The Eternal Quest: Return to Paris

J >> Jacques Casanova de Seingalt >> The Eternal Quest: Return to Paris

MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798

THE ETERNAL QUEST, Volume 3b--RETURN TO PARIS

THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR MACHEN TO
WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED BY ARTHUR SYMONS.
THE ETERNAL QUEST
RETURN TO PARIS




CHAPTER V

My Fortune in Holland--My Return to Paris with Young Pompeati

Amongst the letters which were waiting for me was one from the
comptroller-general, which advised me that twenty millions in Government
securities had been placed in the hands of M. d'Afri, who was not to go
beyond a loss of eight per cent.; and another letter from my good patron,
M. de Bernis, telling me to do the best I could, and to be assured that
the ambassador would be instructed to consent to whatever bargain might
be made, provided the rate was not more disadvantageous than that of the
exchange at Paris. Boaz, who was astonished at the bargain I had made
with my shares, wanted to discount the Government securities for me, and
I should very likely have agreed to his terms if he had not required me
to give him three months, and the promise that the agreement should hold
even in the case of peace being concluded in the meanwhile. It was not
long before I saw that I should do well to get back to Amsterdam, but I
did not care to break my word to Therese, whom I had promised to meet at
the Hague. I received a letter from her while I was at the play, and the
servant who brought it told me he was waiting to conduct me to her. I
sent my own servant home, and set out on my quest.

My guide made me climb to the fourth floor of a somewhat wretched house,
and there I found this strange woman in a small room, attended by her son
and daughter. The table stood in the midst of the room, and was covered
with a black cloth, and the two candles standing upon it made it look
like some sort of sepulchral altar. The Hague was a Court town. I was
richly dressed; my elaborate attire made the saddest possible contrast
with the gloom of my surroundings. Therese, dressed in black and seated
between her children at that black table, reminded me of Medea. To see
these two fair young creatures vowed to a lot of misery and disgrace was
a sad and touching sight. I took the boy between my arms, and pressing
him to my breast called him my son. His mother told him to look upon me
as his father from henceforth. The lad recognized me; he remembered, much
to my delight, seeing me in the May of 1753, in Venice, at Madame
Manzoni's. He was slight but strong; his limbs were well proportioned,
and his features intellectual. He was thirteen years old.

His sister sat perfectly still, apparently waiting for her turn to come.
I took her on my knee, and as I embraced her, nature herself seemed to
tell me that she was my daughter. She took my kisses in silence, but it
was easy to see that she thought herself preferred to her brother, and
was charmed with the idea. All her clothing was a slight frock, and I was
able to feel every limb and to kiss her pretty little body all over,
delighted that so sweet a being owed her existence to me.

"Mamma, dear," said she, "is not this fine gentleman the same we saw at
Amsterdam, and who was taken for my papa because I am like him? But that
cannot be, for my papa is dead."

"So he is, sweetheart; but I may be your dear friend, mayn't I? Would you
like to have me for a friend?"

"Yes, yes!" she cried, and throwing her arms about my neck gave me a
thousand kisses, which I returned with delight.

After we had talked and laughed together we sat down at table, and the
heroine Therese gave me a delicate supper accompanied by exquisite wines.
"I have never given the margrave better fare," said she, "at those nice
little suppers we used to take together."

Wishing to probe the disposition of her son, whom I had engaged to take
away with me, I addressed several remarks to him, and soon discovered
that he was of a false and deceitful nature, always on his guard, taking
care of what he said, and consequently speaking only from his head and
not from his heart. Every word was delivered with a quiet politeness
which, no doubt, was intended to please me.

I told him that this sort of thing was all very well on occasion; but
that there were times when a man's happiness depended on his freedom from
constraint; then and only then was his amiability, if he had any,
displayed. His mother, thinking to praise him, told me that reserve was
his chief characteristic, that she had trained him to keep his counsel at
all times and places, and that she was thus used to his being reserved
with her as with everyone else.

"All I can say is," said I, "your system is an abominable one. You may
have strangled in their infancy all the finer qualities with which nature
has endowed your son, and have fairly set him on the way to become a
monster instead of an angel. I don't see how the most devoted father can
possibly have any affection for a son who keeps all his emotions under
lock and key."

This outburst, which proceeded from the tenderness I would fain have felt
for the boy, seemed to strike his mother dumb.

"Tell me, my dear, if you feel yourself capable of shewing me that
confidence which a father has a right to expect of a good son, and if you
can promise to be perfectly open and unreserved towards me?"

"I promise that I will die rather than tell you a falsehood."

"That's just like him," said the mother. "I have succeeded in inspiring
him with the utmost horror of untruthfulness."

"That's all very well, my dear madam, but you might have pursued a still
better course, and one which would have been still more conducive to his
happiness."

"What is that?"

"I will tell you. It was necessary to make him detest a lie; you should
have rather endeavoured to make him a lover of the truth by displaying it
to him in all its native beauty. This is the only way to make him
lovable, and love is the sole bestower of happiness in this world."

"But isn't it the same thing not to lie and to tell the truth," said the
boy, with a smile which charmed his mother and displeased me.

"Certainly not; there is a great difference--for to avoid lying you have
only to hold your tongue; and do you think that comes to the same thing
as speaking the truth? You must open your mind to me, my son, and tell
me all your thoughts, even if you blush in the recital. I will teach you
how to blush, and soon you will have nothing to fear in laying open all
your thoughts and deeds. When we know each other a little longer we shall
see how we agree together. You must understand that I cannot look upon
you as my son until I see cause to love you, and I cannot have you call
me father till you treat me as the best friend you have. You may be quite
sure that I shall find a way to discover your thoughts, however cleverly
you try to hide them. If I find you deceitful and suspicious I shall
certainly entertain no regard for you. As soon as I have finished my
business at Amsterdam we will set out for Paris. I am leaving the Hague
to-morrow, and on my return I hope to find you instructed by your mother
in a system of morality more consonant with my views, and more likely to
lead to your happiness."

On glancing at my little daughter, who had been listening to me with the
greatest attention, I saw that her eyes were swimming with tears, which
she could hardly retain.

"Why are you crying?" said the mother; "it is silly to cry." And with
that the child ran to her mother and threw her arms round her neck.

"Would you like to come to Paris, too?" said I to her.

"Oh, yes! But mamma must come too, as she would die without me."

"What would you do if I told you to go?" said the mother.

"I would obey you, mamma, but how could I exist away from you?"

Thereupon my little daughter pretended to cry. I say pretended, as it was
quite evident that the child did not mean what she said, and I am sure
that her mother knew it as well as I.

It was really a melancholy thing to see the effects of a bad education on
this young child, to whom nature had given intelligence and feeling. I
took the mother on one side, and said that if she had intended to make
actors of her children she had succeeded to admiration; but if she wished
them to become useful members of society her system had failed
lamentably, as they were in a fair way to become monsters of deceit. I
continued making her the most pointed remonstrances until, in spite of
her efforts to control herself, she burst into tears. However, she soon
recovered her composure, and begged me to stay at the Hague a day longer,
but I told her it was out of the question, and left the room. I came in
again a few minutes after, and Sophie came up to me and said, in a loving
little voice,

"If you are really my friend, you will give me some proof of your
friendship."

"And what proof do you want, my dear?"

"I want you to come and sup with me to-morrow."

"I can't, Sophie dear, for I have just said no to your mother, and she
would be offended if I granted you what I had refused her."

"Oh, no! she wouldn't; it was she who told me to ask you just now."

I naturally began to laugh, but on her mother calling the girl a little
fool, and the brother adding that he had never committed such an
indiscretion, the poor child began to tremble all over, and looked
abashed. I reassured her as best I could, not caring whether what I said
displeased her mother or not, and I endeavoured to instill into her
principles of a very different nature to those in which she had been
reared, while she listened with an eagerness which proved that her heart
was still ready to learn the right way. Little by little her face
cleared, and I saw that I had made an impression, and though I could not
flatter myself that any good I might do her would be lasting in its
effects as long as she remained under the bad influence of her mother, I
promised to come and sup with her next evening, "but on the condition," I
said, "that you give me a plain meal, and one bottle of chambertin only,
for you are not too well off."

"I know that, but mamma says that you pay for everything."

This reply made me go off into a roar of laughter; and in spite of her
vexation the mother was obliged to follow my example. The poor woman,
hardened by the life she led, took the child's simplicity for stupidity,
but I saw in her a rough diamond which only wanted polishing.

Therese told me that the wine did not cost her anything, as the son of
the Rotterdam burgomaster furnished her with it, and that he would sup
with us the next day if I would allow him to be present. I answered
smilingly that I should be delighted to see him, and I went away after
giving my daughter, of whom I felt fond, a tender embrace. I would have
done anything to be entrusted with her, but I saw it would be no good
trying to get possession of her, as the mother was evidently keeping her
as a resource for her old age. This is a common way for adventuresses to
look upon their daughters, and Therese was an adventuress in the widest
acceptation of the term. I gave her twenty ducats to get clothes for my
adopted son and Sophie, who, with spontaneous gratitude, and her eyes
filled with tears, came and gave me a kiss. Joseph was going to kiss my
hand, but I told him that it was degrading for one man to kiss another's
hand, and that for the future he was to shew his gratitude by embracing
me as a son embraces his father.

Just as I was leaving, Therese took me to the closet where the two
children were sleeping. I knew what she was thinking of; but all that was
over long ago; I could think of no one but Esther.

The next day I found the burgomaster's son at my actress's house. He was
a fine young fellow of twenty or twenty-one, but totally devoid of
manner. He was Therese's lover, but he should have regulated his
behaviour in my presence. Therese, seeing that he was posing as master of
the field, and that his manners disgusted me, began to snub him, much to
his displeasure, and after sneering at the poorness of the dishes, and
praising the wine which he had supplied, he went out leaving us to finish
our dessert by ourselves. I left myself at eleven, telling Therese that I
should see her again before I went away. The Princesse de Galitzin, a
Cantimir by birth, had asked me to dinner, and this made me lose another
day.

Next day I heard from Madame d'Urfe, who enclosed a bill of exchange on
Boaz for twelve thousand francs. She said that she had bought her shares
for sixty thousand, that she did not wish to make anything of them, and
that she hoped I would accept the overplus as my broker's fee. She worded
her offer with too much courtesy for me to refuse it. The remainder of
the letter was devoted to the wildest fancies. She said that her genius
had revealed to her that I should bring back to Paris a boy born of the
Mystical Marriage, and she hoped I would take pity on her. It was a
strange coincidence, and seemed likely to attach the woman still more
closely to her visionary theories. I laughed when I though how she would
be impressed by Therese's son, who was certainly not born of the Mystical
Marriage.

Boaz paid me my twelve thousand francs in ducats, and I made him my
friend, as he thanked me for receiving the moneys in ducats, and he
doubtless made a profit on the transaction, gold being a commodity in
Holland, and all payments being made in silver or paper money.

At that time gold was at a low rate, and nobody would take ducats.

After having an excellent dinner with the Princesse de Galitzin, I put on
my cloak and went to the cafe. I found there the burgomaster's son, who
was just beginning a game of billiards. He whispered to me that I might
back him with advantage, and thinking he was sure of his stroke I thanked
him and followed his advice. However, after losing three games one after
the other, I took his measure and began to lay against him without his
knowledge. After playing for three hours and losing all the time, he
stopped play and came to condole with me on my heavy loss. It is
impossible to describe his amazed expression when I shewed him a handful
of ducats, and assured him that I had spent a very profitable evening in
laying against him. Everybody in the room began to laugh at him, but he
was the sort of young man who doesn't understand a joke, and he went out
in a rage. Soon after I left the billiard-room myself, and, according to
my promise went to see Therese, as I was leaving for Amsterdam the next
day.

Therese was waiting for her young wine merchant, but on my recounting his
adventures she expected him no longer. I took my little daughter on my
knee and lavished my caresses on her, and so left them, telling them that
we should see each other again in the course of three weeks or a month at
latest.

As I was going home in the moonlight by myself, my sword under my arm, I
was encountered all of a sudden by the poor dupe of a burgomaster's son.

"I want to know," said he, "if your sword has as sharp a point as your
tongue."

I tried to quiet him by speaking common sense, and I kept my sword
wrapped in my cloak, though his was bared and directed against me.

"You are wrong to take my jests in such bad part," said I; "however, I
apologize to you."

"No apologies; look to yourself."

"Wait till to-morrow, you will be cooler then, but if you still wish it I
will give you satisfaction in the midst of the billiard-room."

"The only satisfaction you can give me is to fight; I want to kill you."

As evidence of his determination, and to provoke me beyond recall, he
struck me with the flat of his sword, the first and last time in my life
in which I have received such and insult. I drew my sword, but still
hoping to bring him to his senses I kept strictly on the defensive and
endeavoured to make him leave off. This conduct the Dutchman mistook for
fear, and pushed hard on me, lunging in a manner that made me look to
myself. His sword passed through my necktie; a quarter of an inch farther
in would have done my business.

I leapt to one side, and, my danger no longer admitting of my fighting on
the defensive, I lunged out and wounded him in the chest. I thought this
would have been enough for him, so I proposed we should terminate our
engagement.

"I'm not dead yet," said he; "I want to kill you."

This was his watchword; and, as he leapt on me in a paroxysm of rage,
more like a madman than a sensible being, I hit him four times. At the
fourth wound he stepped back, and, saying he had had enough, begged me to
leave him.

I went off as fast as I could, and was very glad to see from the look of
my sword that his wounds were slight. I found Boaz still up, and on
hearing what had taken place he advised me to go to Amsterdam at once,
though I assured him that the wounds were not mortal. I gave in to his
advice, and as my carriage was at the saddler's he lent me his, and I set
out, bidding my servant to come on the next day with my luggage, and to
rejoin me at the "Old Bible," in Amsterdam. I reached Amsterdam at noon
and my man arrived in the evening.

I was curious to hear if my duel had made any noise, but as my servant
had left at an early hour he had heard nothing about it. Fortunately for
me nothing whatever was known about it at Amsterdam for a week after;
otherwise, things might not have gone well with me, as the reputation of
being a duellist is not a recommendation to financiers with whom one is
about to transact business of importance.

The reader will not be surprised when I tell him that my first call was
on M. d'O, or rather on his charming daughter Esther, for she it was on
whom I waited. It will be remembered that the way in which we parted did
a good deal towards augmenting the warmth of my affection for her. On
entering the room I found Esther writing at a table.

"What are you doing Esther, dear?"

"An arithmetical problem."

"Do you like problems?"

"I am passionately fond of anything which contains difficulties and
offers curious results."

"I will give you something which will please you."

I made her, by way of jest, two magic squares, which delighted her. In
return, she spewed me some trifles with which I was well acquainted, but
which I pretended to think very astonishing. My good genius then inspired
me with the idea of trying divination by the cabala. I told her to ask a
question in writing, and assured her that by a certain kind of
calculation a satisfactory answer would be obtained. She smiled, and
asked why I had returned to Amsterdam so soon. I shewed her how to make
the pyramid with the proper numbers and the other ceremonies, then I made
her extract the answer in numbers, translating it into French, and
greatly was she surprised to find that the cause which had made me return
to Amsterdam so soon was--love.

Quite confounded, she said it was very wonderful, even though the answer
might not be true, and she wished to know what masters could teach this
mode of calculation.

"Those who know it cannot teach it to anyone."

"How did you learn it, then?"

"From a precious manuscript I inherited from my father."

"Sell it me."

"I have burnt it; and I am not empowered to communicate the secret to
anyone before I reach the age of fifty."

"Why fifty?"

"I don't know; but I do know that if I communicated it to anyone before
that age I should run the risk of losing it myself. The elementary spirit
who is attached to the oracle would leave it."

"How do you know that?"

"I saw it so stated in the manuscript I have spoken of."

"Then you are able to discover all secrets?"

"Yes, or I should be if the replies were not sometimes too obscure to be
understood."

"As it does not take much time, will you be kind enough to get me an
answer to another question?"

"With pleasure; you can command me in anything not forbidden by my
familiar spirit."

She asked what her destiny would be, and the oracle replied that she had
not yet taken the first step towards it. Esther was astonished and called
her governess to see the two answers, but the good woman saw nothing
wonderful in them whatever. Esther impatiently called her a blockhead,
and entreated me to let her ask another question. I begged her to do so,
and she asked,

"Who loves me most in Amsterdam?" The oracle replied that no one loved
her as well as he who had given her being: Poor Esther then told me that
I had made her miserable, and that she would die of grief if she could
not succeed in learning the method of calculation. I gave no answer, and
pretended to feel sad at heart. She began to write down another question,
putting her hand in front so as to screen the paper. I rose as if to get
out of her way, but while she was arranging the pyramid I cast my eyes on
the paper whilst walking up and down the room, and read her question.
After she had gone as far as I had taught her, she asked me to extract
the answer, saying that I could do so without reading the question. I
agreed to do so on the condition that she would not ask a second time.

As I had seen her question, it was easy for me to answer it. She had
asked the oracle if she might shew the questions she had propounded to
her father, and the answer was that she would be happy as long as she had
no secrets from her father.

When she read these words she gave a cry of surprise, and could find no
words wherewith to express her gratitude to me. I left her for the
Exchange, where I had a long business conversation with M. Pels.

Next morning a handsome and gentlemanly man came with a letter of
introduction from Therese, who told me that he would be useful in case I
wanted any assistance in business. His name was Rigerboos. She informed
me that the burgomaster's son was only slightly wounded, and that I had
nothing to fear as the matter was not generally known, and that if I had
business at the Hague I might return there in perfect safety. She said
that my little Sophie talked of me all day, and that I should find my son
much improved on my return. I asked M. Rigerboos to give me his address,
assuring him that at the proper time I should rely on his services.

A moment after Rigerboos had gone, I got a short note from Esther, who
begged me, in her father's name, to spend the day with her--at least, if
I had no important engagement. I answered that, excepting a certain
matter of which her father knew, I had no chiefer aim than to convince
her that I desired a place in her heart, and that she might be quite sure
that I would not refuse her invitation.

I went to M. d'O---- at dinner time. I found Esther and her father
puzzling over the method which drew reasonable answers out of a pyramid
of numbers. As soon as her father saw me, he embraced me, saying how
happy he was to possess a daughter capable of attracting me.

"She will attract any man who has sufficient sense to appreciate her."

"You appreciate her, then?"

"I worship her."

"Then embrace her."

Esther opened her arms, and with a cry of delight threw them round my
neck, and gave the back all my caresses, kiss for kiss.

"I have got through all my business," said M. d'O----, "and the rest of
my day is at your disposal. I have known from my childhood that there is
such a science as the one you profess, and I was acquainted with a Jew
who by its aid made an immense fortune. He, like you, said that, under
pain of losing the secret, it could only be communicated to one person,
but he put off doing so so long that at last it was too late, for a high
fever carried him off in a few days. I hope you will not do as the Jew
did; but in the meanwhile allow me to say that if You do not draw a
profit from this treasure, you do not know what it really is."

"You call this knowledge of mine a treasure, and yet you possess one far
more excellent," looking at Esther as I spoke.

"We will discuss that again. Yes, sir, I call your science a treasure."

"But the answers of the oracle are often very obscure."

"Obscure! The answers my daughter received are as clear as day."

"Apparently, she is fortunate in the way she frames her questions; for on
this the reply depends."

"After dinner we will try if I am so fortunate--at least, if you will be
so kind as to help me."

"I can refuse you nothing, as I consider father and daughter as one
being."

At table we discussed other subjects, as the chief clerks were
present--notably the manager, a vulgar-looking fellow, who had very
evident aspirations in the direction of my fair Esther. After dinner we
went into M. d'O 's private closet, and thereupon he drew two long
questions out of his pocket. In the first he desired to know how to
obtain a favourable decision from the States-General in an important
matter, the details of which he explained. I replied in terms, the
obscurity of which would have done credit to a professed Pythoness, and I
left Esther to translate the answer into common sense, and find a meaning
in it.

With regard to the second answer I acted in a different manner; I was
impelled to answer clearly, and did so. M. d'O asked what had become of a
vessel belonging to the India Company of which nothing had been heard. It
was known to have started on the return voyage, and should have arrived
two months ago, and this delay gave rise to the supposition that it had
gone down. M. d'O---- wished to know if it were still above water, or
whether it were lost, etc. As no tidings of it had come to hand, the
company were on the look-out for someone to insure it, and offered ten
per cent., but nobody cared to run so great a risk, especially as a
letter had been received from an English sea captain who said he had seen
her sink.