To Paris And Prison: The False Nun

J >> Jacques Casanova de Seingalt >> To Paris And Prison: The False Nun


I did not fail to keep the appointment.

"I think your English friend is a very pretty man," she said, "and when
he speaks in the Venetian dialect it makes me die with laughter. If my
mother agrees, I might, perhaps, force myself to love him. Supposing we
did not agree we could part at the end of a year, and I should be the
richer by an income of two hundred crowns."

"I am charmed with the sense of your arguments; speak about it to your
mother."

"I daren't, sweetheart; this kind of thing is too delicate to be
discussed between a mother and her daughter speak to her yourself."

"I will, indeed."

Laura, whom I had not seen since she had given me her daughter, asked for
no time to think it over, but full of glee told me that now her daughter
would be able to soothe her declining years, and that she would leave
Muran of which she was tired. She shewed me a hundred and thirty sequins
which Tonine had gained in my service, and which she had placed in her
hands.

Barberine, Tonine's younger sister, came to kiss my hand. I thought her
charming, and I gave her all the silver in my pocket. I then left,
telling Laura that I should expect her at my house. She soon followed me,
and gave her child a mother's blessing, telling her that she and her
family could go and live in Venice for sixty sous a day. Tonine embraced
her, and told her that she should have it.

This important affair having been managed to everybody's satisfaction, I
went to see M---- M----, who came into the parlour with C---- C----, whom I
found looking sad, though prettier than ever. She was melancholy, but
none the less tender. She could not stay for more than a quarter of an
hour for fear of being seen, as she was forbidden ever to go into the
parlour. I told M. M. the story of Tonine, who was going to live with
Murray in Venice; she was sorry to hear it, "for," said she, "now that
you have no longer any attraction at Muran, I shall see you less than
ever." I promised to come and see her often, but vain promises! The time
was near which parted us for ever.

The same evening I went to tell the good news to my friend Murray. He was
in a transport of joy, and begged me to come and sup with him at his
casino the day after next, and to bring the girl with me, that the
surrender might be made in form. I did not fail him, for once the matter
was decided, I longed to bring it to an end. In my presence he assigned
to her the yearly income for her life of two hundred Venetian ducats, and
by a second deed he gave her all the contents of the house with which he
was going to provide her, provided always that she lived with him for a
year. He allowed her to receive me as a friend, also to receive her
mother and sisters, and she was free to go and see them when she would.
Tonine threw her arms about his neck, and assured him that she would
endeavour to please him to the utmost of her ability. "I will see him,"
said she, pointing to me, "but as his friend he shall have nothing more
from me." Throughout this truly affecting scene she kept back her tears,
but I could not conceal mine. Murray was happy, but I was not long a
witness of his good fortune, the reason of which I will explain a little
later.

Three days afterwards Laura came to me, told me that she was living in
Venice, and asked me to take her to her daughter's. I owed this woman too
much to refuse her, and I took her there forthwith. Tonine gave thanks to
God, and also to me, and her mother took up the song, for they were not
quite sure whether they were more indebted to God or to me. Tonine was
eloquent in her praise of Murray, and made no complaint at my not having
come to see her, at which I was glad. As I was going Laura asked me to
take her back in my gondola, and as we had to pass by the house in which
she lived she begged me to come in for a moment, and I could not hurt her
feelings by refusing. I owe it to my honour to remark here that I was
thus polite without thinking that I should see Barberine again.

This girl, as pretty as her sister, though in another style, began by
awakening my curiosity--a weakness which usually renders the profligate
man inconstant. If all women were to have the same features, the same
disposition, and the same manners, men would not only never be
inconstant, but would never be in love. Under that state of things one
would choose a wife by instinct and keep to her till death, but our world
would then be under a different system to the present. Novelty is the
master of the soul. We know that what we do not see is very nearly the
same as what we have seen, but we are curious, we like to be quite sure,
and to attain our ends we give ourselves as much trouble as if we were
certain of finding some prize beyond compare.

Barberine, who looked upon me as an old friend--for her mother had
accustomed her to kiss my hand whenever I went there, who had undressed
more than once in my presence without troubling about me, who knew I had
made her sister's fortune and the family fortune as well, and thought
herself prettier than Tonine because her skin was fairer, and because she
had fine black eyes, desiring to take her sister's place, knew that to
succeed she must take me by storm. Her common sense told her that as I
hardly ever came to the house, I should not be likely to become amorous
of her unless she won me by storm; and to this end she shewed the utmost
complaisance when she had the chance, so that I won her without any
difficulty. All this reasoning came from her own head, for I am sure her
mother gave her no instructions. Laura was a mother of a kind common the
world over, but especially in Italy. She was willing to take advantage of
the earnings of her daughters, but she would never have induced them to
take the path of evil. There her virtue stopped short.

After I had inspected her two rooms and her little kitchen, and had
admired the cleanness which shone all around, Barberine asked me if I
would like to see their small garden.

"With pleasure," I replied, "for a garden is a rarity in Venice."

Her mother told her to give me some figs if there were any ripe ones. The
garden consisted of about thirty square feet, and grew only salad herbs
and a fine fig tree. It had not a good crop, and I told her that I could
not see any figs.

"I can see some at the top," said Barberine, "and I will gather them if
you will hold me the ladder."

"Yes, climb away; I will hold it quite firmly."

She stepped up lightly, and stretching out an arm to get at some figs to
one side of her, she put her body off its balance, holding on to the
ladder with the other hand.

"My dear Barberine, what do you think I can see?"

"What you have often seen with my sister."

"That's true! but you are prettier than she is."

The girl made no reply, but, as if she could not reach the fruit, she put
her foot on a high branch, and spewed me the most seductive picture. I
was in an ecstasy, and Barberine, who saw it, did not hurry herself. At
last I helped her to come down, and letting my hand wander indiscreetly,
I asked her if the fruit I held had been plucked, and she kept me a long
time telling me it was quite fresh. I took her within my arms, and
already her captive, I pressed her amorously to my heart, printing on her
lips a fiery kiss, which she gave me back with as much ardour.

"Will you give me what I have caught, dearest?"

"My mother is going to Muran to-morrow, and she will stay there all the
day; if you come, there is nothing I will refuse you."

When speech like this proceeds from a mouth still innocent, the man to
whom it is addressed ought to be happy, for desires are but pain and
torment, and enjoyment is sweet because it delivers us from them. This
shews that those who prefer a little resistance to an easy conquest are
in the wrong; but a too easy conquest often points to a depraved nature,
and this men do not like, however depraved they themselves may be.

We returned to the house, and I gave Barberine a tender kiss before
Laura's eyes, telling her that she had a very jewel in her daughter--a
compliment which made her face light up with pleasure. I gave the dear
girl ten sequins, and I went away congratulating myself, but cursing my
luck at not being able to make as good provision for Barberine as Murray
had made for her sister.

Tonine had told me that for manners' sake I should sup once with her. I
went the same evening and found Righelini and Murray there. The supper
was delicious, and I was delighted with the excellent understanding the
two lovers had already come to. I complimented the ambassador on the loss
of one of his tastes, and he told me he should be very sorry at such a
loss, as it would warn him of his declining powers.

"But," said I, "you used to like to perform the mysterious sacrifice of
Love without a veil."

"It was not I but Ancilla who liked it, and as I preferred pleasing her
to pleasing myself, I gave in to her taste without any difficulty."

"I am delighted with your answer, as I confess it would cost me something
to be the witness of your exploits with Tonine."

Having casually remarked that I had no longer a house in Muran, Righelini
told me that if I liked he could get me a delightful house at a low rent
on the Tondamente Nuovo.

As this quarter facing north, and as agreeable in summer as disagreeable
in winter, was opposite to Muran, where I should have to go twice a week,
I told the doctor I should be glad to look at the house.

I took leave of the rich and fortunate ambassador at midnight, and before
passing the day with my new prize I went to sleep so as to be fresh and
capable of running a good course.

I went to Barberine at an early hour, and as soon as she saw me she said,

"My mother will not be back till the evening, and my brother will take
his dinner at the school. Here is a fowl, a ham, some cheese, and two
bottles of Scopolo wine. We will take our mess whenever you like:"

"You astonish me, sweetheart, for how did you manage to get such a good
dinner?"

"We owe it to my mother, so to her be the praise."

"You have told her, then, what we are going to do?"

"No, not I, for I know nothing about it; but I told her you were coming
to see me, and at the same time I gave her the ten sequins."

"And what did your mother say?"

"She said she wouldn't be sorry if you were to love me as you loved my
sister."

"I love you better, though I love her well."

"You love her? Why have you left her, then?"

"I have not left her, for we supped together yesterday evening; but we no
longer live together as lovers, that is all. I have yielded her up to a
rich friend of mine, who has made her fortune."

"That is well, though I don't understand much about these affairs. I hope
you will tell Tonine that I have taken her place, and I should be very
pleased if you would let her know that you are quite sure you are my
first lover."

"And supposing the news vexes her?"

"So much the better. Will you do it for me? it's the first favour I have
asked of you."

"I promise to do so."

After this rapid dialogue we took breakfast, and then, perfectly agreed,
we went to bed, rather as if we were about to sacrifice to Hymen than to
love.

The game was new to Barberine, and her transports, her green
notions--which she told me openly--her inexperience, or rather her
awkwardness, enchanted me. I seemed for the first time to pluck the fruit
of the tree of knowledge, and never had I tasted fruit so delicious. My
little maid would have been ashamed to let me see how the first thorn
hurt her, and to convince me that she only smelt the rose, she strove to
make me think she experienced more pleasure than is possible in a first
trial, always more or less painful. She was not yet a big girl, the roses
on her swelling breasts were as yet but buds, and she was a woman only in
her heart.

After more than one assault delivered and sustained with spirit, we got
up for dinner, and after we had refreshed ourselves we mounted once more
the altar of love, where we remained till the evening. Laura found us
dressed and well pleased with each other on her return. I made Barberine
another present of twenty sequins, I swore to love her always, and went
on my way. At the time I certainly meant to keep to my oath, but that
which destiny had in store for me could not be reconciled with these
promises which welled forth from my soul in a moment of excitement.

The next morning Righelini took me to see the lodging he had spoken to me
about. I liked it and took it on the spot, paying the first quarter in
advance. The house belonged to a widow with two daughters, the elder of
whom had just been blooded. Righelini was her doctor, and had treated her
for nine months without success. As he was going to pay her a visit I
went in with him, and found myself in the presence of a fine waxen
statue. Surprise drew from me these words:

"She is pretty, but the sculptor should give her some colour."

On which the statue smiled in a manner which would have been charming if
her lips had but been red.

"Her pallor," said Righelini, "will not astonish you when I tell you she
has just been blooded for the hundred and fourth time."

I gave a very natural gesture of surprise.

This fine girl had attained the age of eighteen years without
experiencing the monthly relief afforded by nature, the result being that
she felt a deathly faintness three or four times a week, and the only
relief was to open the vein.

"I want to send her to the country," said the doctor, "where pure and
wholesome air, and, above all, more exercise, will do her more good than
all the drugs in the world."

After I had been told that my bed should be made ready by the evening, I
went away with Righelini, who told me that the only cure for the girl
would be a good strong lover.

"But my dear doctor," said I, "can't you make your own prescription?"

"That would be too risky a game, for I might find myself compelled to
marry her, and I hate marriage like the devil."

Though I was no better inclined towards marriage than the doctor, I was
too near the fire not to get burnt, and the reader will see in the next
chapter how I performed the miraculous cure of bringing the colours of
health into the cheeks of this pallid beauty.




CHAPTER XXV

The Fair Invalid I Cure Her--A Plot Formed to Ruin Me--What Happened at
the House of the Young Countess Bonafede--The Erberia--Domiciliary
Visit--My Conversation with M. de Bragadin--I Am Arrested by Order of the
State Inquisitors.

After leaving Dr. Righelini I went to sup with M. de Bragadin, and gave
the generous and worthy old man a happy evening. This was always the
case; I made him and his two good friends happy whenever I took meals
with them.

Leaving them at an early hour, I went to my lodging and was greatly
surprised to find my bedroom balcony occupied. A young lady of an
exquisite figure rose as soon as she saw me, and gracefully asked me
pardon for the liberty she had taken.

"I am," she said, "the statue you saw this morning. We do not light the
candles in the evening for fear of attracting the gnats, but when you
want to go to bed we will shut the door and go away. I beg to introduce
you to my younger sister, my mother has gone to bed."

I answered her to the effect that the balcony was always at her service,
and that since it was still early I begged their permission to put on my
dressing-gown and to keep them company. Her conversation was charming;
she made me spend two most delightful hours, and did not leave me till
twelve o'clock. Her younger sister lighted me a candle, and as they went
they wished me a good night.

I lay down full of this pretty girl, and I could not believe that she was
really ill. She spoke to the point, she was cheerful, clever, and full of
spirits. I could not understand how it came to pass that she had not been
already cured in a town like Venice, if her cure was really only to be
effected in the manner described by Dr. Righelini; for in spite of her
pallor she seemed to me quite fair enough to charm a lover, and I
believed her to be spirited enough to determine to take the most
agreeable medicine a doctor can prescribe.

In the morning I rang the bell as I was getting up, and the younger
sister came into my room, and said that as they kept no servant she had
come to do what I wanted. I did not care to have a servant when I was not
at M. de Bragadin's, as I found myself more at liberty to do what I
liked. After she had done me some small services, I asked her how her
sister was.

"Very well," said she, "for her pale complexion is not an illness, and
she only suffers when her breath fails her. She has a very good appetite,
and sleeps as well as I do."

"Whom do I hear playing the violin?"

"It's the dancing master giving my sister a lesson."

I hurried over my dressing that I might see her; and I found her
charming, though her old dancing master allowed her to turn in her toes.
All that this young and beautiful girl wanted was the Promethean spark,
the colour of life; her whiteness was too like snow, and was distressing
to look at.

The dancing master begged me to dance a minuet with his pupil, and I
assented, asking him to play larghissimo. "The signorina would find it
too tiring," said he; but she hastened to answer that she did not feel
weak, and would like to dance thus. She danced very well, but when we had
done she was obliged to throw herself in a chair. "In future, my dear
master," said she, "I will only dance like that, for I think the rapid
motion will do me good."

When the master was gone, I told her that her lessons were too short, and
that her master was letting her get into bad habits. I then set her feet,
her shoulders, and her arms in the proper manner. I taught her how to
give her hand gracefully, to bend her knees in time; in fine, I gave her
a regular lesson for an hour, and seeing that she was getting rather
tired I begged her to sit down, and I went out to pay a visit to M. M.

I found her very sad, for C---- C----'s father was dead, and they had
taken her out of the convent to marry her to a lawyer. Before leaving
C---- C---- had left a letter for me, in which she said that if I would
promise to marry her at some time suitable to myself, she would wait for
me, and refuse all other offers. I answered her straightforwardly that I
had no property and no prospects, that I left her free, advising her not
to refuse any offer which might be to her advantage.

In spite of this dismissal C---- C---- did not marry N---- till after my
flight from The Leads, when nobody expected to see me again in Venice. I
did not see her for nineteen years, and then I was grieved to find her a
widow, and poorly off. If I went to Venice now I should not marry her,
for at my age marriage is an absurdity, but I would share with her my
little all, and live with her as with a dear sister.

When I hear women talking about the bad faith and inconstancy of men, and
maintaining that when men make promises of eternal constancy they are
always deceivers, I confess that they are right, and join in their
complaints. Still it cannot be helped, for the promises of lovers are
dictated by the heart, and consequently the lamentations of women only
make me want to laugh. Alas! we love without heeding reason, and cease to
love in the same manner.

About this time I received a letter from the Abbe de Bernis, who wrote
also to M---- M----. He told me that I ought to do my utmost to make our
nun take a reasonable view of things, dwelling on the risks I should run
in carrying her off and bringing her to Paris, where all his influence
would be of no avail to obtain for us that safety so indispensable to
happiness. I saw M---- M----; we shewed each other our letters, she had
some bitter tears, and her grief pierced me to the heart. I still had a
great love for her in spite of my daily infidelities, and when I thought
of those moments in which I had seen her given over to voluptuousness I
could not help pitying her fate as I thought of the days of despair in
store for her. But soon after this an event happened which gave rise to
some wholesome reflections. One day, when I had come to see her, she
said,

"They have just been burying a nun who died of consumption the day before
yesterday in the odour of sanctity. She was called 'Maria Concetta.' She
knew you, and told C---- C---- your name when you used to come to mass on
feast days. C---- C---- begged her to be discreet, but the nun told her
that you were a dangerous man, whose presence should be shunned by a
young girl. C---- C---- told me all this after the mask of Pierrot."

"What was this saint's name when she was in the world?"

"Martha."

"I know her."

I then told M---- M---- the whole history of my loves with Nanette and
Marton, ending with the letter she wrote me, in which she said that she
owed me, indirectly, that eternal salvation to which she hoped to attain.

In eight or ten days my conversation with my hostess'
daughter--conversation which took place on the balcony, and which
generally lasted till midnight--and the lesson I gave her every morning,
produced the inevitable and natural results; firstly, that she no longer
complained of her breath failing, and, secondly, that I fell in love with
her. Nature's cure had not yet relieved her, but she no longer needed to
be let blood. Righelini came to visit her as usual, and seeing that she
was better he prophesied that nature's remedy, without which only art
could keep her alive, would make all right before the autumn. Her mother
looked upon me as an angel sent by God to cure her daughter, who for her
part shewed me that gratitude which with women is the first step towards
love. I had made her dismiss her old dancing master, and I had taught her
to dance with extreme grace.

At the end of these ten or twelve days, just as I was going to give her
her lesson, her breath failed instantaneously, and she fell back into my
arms like a dead woman. I was alarmed, but her mother, who had become
accustomed to see her thus, sent for the surgeon, and her sister unlaced
her. I was enchanted with her exquisite bosom, which needed no colouring
to make it more beautiful. I covered it up, saying that the surgeon would
make a false stroke if he were to see her thus uncovered; but feeling
that I laid my hand upon her with delight, she gently repulsed me,
looking at me with a languishing gaze which made the deepest impression
on me.

The surgeon came and bled her in the arm, and almost instantaneously she
recovered full consciousness. At most only four ounces of blood were
taken from her, and her mother telling me that this was the utmost extent
to which she was blooded, I saw it was no such matter for wonder as
Righelini represented it, for being blooded twice a week she lost three
pounds of blood a month, which she would have done naturally if the
vessels had not been obstructed.

The surgeon had hardly gone out of the door when to my astonishment she
told me that if I would wait for her a moment she would come back and
begin her dancing. This she did, and danced as if there had been nothing
the matter.

Her bosom, on which two of my senses were qualified to give evidence, was
the last stroke, and made me madly in love with her. I returned to the
house in the evening, and found her in her room with the sister. She told
me that she was expecting her god-father, who was an intimate friend of
her father's, and had come every evening to spend an hour with her for
the last eighteen years.

"How old is he?"

"He is over fifty."

"Is he a married man?"

"Yes, his name is Count S----. He is as fond of me as a father would be,
and his affection has continued the same since my childhood. Even his
wife comes to see me sometimes, and to ask me to dinner. Neat autumn I am
going into the country with her, and I hope the fresh air will do me
good. My god-father knows you are staying with us and is satisfied. He
does not know you, but if you like you can make his acquaintance."

I was glad to hear all this, as I gained a good deal of useful
information without having to ask any awkward questions. The friendship
of this Greek looked very like love. He was the husband of Countess
S----, who had taken me to the convent at Muran two years before.

I found the count a very polite man. He thanked me in a paternal manner
for my kindness to his daughter, and begged me to do him the honour of
dining with him on the following day, telling me that he would introduce
me to his wife. I accepted his invitation with pleasure, for I was fond
of dramatic situations, and my meeting with the countess promised to be
an exciting one. This invitation bespoke the courteous gentleman, and I
charmed my pretty pupil by singing his praises after he had gone.

"My god-father," said she, "is in possession of all the necessary
documents for withdrawing from the house of Persico our family fortune,
which amounts to forty thousand crowns. A quarter of this sum belongs to
me, and my mother has promised my sister and myself to share her dowry
between us."