paris on S. Martin’s Day, he + told Francesco not to reply for he did not know whether he would prolong + his visit nor where he might go. Finding no fortune in Paris, he said he + would go and search elsewhere. On the 23rd, he sent one hundred and fifty + lires; “a true blessing,” to the poor girl who was always short of money. + </p> + <p> + Between times, Casanova passed eight days at Fontainebleau, where he met + “a charming young man of twenty-five,” the son of “the young and lovely + O-Morphi” who indirectly owed to him her position, in 1752, as the + mistress of Louis XV. “I wrote my name on his tablets and begged him to + present my compliments to his mother.” + </p> + <p> + He also met, in the same place, his own son by Mme. Dubois, his former + housekeeper at Soleure who had married the good M. Lebel. “We shall hear + of the young gentleman in twenty-one years at Fontainebleau.” + </p> + <p> + “When I paid my third visit to Paris, with the intention of ending my days + in that capital, I reckoned on the friendship of M. d’Alembert, but he + died, like, Fontenelle, a fortnight after my arrival, toward the end of + 1783.” + </p> + <p> + It is interesting to know that, at this time, Casanova met his famous + contemporary, Benjamin Franklin. “A few days after the death of the + illustrious d’Alembert,” Casanova assisted, at the old Louvre, in a + session of the Academie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres. “Seated beside + the learned Franklin, I was a little surprised to hear Condorcet ask him + if he believed that one could give various directions to an air balloon. + This was the response: ‘The matter is still in its infancy, so we must + wait.’ I was surprised. It is not believable that the great philosopher + could ignore the fact that it would be impossible to give the machine any + other direction than that governed by the air which fills it, but these + people ‘nil tam verentur, quam ne dubitare aliqua de re videantur.” + </p> + <p> + On the 13th November, Casanova left Paris in company with his brother, + Francesco, whose wife did not accompany him. “His new wife drove him away + from Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “Now [1797 or 1798] I feel that I have seen Paris and France for the last + time. That popular effervescence [the French Revolution] has disgusted me + and I am too old to hope to see the end of it.” + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0039" id="linkF2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III — VIENNA + </h2> + <p> + On the 29th November, Casanova wrote from Frankfort that a drunken + postilion had upset him and in the fall he had dislocated his left + shoulder, but that a good bone-setter had restored it to place. On the 1st + December he wrote that he was healed, having taken medicine and having + been blooded. He promised to send Francesca eight sequins to pay her rent. + He reached Vienna about the 7th of December and on the 15th sent Francesco + a bill of exchange for eight sequins and two lires. + </p> + <p> + On the last day of 1783, Francesca wrote to him at Vienna: + </p> + <p> + “I see by your good letter that you will go to Dresden and then to Berlin + and that you will return to Vienna the 10th January . . . . I am + astonished, my dear friend, at the great journeys you make in this cold + weather, but, still, you are a great man, big-hearted, full of spirit and + courage; you travel in this terrible cold as though it were nothing . . . + . ” + </p> + <p> + On the 9th January, Casanova wrote from Dessau to his brother Giovanni, + proposing to make peace with him, but without results. On the 27th, he was + at Prague. By the 16th February, he was again in Vienna, after a trip + lasting sixty-two days. His health was perfect, and he had gained flesh + due, as he wrote Francesca, to his contented mind which was no longer + tormented. + </p> + <p> + In February, he entered the service of M. Foscarini, Venetian Ambassador, + “to write dispatches.” + </p> + <p> + On the 10th March, Francesca wrote: + </p> + <p> + “Dearest of Friends, I reply at once to your good letter of the 28th + February which I received Sunday . . . . I thank you for your kindness + which makes you say that you love me and that when you have money you will + send me some . . . but that at the moment you are dry as a salamander. I + do not know what sort of animal that is. But as for me I am certainly dry + of money and I am consumed with the hope of having some . . . . I see that + you were amused at the Carnival and that you were four times at the masked + ball, where there were two hundred women, and that you danced minuets and + quadrilles to the great astonishment of the ambassador Foscarini who told + everyone that you were sixty years old, although in reality you have not + yet reached your sixtieth year. You might well laugh at that and say that + he must be blind to have such an idea. + </p> + <p> + “I see that you assisted, with your brother, at a grand dinner at the + Ambassador’s . . . . + </p> + <p> + “You say that you have read my letters to your brother and that he salutes + me. Make him my best compliments and thank him. You ask me to advise you + whether, if he should happen to return to Venice with you, he could lodge + with you in your house. Tell him yes, because the chickens are always in + the loft and make no dirt; and, as for the dogs, one watches to see that + they do not make dirt. The furniture of the apartment is already in place; + it lacks only a wardrobe and the little bed which you bought for your + nephew and the mirror; as for the rest, everything is as you left it. . . + .” + </p> + <p> + It is possible that, at the “grand dinner,” Casanova was presented to + Count Waldstein, without whose kindness to Casanova the Memoirs probably + would never have been written. The Lord of Dux, Joseph Charles Emmanuel + Waldstein-Wartenberg, Chamberlain to Her Imperial Majesty, descendant of + the great Wallenstein, was the elder of the eleven children of Emmanuel + Philibert, Count Waldstein, and Maria Theresa, Princess Liechtenstein. + Very egotistic and willful in his youth, careless of his affairs, and an + imprudent gambler, at thirty years of age he had not yet settled down. His + mother was disconsolated that her son could not separate himself from + occupations “so little suited to his spirit and his birth.” + </p> + <p> + On the 13th March 1784, Count Lamberg wrote Casanova: “I know M. le C. de + Waldstein through having heard him praised by judges worthy of + appreciating the transcendent qualities of more than one kind peculiar to + the Count. I congratulate you on having such a Maecenas, and I + congratulate him in his turn on having chosen such a man as yourself.” + Which last remark certainly foreshadows the library at Dux. + </p> + <p> + Later, on the lath March, 1785, Zaguri wrote: “In two months at the + latest, all will be settled. I am very happy.” Referring further, it is + conjectured, to Casanova’s hopes of placing himself with the Count. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0040" id="linkF2H_4_0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV — LETTERS FROM FRANCESCA + </h2> + <p> + 20th March 1784. “I see that you will print one of your books; you say + that you will send me two hundred copies which I can sell at thirty sous + each; that you will tell Zaguri and that he will advise those who wish + copies to apply to me . . .” + </p> + <p> + This book was the Lettre historico-critique sur un fait connu dependant + d’une cause peu connue, adressee au duc de * * *, 1784. + </p> + <p> + 3rd April 1784. “I see with pleasure that you have gone to amuse yourself + in company with two ladies and that you have traveled five posts to see + the Emperor [Joseph II] . . . . You say that your fortune consists of one + sequin . . . . I hope that you obtained permission to print your book, + that you will send me the two hundred copies, and that I may be able to + sell them. . . .” + </p> + <p> + 14th April 1784. “You say that a man without money is the image of death, + that he is a very wretched animal. I learn with regret that I am unlikely + to see you at the approaching Festival of the Ascension . . . that you + hope to see me once more before dying . . . . You make me laugh, telling + me that at Vienna a balloon was made which arose in the air with six + persons and that it might be that you would go up also.” + </p> + <p> + 28th April 1784. “I see, to my lively regret, that you have been in bed + with your usual ailment [hemorrhoids]. But I am pleased to know that you + are better. You certainly should go to the baths . . . . I have been + discouraged in seeing that you have not come to Venice because you have no + money .... P. S. Just at this moment I have received a good letter, + enclosing a bill of exchange, which I will go and have paid . . . .” + </p> + <p> + 5th May 1784. “I went to the house of M. Francesco Manenti, at S. Polo di + Campo, with my bill of exchange, and he gave me at once eighteen pieces of + ten lires each . . . . I figure that you made fun of me saying seriously + that you will go up in a balloon and that, if the wind is favorable, you + will go in the air to Trieste and then from Trieste to Venice.” + </p> + <p> + 19th May 1784. “I see, to my great regret, that you are in poor health and + still short of money .... You say that you need twenty sequins and that + you have only twenty trari . . . . I hope that your book is printed. . . + .” + </p> + <p> + 29th May 1784. “I note with pleasure that you are going to take the baths; + but I regret that this treatment enfeebles and depresses you. It reassures + me that you do not fail in your appetite nor your sleep.... I hope I will + not hear you say again that you are disgusted with everything, and no + longer in love with life . . . . I see that for you, at this moment, + fortune sleeps . . . . I am not surprised that everything is so dear in + the city where you are, for at Venice also one pays dearly and everything + is priced beyond reach.” + </p> + <p> + Zaguri wrote Casanova the 12th May, that he had met Francesca in the + Mongolfieri casino. And on the 2nd June Casanova, doubtless feeling his + helplessness in the matter of money, and the insufficiency of his + occasional remittances, and suspicious of Francesca’s loyalty, wrote her a + letter of renunciation. Then came her news of the sale of his books; and + eighteen months passed before he wrote to her again. + </p> + <p> + On the 12th June 1784, Francesca replied: “I could not expect to convey to + you, nor could you figure, the sorrow that tries me in seeing that you + will not occupy yourself any more with me . . . . I hid from you that I + had been with that woman who lived with us, with her companion, the + cashier of the Academie des Mongolfceristes. Although I went to this + Academy with prudence and dignity, I did not want to write you for fear + you would scold me. That is the only reason, and hereafter you may be + certain of my sincerity and frankness. . . . I beg you to forgive me this + time, if I write you something I have never written for fear that you + would be angry with me because I had not told you. Know then that four + months ago, your books which were on the mezzanine were sold to a library + for the sum of fifty lires, when we were in urgent need. It was my mother + who did it. . . .” + </p> + <p> + 26th June 1784. “. . . Mme. Zenobia [de Monti] has asked me if I would + enjoy her company. Certain that you would consent I have allowed her to + come and live with me. She has sympathy for me and has always loved me.” + </p> + <p> + 7th July 1784. “Your silence greatly disturbs me! To receive no more of + your letters! By good post I have sent you three letters, with this one, + and you have not replied to any of them. Certainly, you have reason for + being offended at me, because I hid from you something which you learned + from another . . . . But you might have seen, from my last letter, that I + have written you all the truth about my fault and that I have asked your + pardon for not writing it before.... Without you and your help, God knows + what will become of us.... For the rent of your chamber Mme. Zenobia will + give us eight lires a month and five lires for preparing her meals. But + what can one do with thirteen lires! . . . I am afflicted and mortified. . + . . Do not abandon me.” + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0041" id="linkF2H_4_0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V — LAST DAYS AT VIENNA + </h2> + <p> + In 1785, at Vienna, Casanova ran across Costa, his former secretary who, + in 1761, had fled from him taking “diamonds, watches, snuffbox, linen, + rich suits and a hundred louis.” “In 1785, I found this runagate at + Vienna. He was then Count Erdich’s man, and when we come to that period, + the reader shall hear what I did.” + </p> + <p> + Casanova did not reach this period, in writing his Memoirs, but an account + of this meeting is given by Da Ponte, who was present at it, in his + Memoirs. Costa had met with many misfortunes, as he told Casanova, and had + himself been defrauded. Casanova threatened to have him hanged, but + according to Da Ponte, was dissuaded from this by counter accusations made + by Costa. + </p> + <p> + Da Ponte’s narration of the incident is brilliant and amusing, in spite of + our feeling that it is maliciously exaggerated: “Strolling one morning in + the Graben with Casanova, I suddenly saw him knit his brows, squawk, grind + his teeth, twist himself, raise his hands skyward, and, snatching himself + away from me, throw himself on a man whom I seemed to know, shouting with + a very loud voice: ‘Murderer, I have caught thee.’ A crowd having gathered + as a result of this strange act and yell, I approached them with some + disgust; nevertheless, I caught Casanova’s hand and almost by force I + separated him from the fray. He then told me the story, with desperate + motions and gestures, and said that his antagonist was Gioachino Costa, by + whom he had been betrayed. This Gioachino Costa, although he had been + forced to become a servant by his vices and bad practices, and was at that + very time servant to a Viennese gentleman, was more or less of a poet. He + was, in fact, one of those who had honored me with their satire, when the + Emperor Joseph selected me as poet of his theater. Costa entered a cafe, + and while I continued to walk with Casanova, wrote and send him by a + messenger, the following verses: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Casanova, make no outcry; + You stole, indeed, as well as I; + You were the one who first taught me; + Your art I mastered thoroughly. + Silence your wisest course will be.’ +</pre> + <p> + “These verses had the desired effect. After a brief silence, Casanova + laughed and then said softly in my ear: ‘The rogue is right.’ He went into + the cafe and motioned to Costa to come out; they began to walk together + calmly, as if nothing had happened, and they parted shaking hands + repeatedly and seemingly calm and friendly. Casanova returned to me with a + cameo on his little finger, which by a strange coincidence, represented + Mercury, the god-protector of thieves. This was his greatest valuable, and + it was all that was left of the immense booty, but represented the + character of the two restored friends, perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + Da Ponte precedes this account with a libellous narrative of Casanova’s + relations with the Marquise d’Urfe, even stating that Casanova stole from + her the jewels stolen in turn by Costa, but, as M. Maynial remarks, we may + attribute this perverted account “solely to the rancour and antipathy of + the narrator.” It is more likely that Casanova frightened Costa almost out + of his wits, was grimly amused at his misfortunes, and let him go, since + there was no remedy to Casanova’s benefit, for his former rascality. + Casanova’s own brief, anticipatory account is given in his Memoirs. + </p> + <p> + In 1797, correcting and revising his Memoirs, Casanova wrote: “Twelve + years ago, if it had not been for my guardian angel, I would have + foolishly married, at Vienna, a young, thoughtless girl, with whom I had + fallen in love.” In which connection, his remark is interesting: “I have + loved women even to madness, but I have always loved liberty better; and + whenever I have been in danger of losing it, fate has come to my rescue.” + </p> + <p> + While an identification of the “young, thoughtless girl” has been + impossible, M. Rava believes her to be “C. M.,” the subject of a poem + found at Dux, written in duplicate, in Italian and French, and headed + “Giacomo Casanova, in love, to C. M.” + </p> + <p> + “When, Catton, to your sight is shown the love Which all my tenderest + caresses prove, Feeling all pleasure’s sharpest joys and fears, Burning + one moment, shivering the next, Caressing you while showering you with + tears, Giving each charm a thousand eager kisses, Wishing to touch at once + a thousand blisses And, at the ones beyond my power, vexed, Abandoned in a + furious desire, Leaving these charms for other charms that fire, + Possessing all and yet desiring Until, destroyed by excesses of pleasure, + Finding no words of love nor anything To express my fires overflowing + measure Than deepening sighs and obscure murmuring: Ah! Then you think to + read my inmost heart To find the love that can these signs impart ....Be + not deceived. These transports, amorous cries, These kisses, tears, + desires and heavy sighs, Of all the fire which devours me Could less than + even the lightest tokens be.” + </p> + <p> + Evidently this same girl is the authoress of the two following letters + written by “Caton M . . . .” to Casanova in 1786. + </p> + <p> + 12th April 1786. “You will infinitely oblige me if you will tell me to + whom you wrote such pretty things about me; apparently it is the Abbe Da + Ponte; but I would go to his house and, either he would prove that you had + written it or I would have the honor of telling him that he is the most + infamous traducer in the world. I think that the lovely picture which you + make of my future has not as much excuse as you may think, and, in spite + of your science, you deceive yourself.... But just now I will inform you + of all my wooers and you can judge for yourself by this whether I deserve + all the reproaches you made me in your last letter. It is two years since + I came to know the Count de K . . . ; I could have loved him but I was too + honest to be willing to satisfy his desires . . . . Some months afterward, + I came to know the Count de M . . . ; he was not so handsome as K . . . , + but he possessed every possible art for seducing a girl; I did everything + for him, but I never loved him as much as his friend. In fine, to tell you + all my giddinesses in a few words, I set everything right again with K . . + . . and got myself into a quarrel with M . . . ., then I left K. . . . and + returned to M . . . ., but at the house of the latter there was always an + officer who pleased me more than both the two others and who sometimes + conducted me to the house; then we found ourselves at the house of a + friend, and it is of this same officer that I am ill. So, my dear friend, + that is all. I do not seek to justify my past conduct; on the contrary, I + know well that I have acted badly.... I am much afflicted at being the + cause of your remaining away from Venice during the Carnival . . . . I + hope to see you soon again and am, with much love, + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, your sincere + </p> + <p> + “Caton M. . . .” + </p> + <p> + 16th July 1786. “I have spoken with the Abbe Da Ponte. He invited me to + come to his house because, he said, he had something to tell me for you. I + went there, but was received so coldly that I am resolved not to go there + again. Also, Mlle. Nanette affected an air of reserve and took at on + herself to read me lessons on what she was pleased to call my libertinism + . . . . I beg that you will write nothing more about me to these two very + dangerous personages.... Just now I will tell you of a little trick which + I played on you, which without doubt deserves some punishment. The young, + little Kasper, whom you formerly loved, came to ask me for the address of + her dear Monsieur de Casanova, so that she could write a very tender + letter full of recollections. I had too much politeness to wish to refuse + a pretty girl, who was once the favorite of my lover, so just a request, + so I gave her the address she wished; but I addressed the letter to a city + far from you. Is it not, my dear friend, that you would like well to know + the name of the city, so that you could secure the letter by posts. But + you can depend on my word that you will not know it until you have written + me a very long letter begging me very humbly to indicate the place where + the divine letter of the adorable object of your vows has gone. You might + well make this sacrifice for a girl in whom the Emperor [Joseph II] + interests himself, for it is known that, since your departure from Vienna, + it is he who is teaching her French and music; and apparently he takes the + trouble of instructing her himself, for she often goes to his house to + thank him for his kindnesses to her, but I know not in what way she + expresses herself. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, my dear friend. Think sometimes of me and believe that I am + your sincere friend.” + </p> + <p> + On the 23rd April 1785, the ambassador Foscarini died, depriving Casanova + of a protector, probably leaving him without much money, and not in the + best of health. He applied for the position of secretary to Count Fabris, + his former friend, whose name had been changed from Tognolo, but without + success. Casanova then determined to go to Berlin in the hope of a place + in the Academy. On the 30th July he arrived at Bruen in Moravia, where his + friend Maximilian-Joseph, Count Lamberg gave him, among other letters of + recommendation, a letter addressed to Jean-Ferdinand Opiz, Inspector of + Finances and Banks at Czaslau, in which he wrote: + </p> + <p> + “A celebrated man, M. Casanova, will deliver to you, my dear friend, the + visiting card with which he is charged for Mme. Opiz and yourself. Knowing + this amiable and remarkable man, will mark an epoch in your life, be + polite and friendly to him, ‘quod ipsi facies in mei memoriam faciatis’. + Keep yourself well, write to me, and if you can direct him to some honest + man at Carlsbad, fail not to do so. . . .” + </p> + <p> + On the 15th August 1785, M. Opiz wrote Count Lamberg about Casanova’s + visit: + </p> + <p> + “Your letter of the 30th, including your cards for my wife and myself, was + delivered the first of this month by M. Casanova. He was very anxious to + meet the Princess Lubomirski again at Carlsbad. But as something about his + carriage was broken, he was obliged to stop in Czaslau for two hours which + he passed in my company. He has left Czaslau with the promise of giving me + a day on his return. I am already delighted. Even in the short space of + time in which I enjoyed his company, I found in him a man worthy of our + highest consideration and of our love, a benevolent philosopher whose + homeland is the great expanse of our planet (and not Venice alone) and who + values only the men in the kings . . . . I know absolutely no one at + Carlsbad, so I sincerely regret being unable to recommend him to anyone + there, according to your desire. He did not wish, on account of his haste, + to pause even at Prague and, consequently, to deliver, at this time, your + letter to Prince Furstemberg.” + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_PART3" id="linkF2H_PART3"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART THE THIRD — DUX — 1786-1798 + </h2> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0043" id="linkF2H_4_0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I — THE CASTLE AT DUX + </h2> + <p> + It is uncertain how long Casanova remained at Carlsbad. While there, + however, he met again the Polish nobleman Zawoiski, with whom he had + gambled in Venice in 1746. “As to Zawoiski, I did not tell him the story + until I met him in Carlsbad old and deaf, forty years later.” He did not + return to Czaslau, but in September 1785 he was at Teplitz where he found + Count Waldstein whom he accompanied to his castle at Dux. + </p> + <p> + From this time onward he remained almost constantly at the castle where he + was placed in charge of the Count’s library and given a pension of one + thousand florins annually. + </p> + <p> + Describing his visit to the castle in 1899, Arthur Symons writes: “I had + the sensation of an enormous building: all Bohemian castles are big, but + this one was like a royal palace. Set there in the midst of the town, + after the Bohemian fashion, it opens at the back upon great gardens, as if + it were in the midst of the country. I walked through room after room, + corridor after corridor; everywhere there were pictures, everywhere + portraits of Wallenstein, and battle scenes in which he led on his troops. + The library, which was formed, or at least arranged, by Casanova, and + which remains as he left it, contains some twenty-five thousand volumes, + some of them of considerable value . . . . The library forms part of the + Museum, which occupies a ground-floor wing of the castle. The first room + is an armoury, in which all kinds of arms are arranged, in a decorative + way, covering the ceiling and the walls with strange patterns. The second + room contains pottery, collected by Casanova’s Waldstein on his Eastern + travels. The third room is full of curious mechanical toys, and cabinets, + and carvings in ivory. Finally, we come to the library, contained in the + two innermost rooms. The book shelves are painted white and reach to the + low vaulted ceilings, which are whitewashed. At the end of a bookcase, in + the corner of one of the windows, hangs a fine engraved portrait of + Casanova.” + </p> + <p> + In this elaborate setting, Casanova found the refuge he so sadly needed + for his last years. The evil days of Venice and Vienna, and the problems + and makeshifts of mere existence, were left behind. And for this refuge he + paid the world with his Memoirs. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0044" id="linkF2H_4_0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II — LETTERS FROM FRANCESCA + </h2> + <h3> + In 1786, Casanova renewed his correspondence with Francesca, who wrote: + </h3> + <p> + 1st July 1786. “After a silence of a year and a half, I received from you + yesterday a good letter which has consoled me in informing me that you are + in perfect health. But, on the other hand, I was much pained to see that + in your letter you did not call me Friend, but Madame . . . . You have + reason to chide me and to reproach me for having rented a house without + surety or means of paying the rent. As to the advice you give me that if + some honest person would pay me my rent, or at least a part of it, I + should have no scruples about taking it because a little more, or a little + less, would be of little importance . . . . I declare to you that I have + been disconsolated at receiving from you such a reproach which is + absolutely unjustified . . . . You tell me that you have near you a young + girl who merits all your solicitations and your love, she and her family + of six persons who adore you and give you every attention; that she costs + you all you have, so that you cannot send me even a sou . . . . I am + pained to hear you say that you will never return to Venice, and yet I + hope to see you again. . . .” + </p> + <p> + The “young girl” referred to in Francesca’s letter was Anna-Dorothea + Kleer, daughter of the porter of the castle. This young girl became + pregnant in 1786 and Casanova was accused of seducing her. The guilty one, + however, was a painter named Schottner who married the unfortunate girl in + January 1787. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 9th August 1786. +</pre> + <p> + “My only true friend, + </p> + <p> + “It is two days since I received your dear letter; I was very happy to see + your writing .... You have reason to mortify me and reproach me in + recalling all the troubles I caused you, and especially that which you + call treachery, the sale of your books, of which in part I was not guilty + . . . . Forgive me, my dear friend, me and my foolish mother who, despite + all my objections, absolutely insisted on selling them. Regarding that + which you write me that you know that my mother, last year, told about + that you had been my ruin, this may unhappily be true, since you already + know the evil thoughts of my mother, who even says that you are still at + Venice . . . . When have I not been always sincere with you, and when have + I not at least listened to your good advices and offers? I am in a + desperate situation, abandoned by all, almost in the streets, almost about + to be homeless . . . . Where are all the pleasures which formerly you + procured me? Where are the theatres, the comedies which we once saw + together? . . .” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5th January 1787. +</pre> + <p> + “The first of the year I received your dear letter with the bill of + exchange for one hundred and twenty-five lires which you sent me so + generously . . . . You say you have forgiven me for all the troubles I + have caused you. Forget all, then, and do not accuse me any more of things + which are but too true and of which the remembrance alone cuts me to the + heart . . . . You write me that you have been forgotten by a person of + whom you were very fond, that she is married and that you have not seen + her for more than a month.” + </p> + <p> + The “person” referred to was Anna Kleer. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5th October 1787. +</pre> + <p> + . . . . “Until the other day, I had been waiting for your arrival, hoping + that you would come to assist at the entry of the Procurator Memmo . . . . + I see by your good letter that you were not able to get away, since your + presence is nearly always necessary in the great castle . . . . I learn of + the visit you have received from the Emperor who wished to see your + library of forty-thousand volumes! . . . You say that you detest the chase + and that you are unhappy when politeness obliges you to go . . . . I am + pleased to know that you are in good health, that you are stout and that + you have a good appetite and sleep well . . . . I hope that the printing + of your book [Histoire de ma fuite] is going according to your wishes. If + you go to Dresden for the marriage of your niece, enjoy yourself for me . + . . . Forget not to write to me; this gives me such pleasure! Remember me. + Full of confidence in your friendship, I am, and always will be, your true + and sincere friend, + </p> + <p> + “Francesca Buschina.” + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0045" id="linkF2H_4_0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III — CORRESPONDENCE AND ACTIVITIES + </h2> + <p> + In 1787, a book was published under the title of ‘Dreissig Brief uber + Galizien by Traunpaur’, which included this passage: “The most famous + adventurers of two sorts (there are two, in fact: honest adventurers and + adventurers of doubtful reputation) have appeared on the scene of the + kingdom of Poland. The best known on the shores of the Vistula are: the + miraculous Cagliostro: Boisson de Quency, grand charlatan, soldier of + fortune, decorated with many orders, member of numerous Academies: the + Venetian Casanova of Saint-Gall, a true savant, who fought a duel with + Count Branicki: the Baron de Poellnitz . . . the lucky Count Tomatis, who + knew so well how to correct fortune, and many others.” + </p> + <p> + In June 1789, Casanova received a letter from Teresa Boisson de Quency, + the wife of the adventurer above referred to: + </p> + <p> + “Much honored Monsieur Giacomo: + </p> + <p> + “For a long time I have felt a very particular desire to evidence to you + the estimation due your spirit and your eminent qualities: the superb + sonnet augmented my wish. But the inconveniences of childbirth and the + cares required by a little girl whom I adore, made me defer this pleasure. + During my husband’s absence, your last and much honored letter came to my + hands. Your amiable compliments to me, engage me to take the pen to give + you renewed assurance that you have in me a sincere admirer of your great + talent . . . . When I wish to point out a person who writes and thinks + with excellence, I name Monsieur Casanova . . . .” + </p> + <p> + In 1793, Teresa de Quency wished to return to Venice at which time Zaguri + wrote Casanova: “The Bassani has received letters from her husband which + tell her nothing more than that he is alive.” + </p> + <p> + Casanova passed the months of May, June and July 1788 at Prague, + supervising the printing of the Histoire de ma fuite. + </p> + <p> + “I remember laughing very heartily at Prague, six years ago, on learning + that some thin-skinned ladies, on reading my flight from The Leads, which + was published at that date, took great offense at the above account, which + they thought I should have done well to leave out.” + </p> + <p> + In May he was troubled with an attack of the grippe. In October, he was in + Dresden, apparently with his brother. Around this time “The Magdalene,” a + painting by Correggio, was stolen from the Museum of the Elector. + </p> + <p> + On the 30th October 1788, Casanova wrote to the Prince Belozelski, Russian + Minister to the Court of Dresden: “Tuesday morning, after having embraced + my dear brother, I got into a carriage to return here. At the barrier on + the outskirts of Dresden, I was obliged to descend, and six men carried + the two chests of my carriage, my two night-bags and my capelire into a + little chamber on the ground level, demanded my keys, and examined + everything . . . . The youngest of these infamous executors of such an + order told me they were searching for ‘The Magdalene! . . . The oldest had + the impudence to put his hands on my waistcoat . . . . At last they let me + go. + </p> + <p> + “This, my prince, delayed me so that I could not reach Petervalden by + daylight. I stopped at an evil tavern where, dying of famine and rage, I + ate everything I saw; and, wishing to drink and not liking beer, I gulped + down some beverage which my host told me was good and which did not seem + unpleasant. He told me that it was Pilnitz Moste. This beverage aroused a + rebellion in my guts. I passed the night tormented by a continual + diarrhoea. I arrived here the day before yesterday (the 28th), where I + found an unpleasant duty awaiting me. Two months ago, I brought a woman + here to cook, needing her while the Count is away; as soon as she arrived, + I gave her a room and I went to Leipzig. On returning here, I found three + servants in the hands of surgeons and all three blame my cook for putting + them in such a state. The Count’s courier had already told me, at Leipzig, + that she had crippled him. Yesterday the Count arrived and would do + nothing but laugh, but I have sent her back and exhorted her to imitate + the Magdalene. The amusing part is that she is old, ugly and + ill-smelling.” + </p> + <p> + In 1789, 1791 and 1792, Casanova received three letters from Maddalena + Allegranti, the niece of J. B. Allegranti the innkeeper with whom Casanova + lodged at Florence in 1771. “This young person, still a child, was so + pretty, so gracious, with such spirit and such charms, that she + incessantly distracted me. Sometimes she would come into my chamber to + wish me good-morning . . . . Her appearance, her grace, the sound of her + voice . . . were more than I could resist; and, fearing the seduction + would excuse mine, I could find no other expedient than to take flight. . + . . Some years later, Maddalena became a celebrated musician.” + </p> + <p> + At this period of Casanova’s life, we hear again of the hussy who so upset + Casanova during his visit to London that he was actually on the point of + committing suicide through sheer desperation. On the 20th September 1789, + he wrote to the Princess Clari, sister of the Prince de Ligne: “I am + struck by a woman at first sight, she completely ravishes me, and I am + perhaps lost, for she may be a Charpillon.” + </p> + <p> + There were, among the papers at Dux, two letters from Marianne Charpillon, + and a manuscript outlining the story of Casanova’s relations with her and + her family, as detailed in the Memoirs: With the story in mind, the + letters from this girl, “the mistress, now of one, now of another,” are of + interest: + </p> + <p> + “I know not, Monsieur, whether you forgot the engagement Saturday last; as + for me, I remember that you consented to give us the pleasure of having + you at dinner to-day, Monday, the 12th of the month. I would greatly like + to know whether your ill-humor has left you; this would please me. + Farewell, in awaiting the honor of seeing you. + </p> + <p> + “Marianne de Charpillon.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, + </p> + <p> + “As I have a part in all which concerns you, I am greatly put out to know + of the new illness which incommodes you; I hope that this will be so + trifling that we will have the pleasure of seeing you well and at our + house, to-day or to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + “And, in truth, the gift which you sent me is so pretty that I know not + how to express to you the pleasure it has given me and how much I value + it; and I cannot see why you must always provoke me by telling me that it + is my fault that you are filled with bile, while I am as innocent as a + new-born babe and would wish you so gentle and patient that your blood + would become a true clarified syrup; this will come to you if you follow + my advice. I am, Monsieur, + </p> + <p> + “Your very humble servant, + </p> + <p> + “[Marianne Charpillon] + </p> + <p> + “Wednesday at six o’clock” + </p> + <p> + On the 8th April, 1790, Zaguri wrote in reference to vertigo of which + Casanova complained: “Have you tried riding horseback? Do you not think + that is an excellent preservative? I tried it this last summer and I find + myself very well.” + </p> + <p> + In 1790, Casanova had a conversation with the Emperor Joseph II at + Luxemburg, on the subject of purchased nobility, which he reports in the + Memoirs. + </p> + <p> + This same year, attending the coronation of Leopold at Prague, Casanova + met his grandson (and, probably, as he himself believed, his own son), the + son of Leonilda, who was the daughter of Casanova and Donna Lucrezia, and + who was married to the Marquis C . . . . In 1792, Leonilda wrote, inviting + Casanova to “spend the remainder of my days with her.” + </p> + <p> + In February 1791, Casanova wrote to Countess Lamberg: “I have in my + capitularies more than four hundred sentences which pass for aphorisms and + which include all the tricks which place one word for another. One can + read in Livy that Hannibal overcame the Alps by means of vinegar. No + elephant ever uttered such a stupidity. Livy? Not at all. Livy was not a + beast; it is you who are, foolish instructor of credulous youth! Livy did + not say aceto which means vinegar, but aceta which means axe.” + </p> + <p> + In April 1791, Casanova wrote to Carlo Grimani at Venice, stating that he + felt he had committed a great fault in publishing his libel, ‘Ne amori ne + donne’, and very humbly begging his pardon. Also that his Memoirs would be + composed of six volumes in octavo with a seventh supplementary volume + containing codicils. + </p> + <p> + In June, Casanova composed for the theater of Princess Clari, at Teplitz, + a piece entitled: ‘Le Polemoscope ou la Calomnie demasquee par la presence + d’esprit, tragicomedie en trois actes’. The manuscript was preserved at + Dux, together with another form of the same, having the sub-title of ‘La + Lorgnette Menteuse ou la Calomnie demasquee’. It may be assumed that the + staging of this piece was an occasion of pleasant activity for Casanova. + </p> + <p> + In January 1792, during Count Waldstein’s absence in London or Paris, + Casanova was embroiled with M. Faulkircher, maitre d’hotel, over the + unpleasant matter indicated in two of Casanova’s letters to this + functionary: + </p> + <p> + “Your rascally Vidierol . . . tore my portrait out of one of my books, + scrawled my name on it, with the epithet which you taught him and then + stuck it on the door of the privy .... + </p> + <p> + “Determined to make sure of the punishment of your infamous valet, and + wishing at the same time to give proof of my respect for Count Waldstein, + not forgetting that, as a last resort, I have the right to invade his + jurisdiction, I took an advocate, wrote my complaint and had it translated + into German . . . . Having heard of this at Teplitz, and having known that + I would not save your name, you came to my chamber to beg me to write + whatever I wished but not to name you because it would place you wrong + before the War Council and expose you to the loss of your pension . . . . + I have torn up my first complaint and have written a second in Latin, + which an advocate of Bilin has translated for me and which I have + deposited at the office of the judiciary at Dux....” + </p> + <p> + Following this matter, Casanova attended the Carnival at Oberleutensdorf, + and left at Dux a manuscript headed ‘Passe temps de Jacques Casanova de + Seingalt pour le carnaval de l’an 1792 dans le bourg d’Oberleutensdorf’. + While in that city, meditating on the Faulkircher incident, he wrote also + ‘Les quinze pardons, monologue nocturne du bibliothecaire’, also preserved + in manuscript at Dux, in which we read: + </p> + <p> + “Gerron, having served twenty years as a simple soldier, acquired a great + knowledge of military discipline. This man was not yet seventy years old. + He had come to believe, partly from practice, partly from theory, that + twenty blows with a baton on the rump are not dishonoring. When the honest + soldier was unfortunate enough to deserve them, he accepted them with + resignation. The pain was sharp, but not lasting; it did not deprive him + of either appetite nor honor . . . . Gerron, becoming a corporal, had + obtained no idea of any kind of sorrow other than that coming from the + blows of a baton on the rump . . . . On this idea, he thought that the + soul of an honest man was no different than a soldier’s breech. If Gerron + caused trouble to the spirit of a man of honor, he thought that this + spirit, like his own, had only a rump, and that any trouble he caused + would pass likewise. He deceived himself. The breech of the spirit of an + honest man is different than the breech of the spirit of a Gerron who + rendered compatible the rank of a military officer with the vile + employments of a domestic and the stable-master of some particular lord. + Since Gerron deceived himself, we must pardon him all his faults . . .” + etc. + </p> + <p> + Casanova complained of the Faulkircher incident to the mother of Count + Waldstein, who wrote: “I pity you, Monsieur, for being obliged to live + among such people and in such evil company, but my son will not forget + that which he owes to himself and I am sure he will give you all the + satisfaction you wish.” Also to his friend Zaguri, who wrote, the 16th + March: “I hope that the gout in your hand will not torment you any more. . + . . You have told me the story I asked about and which begins: ‘Two months + have passed since an officer, who is at Vienna, insulted me!’ I cannot + understand whether he who wrote you an insulting letter is at Vienna or + whether he is at Dux. When will the Count return? . . . You should await + his return because you would have, among other reasons to present to him, + that of not wishing to have recourse to other jurisdiction than his. . . + You say your letters have been intercepted? Someone has put your portrait + in the privy? The devil! It is a miracle that you have not killed someone. + Positively, I am curious to know the results and I hope that you make no + mistakes in this affair which appears to me very delicate.” + </p> + <p> + In August 1792, or thereabouts, Da Ponte on his way to Dresden, visited + Casanova at Dux, in the hope of collecting an old debt, but gave up this + hope on realizing Casanova’s limited resources. In the winter of 1792-3 Da + Ponte found himself in great distress in Holland. “Casanova was the only + man to whom I could apply,” he writes in his Memoirs. “To better dispose + him, I thought to write him in verse, depicting my troubles and begging + him to send me some money on account of that which he still owed me. Far + from considering my request, he contented himself with replying, in vulgar + prose, by a laconic billet which I transcribe: ‘When Cicero wrote to his + friends, he avoided telling them of his affairs.’” + </p> + <p> + In May 1793, Da Ponte wrote from London: “Count Waldstein has lived a very + obscure life in London, badly lodged, badly dressed, badly served, always + in cabarets, cafes, with porters, with rascals, with . . . we will leave + out the rest. He has the heart of an angel and an excellent character, but + not so good a head as ours.” + </p> + <p> + Toward the end of 1792, Cssanova wrote a letter to Robespierre, which, as + he advises M. Opiz, the 13th January 1793, occupied one hundred and twenty + folio pages. This letter was not to be found at Dux and it may possibly + have been sent, or may have been destroyed by Casanova on the advice of + Abbe O’Kelly. Casanova’s feelings were very bitter over the trial of Louis + XVI., and in his letters to M. Opiz he complained bitterly of the Jacobins + and predicted the ruin of France. Certainly, to Casanova, the French + Revolution represented the complete overthrow of many of his cherished + illusions. + </p> + <p> + On the 1st August 1793, Wilhelmina Rietz, Countess Lichtenau (called the + Pompadour of Frederic-William II., King of Prussia) wrote to the librarian + at Dux: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur + </p> + <p> + “It seems impossible to know where Count Valstaine [Waldstein] is staying, + whether he is in Europe, Africa, America, or possibly the Megamiques. If + he is there, you are the only one who could insure his receiving the + enclosed letter. + </p> + <p> + “For my part, I have not yet had time to read their history, but the first + reading I do will assuredly be that. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Chappuis has the honor of recalling herself to your memory, + and I have that of being your very humble servant, + </p> + <p> + “Wilhelmina Rietz.” + </p> + <p> + The allusions to a “history” and to the ‘Megamiques’ in this letter refer + to Casanova’s romance, ‘Icosameron’. + </p> + <p> + About this time, Count Waldstein returned to Dux after having been, at + Paris, according to Da Ponte, concerned in planning the flight of Louis + XVI., and in attempting to save the Princess Lamballe. On the 17th August, + Casanova replied to the above letter: + </p> + <p> + “Madame, + </p> + <p> + “I handed the Count your letter two minutes after having received it, + finding him easily. I told him that he should respond at once, for the + post was ready to go; but, as he begged to wait for the following + ordinary, I did not insist. The day before yesterday, he begged me to wait + again, but he did not find me so complaisant. I respond to you, Madame, + for his carelessness in replying to letters is extreme; he is so shameful + that he is in despair when he is obliged to it. Although he may not + respond, be sure of seeing him at your house at Berlin after the Leipzig + Fair, with a hundred bad excuses which you will laugh at and pretend to + believe good ones . . . . This last month, my wish to see Berlin again has + become immeasurable, and I will do my best to have Count Waldstein take me + there in the month of October or at least to permit me to go . . . . You + have given me an idea of Berlin far different than that the city left with + me when I passed four months there twenty-nine years ago . . . . If my + ‘Icosameron’ interests you, I offer you its Spirit. I wrote it here two + years ago and I would not have published it if I had not dared hope that + the Theological Censor would permit it. At Berlin no one raised the least + difficulty . . . . If circumstances do not permit me to pay you my + respects at Berlin, I hope for the happiness of seeing you here next year + . . . .” + </p> + <p> + Sometime after this and following his quarrel with M. Opiz, Casanova + evidently passed through a period of depression, as indicated by a + manuscript at Dux, headed “Short reflection of a philosopher who finds + himself thinking of procuring his own death,” and dated “the 13th December + 1793, the day dedicated to S. Lucie, remarkable in my too long life.” + </p> + <p> + “Life is a burden to me. What is the metaphysical being who prevents me + from slaying myself? It is Nature. What is the other being who enjoins me + to lighten the burdens of that life which brings me only feeble pleasures + and heavy pains? It is Reason. Nature is a coward which, demanding only + conservation, orders me to sacrifice all to its existence. Reason is a + being which gives me resemblance to God, which treads instinct under foot + and which teaches me to choose the best way after having well considered + the reasons. It demonstrates to me that I am a man in imposing silence on + the Nature which opposes that action which alone could remedy all my ills. + </p> + <p> + “Reason convinces me that the power I have of slaying myself is a + privilege given me by God, by which I perceive that I am superior to all + animals created in the world; for there is no animal who can slay itself + nor think of slaying itself, except the scorpion, which poisons itself, + but only when the fire which surrounds it convinces it that it cannot save + itself from being burned. This animal slays itself because it fears fire + more than death. Reason tells me imperiously that I have the right to slay + myself, with the divine oracle of Cen: ‘Qui non potest vivere bene non + vivat male.’ These eight words have such power that it is impossible that + a man to whom life is a burden could do other than slay himself on first + hearing them.” + </p> + <p> + Certainly, however, Casanova did not deceive himself with these sophisms, + and Nature, who for many years had unquestionably lavished her gifts on + him, had her way. + </p> + <p> + Over the end of the year, the two mathematicians, Casanova and Opiz, at + the request of Count Waldstein, made a scientific examination of the + reform of the calendar as decreed the 5th October 1793 by the National + Convention. + </p> + <p> + In January 1795, Casanova wrote to the Princess Lobkowitz to thank her for + her gift of a little dog. On the 16th the Princess wrote from Vienna: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, + </p> + <p> + “I am enchanted at the charming reception you accorded the dog which I + sent you when I learned of the death of your well-loved greyhound, knowing + that she would nowhere be better cared for than with you, Monsieur. I hope + with all my heart that she has all the qualities which may, in some + fashion, help you to forget the deceased . . . .” + </p> + <p> + In the autumn of 1795, Casanova left Dux. The Prince de Ligne writes in + his Memoirs: “God directed him to leave Dux. Scarcely believing in more + than his death, which he no longer doubted, he pretended that each thing + he had done was by the direction of God and this was his guide. God + directed him to ask me for letters of recommendation to the Duke of + Weimar, who was my good friend, to the Duchess of Gotha, who did not know + me, and to the Jews of Berlin. And he departed secretly, leaving for Count + Waldstein a letter at once tender, proud, honest and irritating. Waldstein + laughed and said he would return. Casanova waited in ante-chambers; no one + would place him either as governor, librarian or chamberlain. He said + everywhere that the Germans were thorough beasts. The excellent and very + amiable Duke of Weimer welcomed him wonderfully; but in an instant he + became jealous of Goethe and Wieland, who were under the Duke’s + protection. He declaimed against them and against the literature of the + country which he did not, and could not, know. At Berlin, he declaimed + against the ignorance, the superstition and the knavery of the Hebrews to + whom I had addressed him, drawing meanwhile, for the money they claimed of + him, bills of exchange on the Count who laughed, paid, and embraced him + when he returned. Casanova laughed, wept, and told him that God had + ordered him to make this trip of six weeks, to leave without speaking of + it, and to return to his chamber at Dux. Enchanted at seeing us again, he + agreeably related to us all the misfortunes which had tried him and to + which his susceptibility gave the name of humiliations. ‘I am proud,’ he + said, ‘because I am nothing’. . . . Eight days after his return, what new + troubles! Everyone had been served strawberries before him, and none + remained for him.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince de Ligne, although he was Casanova’s sincere friend and + admirer, gives a rather somber picture of Casanova’s life at Dux: “It must + not be imagined that he was satisfied to live quietly in the refuge + provided him through the kindness of Waldstein. That was not within his + nature. Not a day passed without trouble; something was certain to be + wrong with the coffee, the milk, the dish of macaroni, which he required + each day. There were always quarrels in the house. The cook had ruined his + polenta; the coachman had given him a bad driver to bring him to see me; + the dogs had barked all night; there had been more guests than usual and + he had found it necessary to eat at a side table. Some hunting-horn had + tormented his ear with its blasts; the priest had been trying to convert + him; Count Waldstein had not anticipated his morning greeting; the servant + had delayed with his wine; he had not been introduced to some + distinguished personage who had come to see the lance which had pierced + the side of the great Wallenstein; the Count had lent a book without + telling him; a groom had not touched his hat to him; his German speech had + been misunderstood; he had become angry and people had laughed at him.” + </p> + <p> + Like Count Waldstein, however, the Prince de Ligne made the widest + allowances, understanding the chafing of Casanova’s restless spirit. + “Casanova has a mind without an equal, from which each word is + extraordinary and each thought a book.” + </p> + <p> + On the 16th December, he wrote Casanova: “One is never old with your + heart, your genius and your stomach.” + </p> + <p> + Casanova’s own comment on his trip away from Dux will be found in the + Memoirs. “Two years ago, I set out for Hamburg, but my good genius made me + return to Dux. What had I to do at Hamburg?” + </p> + <p> + On the 10th December, Casanova’s brother Giovanni [Jean] died. He was the + Director of the Academy of Painting at Dresden. Apparently the two + brothers could not remain friends. + </p> + <p> + Giovanni left two daughters, Teresa and Augusta, and two sons, Carlo and + Lorenzo. While he was unable to remain friendly with his brother, Casanova + apparently wished to be of assistance to his nieces, who were not in the + best of circumstances, and he exchanged a number of letters with Teresa + after her father’s death. + </p> + <p> + On the occasion of Teresa Casanova’s visit to Vienna in 1792, Princess + Clari, oldest sister of the Prince de Ligne, wrote of her: “She is + charming in every way, pretty as love, always amiable; she has had great + success. Prince Kaunitz loves her to the point of madness.” + </p> + <p> + In a letter of the 25th April 1796, Teresa assured her “very amiable and + very dear uncle” that the cautions, which occupied three-fourths of his + letter, were unnecessary; and compared him with his brother Francois, to + the injury of the latter. On the 5th May, Teresa wrote: + </p> + <p> + “Before thanking you for your charming letter, my very kind uncle, I + should announce the issue of our pension of one hundred and sixty crowns a + year, which is to say, eighty crowns apiece; I am well satisfied for I did + not hope to receive so much.” In the same letter, Teresa spoke of seeing + much of a “charming man,” Don Antonio, who was no other than the rascally + adventurer Don Antonio della Croce with whom Casanova had been acquainted + since 1753, who assisted Casanova in losing a thousand sequins at Milan in + 1763; who in 1767, at Spa, following financial reverses, abandoned his + pregnant mistress to the charge of Casanova; and who in August 1795, wrote + to Casanova: “Your letter gave me great pleasure as the sweet souvenir of + our old friendship, unique and faithful over a period of fifty years.” + </p> + <p> + It is probable that, at this time, Casanova visited Dresden and Berlin + also. In his letter “To Leonard Snetlage,” he writes: “‘That which proves + that revolution should arrive,’ a profound thinker said to me in Berlin, + last year, ‘is that it has arrived.’” + </p> + <p> + On the 1st March, 1798, Carlo Angiolini, the son of Maria Maddalena, + Casanova’s sister, wrote to Casanova: “This evening, Teresa will marry M. + le Chambellan de Veisnicht [Von Wessenig] whom you know well.” This + desirable marriage received the approval of Francesco also. Teresa, as the + Baroness Wessenig, occupied a prominent social position at Dresden. She + died in 1842. + </p> + <p> + Between the 13th February and the 6th December 1796, Casanova engaged in a + correspondence with Mlle. Henriette de Schuckmann who was visiting at + Bayreuth. This Henriette (unfortunately not the Henriette of the Memoirs + whose “forty letters” to Casanova apparently have not been located), had + visited the library at Dux in the summer of 1786. “I was with the + Chamberlain Freiberg, and I was greatly moved, as much by your + conversation as by your kindness which provided me with a beautiful + edition of Metastasio, elegantly bound in red morocco.” Finding herself at + Bayreuth in an enforced idleness and wishing a stimulant, wishing also to + borrow some books, she wrote Casanova, under the auspices of Count Koenig, + a mutual friend, the 13th February 1796, recalling herself to his memory. + Casanova responded to her overtures and five of her letters were preserved + at Dux. On the 28th May Henriette wrote: + </p> + <p> + “But certainly, my good friend, your letters have given me the greatest + pleasure, and it is with a rising satisfaction that I pore over all you + say to me. I love, I esteem, I cherish, your frankness . . . . I + understand you perfectly and I love to distraction the lively and + energetic manner with which you express yourself.” + </p> + <p> + On the 30th September, she wrote: “You will read to-day, if you please, a + weary letter; for your silence, Monsieur, has given me humors. A promise + is a debt, and in your last letter you promised to write me at least a + dozen pages. I have every right to call you a bad debtor; I could summon + you before a court of justice; but all these acts of vengeance would not + repair the loss which I have endured through my hope and my fruitless + waiting . . . . It is your punishment to read this trivial page; but + although my head is empty, my heart is not so, and it holds for you a very + living friendship.” + </p> + <p> + In March 1797, this Henriette went to Lausanne and in May from there to + her father’s home at Mecklenburg. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0046" id="linkF2H_4_0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV — CORRESPONDENCE WITH JEAN-FERDINAND OPIZ + </h2> + <p> + On the 27th July 1792, Casanova wrote M. Opiz that he had finished the + twelfth volume of his Memoirs, with his age at forty-seven years 1772. + “Our late friend, the worthy Count Max Josef Lamberg,” he added, “could + not bear the idea of my burning my Memoirs, and expecting to survive me, + had persuaded me to send him the first four volumes. But now there is no + longer any questions that his good soul has left his organs. Three weeks + ago I wept for his death, all the more so as he would still be living if + he had listened to me. I am, perhaps, the only one who knows the truth. He + who slew him was the surgeon Feuchter at Cremsir, who applied thirty-six + mercurial plasters on a gland in his left groin which was swollen but not + by the pox, as I am sure by the description he gave me of the cause of the + swelling. The mercury mounted to his esophagus and, being able to swallow + neither solids nor fluids, he died the 23rd June of positive famine . . . + . The interest of the bungling surgeon is to say that he died of the pox. + This is not true, I beg, you to give the lie to anyone you hear saying it. + I have before my eyes four hundred and sixty of his letters over which I + weep and which I will burn. I have asked Count Leopold to burn mine, which + he had saved, and I hope that he will please me by doing it. I have + survived all my true friends. ‘Tempus abire mihi est’ Horace says to me. + </p> + <p> + “Returning to my Memoirs . . . I am a detestable man; but I do not care + about having it known, and I do not aspire to the honor of the detestation + of posterity. My work is full of excellent moral instructions. But to what + good, if the charming descriptions of my offences excite the readers more + to action than to repentance? Furthermore, knowing readers would divine + the names of all the women and of the men which I have masked, whose + transgressions are unknown to the world, my indiscretion would injure + them, they would cry out against my perfidy, even though every word of my + history were true . . . . Tell me yourself whether or not I should burn my + work? I am curious to have your advice.” + </p> + <p> + On the 6th May 1793, Casanova wrote Opiz: “The letter of recommendation + you ask of me to the professor my brother for your younger son, honors me; + and there is no doubt that, having for you all the estimation your + qualities merit, I should send it to you immediately. But this cannot be. + And here is the reason. My brother is my enemy; he has given me sure + indications of it and it appears that his hate will not cease until I no + longer exist. I hope that he may long survive me and be happy. This desire + is my only apology.” + </p> + <p> + “The epigraph of the little work which I would give to the public,” + Casanova wrote the 23rd August 1793, “is ‘In pondere et mensura’. It is + concerned with gravity and measure. I would demonstrate not only that the + course of the stars is irregular but also that it is susceptible only to + approximate measures and that consequently we must join physical and moral + calculations in establishing celestial movements. For I prove that all + fixed axes must have a necessarily irregular movement of oscillation, from + which comes a variation in all the necessary curves of the planets which + compose their eccentricities and their orbits. I demonstrate that light + has neither body nor spirit; I demonstrate that it comes in an instant + from its respective star; I demonstrate the impossibility of many + parallaxes and the uselessness of many others. I criticize not only + Tiko-Brahi, but also Kepler and Newton . . . . + </p> + <p> + “I wish to send you my manuscript and give you the trouble of publishing + it with my name at Prague or elsewhere . . . . I will sell it to the + printer or to yourself for fifty florins and twenty-five copies on fine + paper when it is printed.” + </p> + <p> + But Opiz replied: + </p> + <p> + “As the father of a family, I do not feel myself authorized to dispose of + my revenues on the impulse of my fancy or as my heart suggests.... and no + offer of yours could make me a book-seller.” + </p> + <p> + This shows plainly enough that Opiz, for all his interest in Casanova, had + not the qualities of true friendship. + </p> + <p> + On the 6th September 1793, Casanova wrote: + </p> + <p> + “I will have my Reveries printed at Dresden, and I will be pleased to send + you a copy. I laughed a little at your fear that I would take offense + because you did not want my manuscript by sending me the ridiculous sum I + named to you. This refusal, my dear friend, did not offend me. On the + contrary it was useful as an aid in knowing character. Add to this that in + making the offer I thought to make you a gift. Fear nothing from the + event. Your system of economy will never interfere with either my + proceedings or my doctrines; and I am in no need of begging you, for I + think that your action followed only your inclination and consequently + your greatest pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + On the insistence of Opiz, Casanova continued his correspondence, but he + passed over nothing more, neither in exact quotations from Latin authors, + nor solecisms, nor lame reasonings. He even reproached him for his poor + writing and did not cease joking at the philanthropic and amiable + sentiments Opiz loved to parade while at the same time keeping his + purse-strings tight. A number of quarreling letters followed, after which + the correspondence came to an end. One of Casanova’s last letters, that of + the 2nd February 1794, concludes: “One day M. de Bragadin said to me: + ‘Jacques, be careful never to convince a quibbler, for he will become your + enemy.’ After this wise advice I avoided syllogism, which tended toward + conviction. But in spite of this you have become my enemy. . . .” + </p> + <p> + Among the Casanova manuscripts at Dux was one giving his final comment on + his relations with Opiz. Accusing Opiz of bringing about a quarrel, + Casanova nevertheless admits that he himself may not be blameless, but + lays this to his carelessness. “I have a bad habit,” he writes, “of not + reading over my letters. If, in re-reading those I wrote to M. Opiz, I had + found them bitter, I would have burned them.” Probably Casanova struck the + root of the matter in his remark, “Perfect accord is the first charm of a + reciprocal friendship.” The two men were primarily of so different a + temperament, that they apparently could not long agree even on subjects on + which they were most in accord. + </p> + <p> + The complete correspondence is of very considerable interest. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0047" id="linkF2H_4_0047"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V — PUBLICATIONS + </h2> + <p> + In 1786, Casanova published ‘Le soliloque d’un penseur’, in which he + speaks of Saint-Germain and of Cagliostro. On the 23rd December 1792, + Zaguri wrote Casanova that Cagliostro was in prison at San Leo. “Twenty + years ago, I told Cagliostro not to set his foot in Rome, and if he had + followed this advice he would not have died miserably in a Roman prison.” + </p> + <p> + In January 1788, appeared ‘Icosameron’ a romance in five volumes, + dedicated to Count Waldstein, which he describes as “translated from the + English.” This fanciful romance, which included philosophic and + theological discussions, was the original work of Casanova and not a + translation. It was criticized in 1789 by a literary journal at Jena. + Preserved at Dux were several manuscripts with variants of ‘Icosameron’ + and also an unpublished reply to the criticism. + </p> + <p> + In 1788 Casanova published the history of his famous flight from “The + Leads”. An article on this book appeared in the German + ‘Litteratur-Zeitung’, 29th June 1789: “As soon as the history was + published and while it was exciting much interest among us and among our + neighbors, it was seen that other attempts at flight from prisons would + make their appearance. The subject in itself is captivating; all prisoners + awake our compassion, particularly when they are enclosed in a severe + prison and are possibly innocent . . . . The history with which we are + concerned has all the appearances of truth; many Venetians have testified + to it, and the principal character, M. Casanova, brother of the celebrated + painter, actually lives at Dux in Bohemia where the Count Waldstein has + established him as guardian of his important library.” + </p> + <p> + In July 1789 there was discovered, among the papers of the Bastille, the + letter which Casanova wrote from Augsburg in May 1767 to Prince Charles of + Courlande on the subject of fabricating gold. Carrel published this letter + at once in the third volume of his ‘Memoirs authentiques et historiques + sur la Bastille’. Casanova kept a copy of this letter and includes it in + the Memoirs. + </p> + <p> + In October 1789, Casanova wrote M. Opiz that he was writing to a professor + of mathematics [M. Lagrange] at Paris, a long letter in Italian, on the + duplication of the cube, which he wished to publish. In August 1790, + Casanova published his ‘Solution du Probleme Deliaque demontree and Deux + corollaires a la duplication de hexadre’. On the subject of his pretended + solution of this problem in speculative mathematics, Casanova engaged with + M. Opiz in a heated technical discussion between the 16th September and + 1st November 1790. Casanova sought vainly to convince Opiz of the + correctness of his solution. Finally, M. Opiz, tired of the polemics, + announced that he was leaving on a six-weeks tour of inspection and that + he would not be able to occupy himself with the duplication of the cube + for some time to come. On the 1st November, Casanova wished him a pleasant + journey and advised him to guard against the cold because “health is the + soul of life.” + </p> + <p> + In 1797, appeared the last book published during Casanova’s lifetime, a + small work entitled: ‘A Leonard Snetlage, docteur en droit de l’Universite + de Goettingue, Jacques Casanova, docteur en droit de l’Universite de + Padoue’. This was a careful criticism of the neologisms introduced into + French by the Revolution. In reference to Casanova’s title of “Doctor,” + researches by M. Favoro at the University of Padua had failed to establish + this claim, although, in the Memoirs Casanova had written: + </p> + <p> + “I remained at Padua long enough to prepare myself for the Doctor’s + degree, which I intended to take the following year.” With this devil of a + man, it is always prudent to look twice before peremptorily questioning + the truth of his statement. And in fact, the record of Casanova’s + matriculation was discovered by Signor Bruno Brunelli. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0048" id="linkF2H_4_0048"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI — SUMMARY of MY LIFE + </h2> + <p> + The 2nd November, 1797, Cecilia Roggendorff wrote to Casanova: “By the + way, how do you call yourself, by your baptismal name? On what day and in + what year were you born? You may laugh, if you wish, at my questions, but + I command you to satisfy me . . .” To this request, Casanova responded + with: + </p> + <p> + “Summary of My Life:—my mother brought me into the world at Venice + on the 2nd April, Easter day of the year 1725. She had, the night before, + a strong desire for crawfish. I am very fond of them. + </p> + <p> + “At baptism, I was named Jacques-Jerome. I was an idiot until I was + eight-and-a-half years old. After having had a hemorrhage for three + months, I was taken to Padua, where, cured of my imbecility, I applied + myself to study and, at the age of sixteen years I was made a doctor and + given the habit of a priest so that I might go seek my fortune at Rome. + </p> + <p> + “At Rome, the daughter of my French instructor was the cause of my being + dismissed by my patron, Cardinal Aquaviva. + </p> + <p> + “At the age of eighteen years, I entered the military service of my + country, and I went to Constantinople. Two years afterward, having + returned to Venice, I left the profession of honor and, taking the bit in + my teeth, embraced the wretched profession of a violinist. I horrified my + friends, but this did not last for very long. + </p> + <p> + “At the age of twenty-one years, one of the highest nobles of Venice + adopted me as his son, and, having become rich, I went to see Italy, + France, Germany and Vienna where I knew Count Roggendorff. I returned to + Venice, where, two years later, the State Inquisitors of Venice, for just + and wise reasons, imprisoned me under The Leads. + </p> + <p> + “This was the state prison, from which no one had ever escaped, but, with + the aid of God, I took flight at the end of fifteen months and went to + Paris. In two years, my affairs prospered so well that I became worth a + million, but, all the same, I went bankrupt. I made money in Holland; + suffered misfortune in Stuttgart; was received with honors in Switzerland; + visited M. de Voltaire; adventured in Genoa, Marseilles, Florence and in + Rome where the Pope Rezzonico, a Venetian, made me a Chevalier of + Saint-Jean-Latran and an apostolic protonotary. This was in the year 1760. + </p> + <p> + “In the same year I found good fortune at Naples; at Florence I carried + off a girl; and, the following year, I was to attend the Congress at + Augsburg, charged with a commission from the King of Portugal. The + Congress did not meet there and, after the publication of peace, I passed + on into England, which great misfortunes caused me to leave in the + following year, 1764. I avoided the gibbet which, however, should not have + dishonored me as I should only have been hung. In the same year I searched + in vain for fortune at Berlin and at Petersburg, but I found it at Warsaw + in the following year. Nine months afterwards, I lost it through being + embroiled in a pistol duel with General Branicki; I pierced his abdomen + but in eight months he was well again and I was very much pleased. He was + a brave man. Obliged to leave Poland, I returned to Paris in 1767, but a + ‘lettre de cachet’ obliged me to leave and I went to Spain where I met + with great misfortunes. I committed the crime of making nocturnal visits + to the mistress of the ‘vice-roi’, who was a great scoundrel. + </p> + <p> + “At the frontiers of Spain, I escaped from assassins only to suffer, at + Aix, in Provence, an illness which took me to the edge of the grave, after + spitting blood for eighteen months. + </p> + <p> + “In the year 1769, I published my Defense of the Government of Venice, in + three large volumes, written against Amelot de la Houssaie. + </p> + <p> + “In the following year the English Minister at the Court of Turin sent me, + well recommended, to Leghorn. I wished to go to Constantinople with the + Russian fleet, but as Admiral Orlof, would not meet my conditions, I + retraced my steps and went to Rome under the pontificate of Ganganelli. + </p> + <p> + “A happy love affair made me leave Rome and go to Naples and, three months + later, an unhappy love made me return to Rome. I had measured swords for + the third time with Count Medini who died four years ago at London, in + prison for his debts. + </p> + <p> + “Having considerable money, I went to Florence, where, during the + Christmas Festival, the Archduke Leopold, the Emperor who died four or + five years ago, ordered me to leave his dominions within three days. I had + a mistress who, by my advice, became Marquise de * * * at Bologna. + </p> + <p> + “Weary of running about Europe, I determined to solicit mercy from the + Venetian State Inquisitors. For this purpose, I established myself at + Trieste where, two years later, I obtained it. This was the 14th September + 1774. My return to Venice after nineteen years was the most pleasant + moment of my life. + </p> + <p> + “In 1782, I became embroiled with the entire body of the Venetian + nobility. At the beginning of 1783, I voluntarily left the ungrateful + country and went to Vienna. Six months later I went to Paris with the + intention of establishing myself there, but my brother, who had lived + there for twenty-six years, made me forget my interests in favor of his. I + rescued him from the hands of his wife and took him to Vienna where Prince + Kaunitz engaged him to establish himself. He is still there, older than I + am by two years. + </p> + <p> + “I placed myself in the service of M. Foscarini, Venetian Ambassador, to + write dispatches. Two years later, he died in my arms, killed by the gout + which mounted into his chest. I then set out for Berlin in the hope of + securing a position with the Academy, but, half way there, Count Waldstein + stopped me at Teplitz and led me to Dux where I still am and where, + according to all appearances, I shall die. + </p> + <p> + “This is the only summary of my life that I have written, and I permit any + use of it which may be desired. + </p> + <p> + “‘Non erubesco evangelium’. + </p> + <p> + “This 17th November 1797. + </p> + <p> + “Jacques Casanova.” + </p> + <p> + In reference to Casanova’s ironic remark about his escape from England, + see his conversation, on the subject of “dishonor,” with Sir Augustus + Hervey at London in 1763, which is given in the Memoirs. + </p> + <a name="linkF2H_4_0049" id="linkF2H_4_0049"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII — LAST DAYS AT DUX + </h2> + <p> + Scattered through the Memoirs are many of Casanova’s thoughts about his + old age. Some were possibly incorporated in the original text, others + possibly added when he revised the text in 1797. These vary from + resignation to bitterness, doubtless depending on Casanova’s state of mind + at the moment he wrote them: + </p> + <p> + “Now that I am seventy-two years old, I believe myself no longer + susceptible of such follies. But alas! that is the very thing which causes + me to be miserable.” + </p> + <p> + “I hate old age which offers only what I already know, unless I should + take up a gazette.” + </p> + <p> + “Age has calmed my passions by rendering them powerless, but my heart has + not grown old and my memory has kept all the freshness of youth.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have not forgotten her [Henriette]; for even now, when my head is + covered with white hair, the recollection of her is still a source of + happiness for my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “A scene which, even now, excites my mirth.” + </p> + <p> + “Age, that cruel and unavoidable disease, compels me to be in good health, + in spite of myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Now that I am but the shadow of the once brilliant Casanova, I love to + chatter.” + </p> + <p> + “Now that age has whitened my hair and deadened the ardor of my senses, my + imagination does not take such a high flight and I think differently.” + </p> + <p> + “What embitters my old age is that, having a heart as warm as ever, I have + no longer the strength necessary to secure a single day as blissful as + those which I owed to this charming girl.” + </p> + <p> + “When I recall these events, I grow young again and feel once more the + delights of youth, despite the long years which separate me from that + happy time.” + </p> + <p> + “Now that I am getting into my dotage, I look on the dark side of + everything. I am invited to a wedding and see naught but gloom; and, + witnessing the coronation of Leopold II, at Prague, I say to myself, ‘Nolo + coronari’. Cursed old age, thou art only worthy of dwelling in hell.” + </p> + <p> + “The longer I live, the more interest I take in my papers. They are the + treasure which attaches me to life and makes death more hateful still.” + </p> + <p> + And so on, through the Memoirs, Casanova supplies his own picture, knowing + very well that the end, even of his cherished memories, is not far + distant. + </p> + <p> + In 1797, Casanova relates an amusing, but irritating incident, which + resulted in the loss of the first three chapters of the second volume of + the Memoirs through the carelessness of a servant girl at Dux who took the + papers “old, written upon, covered with scribbling and erasures,” for “her + own purposes,” thus necessitating a re-writing, “which I must now + abridge,” of these chapters. Thirty years before, Casanova would doubtless + have made love to the girl and all would have been forgiven. But, alas for + the “hateful old age” permitting no relief except irritation and impotent + anger. + </p> + <p> + On the 1st August, 1797, Cecilia Roggendorff, the daughter of the Count + Roggendorff [printed Roquendorf] whom Casanova had met at Vienna in 1753, + wrote: “You tell me in one of your letters that, at your death, you will + leave me, by your will, your Memoirs which occupy twelve volumes.” + </p> + <p> + At this time, Casanova was revising, or had completed his revision of, the + twelve volumes. In July 1792, as mentioned above, Casanova wrote Opiz that + he had arrived at the twelfth volume. In the Memoirs themselves we read, + “. . . the various adventures which, at the age of seventy-two years, + impel me to write these Memoirs . . .,” written probably during a revision + in 1797. + </p> + <p> + At the beginning of one of the two chapters of the last volume, which were + missing until discovered by Arthur Symons at Dux in 1899, we read: “When I + left Venice in the year 1783, God ought to have sent me to Rome, or to + Naples, or to Sicily, or to Parma, where my old age, according to all + appearances, might have been happy. My genius, who is always right, led me + to Paris, so that I might see my brother Francois, who had run into debt + and who was just then going to the Temple. I do not care whether or not he + owes me his regeneration, but I am glad to have effected it. If he had + been grateful to me, I should have felt myself paid; it seems to me much + better that he should carry the burden of his debt on his shoulders, which + from time to time he ought to find heavy. He does not deserve a worse + punishment. To-day, in the seventy-third year of my life, my only desire + is to live in peace and to be far from any person who might imagine that + he has rights over my moral liberty, for it is impossible that any kind of + tyranny should not coincide with this imagination.” + </p> + <p> + Early in February, 1798, Casanova was taken sick with a very grave bladder + trouble of which he died after suffering for three-and-a-half months. On + the 16th February Zaguri wrote: “I note with the greatest sorrow the blow + which has afflicted you.” On the 31st March, after having consulted with a + Prussian doctor, Zaguri sent a box of medicines and he wrote frequently + until the end. + </p> + <p> + On the 20th April Elisa von der Recke, whom Casanova had met, some years + before, at the chateau of the Prince de Ligne at Teplitz, having returned + to Teplitz, wrote: “Your letter, my friend, has deeply affected me. + Although myself ill, the first fair day which permits me to go out will + find me at your side.” On the 27th, Elisa, still bedridden, wrote that the + Count de Montboisier and his wife were looking forward to visiting + Casanova. On the 6th May she wrote, regretting that she was unable to send + some crawfish soup, but that the rivers were too high for the peasants to + secure the crawfish. “The Montboisier family, Milady Clark, my children + and myself have all made vows for your recovery.” On the 8th, she sent + bouillon and madeira. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +On the 4th June, 1798, Casanova died. His nephew, Carlo Angiolini was +with him at the time. He was buried in the churchyard of Santa Barbara at +Dux. The exact location of his grave is uncertain, but a tablet, placed +against the outside wall of the church reads: + + JAKOB + CASANOVA + Venedig 1725 Dux 1798 +</pre> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Memoires of Casanova, Complete, by +Jacques Casanova de Seingalt + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEMOIRES OF CASANOVA, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 39306-h.htm or 39306-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/0/39306/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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