The Complete Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt

by Giacomo Casanova

  One night I came in at one o'clock, and not feeling inclined to sleep, I took a candle and went in search of my charmer. I was rather surprised to find Signora Laura's door half open, and just as I was going in the old woman came forward and took me by the arm, begging me not to go into her daughter's room.

  "Why?" said I.

  "She has been very poorly all the evening, and she is in need of sleep."

  "Very good; then I will sleep too."

  So saying I pushed the mother to one side, and entering the girl's room I found her in bed with someone who was hiding under the sheets.

  I 'gazed at the picture for a moment and then began to laugh, and sitting down on the bed begged to enquire the name of the happy individual whom I should have the pleasure of throwing out of the window. On a chair I saw the coat, trousers, hat, and cane of the gentleman; but as I had my two trusty pistols about me I knew I had nothing to fear; however, I did not want to make a noise.

  With tears in her eyes, and trembling all over, the girl took my hand and begged me to forgive her.

  "It's a young lord," said she, "and I don't even know his name."

  "Oh, he is a young lord, is he? and you don't know his name, you little hussy, don't you? Well, he will tell me himself."

  So saying, I took a pistol and vigorously stripped the sheets off the cuckoo who had got into my nest. I saw the face of a young man whom I did not know, his head covered with a nightcap, but the rest perfectly naked, as indeed was my mistress. He turned his back to me to get his shirt which he had thrown on the floor, but seizing him by the arm I held him firmly, with my pistol to his forehead.

  "Kindly tell me your name, fair sir."

  "I am Count B——, canon of Bale."

  "And do you think you have been performing an ecclesiastical function here?"

  "No sir, no, and I hope you will forgive me and the lady too, for I am the only guilty party."

  "I am not asking you whether she is guilty or not."

  "Sir, the countess is perfectly innocent."

  I felt in a good temper, and far from being angry I was strongly inclined to laugh. I found the picture before me an attractive one; it was amusing and voluptuous. The sight of the two nudities on the bed was a truly lascivious one, and I remained contemplating it in silence for a quarter of an hour, occupied in resisting a strong temptation to take off my clothes and lie beside them. The only thing which prevented my yielding to it was the fear that I might find the canon to be a fool, incapable of playing the part with dignity. As for the Corticelli, she soon passed from tears to laughter, and would have done it well, but if, as I feared, the canon was a blockhead, I should have been degrading myself.

  I felt certain that neither of them had guessed my thoughts, so I rose and told the canon to put on his clothes.

  "No one must hear anything more of this," said I, "but you and I will go to a distance of two hundred paces and burn a little powder."

  "No, no, sir," cried my gentleman, "you may take me where you like, and kill me if you please, but I was not meant for a fighting man."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, sir, and I only became a priest to escape the fatal duty of duelling."

  "Then you are a coward, and will not object to a good thrashing?"

  "Anything you like, but it would be cruelty, for my love blinded me. I only came here a quarter of an hour ago, and the countess and her governess were both asleep."

  "You are a liar."

  "I had only just taken off my shirt when you came, and I have never seen this angel before."

  "And that's gospel truth," said the Corticelli.

  "Are you aware that you are a couple of impudent scoundrels? And as for you, master canon, you deserve to be roasted like St. Laurence."

  In the meanwhile the wretched ecclesiastic had huddled on his clothes.

  "Follow me, sir," said I, in a tone which froze the marrow of his bones; and I accordingly took him to my room.

  "What will you do," said I, "if I forgive you and let you go without putting you to shame?"

  "I will leave in an hour and a half, and you shall never see me here again; but even if we meet in the future, you will find me always ready to do you a service."

  "Very good. Begone, and in the future take more precautions in your amorous adventures."

  After this I went to bed, well pleased with what I had seen and what I had done, for I now had complete power over the Corticelli.

  In the morning I called on her as soon as I got up, and told her to pack up her things, forbidding her to leave her room till she got into the carriage.

  "I shall say I am ill."

  "Just as you please, but nobody will take any notice of you."

  I did not wait for her to make any further objections, but proceeded to tell the tale of what had passed to Madame d'Urfe, slightly embroidering the narrative. She laughed heartily, and enquired of the oracle what must be done with the Lascaris after her evident pollution by the evil genius disguised as a priest. The oracle replied that we must set out the next day for Besancon, whence she would go to Lyons and await me there, while I would take the countess to Geneva, and thus send her back to her native country.

  The worthy visionary was enchanted with this arrangement, and saw in it another proof of the benevolence of Selenis, who would thus give her an opportunity of seeing young Aranda once more. It was agreed that I was to rejoin her in the spring of the following year, to perform the great operation which was to make her be born a man. She had not the slightest doubts as to the reasonableness of this performance.

  All was ready, and the next day we started; Madame d'Urfe and I in the travelling carriage, and the Corticelli, her mother, and the servants in another conveyance.

  When we got to Besancon Madame d'Urfe left me, and on the next day I journeyed towards Geneva with the mother and daughter.

  On the way I not only did not speak to my companions, I did not so much as look at them. I made them have their meals with a servant from the Franche Comte, whom I had taken on M. de Schaumburg's recommendation.

  I went to my banker, and asked him to get me a good coachman, who would take two ladies of my acquaintance to Turin.

  When I got back to the inn I wrote to the Chevalier Raiberti, sending him a bill of exchange. I warned him that in three or four days after the receipt of my letter he would be accosted by a Bolognese dancer and her mother, bearing a letter of commendation. I begged him to see that they lodged in a respectable house, and to pay for them on my behalf. I also said that I should be much obliged if he would contrive that she should dance, even for nothing, at the carnival, and I begged him to warn her that, if I heard any tales about her when I came to Turin, our relations would be at an end.

  The following day a clerk of M. Tronchin's brought a coachman for me to see. The man said he was ready to start as soon as he had had his dinner. I confirmed the agreement he had made with the banker, I summoned the two Corticellis, and said to the coachman,

  "These are the persons you are to drive, and they will pay you when they reach Turin in safety with their luggage. You are to take four days and a half for the journey, as is stipulated in the agreement, of which they have one copy and you another." An hour after he called to put the luggage in.

  The Corticelli burst into tears, but I was not so cruel as to send her away without any consolation. Her bad conduct had been severely enough punished already. I made her dine with me, and as I gave her the letter for M. Raiberti, and twenty-five Louis for the journey, I told her what I had written to the gentleman, who would take good care of them. She asked me for a trunk containing three dresses and a superb mantle which Madame d'Urfe had given her before she became mad, but I said that we would talk of that at Turin. She dared not mention the casket, but continued weeping; however, she did not move me to pity. I left her much better off than when I first knew her; she had good clothes, good linen, jewels, and an exceedingly pretty watch I had given her; altogether a good deal more than she dese
rved.

  As she was going I escorted her to the carriage, less for politeness' sake than to commend her once more to the coachman. When she was fairly gone I felt as if a load had been taken off my back, and I went to look up my worthy syndic, whom the reader will not have forgotten. I had not written to him since I was in Florence, and I anticipated the pleasure of seeing his surprise, which was extreme. But after gazing at me for a moment he threw his arms round my neck, kissed me several times, and said he had not expected the pleasure of seeing me.

  "How are our sweethearts getting on?"

  "Excellently. They are always talking about you and regretting your absence; they will go wild with joy when they know you are here."

  "You must tell them directly, then."

  "I will go and warn them that we shall all sup together this evening. By the way, M. de Voltaire has given up his house at Delices to M. de Villars, and has gone to live at Ferney."

  "That makes no difference to me, as I was not thinking of calling on him this time. I shall be here for two or three weeks, and I mean to devote my time to you."

  "You are too good."

  "Will you give me writing materials before you go out? I will write a few letters while you are away."

  He put me in possession of his desk, and I wrote to my late housekeeper, Madame Lebel, telling her that I was going to spend three weeks at Geneva, and that if I were sure of seeing her I would gladly pay a visit to Lausanne. Unfortunately, I also wrote to the bad Genoese poet, Ascanio Pogomas, or Giaccomo Passano, whom I had met at Leghorn. I told him to go to Turin and to wait for me there. At the same time I wrote to M. F——, to whom I had commended him, asking him to give the poet twelve Louis for the journey.

  My evil genius made me think of this man, who was an imposing-looking fellow, and had all the air of a magician, to introduce him to Madame d'Urfe as a great adept. You will see, dear reader, in the course of a year whether I had reason to repent of this fatal inspiration.

  As the syndic and I were on our way to our young friend's house I saw an elegant English carriage for sale, and I exchanged it for mine, giving the owner a hundred Louis as well. While the bargain was going on the uncle of the young theologian who argued so well, and to whom I had given such pleasant lessons in physiology, came up to me, embraced me, and asked me to dine with him the next day.

  Before we got to the house the syndic informed me that we should find another extremely pretty but uninitiated girl present.

  "All the better," said I, "I shall know how to regulate my conduct, and perhaps I may succeed in initiating her."

  In my pocket I had placed a casket containing a dozen exquisite rings. I had long been aware that such trifling presents are often very serviceable.

  The moment of meeting those charming girls once more was one of the happiest I have ever enjoyed. In their greeting I read delight and love of pleasure. Their love was without envy or jealousy, or any ideas which would have injured their self-esteem. They felt worthy of my regard, as they had lavished their favours on me without any degrading feelings, and drawn by the same emotion that had drawn me.

  The presence of the neophyte obliged us to greet each other with what is called decency, and she allowed me to kiss her without raising her eyes, but blushing violently.

  After the usual commonplaces had passed and we had indulged in some double meanings which made us laugh and her look thoughtful, I told her she was pretty as a little love, and that I felt sure that her mind, as beautiful as its casket, could harbour no prejudices.

  "I have all the prejudices which honour and religion suggest," she modestly replied.

  I saw that this was a case requiring very delicate treatment. There was no question of carrying the citadel by sudden assault. But, as usual, I fell in love with her.

  The syndic having pronounced my name, she said,—

  "Ah! then, you, sir, are the person who discussed some very singular questions with my cousin, the pastor's niece. I am delighted to make your acquaintance."

  "I am equally pleased to make yours, but I hope the pastor's niece said nothing against me."

  "Not at all; she has a very high opinion of you."

  "I am going to dine with her to-morrow, and I shall take care to thank her."

  "To-morrow! I should like to be there, for I enjoy philosophical discussions though I never dare to put a word in."

  The syndic praised her discretion and wisdom in such a manner that I was convinced he was in love with her, and that he had either seduced her or was trying to do so. Her name was Helen. I asked the young ladies if Helen was their sister. The eldest replied, with a sly smile, that she was a sister, but as yet she had no brother; and with this explanation she ran up to Helen and kissed her. Then the syndic and I vied with each other in paying her compliments, telling her that we hoped to be her brothers. She blushed, but gave no answer to our gallantries. I then drew forth my casket, and seeing that all the girls were enchanted with the rings, I told them to choose which ones they liked best. The charming Helen imitated their example, and repaid me with a modest kiss. Soon after she left us, and we were once more free, as in old times.

  The syndic had good cause to shew for his love of Helen. She was not merely pleasing, she was made to inspire a violent passion. However, the three friends had no hope of making her join in their pleasures, for they said that she had invincible feelings of modesty where men were concerned.

  We supped merrily, and after supper we began our sports again, the syndic remaining as usual a mere looker-on, and well pleased with his part. I treated each of the three nymphs to two courses, deceiving them whenever I was forced by nature to do so. At midnight we broke up, and the worthy syndic escorted me to the door of my lodging.

  The day following I went to the pastor's and found a numerous party assembled, amongst others M. d'Harcourt and M. de Ximenes, who told me that M. de Voltaire knew that I was at Geneva and hoped to see me. I replied by a profound bow. Mdlle. Hedvig, the pastor's niece, complimented me, but I was still better pleased to see her cousin Helen. The theologian of twenty-two was fair and pleasant to the eyes, but she had not that 'je ne sais quoi', that shade of bitter-sweet, which adds zest to hope as well as pleasure. However, the evident friendship between Hedvig and Helen gave me good hopes of success with the latter.

  We had an excellent dinner, and while it lasted the conversation was restricted to ordinary topics; but at dessert the pastor begged M. de Ximenes to ask his niece some questions. Knowing his worldwide reputation, I expected him to put her some problem in geometry, but he only asked whether a lie could be justified on the principle of a mental reservation.

  Hedvig replied that there are cases in which a lie is necessary, but that the principle of a mental reservation is always a cheat.

  "Then how could Christ have said that the time in which the world was to come to an end was unknown to Him?"

  "He was speaking the truth; it was not known to Him."

  "Then he was not God?"

  "That is a false deduction, for since God may do all things, He may certainly be ignorant of an event in futurity."

  I thought the way in which she brought in the word "futurity" almost sublime. Hedvig was loudly applauded, and her uncle went all round the table to kiss her. I had a very natural objection on the tip of my tongue, which she might have found difficult to answer, but I wanted to get into her good graces and I kept my own counsel.

  M. d'Harcourt was urged to ask her some questions, but he replied in the words of Horace, 'Nulla mihi religio est'. Then Hedvig turned to me and asked me to put her some hard question, "something difficult, which you don't know yourself."

  "I shall be delighted. Do you grant that a god possesses in a supreme degree the qualities of man?"

  "Yes, excepting man's weaknesses."

  "Do you class the generative power as a weakness?"

  "No."

  "Will you tell me, then, of what nature would have been the offspring of a union between a god and
a mortal woman?"

  Hedvig looked as red as fire.

  The pastor and the other guests looked at each other, while I gazed fixedly at the young theologian, who was reflecting. M. d'Harcourt said that we should have to send for Voltaire to settle a question so difficult, but as Hedvig had collected her thoughts and seemed ready to speak everybody was silent.

  "It would be absurd," said she, "to suppose that a deity could perform such an action without its having any results. At the end of nine months a woman would be delivered a male child, which would be three parts man and one part god."

  At these words all the guests applauded, M. de Ximenes expressed his admiration of the way the question had been solved, adding,—

  "Naturally, if the son of the woman married, his children would be seven-eighths men and one-eighth gods."

  "Yes," said I, "unless he married a goddess, which would have made the proportion different."

  "Tell me exactly," said Hedvig, "what proportion of divinity there would be in a child of the sixteenth generation."

  "Give me a pencil and I will soon tell you," said M. de Ximenes.

  "There is no need to calculate it," said I; "the child would have some small share of the wit which you enjoy."

  Everybody applauded this gallant speech, which did not by any means offend the lady to whom it was addressed.

  This pretty blonde was chiefly desirable for the charms of her intellect. We rose from the table and made a circle round her, but she told us with much grace not to pay her any more compliments.

  I took Helen aside, and told her to get her cousin to choose a ring from my casket, which I gave her, and she seemed glad to execute the commission. A quarter of an hour afterwards Hedvig came to shew me her hand adorned with the ring she had chosen. I kissed it rapturously, and she must have guessed from the warmth of my kisses with what feelings she had inspired me.