The Memoires of Casanova, Complete

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


"You must have been amused at that."

"Yes, it did make me laugh, because I did not know that a priest could
get married; and he excited my curiosity by telling me that they managed
it at Geneva. Curiosity and wantonness made me escape with him; you know
the rest."

Thus did Marcoline amuse me during the evening, and then we went to bed
and slept quietly till the morning. We started from Valence at five, and
in the evening we were set down at the "Hotel du Parc" at Lyons.

As soon as I was settled in the pleasant apartments allotted to me I went
to Madame d'Urfe, who was staying in the Place Bellecour, and said, as
usual, that she was sure I was coming on that day. She wanted to know if
she had performed the ceremonies correctly, and Paralis, of course,
informed her that she had, whereat she was much flattered. The young
Aranda was with her, and after I had kissed him affectionately I told the
marchioness that I would be with her at ten o'clock the next morning, and
so I left her.

I kept the appointment and we spent the whole of the day in close
conference, asking of the oracle concerning her being brought to bed, how
she was to make her will, and how she should contrive to escape poverty
in her regenerated shape. The oracle told her that she must go to Paris
for her lying-in, and leave all her possessions to her son, who would not
be a bastard, as Paralis promised that as soon as I got to London an
English gentleman should be sent over to marry her. Finally, the oracle
ordered her to prepare to start in three days, and to take Aranda with
her. I had to take the latter to London and return him to his mother, for
his real position in life was no longer a mystery, the little rascal
having confessed all; however, I had found a remedy for his indiscretion
as for the treachery of the Corticelli and Possano.

I longed to return him to the keeping of his mother, who constantly wrote
me impertinent letters. I also wished to take my daughter, who, according
to her mother, had become a prodigy of grace and beauty.

After the oracular business had been settled, I returned to the "Hotel du
Parc" to dine with Marcoline. It was very late, and as I could not take
my sweetheart to the play I called on M. Bono to enquire whether he had
sent my brother to Paris. He told me that he had gone the day before, and
that my great enemy, Possano, was still in Lyons, and that I would do
well to be on my guard as far as he was concerned.

"I have seen him," said Bono; "he looks pale and undone, and seems
scarcely able to stand. 'I shall die before long,' said he, 'for that
scoundrel Casanova has had me poisoned; but I will make him pay dearly
for his crime, and in this very town of Lyons, where I know he will come,
sooner or later.'

"In fact, in the course of half an hour, he made some terrible
accusations against you, speaking as if he were in a fury. He wants all
the world to know that you are the greatest villain unhung, that you are
ruining Madame d'Urfe with your impious lies; that you are a sorcerer, a
forger, an utter of false moneys, a poisoner--in short, the worst of men.
He does not intend to publish a libellous pamphlet upon you, but to
accuse you before the courts, alleging that he wants reparation for the
wrongs you have done his person, his honour, and his life, for he says
you are killing him by a slow poison. He adds that for every article he
possesses the strongest proof.

"I will say nothing about the vague abuse he adds to these formal
accusations, but I have felt it my duty to warn you of his treacherous
designs that you may be able to defeat them. It's no good saying he is a
miserable wretch, and that you despise him; you know how strong a thing
calumny is."

"Where does the fellow live?"

"I don't know in the least."

"How can I find out?"

"I can't say, for if he is hiding himself on purpose it would be hard to
get at him."

"Nevertheless, Lyons is not so vast a place."

"Lyons is a perfect maze, and there is no better hiding-place, especially
to a man with money, and Possano has money."

"But what can he do to me?"

"He can institute proceedings against you in the criminal court, which
would cause you immense anxiety and bring down your good name to the
dust, even though you be the most innocent, the most just of men."

"It seems to me, then, that the best thing I can do will be to be first
in the field."

"So I think, but even then you cannot avoid publicity."

"Tell me frankly if you feel disposed to bear witness to what the rascal
has said in a court of justice."

"I will tell all I know with perfect truth."

"Be kind enough to tell me of a good advocate."

"I will give you the address of one of the best; but reflect before you
do anything. The affair will make a noise."

"As I don't know where he lives, I have really no choice in the matter."

If I had known where he lived I could have had Possano expelled from
Lyons through the influence of Madame d'Urfe, whose relative, M. de la
Rochebaron, was the governor; but as it was, I had no other course than
the one I took.

Although Possano was a liar and an ungrateful, treacherous hound, yet I
could not help being uneasy. I went to my hotel, and proceeded to ask for
police protection against a man in hiding in Lyons, who had designs
against my life and honour.

The next day M. Bono came to dissuade me from the course I had taken.

"For," said he, "the police will begin to search for him, and as soon as
he hears of it he will take proceedings against you in the criminal
courts, and then your positions will be changed. It seems to me that if
you have no important business at Lyons you had better hasten your
departure."

"Do you think I would do such a thing for a miserable fellow like
Possano? No! I would despise myself if I did. I would die rather than
hasten my departure on account of a rascal whom I loaded with kindnesses,
despite his unworthiness! I would give a hundred louis to know where he
is now."

"I am delighted to say that I do not know anything about it, for if I did
I would tell you, and then God knows what would happen! You won't go any
sooner; well, then, begin proceedings, and I will give my evidence by
word of mouth or writing whenever you please."

I went to the advocate whom M. Bono had recommended to me, and told him
my business. When he heard what I wanted he said,----

"I can do nothing for you, sir, as I have undertaken the case of your
opponent. You need not be alarmed, however, at having spoken to me, for I
assure you that I will make no use whatever of the information. Possano's
plea or accusation will not be drawn up till the day after to-morrow, but
I will not tell him to make baste for fear of your anticipating him, as I
have only been informed of your intentions by hazard. However, you will
find plenty of advocates at Lyons as honest as I am, and more skilled."

"Could you give me the name of one?"

"That would not be etiquette, but M. Bono, who seems to have kindly
spoken of me with some esteem, will be able to serve you."

"Can you tell me where your client lives?"

"Since his chief aim is to remain hidden, and with good cause, you will
see that I could not think of doing such a thing."

In bidding him farewell I put a louis on the table, and though I did it
with the utmost delicacy he ran after me and made me take it back.

"For once in a way," I said to myself, "here's an honest advocate."

As I walked along I thought of putting a spy on Possano and finding out
his abode, for I felt a strong desire to have him beaten to death; but
where was I to find a spy in a town of which I knew nothing? M. Bono gave
me the name of another advocate, and advised me to make haste.

"'Tis in criminal matters," said he, "and in such cases the first comer
always has the advantage."

I asked him to find me a trusty fellow to track out the rascally Possano,
but the worthy man would not hear of it. He shewed me that it would be
dishonourable to set a spy on the actions of Possano's advocate. I knew
it myself; but what man is there who has not yielded to the voice of
vengeance, the most violent and least reasonable of all the passions.

I went to the second advocate, whom I found to be a man venerable not
only in years but in wisdom. I told him all the circumstances of the
affair, which he agreed to take up, saying he would present my plea in
the course of the day.

"That's just what I want you to do," said I, "for his own advocate told
me that his pleas would be presented the day after to-morrow."

"That, sir," said her "would not induce me to act with any greater
promptness, as I could not consent to your abusing the confidence of my
colleague."

"But there is nothing dishonourable in making use of information which
one has acquired by chance."

"That may be a tenable position in some cases, but in the present
instance the nature of the affair justifies prompt action. 'Prior in
tempore, Potior in jure'. Prudence bids us attack our enemy. Be so kind,
if you please, to call here at three o'clock in the afternoon."

"I will not fail to do so, and in the meanwhile here are six louis."

"I will keep account of my expenditure on your behalf."

"I want you not to spare money."

"Sir, I shall spend only what is absolutely necessary."

I almost believed that probity had chosen a home for herself amongst the
Lyons advocates, and here I may say, to the honour of the French bar,
that I have never known a more honest body of men than the advocates of
France.

At three o'clock, having seen that the plan was properly drawn up, I went
to Madame d'Urfe's, and for four hours I worked the oracle in a manner
that filled her with delight, and in spite of my vexation I could not
help laughing at her insane fancies on the subject of her pregnancy. She
was certain of it; she felt all the symptoms. Then she said how sorry she
felt that she would not be alive to laugh at all the hypotheses of the
Paris doctors as to her being delivered of a child, which would be
thought very extraordinary in a woman of her age.

When I got back to the inn I found Marcoline very melancholy. She said
she had been waiting for me to take her to the play, according to my
promise, and that I should not have made her wait in vain.

"You are right, dearest, but an affair of importance has kept me with the
marchioness. Don't be put out."

I had need of some such advice myself, for the legal affair worried me,
and I slept very ill. Early the next morning I saw my counsel, who told
me that my plea had been laid before the criminal lieutenant.

"For the present," said he, "there is nothing more to be done, for as we
don't know where he is we can't cite him to appear."

"Could I not set the police on his track?"

"You might, but I don't advise you to do so. Let us consider what the
result would be. The accuser finding himself accused would have to defend
himself and prove the accusation he has made against you. But in the
present state of things, if he does not put in an appearance we will get
judgment against him for contempt of court and also for libel. Even his
counsel will leave him in the lurch if he persistently refuses to shew
himself."

This quieted my fears a little, and I spent the rest of the day with
Madame d'Urfe, who was going to Paris on the morrow. I promised to be
with her as soon as I had dealt with certain matters which concerned the
honour of the Fraternity R. C..

Her great maxim was always to respect my secrets, and never to trouble me
with her curiosity. Marcoline, who had been pining by herself all day,
breathed again when I told her that henceforth I should be all for her.

In the morning M. Bono came to me and begged me to go with him to
Possano's counsel, who wanted to speak to me. The advocate said that his
client was a sort of madman who was ready to do anything, as he believed
himself to be dying from the effects of a slow poison.

"He says that even if you are first in the field he will have you
condemned to death. He says he doesn't care if he is sent to prison, as
he is certain of coming out in triumph as he has the proof of all his
accusations. He shews twenty-five louis which you gave him, all of which
are clipped, and he exhibits documents dated from Genoa stating that you
clipped a number of gold pieces, which were melted by M. Grimaldi in
order that the police might not find them in your possession. He has even
a letter from your brother, the abbe, deposing against you. He is a
madman, a victim to syphilis, who wishes to send you to the other world
before himself, if he can. Now my advice to you is to give him some money
and get rid of him. He tells me that he is the father of a family, and
that if M. Bono would give him a thousand louis he would sacrifice
vengeance to necessity. He told me to speak to M. Bono about it; and now,
sir what do you say?"

"That which my just indignation inspires me to say regarding a rascal
whom I rescued from poverty, and who nevertheless pursues me with
atrocious calumnies; he shall not have one single farthing of mine."

I then told the Genoa story, putting things in their true light, and
adding that I could call M. Grimaldi as a witness if necessary.

"I have delayed presenting the plea," said the counsel, "to see if the
scandal could be hushed up in any way, but I warn you that I shall now
present it."

"Do so; I shall be greatly obliged to you."

I immediately called on my advocate, and told him of the rascal's
proposal; and he said I was quite right to refuse to have any dealings
with such a fellow. He added that as I had M. Bono as a witness I ought
to make Possano's advocate present his plea, and I authorized him to take
proceedings in my name.

A clerk was immediately sent to the criminal lieutenant, praying him to
command the advocate to bring before him, in three days, the plea of one
Anami, alias Pogomas, alias Possano, the said plea being against Jacques
Casanova, commonly called the Chevalier de Seingalt. This document, to
which I affixed my signature, was laid before the criminal lieutenant.

I did not care for the three days' delay, but my counsel told me it was
always given, and that I must make up my mind to submit to all the
vexation I should be obliged to undergo, even if we were wholly
successful.

As Madame d'Urfe had taken her departure in conformity with the orders of
Paralis, I dined with Marcoline at the inn, and tried to raise my spirits
by all the means in my power. I took my mistress to the best milliners
and dressmakers in the town, and bought her everything she took a fancy
to; and then we went to the theatre, where she must have been pleased to
see all eyes fixed on her. Madame Pernon, who was in the next box to
ours, made me introduce Marcoline to her; and from the way they embraced
each other when the play was over I saw they were likely to become
intimate, the only obstacle to their friendship being that Madame Pernon
did not know a word of Italian, and that Marcoline did not dare to speak
a word of French for fear of making herself ridiculous. When we got back
to the inn, Marcoline told me that her new friend had given her the
Florentine kiss: this is the shibboleth of the sect.

The pretty nick-nacks I had given her had made her happy; her ardour was
redoubled, and the night passed joyously.

I spent the next day in going from shop to shop, making fresh purchases
for Marcoline, and we supped merrily at Madame Pernon's.

The day after, M. Bono came to see me at an early hour with a smile of
content on his face.

"Let us go and breakfast at a coffee-house," said he; "we will have some
discussion together."

When we were breakfasting he shewed me a letter written by Possano, in
which the rascal said that he was ready to abandon proceedings provided
that M. de Seingalt gave him a hundred louis, on receipt of which he
promised to leave Lyons immediately.

"I should be a great fool," said I, "if I gave the knave more money to
escape from the hands of justice. Let him go if he likes, I won't prevent
him; but he had better not expect me to give him anything. He will have a
writ out against him to-morrow. I should like to see him branded by the
hangman. He has slandered me, his benefactor, too grievously; let him
prove what he says, or be dishonoured before all men."

"His abandoning the proceedings," said M. Bono, "would in my opinion
amount to the same thing as his failing to prove his charges, and you
would do well to prefer it to a trial which would do your reputation no
good, even if you were completely successful. And the hundred louis is
nothing in comparison with the costs of such a trial."

"M. Bono, I value your advice very highly, and still more highly the
kindly feelings which prompt you, but you must allow me to follow my own
opinion in this case."

I went to my counsel and told him of the fresh proposal that Possano had
made, and of my refusal to listen to it, begging him to take measures for
the arrest of the villain who had vowed my death.

The same evening I had Madame Pernon and M. Bono, who was her lover, to
sup with me; and as the latter had a good knowledge of Italian Marcoline
was able to take part in the merriment of the company.

The next day Bono wrote to tell me that Possano had left Lyons never to
return, and that he had signed a full and satisfactory retraction. I was
not surprised to hear of his flight, but the other circumstance I could
not understand. I therefore hastened to call on Bono, who showed me the
document, which was certainly plain enough.

"Will that do?" said he.

"So well that I forgive him, but I wonder he did not insist on the
hundred Louis."

"My dear sir, I gave him the money with pleasure, to prevent a scandalous
affair which would have done us all harm in becoming public. If I had
told you nothing, you couldn't have taken any steps in the matter, and I
felt myself obliged to repair the mischief I had done in this way. You
would have known nothing about it, if you had said that you were not
satisfied. I am only too glad to have been enabled to skew my friendship
by this trifling service. We will say no more about it."

"Very good," said I, embracing him, "we will say no more, but please to
receive the assurance of my gratitude."

I confess I felt much relieved at being freed from this troublesome
business.






EPISODE 21 -- TO LONDON




CHAPTER V

I Meet the Venetian Ambassadors at Lyons, and also Marcoline's Uncle--I
Part from Marcoline and Set Out for Paris--An Amorous Journey

Thus freed from the cares which the dreadful slanders of Possano had
caused me, I gave myself up to the enjoyment of my fair Venetian, doing
all in my power to increase her happiness, as if I had had a premonition
that we should soon be separated from one another.

The day after the supper I gave to Madame Pernon and M. Bono, we went to
the theatre together, and in the box opposite to us I saw M. Querini, the
procurator, Morosini, M. Memmo, and Count Stratico, a Professor of the
University of Padua. I knew all these gentlemen; they had been in London,
and were passing through Lyons on their return to Venice.

"Farewell, fair Marcoline!" I said to myself, feeling quite
broken-hearted, but I remained calm, and said nothing to her. She did not
notice them as she was absorbed in her conversation with M. Bono, and
besides, she did not know them by sight. I saw that M. Memmo had seen me
and was telling the procurator of my presence, and as I knew the latter
very well I felt bound to pay them my respects then and there.

Querini received me very politely for a devotee, as also did Morosini,
while Memmo seemed moved; but no doubt he remembered that it was chiefly
due to his mother that I had been imprisoned eight years ago. I
congratulated the gentlemen on their embassy to England, on their return
to their native land, and for form's sake commended myself to their good
offices to enable me to return also. M. Morosini, noticing the richness
of my dress and my general appearance of prosperity, said that while I
had to stay away he had to return, and that he considered me the luckier
man.

"Your excellency is well aware," said I, "that nothing is sweeter than
forbidden fruit."

He smiled, and asked me whither I went and whence I came.

"I come from Rome," I answered, "where I had some converse with the Holy
Father, whom I knew before, and I am going through Paris on my way to
London.

"Call on me here, if you have time, I have a little commission to give
you."

"I shall always have time to serve your excellency in. Are you stopping
here for long?"

"Three or four days."

When I 'got back to my box Marcoline asked me who were the gentlemen to
whom I had been speaking. I answered coolly and indifferently, but
watching her as I spoke, that they were the Venetian ambassadors on their
way from London. The flush of her cheek died away and was replaced by
pallor; she raised her eyes to heaven, lowered them, and said not a word.
My heart was broken. A few minutes afterwards she asked me which was M.
Querini, and after I had pointed him out to her she watched him furtively
for the rest of the evening.

The curtain fell, we left our box, and at the door of the theatre we
found the ambassadors waiting for their carriage. Mine was in the same
line as theirs. The ambassador Querini said,--

"You have a very pretty young lady with you."

Marcoline stepped forward, seized his hand, and kissed it before I could
answer.

Querini, who was greatly astonished, thanked her and said,--

"What have I done to deserve this honour?"

"Because," said Marcoline, speaking in the Venetian dialect, "I have the
honour of knowing his excellency M. Querini."

"What are you doing with M. Casanova?"

"He is my uncle."

My carriage came up. I made a profound bow to the ambassadors, and called
out to the coachman, "To the 'Hotel du Parc'." It was the best hotel in
Lyons, and I was not sorry for the Venetians to hear where I was staying.

Marcoline was in despair, for she saw that the time for parting was near
at hand.

"We have three or four days before us," said I, "in which we can contrive
how to communicate with your uncle Mattio. I must commend you highly for
kissing M. Querini's hand. That was a masterstroke indeed. All will go
off well; but I hope you will be merry, for sadness I abhor."

We were still at table when I heard the voice of M. Memmo in the
ante-chamber; he was a young man, intelligent and good-natured. I warned
Marcoline not to say a word about our private affairs, but to display a
moderate gaiety. The servant announced the young nobleman, and we rose to
welcome him; but he made us sit down again, and sat beside us, and drank
a glass of wine with the utmost cordiality. He told me how he had been
supping with the old devotee Querini, who had had his hand kissed by a
young and fair Venetian. The ambassadors were much amused at the
circumstance, and Querini himself, in spite of his scrupulous conscience,
was greatly flattered.

"May I ask you, mademoiselle," he added, "how you came to know M.
Querini?"

"It's a mystery, sir."

"A mystery, is it? What fun we shall have tomorrow! I have come," he
said, addressing himself to me, "to ask you to dine with us to-morrow,
and you must bring your charming niece."

"Would you like to go, Marcoline?"

"'Con grandissimo piacere'! We shall speak Venetian, shall we not?"

"Certainly."

"'E viva'! I cannot learn French."

"M. Querini is in the same position," said M. Memmo.

After half an hour's agreeable conversation he left us, and Marcoline
embraced me with delight at having made such a good impression on these
gentlemen.

"Put on your best dress to-morrow," said I, "and do not forget your
jewels. Be agreeable to everybody, but pretend not to see your Uncle
Mattio, who will be sure to wait at table."

"You may be sure I shall follow your advice to the letter."

"And I mean to make the recognition a scene worthy of the drama. I intend
that you shall be taken back to Venice by M. Querini himself, while your
uncle will take care of you by his special orders."

"I shall be delighted with this arrangement, provided it succeeds."

"You may trust to me for that."

At nine o'clock the next day I called on Morosini concerning the
commissions he had for me. He gave me a little box and a letter for Lady
Harrington, and another letter with the words,--

"The Procurator Morosini is very sorry not to have been able to take a
last leave of Mdlle. Charpillon."

"Where shall I find her?"

"I really don't know. If you find her, give her the letter; if not, it
doesn't matter. That's a dazzling beauty you have with you, Casanova."

"Well, she has dazzled me."

"But how did she know Querini?"

"She has seen him at Venice, but she has never spoken to him."

"I thought so; we have been laughing over it, but Querini is hugely
pleased. But how did you get hold of her? She must be very young, as
Memmo says she cannot speak French."

"It would be a long story to tell, and after all we met through a mere
chance."