The Memoires of Casanova, Complete

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


"You plead the cause of your friend with the eloquence of an angel, but,
dear little wife, you do not see the affair in its proper light. You have
intelligence and a pure soul, but you have not my experience.
M---- M----'s love for me has been nothing but a passing fancy, and she
knows that I am not such an idiot as to be deceived by all this affair. I
am miserable, and it is her doing."

"Then I should be right if I complained of her also, because she makes me
feel that she is the mistress of my lover, and she shews me that, after
seducing him from me, she gives him back to me without difficulty. Then
she wishes me to understand that she despises also my tender affection
for her, since she places me in a position to shew that affection for
another person."

"Now, dearest, you speak without reason, for the relations between you
two are of an entirely different nature. Your mutual love is nothing but
trifling nonsense, mere illusion of the senses. The pleasures which you
enjoy together are not exclusive. To become jealous of one another it
would be necessary that one of you two should feel a similar affection
for another woman but M---- M---- could no more be angry at your having a
lover than you could be so yourself if she had one; provided, however,
that the lover should not belong to the other"

"But that is precisely our case, and you are mistaken. We are not angry
at your loving us both equally. Have I not written to you that I would
most willingly give you my place near M---- M----? Then you must believe
that I despise you likewise?"

"My darling, that wish of yours to give me up your place, when you did
not know that I was happy with M---- M----, arose from your friendship
rather than from your love, and for the present I must be glad to see
that your friendship is stronger than your love, but I have every reason
to be sorry when M---- M---- feels the same. I love her without any
possibility of marrying her. Do you understand me, dearest? As for you,
knowing that you must be my wife, I am certain of our love, which
practice will animate with new life. It is not the same with M---- M----;
that love cannot spring up again into existence. Is it not humiliating
for me to have inspired her with nothing but a passing fancy? I
understand your adoration for her very well. She has initiated you into
all her mysteries, and you owe her eternal friendship and everlasting
gratitude."

It was midnight, and we went on wasting our time in this desultory
conversation, when the prudent and careful servant brought us an
excellent supper. I could not touch anything, my heart was too full, but
my dear little wife supped with a good appetite. I could not help
laughing when I saw a salad of whites of eggs, and C---- C---- thought it
extraordinary because all the yolks had been removed. In her innocence,
she could not understand the intention of the person who had ordered the
supper. As I looked at her, I was compelled to acknowledge that she had
improved in beauty; in fact C---- C---- was remarkably beautiful, yet I
remained cold by her side. I have always thought that there is no merit
in being faithful to the person we truly love.

Two hours before day-light we resumed our seats near the fire, and
C---- C----, seeing how dull I was, was delicately attentive to me. She
attempted no allurement, all her movements wore the stamp of the most
decent reserve, and her conversation, tender in its expressions and
perfectly easy, never conveyed the shadow of a reproach for my coolness.

Towards the end of our long conversation, she asked me what she should
say to her friend on her return to the convent.

"My dear M---- M---- expects to see me full of joy and gratitude for the
generous present she thought she was making me by giving me this night,
but what shall I tell her?"

"The whole truth. Do not keep from her a single word of our conversation,
as far as your memory will serve you, and tell her especially that she
has made me miserable for a long time."

"No, for I should cause her too great a sorrow; she loves you dearly, and
cherishes the locket which contains your likeness. I mean, on the
contrary, to do all I can to bring peace between you two, and I must
succeed before long, because my friend is not guilty of any wrong, and
you only feel some spite, although with no cause. I will send you my
letter by Laura, unless you promise me to go and fetch it yourself at her
house."

"Your letters will always be dear to me, but, mark my words,
M---- M---- will not enter into any explanation. She will believe you in
everything, except in one."

"I suppose you mean our passing a whole night together as innocently as
if we were brother and sister. If she knows you as well as I do, she will
indeed think it most wonderful."

"In that case, you may tell her the contrary, if you like."

"Nothing of the sort. I hate falsehoods, and I will certainly never utter
one in such a case as this; it would be very wrong. I do not love you
less on that account, my darling, although, during this long night, you
have not condescended to give me the slightest proof of your love."

"Believe me, dearest, I am sick from unhappiness. I love you with my
whole soul, but I am in such a situation that...."

"What! you are weeping, my love! Oh! I entreat you, spare my heart! I am
so sorry to have told you such a thing, but I can assure you I never
meant to make you unhappy. I am sure that in a quarter of an hour
M---- M---- will be crying likewise."

The alarum struck, and, having no longer any hope of seeing
M---- M---- come to justify herself, I kissed C---- C----. I gave her the
key of the casino, requesting her to return it for me to M---- M----, and
my young friend having gone back to the convent, I put on my mask and
left the casino.




CHAPTER XX

I Am in Danger of Perishing in the Lagunes--Illness--Letters
from C. C. and M. M.--The Quarrel is Made Up--Meeting at the
Casino of Muran I Learn the Name of M. M.'s Friend, and
Consent to Give Him A Supper at My Casino in the Company of
Our Common Mistress

The weather was fearful. The wind was blowing fiercely, and it was
bitterly cold. When I reached the shore, I looked for a gondola, I called
the gondoliers, but, in contravention to the police regulations, there
was neither gondola nor gondolier. What was I to do? Dressed in light
linen, I was hardly in a fit state to walk along the wharf for an hour in
such weather. I should most likely have gone back to the casino if I had
had the key, but I was paying the penalty of the foolish spite which had
made me give it up. The wind almost carried me off my feet, and there was
no house that I could enter to get a shelter.

I had in my pockets three hundred philippes that I had won in the
evening, and a purse full of gold. I had therefore every reason to fear
the thieves of Muran--a very dangerous class of cutthroats, determined
murderers who enjoyed and abused a certain impunity, because they had
some privileges granted to them by the Government on account of the
services they rendered in the manufactories of looking-glasses and in the
glassworks which are numerous on the island. In order to prevent their
emigration, the Government had granted them the freedom of Venice. I
dreaded meeting a pair of them, who would have stripped me of everything,
at least. I had not, by chance, with me the knife which all honest men
must carry to defend their lives in my dear country. I was truly in an
unpleasant predicament.

I was thus painfully situated when I thought I could see a light through
the crevices of a small house. I knocked modestly against the shutter. A
voice called out:

"Who is knocking?"

And at the same moment the shutter was pushed open.

"What do you want?" asked a man, rather astonished at my costume.

I explained my predicament in a few words, and giving him one sequin I
begged his permission to shelter myself under his roof. Convinced by my
sequin rather than my words, he opened the door, I went in, and promising
him another sequin for his trouble I requested him to get me a gondola to
take me to Venice. He dressed himself hurriedly, thanking God for that
piece of good fortune, and went out assuring me that he would soon get me
a gondola. I remained alone in a miserable room in which all his family,
sleeping together in a large, ill-looking bed, were staring at me in
consequence of my extraordinary costume. In half an hour the good man
returned to announce that the gondoliers were at the wharf, but that they
wanted to be paid in advance. I raised no objection, gave a sequin to the
man for his trouble, and went to the wharf.

The sight of two strong gondoliers made me get into the gondola without
anxiety, and we left the shore without being much disturbed by the wind,
but when we had gone beyond the island, the storm attacked us with such
fury that I thought myself lost, for, although a good swimmer, I was not
sure I had strength enough to resist the violence of the waves and swim
to the shore. I ordered the men to go back to the island, but they
answered that I had not to deal with a couple of cowards, and that I had
no occasion to be afraid. I knew the disposition of our gondoliers, and I
made up my mind to say no more.

But the wind increased in violence, the foaming waves rushed into the
gondola, and my two rowers, in spite of their vigour and of their
courage, could no longer guide it. We were only within one hundred yards
of the mouth of the Jesuits' Canal, when a terrible gust of wind threw
one of the 'barcarols' into the sea; most fortunately he contrived to
hold by the gondola and to get in again, but he had lost his oar, and
while he was securing another the gondola had tacked, and had already
gone a considerable distance abreast. The position called for immediate
decision, and I had no wish to take my supper with Neptune. I threw a
handful of philippes into the gondola, and ordered the gondoliers to
throw overboard the 'felce' which covered the boat. The ringing of money,
as much as the imminent danger, ensured instant obedience, and then, the
wind having less hold upon us, my brave boatmen shewed AEolus that their
efforts could conquer him, for in less than five minutes we shot into the
Beggars' Canal, and I reached the Bragadin Palace. I went to bed at once,
covering myself heavily in order to regain my natural heat, but sleep,
which alone could have restored me to health, would not visit me.

Five or six hours afterwards, M. de Bragadin and his two inseparable
friends paid me a visit, and found me raving with fever. That did not
prevent my respectable protector from laughing at the sight of the
costume of Pierrot lying on the sofa. After congratulating me upon having
escaped with my life out of such a bad predicament, they left me alone.
In the evening I perspired so profusely that my bed had to be changed.
The next day my fever and delirium increased, and two days after, the
fever having abated, I found myself almost crippled and suffering
fearfully with lumbago. I felt that nothing could relieve me but a strict
regimen, and I bore the evil patiently.

Early on the Wednesday morning, Laura, the faithful messenger, called on
me; I was still in my bed: I told her that I could neither read nor
write, and I asked her to come again the next day. She placed on the
table, near my bed, the parcel she had for me, and she left me, knowing
what had occurred to me sufficiently to enable her to inform C---- C---- of
the state in which I was.

Feeling a little better towards the evening, I ordered my servant to lock
me in my room, and I opened C---- C----'s letter. The first thing I found
in the parcel, and which caused me great pleasure, was the key of the
casino which she returned to me. I had already repented having given it
up, and I was beginning to feel that I had been in the wrong. It acted
like a refreshing balm upon me. The second thing, not less dear after the
return of the precious key, was a letter from M---- M----, the seal of
which I was not long in breaking, and I read the following lines:

"The particulars which you have read, or which you are going to read, in
the letter of my friend, will cause you, I hope, to forget the fault
which I have committed so innocently, for I trusted, on the contrary,
that you would be very happy. I saw all and heard all, and you would not
have gone away without the key if I had not, most unfortunately, fallen
asleep an hour before your departure. Take back the key and come to the
casino to-morrow night, since Heaven has saved you from the storm. Your
love may, perhaps, give you the right to complain, but not to ill-treat a
woman who certainly has not given you any mark of contempt."

I afterwards read the letter of my dear C---- C----, and I will give a
copy of it here, because I think it will prove interesting:

"I entreat you, dear husband, not to send back this key, unless you have
become the most cruel of men, unless you find pleasure in tormenting two
women who, love you ardently, and who love you for yourself only. Knowing
your excellent heart, I trust you will go to the casino to-morrow evening
and make it up with M---- M----, who cannot go there to-night. You will
see that you are in the wrong, dearest, and that, far from despising you,
my dear friend loves you only. In the mean time, let me tell you what you
are not acquainted with, and what you must be anxious to know.

"Immediately after you had gone away in that fearful storm which caused
me such anguish, and just as I was preparing to return to the convent, I
was much surprised to see standing before me my dear M---- M----, who from
some hiding-place had heard all you had said. She had several times been
on the point of shewing herself, but she had always been prevented by the
fear of coming out of season, and thus stopping a reconciliation which
she thought was inevitable between two fond lovers. Unfortunately, sleep
had conquered her before your departure, and she only woke when the
alarum struck, too late to detain you, for you had rushed with the haste
of a man who is flying from some terrible danger. As soon as I saw her, I
gave her the key, although I did not know what it meant, and my friend,
heaving a deep sigh, told me that she would explain everything as soon as
we were safe in her room. We left the casino in a dreadful storm,
trembling for your safety, and not thinking of our own danger. As soon as
we were in the convent I resumed my usual costume, and M---- M---- went to
bed. I took a seat near her, and this is what she told me. 'When you left
your ring in my hands to go to your aunt, who had sent for you, I
examined it with so much attention that at last I suspected the small
blue spot to be connected with the secret spring; I took a pin, succeeded
in removing the top part, and I cannot express the joy I felt when I saw
that we both loved the same man, but no more can I give you an idea of my
sorrow when I thought that I was encroaching upon your rights. Delighted,
however, with my discovery, I immediately conceived a plan which would
procure you the pleasure of supping with him. I closed the ring again and
returned it to you, telling you at the same time that I had not been able
to discover anything. I was then truly the happiest of women. Knowing
your heart, knowing that you were aware of the love of your lover for me,
since I had innocently shewed you his portrait, and happy in the idea
that you were not jealous of me, I would have despised myself if I had
entertained any feelings different from your own, the more so that your
rights over him were by far stronger than mine. As for the mysterious
manner in which you always kept from me the name of your husband, I
easily guessed that you were only obeying his orders, and I admired your
noble sentiments and the goodness of your heart. In my opinion your lover
was afraid of losing us both, if we found out that neither the one nor
the other of us possessed his whole heart. I could not express my deep
sorrow when I thought that, after you had seen me in possession of his
portrait, you continued to act in the same manner towards me, although
you could not any longer hope to be the sole object of his love. Then I
had but one idea; to prove to both of you that M---- M---- is worthy of
your affection, of your friendship, of your esteem. I was indeed
thoroughly happy when I thought that the felicity of our trio would be
increased a hundredfold, for is it not an unbearable misery to keep a
secret from the being we adore? I made you take my place, and I thought
that proceeding a masterpiece. You allowed me to dress you as a nun, and
with a compliance which proves your confidence in me you went to my
casino without knowing where you were going. As soon as you had landed,
the gondola came back, and I went to a place well known to our friend
from which, without being seen, I could follow all your movements and
hear everything you said. I was the author of the play; it was natural
that I should witness it, the more so that I felt certain of seeing and
hearing nothing that would not be very agreeable to me. I reached the
casino a quarter of an hour after you, and I cannot tell you my
delightful surprise when I saw that dear Pierrot who had amused us so
much, and whom we had not recognized. But I was fated to feel no other
pleasure than that of his appearance. Fear, surprise, and anxiety
overwhelmed me at once when I saw the effect produced upon him by the
disappointment of his expectation, and I felt unhappy. Our lover took the
thing wrongly, and he went away in despair; he loves me still, but if he
thinks of me it is only to try to forget me. Alas! he will succeed but
too soon! By sending back that key he proves that he will never again go
to the casino. Fatal night! When my only wish was to minister to the
happiness of three persons, how is it that the very reverse of my wish
has occurred? It will kill me, dear friend, unless you contrive to make
him understand reason, for I feel that without him I cannot live. You
must have the means of writing to him, you know him, you know his name.
In the name of all goodness, send back this key to him with a letter to
persuade him to come to the casino to-morrow or on the following day, if
it is only to speak to me; and I hope to convince him of my love and my
innocence. Rest to-day, dearest, but to-morrow write to him, tell him the
whole truth; take pity on your poor friend, and forgive her for loving
your lover. I shall write a few lines myself; you will enclose them in
your letter. It is my fault if he no longer loves you; you ought to hate
me, and yet you are generous enough to love me. I adore you; I have seen
his tears, I have seen how well his soul can love; I know him now. I
could not have believed that men were able to love so much. I have passed
a terrible night. Do not think I am angry, dear friend, because you
confided to him that we love one another like two lovers; it does not
displease me, and with him it was no indiscretion, because his mind is as
free of prejudices as his heart is good.'

"Tears were choking her. I tried to console her, and I most willingly
promised her to write to you. She never closed her eyes throughout that
day, but I slept soundly for four hours.

"When we got up we found the convent full of bad news, which interested
us a great deal more than people imagined. It was reported that, an hour
before daybreak, a fishing-boat had been lost in the lagune, that two
gondolas had been capsized, and that the people in them had perished. You
may imagine our anguish! We dared not ask any questions, but it was just
the hour at which you had left me, and we entertained the darkest
forebodings. We returned to our room, where M---- M---- fainted away. More
courageous than she is, I told her that you were a good swimmer, but I
could not allay her anxiety, and she went to bed with a feverish chill.
Just at that moment, my aunt, who is of a very cheerful disposition, came
in, laughing, to tell us that during the storm the Pierrot who had made
us laugh so much had had a narrow escape of being drowned. 'Ah! the poor
Pierrot!' I exclaimed, 'tell us all about him, dear aunt. I am very glad
he was saved. Who is he? Do you know?' 'Oh! yes,' she answered,
'everything is known, for he was taken home by our gondoliers. One of
them has just told me that Pierrot, having spent the night at the Briati
ball, did not find any gondola to return to Venice, and that our
gondoliers took him for a sequin. One of the men fell into the sea, but
then the brave Pierrot, throwing handfuls of silver upon the 'Zenia'
pitched the 'felce' over board, and the wind having less hold they
reached Venice safely through the Beggars' Canal. This morning the lucky
gondoliers divided thirty philippes which they found in the gondola, and
they have been fortunate enough to pick up their 'felce'. Pierrot will
remember Muran and the ball at Briati. The man says that he is the son of
M. de Bragadin, the procurator's brother. He was taken to the palace of
that nobleman nearly dead from cold, for he was dressed in light calico,
and had no cloak.'

"When my aunt had left us, we looked at one another for several minutes
without uttering a word, but we felt that the good news had brought back
life to us. M---- M---- asked me whether you were really the son of M, de
Bragadin. 'It might be so,' I said to her, 'but his name does not shew my
lover to be the bastard of that nobleman, and still less his legitimate
child, for M. de Bragadin was never married.' 'I should be very sorry,'
said M---- M----, 'if he were his son.' I thought it right, then, to tell
her your true name, and of the application made to my father by M. de
Bragadin for my hand, the consequence of which was that I had been shut
up in the convent. Therefore, my own darling, your little wife has no
longer any secret to keep from M---- M----, and I hope you will not accuse
me of indiscretion, for it is better that our dear friend should know all
the truth than only half of it. We have been greatly amused, as you may
well suppose, by the certainty with which people say that you spent all
the night at the Briati ball. When people do not know everything, they
invent, and what might be is often accepted in the place of what is in
reality; sometimes it proves very fortunate. At all events the news did a
great deal of good to my friend, who is now much better. She has had an
excellent night, and the hope of seeing you at the casino has restored
all her beauty. She has read this letter three or four times, and has
smothered me with kisses. I long to give her the letter which you are
going to write to her. The messenger will wait for it. Perhaps I shall
see you again at the casino, and in a better temper, I hope. Adieu."

It did not require much argument to conquer me. When I had finished the
letter, I was at once the admirer of C---- C---- and the ardent lover of
M---- M----. But, alas! although the fever had left me, I was crippled.
Certain that Laura would come again early the next morning, I could not
refrain from writing to both of them a short letter, it is true, but long
enough to assure them that reason had again taken possession of my poor
brain. I wrote to C---- C---- that she had done right in telling her friend
my name, the more so that, as I did not attend their church any longer, I
had no reason to make a mystery of it. In everything else I freely
acknowledged myself in the wrong, and I promised her that I would atone
by giving M---M---- the strongest possible proofs of my repentance as soon
as I could go again to her casino.

This is the letter that I wrote to my adorable nun:

"I gave C---- C---- the key of your casino, to be returned to you, my own
charming friend, because I believed myself trifled with and despised, of
malice aforethought, by the woman I worship. In my error I thought myself
unworthy of presenting myself before your eyes, and, in spite of love,
horror made me shudder. Such was the effect produced upon me by an act
which would have appeared to me admirable, if my self-love had not
blinded me and upset my reason. But, dearest, to admire it it would have
been necessary for my mind to be as noble as yours, and I have proved how
far it is from being so. I am inferior to you in all things, except in
passionate love, and I will prove it to you at our next meeting, when I
will beg on my knees a generous pardon. Believe me, beloved creature, if
I wish ardently to recover my health, it is only to have it in my power
to prove by my love a thousand times increased, how ashamed I am of my
errors. My painful lumbago has alone prevented me from answering your
short note yesterday, to express to you my regrets, and the love which
has been enhanced in me by your generosity, alas! so badly rewarded. I
can assure you that in the lagunes, with death staring me in the face, I
regretted no one but you, nothing but having outraged you. But in the
fearful danger then threatening me I only saw a punishment from Heaven.
If I had not cruelly sent back to you the key of the casino, I should
most likely have returned there, and should have avoided the sorrow as
well as the physical pains which I am now suffering as an expiation. I
thank you a thousand times for having recalled me to myself, and you may
be certain that for the future I will keep better control over myself;
nothing shall make me doubt your love. But, darling, what do you say of
C---- C----? Is she not an incarnate angel who can be compared to no one
but you? You love us both equally. I am the only one weak and faulty, and
you make me ashamed of myself. Yet I feel that I would give my life for
her as well as for you. I feel curious about one thing, but I cannot
trust it to paper. You will satisfy that curiosity the first time I shall
be able to go to the casino before two days at the earliest. I will let
you know two days beforehand. In the mean time, I entreat you to think a
little of me, and to be certain of my devoted love. Adieu."