His confidence pleased me, and I complimented him upon it, for I have always been of the opinion that true merit begins by doing justice to itself.
Francis painted a fine picture, which on being exhibited at the Louvre, was received with applause. The Academy bought the picture for twelve thousand francs, my brother became famous, and in twenty-six years he made almost a million of money; but in spite of that, foolish expenditure, his luxurious style of living, and two bad marriages, were the ruin of him.
* * *
VOLUME 3 — THE ETERNAL QUEST
EPISODE 11 — PARIS AND HOLLAND
CHAPTER I
Count Tiretta of Trevisa Abbe Coste—Lambertini, the Pope's
Niece Her Nick—Name for Tiretta The Aunt and Niece—
Our Talk by the Fireside—Punishment of Damien—Tiretta's
Mistake Anger of Madame***—Their Reconciliation—
My Happiness with Mdlle. de la Meure Silvia's Daughter—Mdlle.
de la Meure Marries—My Despair and Jealousy—A Change far
the Better
In the beginning of March, 1757, I received a letter from my friend Madame Manzoni, which she sent to me by a young man of good appearance, with a frank and high-born air, whom I recognized as a Venetian by his accent. He was young Count Tiretta de Trevisa, recommended to my care by Madame Manzoni, who said that he would tell me his story, which I might be sure would be a true one. The kind woman sent to me by him a small box in which she told me I should find all my manuscripts, as she did not think she would ever see me again.
I gave Tiretta the heartiest of welcomes, telling him that he could not have found a better way to my favour than through a woman to whom I was under the greatest obligations.
"And now, that you may be at your ease with me, I should like to know in what manner I can be of service to you?"
"I have need of your friendship, perhaps of your purse, but at any rate of your protection."
"You have my friendship and my protection already, and my purse is at your service."
After expressing his gratitude to me, Tiretta said,
"A year ago the Supreme Council of my country entrusted me with an employment dangerous to one of my years. I was made, with some other young gentlemen of my own age, a keeper of the Mont de Piete. The pleasures of the carnival having put us to a good deal of expense, we were short of money, and borrowed from the till hoping to be able to make up the money before balancing-day, but hoping all in vain.
"The fathers of my two companions, richer than mine, paid the sums they had taken, and I, not being able to pay, took the part of escaping by flight from the shame and the punishment I should have undergone.
"Madame Manzoni advised me to throw myself on your mercy, and she gave me a little box which you shall have to-day. I only got to Paris yesterday, and have only two louis, a little linen, and the clothes on my back. I am twenty-five, have an iron constitution, and a determination to do all in my power to make an honest living; but I can do nothing. I have not cultivated any one talent in a manner to make use of it now. I can play on the flute, but only as an amateur. I only know my own language, and I have no taste for literature. So what can you make of me? I must add that I have not a single expectation, least of all from my father, for to save the honour of the family he will be obliged to sell my portion of the estate, to which I shall have to bid an eternal farewell."
If the count's story had surprised me, the simplicity with which he told it had given me pleasure; and I was resolved to do honour to Madame Manzoni's introduction, feeling that it was my duty to serve a fellow-countryman, who was really guilty of nothing worse than gross thoughtlessness.
"Begin," said I, "by bringing your small belongings to the room next to mine, and get your meals there. I will pay for everything while I am looking out for something which may do for you.
"We will talk of business to-morrow, for as I never dine here I rarely if ever come home till late, and I do not expect to have the honour of seeing you again today. Leave me for the present, as I have got some work to do; and if you go out to walk, beware of bad company, and whatever you do keep your own counsel. You are fond of gaming, I suppose?"
"I hate it, as it has been the cause of half my troubles."
"And the other half, I'll wager, was caused by women."
"You have guessed aright—oh, those women!"
"Well, don't be angry with them, but make them pay for the ill they have done you."
"I will, with the greatest pleasure, if I can."
"If you are not too particular in your goods, you will find Paris rich in such commodities."
"What do you mean by particular? I would never be a prince's pathic."
"No, no, I was not thinking of that. I mean by 'particular' a man who cannot be affectionate unless he is in love. The man who . . . ."
"I see what you mean, and I can lay no claim to such a character. Any hag with golden eyes will always find me as affectionate as a Celadon."
"Well said! I shall soon be able to arrange matters for you."
"I hope you will."
"Are you going to the ambassador's?"
"Good God!—no! What should I do when I got there? Tell him my story? He might make things unpleasant for me."
"Not without your going to see him, but I expect he is not concerning himself with your case."
"That's all I ask him."
"Everybody, my dear count, is in mourning in Paris, so go to my tailor's and get yourself a black suit. Tell him you come from me, and say you want it by tomorrow. Good bye."
I went out soon after, and did not come back till midnight. I found the box which Madame Manzoni had sent me in my room, and in it my manuscripts and my beloved portraits, for I never pawned a snuff-box without taking the portrait out.
Next day Tiretta made his appearance all in black, and thanked me for his transformation.
"They are quick, you see, at Paris. It would have taken a week at Trevisa."
"Trevisa, my dear fellow, is not Paris."
As I said this, the Abbe de la Coste was announced. I did not know the name, but I gave orders for him to be admitted; and there presently appeared the same little priest with whom I had dined at Versailles after leaving the Abbe de la Ville.
After the customary greetings he began by complimenting me on the success of my lottery, and then remarked that I had distributed tickets for more than six thousand francs.
"Yes," I said, "and I have tickets left for several thousands more."
"Very good, then I will invest a thousand crowns in it."
"Whenever you please. If you call at my office you can choose the numbers."
"No, I don't think I'll trouble to do so; give me any numbers just as they come."
"Very good; here is the list you can choose from."
He chose numbers to the amount of three thousand francs, and then asked me for a piece of paper to write an acknowledgment.
"Why so? I can't do business that way, as I only dispose of my tickets for cash."
"But you may be certain that you will have the money to-morrow."
"I am quite sure I should, but you ought to be certain that you will have the tickets to-morrow. They are registered at my office, and I can dispose of them in no other manner."
"Give me some which are not registered."
"Impossible; I could not do it."
"Why not?"
"Because if they proved to be winning numbers I should have to pay out of my own pocket an honour I do not desire."
"Well, I think you might run the risk."
"I think not, if I wish to remain an honest man, at all events."
The abbe, who saw he could get nothing out of me, turned to Tiretta, and began to speak to him in bad Italian, and at last offered to introduce him to Madame de Lambertini, the widow of one of the Pope's nephews. Her name, her relationship to the Pope, and the abbe's spontaneous offer, made me curious to know more, so I said that my friend would accept hi
s offer, and that I would have the honour to be of the party; whereupon we set out.
We got down at the door of the supposed niece of the Holy Father in the Rue Christine, and we proceeded to go upstairs. We saw a woman who, despite her youthful air, was, I am sure, not a day under forty. She was rather thin, had fine black eyes, a good complexion, lively but giddy manners, was a great laugher, and still capable of exciting a passing fancy. I soon made myself at home with her, and found out, when she began to talk, that she was neither a widow nor the niece of the Pope. She came from Modena, and was a mere adventuress. This discovery shewed me what sort of a man the abbe was.
I thought from his expression that the count had taken a fancy to her, and when she asked us to dinner I refused on the plea of an engagement; but Tiretta, who took my meaning, accepted. Soon after I went away with the abbe, whom I dropped at the Quai de la Ferraille, and I then went to beg a dinner at Calsabigi's.
After dinner Calsabigi took me on one side, and told me that M. du Vernai had commissioned him to warn me that I could not dispose of tickets on account.
"Does M. du Vernai take me for a fool or a knave? As I am neither, I shall complain to M. de Boulogne."
"You will be wrong; he merely wanted to warn you and not offend you."
"You offend me very much yourself, sir, in talking to me in that fashion; and you may make up your mind that no one shall talk to me thus a second time."
Calsabigi did all in his power to quiet me down, and at last persuaded me to go with him to M. du Vernai's. The worthy old gentleman seeing the rage I was in apologized to me for what he had said, and told me that a certain Abbe de la Coste had informed him that I did so. At this I was highly indignant, and I told him what had happened that morning, which let M. du Vernai know what kind of a man the abbe was. I never saw him again, either because he got wind of my discovery, or because a happy chance kept him out of my way; but I heard, three years after, that he had been condemned to the hulks for selling tickets of a Trevaux lottery which was non-existent, and in the hulks he died.
Next day Tiretta came in, and said he had only just returned.
"You have been sleeping out, have you, master profligate?"
"Yes, I was so charmed with the she-pope that I kept her company all the night."
"You were not afraid of being in the way?"
"On the contrary, I think she was thoroughly satisfied with my conversation."
"As far as I can see, you had to bring into play all your powers of eloquence."
"She is so well pleased with my fluency that she has begged me to accept a room in her house, and to allow her to introduce me as a cousin to M. le Noir, who, I suppose, is her lover."
"You will be a trio, then; and how do you think you will get on together?"
"That's her business. She says this gentleman will give me a good situation in the Inland Revenue."
"Have you accepted her offer?"
"I did not refuse it, but I told her that I could do nothing without your advice. She entreated me to get you to come to dinner with her on Sunday."
"I shall be happy to go."
I went with my friend, and as soon as the harebrain saw us she fell on Tiretta's neck, calling him dear Count "Six-times"—a name which stuck to him all the time he was at Paris.
"What has gained my friend so fine a title, madam?"
"His erotic achievements. He is lord of an honour of which little is known in France, and I am desirous of being the lady."
"I commend you for so noble an ambition."
After telling me of his feats with a freedom which chewed her exemption from vulgar prejudice, she informed me that she wished her cousin to live in the same house, and had already obtained M. le Noir's permission, which was given freely.
"M. le Noir," added the fair Lambertini, "will drop in after dinner, and I am dying to introduce Count 'Sixtimes' to him."
After dinner she kept on speaking of the mighty deeds of my countryman, and began to stir him up, while he, no doubt, pleased to have a witness to his exploits, reduced her to silence. I confess that I witnessed the scene without excitement, but as I could not help seeing the athletic person of the count, I concluded that he might fare well everywhere with the ladies.
About three o'clock two elderly women arrived, to whom the Lambertini eagerly introduced Count "Six-times." In great astonishment they enquired the origin of his title, and the heroine of the story having whispered it to them, my friend became an object of interest.
"I can't believe it," said one of these ladies, ogling the count, while his face seemed to say,
"Would you like to try?"
Shortly after, a coach stopped at the door, and a fat woman of middle-aged appearance and a very pretty girl were ushered in; after them came a pale man in a black suit and a long wig. After greeting them in a manner which implied intimacy, the Pope's niece introduced her cousin Count "Six-strokes". The elderly woman seemed to be astonished at such a name, but the Lambertini gave no explanation. Nevertheless, people seemed to think it rather curious that a man who did not know a word of French should be living in Paris, and that in spite of his ignorance he continued to jabber away in an easy manner, though nobody could understand what he was talking about.
After some foolish conversation, the Pope's niece proposed a game at Loo. She asked me to play but on my refusing did not make a point of it, but she insisted on her cousin being her partner.
"He knows nothing about cards," said she; "but that's no matter, he will learn, and I will undertake to instruct him."
As the girl, by whose beauty I was struck, did not understand the game, I offered her a seat by the fire, asking her to grant me the honour of keeping her company, whereupon the elderly woman who had brought her began to laugh, and said I should have some difficulty in getting her niece to talk about anything, adding, in a polite manner, that she hoped I would be lenient with her as she had only just left a convent. I assured her that I should have no difficulty in amusing myself with one so amiable, and the game having begun I took up my position near the pretty niece.
I had been near her for several minutes, and solely occupied in mute admiration of her beauty, when she asked me who was that handsome gentleman who talked so oddly.
"He is a nobleman, and a fellow-countryman of mine, whom an affair of honour has banished from his country."
"He speaks a curious dialect."
"Yes, but the fact is that French is very little spoken in Italy; he will soon pick it up in Paris, and then he will be laughed at no longer. I am sorry to have brought him here, for in less than twenty-four hours he was spoiled."
"How spoiled?"
"I daren't tell you as, perhaps, your aunt would not like it."
"I don't think I should tell her, but, perhaps, I should not have asked."
"Oh, yes! you should; and as you wish to know I will make no mystery of it. Madame Lambertini took a fancy to him; they passed the night together, and in token of the satisfaction he gave her she has given him the ridiculous nickname of 'Count Sixtimes.' That's all. I am vexed about it, as my friend was no profligate."
Astonishment—and very reasonable astonishment—will be expressed that I dared to talk in this way to a girl fresh from a convent; but I should have been astonished myself at the bare idea of any respectable girl coming to Lambertini's house. I fixed my gaze on my fair companion, and saw the blush of shame mounting over her pretty face; but I thought that might have more than one meaning.
Judge of my surprise when, two minutes afterwards, I heard this question:
"But what has 'Sixtimes' got to do with sleeping with Madame Lambertini?"
"My dear young lady, the explanation is perfectly simple: my friend in a single night did what a husband often takes six weeks to do."
"And you think me silly enough to tell my aunt of what we have been talking? Don't believe it."
"But there's another thing I am sorry about."
"You shall tell me what that is directly.
"
The reason which obliged the charming niece to retire for a few minutes may be guessed without our going into explanations. When she came back she went behind her aunt's chair, her eyes fixed on Tiretta, and then came up to me, and taking her seat again, said:
"Now, what else is it that you are sorry about?" her eyes sparkling as she asked the question.
"May I tell you, do you think?"
"You have said so much already, that I don't think you need have any scruples in telling me the rest."
"Very good: you must know, then, that this very day and in my presence he—— -her."
"If that displeased you, you must be jealous."
"Possibly, but the fact is that I was humbled by a circumstance I dare not tell you."
"I think you are laughing at me with your 'dare not tell you.'"
"God forbid, mademoiselle! I will confess, then, that I was humbled because Madame Lambertini made me see that my friend was taller than myself by two inches."
"Then she imposed on you, for you are taller than your friend."
"I am not speaking of that kind of tallness, but another; you know what I mean, and there my friend is really monstrous."
"Monstrous! then what have you to be sorry about? Isn't it better not to be monstrous?"
"Certainly; but in the article we are discussing, some women, unlike you, prefer monstrosity."
"I think that's absurd of them, or rather mad; or perhaps, I have not sufficiently clear ideas on the subject to imagine what size it would be to be called monstrous; and I think it is odd that such a thing should humble you."
"You would not have thought it of me, to see me?"
"Certainly not, for when I came into the room I thought you looked a well-proportioned man, but if you are not I am sorry for you."
"I won't leave you in doubt on the subject; look for yourself, and tell me what you think."
"Why, it's you who are the monster! I declare you make me feel quite afraid."
The Complete Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt Page 131