The Memoires of Casanova, Complete

J >> Jacques Casanova de Seingalt >> The Memoires of Casanova, Complete


I was exact to the time, and when ten o'clock struck they came to fetch
me in high glee.

"I forgot to tell you," said Helen, "that you would find a fowl there."

I felt hungry, and made short work of it, and then we gave ourselves up
to happiness.

I had to set out on my travels in two days. I had received a couple of
letters from M. Raiberti. In the first he told me that he had followed my
instructions as to the Corticelli, and in the second that she would
probably he paid for dancing at the carnival as first 'figurante'. I had
nothing to keep me at Geneva, and Madame d'Urfe, according to our
agreement, would be waiting for me at Lyons. I was therefore obliged to
go there. Thus the night that I was to pass with my two charmers would be
my last.

My lessons had taken effect, and I found they had become past mistresses
in the art of pleasure. But now and again joy gave place to sadness.

"We shall be wretched, sweetheart," said Hedvig, "and if you like we will
come with you."

"I promise to come and see you before two years have expired," said I;
and in fact they had not so long to wait.

We fell asleep at midnight, and waking at four renewed our sweet battles
till six o'clock. Half an hour after I left them, worn out with my
exertions, and I remained in bed all day. In the evening I went to see
the syndic and his young friends. I found Helen there, and she was
cunning enough to feign not to be more vexed at my departure than the
others, and to further the deception she allowed the syndic to kiss her.
I followed suit, and begged her to bid farewell for me to her learned
cousin and to excuse my taking leave of her in person.

The next day I set out in the early morning, and on the following day I
reached Lyons. Madame d'Urfe was not there, she had gone to an estate of
hers at Bresse. I found a letter in which she said that she would be
delighted to see me, and I waited on her without losing any time.

She greeted me with her ordinary cordiality, and I told her that I was
going to Turin to meet Frederic Gualdo, the head of the Fraternity of the
Rosy Cross, and I revealed to her by the oracle that he would come with
me to Marseilles, and that there he would complete her happiness. After
having received this oracle she would not go to Paris before she saw us.
The oracle also bade her wait for me at Lyons with young d'Aranda; who
begged me to take him with me to Turin. It may be imagined that I
succeeded in putting him off.

Madame d'Urfe had to wait a fortnight to get me fifty thousand francs
which I might require on my journey. In the course of this fortnight I
made the acquaintance of Madame Pernon, and spent a good deal of money
with her husband, a rich mercer, in refurnishing my wardrobe. Madame
Pernon was handsome and intelligent. She had a Milanese lover, named
Bono, who did business for a Swiss banker named Sacco. It was through
Madame Peron that Bono got Madame d'Urfe the fifty thousand francs I
required. She also gave me the three dresses which she had promised to
the Countess of Lascaris, but which that lady had never seen.

One of these dresses was furred, and was exquisitely beautiful. I left
Lyons equipped like a prince, and journeyed towards Turin, where I was to
meet the famous Gualdo, who was none other than Ascanio Pogomas, whom I
had summoned from Berne. I thought it would be easy to make the fellow
play the part I had destined for him, but I was cruelly deceived as the
reader will see.

I could not resist stopping at Chamberi to see my fair nun, whom I found
looking beautiful and contented. She was grieving, however, after the
young boarder, who had been taken from the convent and married.

I got to Turin at the beginning of December, and at Rivoli I found the
Corticelli, who had been warned by the Chevalier de Raiberti of my
arrival. She gave me a letter from this worthy gentleman, giving the
address of the house he had taken for me as I did not want to put up at
an inn. I immediately went to take possession of my new lodging.




CHAPTER XVII

My Old Friends--Pacienza--Agatha--Count Boryomeo--The Ball--
Lord Percy

The Corticelli was as gentle as a lamb, and left me as we got into Turin.
I promised I would come and see her, and immediately went to the house
the Chevalier had taken, which I found convenient in every way.

The worthy Chevalier was not long in calling on me. He gave me an account
of the moneys he had spent on the Corticelli, and handed over the rest to
me.

"I am flush of money," I said, "and I intend to invite my friends to
supper frequently. Can you lay your hands on a good cook?"

"I know a pearl amongst cooks," said he, "and you can have him directly."

"You, chevalier, are the pearl of men. Get me this wonder, tell him I am
hard to please, and agree on the sum I am to pay him per month."

The cook, who was an excellent one, came the same evening.

"It would be a good idea," said Raiberti, "to call on the Count d'Aglie.
He knows that the Corticelli is your mistress, and he has given a formal
order to Madame Pacienza, the lady with whom she lives, that when you
come and see her you are not to be left alone together."

This order amused me, and as I did not care about the Corticelli it did
not trouble me in the least, though Raiberti, who thought I was in love
with her, seemed to pity me.

"Since she has been here," he said, "her conduct has been
irreproachable."

"I am glad to hear that."

"You might let her take some lessons from the dancing-master Dupre," said
he. "He will no doubt give her something to do at the carnival."

I promised to follow his advice, and I then paid a visit to the
superintendent of police.

He received me well, complimented me on my return to Turin, and then
added with a smile:--

"I warn you that I have been informed that you keep a mistress, and that
I have given strict orders to the respectable woman with whom she lives
not to leave her alone with you."

"I am glad to hear it," I replied, "and the more as I fear her mother is
not a person of very rigid morals. I advised the Chevalier Raiberti of my
intentions with regard to her, and I am glad to see that he has carried
them out so well. I hope the girl will shew herself worthy of your
protection."

"Do you think of staying here throughout the carnival?"

"Yes, if your excellency approves."

"It depends entirely on your good conduct."

"A few peccadilloes excepted, my conduct is always above reproach."

"There are some peccadilloes we do not tolerate here. Have you seen the
Chevalier Osorio?"

"I think of calling on him to-day or to-morrow."

"I hope you will remember me to him."

He rang his bell, bowed, and the audience was over.

The Chevalier Osorio received me at his office, and gave me a most
gracious reception. After I had given him an account of my visit to the
superintendent, he asked me, with a smile, if I felt inclined to submit
with docility to not seeing my mistress in freedom.

"Certainly," said I, "for I am not in love with her."

Osorio looked at me slyly, and observed, "Somehow I don't think your
indifference will be very pleasing to the virtuous duenna."

I understood what he meant, but personally I was delighted not to be able
to see the Corticelli save in the presence of a female dragon. It would
make people talk, and I loved a little scandal, and felt curious to see
what would happen.

When I returned to my house I found the Genoese Passano, a bad poet and
worse painter, to whom I had intended to give the part of a Rosicrucian,
because there was something in his appearance which inspired, if not
respect, at least awe and a certain feeling of fear. In point of fact,
this was only a natural presentiment that the man must be either a clever
rogue or a morose and sullen scholar.

I made him sup with me and gave him a room on the third floor, telling
him not to leave it without my permission. At supper I found him insipid
in conversation, drunken, ignorant, and ill disposed, and I already
repented of having taken him under my protection; but the thing was done.

The next day, feeling curious to see how the Corticelli was lodged, I
called on her, taking with me a piece of Lyons silk.

I found her and her mother in the landlady's room, and as I came in the
latter said that she was delighted to see me and that she hoped I would
often dine with them. I thanked her briefly and spoke to the girl coolly
enough.

"Shew me your room," said I. She took me there in her mother's company.
"Here is something to make you a winter dress," said I, skewing her the
silk.

"Is this from the marchioness?"

"No, it is from me."

"But where are the three dresses she said she would give me?"

"You know very well on what conditions you were to have them, so let us
say no more about it."

She unfolded the silk which she liked very much, but she said she must
have some trimmings. The Pacienza offered her services, and said she
would send for a dressmaker who lived close by. I acquiesced with a nod,
and as soon as she had left the room the Signora Laura said she was very
sorry only to be able to receive me in the presence of the landlady.

"I should have thought," said I, "that a virtuous person like you would
have been delighted."

"I thank God for it every morning and night."

"You infernal old hypocrite!" said I, looking contemptuously at her.

"Upon my word, anybody who didn't know you would be taken in."

In a few minutes Victorine and another girl came in with their
band-boxes.

"Are you still at Madame R----'s?" said I.

"Yes sir," said she, with a blush.

When the Corticelli had chosen what she wanted I told Victorine to
present my compliments to her mistress, and tell her that I would call
and pay for the articles.

The landlady had also sent for a dressmaker, and while the Corticelli was
being measured, she shewed me her figure and said she wanted a corset. I
jested on the pregnancy with which she threatened me, and of which there
was now no trace, pitying Count N---- for being deprived of the joys of
fatherhood. I then gave her what money she required and took my leave.
She escorted me to the door, and asked me if she should have the pleasure
of seeing me again before long.

"It's a pleasure, is it?" I replied; "well, I don't know when you will
have it again; it depends on my leisure and my fancy."

It is certain that if I had any amorous feelings or even curiosity about
the girl, I should not have left her in that house for a moment; but I
repeat my love for her had entirely vanished. There was one thing,
however, which annoyed me intolerably, namely, that in spite of my
coolness towards her, the little hussy pretended to think that I had
forgotten and forgiven everything.

On leaving the Corticelli, I proceeded to call on my bankers, amongst
others on M. Martin, whose wife was justly famous for her wit and beauty.

I chanced to meet the horse-dealing Jew, who had made money out of me by
means of his daughter Leah. She was still pretty, but married; and her
figure was too rounded for my taste. She and her husband welcomed me with
great warmth, but I cared for her no longer, and did not wish to see her
again.

I called on Madame R----, who had been awaiting me impatiently ever since
Victorine had brought news of me. I sat down by the counter and had the
pleasure of hearing from her lips the amorous histories of Turin for the
past few months.

"Victorine and Caton are the only two of the old set that still remain,
but I have replaced them with others."

"Has Victorine found anyone to operate on her yet?"

"No, she is just as you left her, but a gentleman who is in love with her
is going to take her to Milan."

This gentleman was the Comte de Perouse, whose acquaintance I made three
years afterwards at Milan. I shall speak of him in due time. Madame
R---- told me that, in consequence of her getting into trouble several
times with the police, she had been obliged to promise the Count d'Aglie
only to send the girls to ladies, and, consequently, if I found any of
them to my taste I should be obliged to make friends with their relations
and take them to the festas. She shewed me the girls in the work-room,
but I did not think any of them worth taking trouble about.

She talked about the Pacienza, and when I told her that I kept the
Corticelli, and of the hard conditions to which I was obliged to submit,
she exclaimed with astonishment, and amused me by her jests on the
subject.

"You are in good hands, my dear sir," said she; "the woman is not only a
spy of d'Aglie's, but a professional procuress. I wonder the Chevalier
Raiberti placed the girl with her."

She was not so surprised when I told her that the chevalier had good
reasons for his action, and that I myself had good reasons of my own for
wishing the Corticelli to remain there.

Our conversation was interrupted by a customer who wanted silk stockings.
Hearing him speak of dancing, I asked him if he could tell me the address
of Dupre, the ballet-master.

"No one better, sir, for I am Dupre, at your service."

"I am delighted at this happy chance. The Chevalier Raiberti gave me to
understand that you might be able to give dancing lessons to a
ballet-girl of my acquaintance."

"M. de Raiberti mentioned your name to me this morning. You must be the
Chevalier de Seingalt?"

"Exactly."

"I can give the young lady lessons every morning at nine o'clock at my
own home."

"No, do you come to her house, but at whatever hour you like. I will pay
you, and I hope you will make her one of your best pupils. I must warn
you, however, that she is not a novice."

"I will call on her to-day, and to-morrow I will tell you what I can make
of her; but I think I had better tell you my terms: I charge three
Piedmontese livres a lesson."

"I think that is very reasonable; I will call on you to-morrow."

"You do me honour. Here is my address. If you like to come in the
afternoon you will see the rehearsal of a ballet."

"Is it not rehearsed at the theatre?"

"Yes, but at the theatre no on-lookers are allowed by the orders of the
superintendent of police."

"This superintendent of yours puts his finger into a good many pies."

"In too many."

"But at your own house anybody may come?"

"Undoubtedly, but I could not have the dancers there if my wife were not
present. The superintendent knows her, and has great confidence in her."

"You will see me at the rehearsal."

The wretched superintendent had erected a fearful system of surveillance
against the lovers of pleasure, but it must be confessed that he was
often cheated. Voluptuousness was all the more rampant when thus
restrained; and so it ever will be while men have passions and women
desires. To love and enjoy, to desire and to satisfy one's desires, such
is the circle in which we move, and whence we can never be turned. When
restrictions are placed upon the passions as in Turkey, they still attain
their ends, but by methods destructive to morality.

At the worthy Mazzali's I found two gentlemen to whom she introduced me.
One was old and ugly, decorated with the Order of the White Eagle--his
name was Count Borromeo; the other, young and brisk, was Count
A---- B---- of Milan. After they had gone I was informed that they were
paying assiduous court to the Chevalier Raiberti, from whom they hoped to
obtain certain privileges for their lordships which were under the
Sardinian rule.

The Milanese count had not a penny, and the Lord of the Borromean Isles
was not much better off. He had ruined himself with women, and not being
able to live at Milan he had taken refuge in the fairest of his isles,
and enjoyed there perpetual spring and very little else. I paid him a
visit on my return from Spain, but I shall relate our meeting when I come
to my adventures, my pleasures, my misfortunes, and above all my follies
there, for of such threads was the weft of my life composed, and folly
was the prominent element.

The conversation turned on my house, and the lively Mazzoli asked me how
I liked my cook. I replied that I had not yet tried him, but I proposed
to put him to test the next day, if she and the gentlemen would do me the
honour of supping with me.

The invitation was accepted, and she promised to bring her dear chevalier
with her, and to warn him of the event, as his health only allowed him to
eat once a day.

I called on Dupre in the afternoon. I saw the dancers, male and female,
the latter accompanied by their mothers, who stood on one side muffled up
in thick cloaks. As I passed them under review in my lordly manner, I
noticed that one of them still looked fresh and pretty, which augured
well for her daughter, though the fruit does not always correspond to the
tree.

Dupre introduced me to his wife, who was young and pretty, but who had
been obliged to leave the theatre owing to the weakness of her chest. She
told me that if the Corticelli would work hard her husband would make a
great dancer of her, as her figure was eminently suited for dancing.
While I was talking with Madame Dupre, the Corticelli, late Lascaris,
came running up to me with the air of a favourite, and told me she wanted
some ribbons and laces to make a bonnet. The others girls began to
whisper to each other, and guessing what they must be saying I turned to
Dupre without taking any notice of Madame Madcap, and gave him twelve
pistoles, saying that I would pay for the lessons three months in
advance, and that I hoped he would bring his new pupil on well. Such a
heavy payment in advance caused general surprise, which I enjoyed, though
pretending not to be aware of it. Now I know that I acted foolishly, but
I have promised to speak the truth in these Memoirs, which will not see
the light till all light has left my eyes, and I will keep my promise.

I have always been greedy of distinction; I have always loved to draw the
eyes of men towards men, but I must also add that if I have humiliated
anyone it has always been a proud man or a fool, for it has been my rule
to please everyone if I can.

I sat on one side, the better to observe the swarm of girls, and I soon
fixed my eyes on one whose appearance struck me. She had a fine figure,
delicate features, a noble air, and a patient look which interested me in
the highest degree. She was dancing with a man who did not scruple to
abuse her in the coarsest manner when she made any mistakes, but she bore
it without replying, though an expression of contempt mingled with the
sweetness of her face.

Instinct drew me to the mother I have remarked on, and I asked her to
whom the dancer that interested me belonged.

"I am her mother," she replied.

"You, madam! I should not have thought it possible."

"I was very young when she was born."

"I should think so. Where do you come from?"

"I am from Lucca, and what is more-a poor widow."

"How can you be poor, when you are still young and handsome, and have an
angel for a daughter?"

She replied only by an expressive glance. I understood her reserve, and I
stayed by her without speaking. Soon after, Agatha, as her daughter was
named, came up to her to ask for a handkerchief to wipe her face.

"Allow me to offer you mine," said I. It was a white handkerchief, and
scented with attar of roses; this latter circumstance gave her an excuse
for accepting it, but after smelling it she wanted to return it to me.

"You have not used it," said I! "do so."

She obeyed, and then returned it to me with a bow by way of thanks.

"You must not give it me back, fair Agatha, till you have had it washed."

She smiled, and gave it to her mother, glancing at me in a grateful
manner, which I considered of good omen.

"May I have the pleasure of calling on you?" said I. "I cannot receive
you, sir, except in the presence of my landlady."

"This cursed restriction is general in Turin, then?"

"Yes, the superintendent uses everybody in the same way."

"Then I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again here?"

In the evening I had one of the best suppers I ever had in my life, if I
except those I enjoyed during my stay at Turin. My cook was worthy of a
place in the kitchen of Lucullus; but without detracting from his skill I
must do justice to the products of the country. Everything is delicious;
game, fish, birds, meat, vegetables, fruit, milk, and truffles--all are
worthy of the table of the greatest gourmets, and the wines of the
country yield to none. What a pity that strangers do not enjoy liberty at
Turin! It is true that better society, and more politeness, such as are
found in several French and Italian towns, are to be wished for.

The beauty of the women of Turin is no doubt due to the excellence of the
air and diet.

I had not much trouble in extracting a promise from Madame Mazzoli and
the two counts to sup with me every night, but the Chevalier de Raiberti
would only promise to come whenever he could.

At the Carignan Theatre, where opera-bouffe was being played, I saw
Redegonde, with whom I had failed at Florence. She saw me in the pit and
gave me a smile, so I wrote to her, offering my services if the mother
had changed her way of thinking. She answered that her mother was always
the same, but that if I would ask the Corticelli she could come and sup
with me, though the mother would doubtless have to be of the party. I
gave her no answer, as the terms she named were by no means to my taste.

I had a letter from Madame du Rumain, enclosing one from M. de Choiseul
to M. de Chauvelin, the French ambassador at Turin. It will be remembered
that I had known this worthy nobleman at Soleure, and had been treated
with great politeness by him, but I wished to have a more perfect title
to his acquaintance; hence I asked Madame du Rumain to give me a letter.

M. de Chauvelin received me with the greatest cordiality; and reproaching
me for having thought a letter of introduction necessary, introduced me
to his charming wife, who was no less kind than her husband. Three or
four days later he asked me to dine with him, and I met at his table M.
Imberti, the Venetian ambassador, who said he was very sorry not to be
able to present me at Court. On hearing the reason M. de Chauvelin
offered to present me himself, but I thought it best to decline with
thanks. No doubt it would have been a great honour, but the result would
be that I should be more spied on than even in this town of spies, where
the most indifferent actions do not pass unnoticed. My pleasures would
have been interfered with.

Count Borromeo continued to honour me by coming every night to sup with
me, preserving his dignity the while, for as he accompanied Madame
Mazzoli it was not to be supposed that he came because he was in need of
a meal. Count A---- B---- came more frankly, and I was pleased with him. He
told me one day that the way I put up with his visits made him extremely
grateful to Providence, for his wife could not send him any money, and he
could not afford to pay for his dinner at the inn, so that if it were not
for my kindness he would often be obliged to go hungry to bed. He shewed
me his wife's letters; he had evidently a high opinion of her. "I hope,"
he would say, "that you will come and stay with us at Milan, and that she
will please you."

He had been in the service of Spain, and by what he said I judged his
wife to be a pleasing brunette of twenty-five or twenty-six. The count
had told her how I had lent him money several times, and of my goodness
to him, and she replied, begging him to express her gratitude to me, and
to make me promise to stay with them at Milan. She wrote wittily, and her
letters interested me to such an extent that I gave a formal promise to
journey to Milan, if it were only for the sake of seeing her.

I confess that in doing so I was overcome by my feelings of curiosity. I
knew they were poor, and I should not have given a promise which would
either bring them into difficulties or expose me to paying too dearly for
my lodging. However, by way of excuse, I can only say that curiosity is
near akin to love. I fancied the countess sensible like an Englishwoman,
passionate like a Spaniard, caressing like a Frenchwoman, and as I had a
good enough opinion of my own merit, I did not doubt for a moment that
she would respond to my affection. With these pleasant delusions in my
head, I counted on exciting the jealousy of all the ladies and gentlemen
of Milan. I had plenty of money, and I longed for an opportunity of
spending it.

Nevertheless, I went every day to rehearsal at Dupre's, and I soon got
madly in love with Agatha. Madame Dupre won over by several presents I
made her, received my confidences with kindness, and by asking Agatha and
her mother to dinner procured me the pleasure of a more private meeting
with my charmer. I profited by the opportunity to make known my feelings,
and I obtained some slight favours, but so slight were they that my flame
only grew the fiercer.

Agatha kept on telling me that everybody knew that the Corticelli was my
mistress, and that for all the gold in the world she would not have it
said that she was my last shift, as I could not see the Corticelli in
private. I swore to her that I did not love the Corticelli, and that I
only kept her to prevent M. Raiberti being compromised; but all this was
of no avail, she had formed her plans, and nothing would content her but
a formal rupture which would give all Turin to understand that I loved
her and her alone. On these conditions she promised me her heart, and
everything which follows in such cases.