The Complete Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt

by Giacomo Casanova

  Observing the lovely face of the young girl, I do not hesitate, but jump into the gondola, and pay double fare, on condition that no more passengers are taken. An elderly priest was seated near the young girl, he rises to let me take his place, but I politely insist upon his keeping it.

  CHAPTER XIX

  I Fall in Love with Christine, and Find a Husband Worthy of

  Her—Christine's Wedding

  "Those gondoliers," said the elderly priest, ad dressing me in order to begin the conversation, "are very fortunate. They took us up at the Rialto for thirty soldi, on condition that they would be allowed to embark other passengers, and here is one already; they will certainly find more."

  "When I am in a gondola, reverend sir, there is no room left for any more passengers."

  So saying, I give forty more soldi to the gondoliers, who, highly pleased with my generosity, thank me and call me excellency. The good priest, accepting that title as truly belonging to me, entreats my pardon for not having addressed me as such.

  "I am not a Venetian nobleman, reverend sir, and I have no right to the title of Excellenza."

  "Ah!" says the young lady, "I am very glad of it."

  "Why so, signora?"

  "Because when I find myself near a nobleman I am afraid. But I suppose that you are an illustrissimo."

  "Not even that, signora; I am only an advocate's clerk."

  "So much the better, for I like to be in the company of persons who do not think themselves above me. My father was a farmer, brother of my uncle here, rector of P——, where I was born and bred. As I am an only daughter I inherited my father's property after his death, and I shall likewise be heiress to my mother, who has been ill a long time and cannot live much longer, which causes me a great deal of sorrow; but it is the doctor who says it. Now, to return to my subject, I do not suppose that there is much difference between an advocate's clerk and the daughter of a rich farmer. I only say so for the sake of saying something, for I know very well that, in travelling, one must accept all sorts of companions: is it not so, uncle?"

  "Yes, my dear Christine, and as a proof you see that this gentleman has accepted our company without knowing who or what we are."

  "But do you think I would have come if I had not been attracted by the beauty of your lovely niece?"

  At these words the good people burst out laughing. As I did not think that there was anything very comic in what I had said, I judged that my travelling companions were rather simple, and I was not sorry to find them so.

  "Why do you laugh so heartily, beautiful 'demigella'? Is it to shew me your fine teeth? I confess that I have never seen such a splendid set in Venice."

  "Oh! it is not for that, sir, although everyone in Venice has paid me the same compliment. I can assure you that in P—— all the 'girls have teeth as fine as mine. Is it not a fact, uncle?"

  "Yes, my dear niece."

  "I was laughing, sir, at a thing which I will never tell you."

  "Oh! tell me, I entreat you."

  "Oh! certainly not, never."

  "I will tell you myself," says the curate.

  "You will not," she exclaims, knitting her beautiful eyebrows. "If you do I will go away."

  "I defy you to do it, my dear. Do you know what she said, sir, when she saw you on the wharf? 'Here is a very handsome young man who is looking at me, and would not be sorry to be with us.' And when she saw that the gondoliers were putting back for you to embark she was delighted."

  While the uncle was speaking to me, the indignant niece was slapping him on the shoulder.

  "Why are you angry, lovely Christine, at my hearing that you liked my appearance, when I am so glad to let you know how truly charming I think you?"

  "You are glad for a moment. Oh! I know the Venetians thoroughly now. They have all told me that they were charmed with me, and not one of those I would have liked ever made a declaration to me."

  "What sort of declaration did you want?"

  "There's only one sort for me, sir; the declaration leading to a good marriage in church, in the sight of all men. Yet we remained a fortnight in Venice; did we not, uncle?"

  "This girl," said the uncle, "is a good match, for she possesses three thousand crowns. She has always said that she would marry only a Venetian, and I have accompanied her to Venice to give her an opportunity of being known. A worthy woman gave us hospitality for a fortnight, and has presented my niece in several houses where she made the acquaintance of marriageable young men, but those who pleased her would not hear of marriage, and those who would have been glad to marry her did not take her fancy."

  "But do you imagine, reverend sir, that marriages can be made like omelets? A fortnight in Venice, that is nothing; you ought to live there at least six months. Now, for instance, I think your niece sweetly pretty, and I should consider myself fortunate if the wife whom God intends for me were like her, but, even if she offered me now a dowry of fifty thousand crowns on condition that our wedding takes place immediately, I would refuse her. A prudent young man wants to know the character of a girl before he marries her, for it is neither money nor beauty which can ensure happiness in married life."

  "What do you mean by character?" asked Christine; "is it a beautiful hand-writing?"

  "No, my dear. I mean the qualities of the mind and the heart. I shall most likely get married sometime, and I have been looking for a wife for the last three years, but I am still looking in vain. I have known several young girls almost as lovely as you are, and all with a good marriage portion, but after an acquaintance of two or three months I found out that they could not make me happy."

  "In what were they deficient?"

  "Well, I will tell you, because you are not acquainted with them, and there can be no indiscretion on my part. One whom I certainly would have married, for I loved her dearly, was extremely vain. She would have ruined me in fashionable clothes and by her love for luxuries. Fancy! she was in the habit of paying one sequin every month to the hair-dresser, and as much at least for pomatum and perfumes."

  "She was a giddy, foolish girl. Now, I spend only ten soldi in one year on wax which I mix with goat's grease, and there I have an excellent pomatum."

  "Another, whom I would have married two years ago, laboured under a disease which would have made me unhappy; as soon as I knew of it, I ceased my visits."

  "What disease was it?"

  "A disease which would have prevented her from being a mother, and, if I get married, I wish to have children."

  "All that is in God's hands, but I know that my health is excellent. Is it not, uncle?"

  "Another was too devout, and that does not suit me. She was so over-scrupulous that she was in the habit of going to her confessor twice a week, and every time her confession lasted at least one hour. I want my wife to be a good Christian, but not bigoted."

  "She must have been a great sinner, or else she was very foolish. I confess only once a month, and get through everything in two minutes. Is it not true, uncle? and if you were to ask me any questions, uncle, I should not know what more to say."

  "One young lady thought herself more learned than I, although she would, every minute, utter some absurdity. Another was always low-spirited, and my wife must be cheerful."

  "Hark to that, uncle! You and my mother are always chiding me for my cheerfulness."

  "Another, whom I did not court long, was always afraid of being alone with me, and if I gave her a kiss she would run and tell her mother."

  "How silly she must have been! I have never yet listened to a lover, for we have only rude peasants in P——, but I know very well that there are some things which I would not tell my mother."

  "One had a rank breath; another painted her face, and, indeed, almost every young girl is guilty of that fault. I am afraid marriage is out of the question for me, because I want, for instance, my wife to have black eyes, and in our days almost every woman colours them by art; but I cannot be deceived, for I am a good judge."

  "
Are mine black?"

  "You are laughing?"

  "I laugh because your eyes certainly appear to be black, but they are not so in reality. Never mind, you are very charming in spite of that."

  "Now, that is amusing. You pretend to be a good judge, yet you say that my eyes are dyed black. My eyes, sir, whether beautiful or ugly, are now the same as God made them. Is it not so, uncle?"

  "I never had any doubt of it, my dear niece."

  "And you do not believe me, sir?"

  "No, they are too beautiful for me to believe them natural."

  "Oh, dear me! I cannot bear it."

  "Excuse me, my lovely damigella, I am afraid I have been too sincere."

  After that quarrel we remained silent. The good curate smiled now and then, but his niece found it very hard to keep down her sorrow.

  At intervals I stole a look at her face, and could see that she was very near crying. I felt sorry, for she was a charming girl. In her hair, dressed in the fashion of wealthy countrywomen, she had more than one hundred sequins' worth of gold pins and arrows which fastened the plaits of her long locks as dark as ebony. Heavy gold ear-rings, and a long chain, which was wound twenty times round her snowy neck, made a fine contrast to her complexion, on which the lilies and the roses were admirably blended. It was the first time that I had seen a country beauty in such splendid apparel. Six years before, Lucie at Pasean had captivated me, but in a different manner.

  Christine did not utter a single word, she was in despair, for her eyes were truly of the greatest beauty, and I was cruel enough to attack them. She evidently hated me, and her anger alone kept back her tears. Yet I would not undeceive her, for I wanted her to bring matters to a climax.

  When the gondola had entered the long canal of Marghera, I asked the clergyman whether he had a carriage to go to Treviso, through which place he had to pass to reach P——.

  "I intended to walk," said the worthy man, "for my parish is poor and I am the same, but I will try to obtain a place for Christine in some carriage travelling that way."

  "You would confer a real kindness on me if you would both accept a seat in my chaise; it holds four persons, and there is plenty of room."

  "It is a good fortune which we were far from expecting"

  "Not at all, uncle; I will not go with this gentleman."

  "Why not, my dear niece?"

  "Because I will not."

  "Such is the way," I remarked, without looking at her, "that sincerity is generally rewarded."

  "Sincerity, sir! nothing of the sort," she exclaimed, angrily, "it is sheer wickedness. There can be no true black eyes now for you in the world, but, as you like them, I am very glad of it."

  "You are mistaken, lovely Christine, for I have the means of ascertaining the truth."

  "What means?"

  "Only to wash the eyes with a little lukewarm rose-water; or if the lady cries, the artificial colour is certain to be washed off."

  At those words, the scene changed as if by the wand of a conjuror. The face of the charming girl, which had expressed nothing but indignation, spite and disdain, took an air of contentment and of placidity delightful to witness. She smiled at her uncle who was much pleased with the change in her countenance, for the offer of the carriage had gone to his heart.

  "Now you had better cry a little, my dear niece, and 'il signore' will render full justice to your eyes."

  Christine cried in reality, but it was immoderate laughter that made her tears flow.

  That species of natural originality pleased me greatly, and as we were going up the steps at the landing-place, I offered her my full apologies; she accepted the carriage. I ordered breakfast, and told a 'vetturino' to get a very handsome chaise ready while we had our meal, but the curate said that he must first of all go and say his mass.

  "Very well, reverend sir, we will hear it, and you must say it for my intention."

  I put a silver ducat in his hand.

  "It is what I am in the habit of giving," I observed.

  My generosity surprised him so much that he wanted to kiss my hand. We proceeded towards the church, and I offered my arm to the niece who, not knowing whether she ought to accept it or not, said to me,

  "Do you suppose that I cannot walk alone?"

  "I have no such idea, but if I do not give you my arm, people will think me wanting in politeness."

  "Well, I will take it. But now that I have your arm, what will people think?"

  "Perhaps that we love each other and that we make a very nice couple."

  "And if anyone should inform your mistress that we are in love with each other, or even that you have given your arm to a young girl?"

  "I have no mistress, and I shall have none in future, because I could not find a girl as pretty as you in all Venice."

  "I am very sorry for you, for we cannot go again to Venice; and even if we could, how could we remain there six months? You said that six months were necessary to know a girl well."

  "I would willingly defray all your expenses."

  "Indeed? Then say so to my uncle, and he will think it over, for I could not go alone."

  "In six months you would know me likewise."

  "Oh! I know-you very well already."

  "Could you accept a man like me?"

  "Why not?"

  "And will you love me?"

  "Yes, very much, when you are my husband."

  I looked at the young girl with astonishment. She seemed to me a princess in the disguise of a peasant girl. Her dress, made of 'gros de Tours' and all embroidered in gold, was very handsome, and cost certainly twice as much as the finest dress of a Venetian lady. Her bracelets, matching the neckchain, completed her rich toilet. She had the figure of a nymph, and the new fashion of wearing a mantle not having yet reached her village, I could see the most magnificent bosom, although her dress was fastened up to the neck. The end of the richly-embroidered skirt did not go lower than the ankles, which allowed me to admire the neatest little foot and the lower part of an exquisitely moulded leg. Her firm and easy walk, the natural freedom of all her movements, a charming look which seemed to say, "I am very glad that you think me pretty," everything, in short, caused the ardent fire of amorous desires to circulate through my veins. I could not conceive how such a lovely girl could have spent a fortnight in Venice without finding a man to marry or to deceive her. I was particularly delighted with her simple, artless way of talking, which in the city might have been taken for silliness.

  Absorbed in my thoughts, and having resolved in my own mind on rendering brilliant homage to her charms, I waited impatiently for the end of the mass.

  After breakfast I had great difficulty in convincing the curate that my seat in the carriage was the last one, but I found it easier to persuade him on our arrival in Treviso to remain for dinner and for supper at a small, unfrequented inn, as I took all the expense upon myself. He accepted very willingly when I added that immediately after supper a carriage would be in readiness to convey him to P——, where he would arrive in an hour after a peasant journey by moonlight. He had nothing to hurry him on, except his wish to say mass in his own church the next morning.

  I ordered a fire and a good dinner, and the idea struck me that the curate himself might pledge the ring for me, and thus give me the opportunity of a short interview with his niece. I proposed it to him, saying that I could not very well go myself, as I did not wish to be known. He undertook the commission at once, expressing his pleasure at doing something to oblige me.

  He left us, and I remained alone with Christine. I spent an hour with her without trying to give her even a kiss, although I was dying to do so, but I prepared her heart to burn with the same desires which were already burning in me by those words which so easily inflame the imagination of a young 'girl.

  The curate came back and returned me the ring, saying that it could not be pledged until the day after the morrow, in consequence of the Festival of the Holy Virgin. He had spoken to the cashier, who had
stated that if I liked the bank would lend double the sum I had asked.

  "My dear sir," I said, "you would greatly oblige me if you would come back here from P—— to pledge the ring yourself. Now that it has been offered once by you, it might look very strange if it were brought by another person. Of course I will pay all your expenses."

  "I promise you to come back."

  I hoped he would bring his niece with him.

  I was seated opposite to Christine during the dinner, and discovered fresh charms in her every minute, but, fearing I might lose her confidence if I tried to obtain some slight favour, I made up my mind not to go to work too quickly, and to contrive that the curate should take her again to Venice. I thought that there only I could manage to bring love into play and to give it the food it requires.

  "Reverend sir," I said, "let me advise you to take your niece again to Venice. I undertake to defray all expenses, and to find an honest woman with whom your Christine will be as safe as with her own mother. I want to know her well in order to make her my wife, and if she comes to Venice our marriage is certain."

  "Sir, I will bring my niece myself to Venice as soon as you inform me that you have found a worthy woman with whom I can leave her in safety."

  While we were talking I kept looking at Christine, and I could see her smile with contentment.

  "My dear Christine," I said, "within a week I shall have arranged the affair. In the meantime, I will write to you. I hope that you have no objection to correspond with me."

  "My uncle will write for me, for I have never been taught writing."

  "What, my dear child! you wish to become the wife of a Venetian, and you cannot write."

  "Is it then necessary to know how to write in order to become a wife? I can read well."

  "That is not enough, and although a girl can be a wife and a mother without knowing how to trace one letter, it is generally admitted that a young girl ought to be able to write. I wonder you never learned."