Venetian Years: A Cleric in Naples

J >> Jacques Casanova de Seingalt >> Venetian Years: A Cleric in Naples

MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798

VENETIAN YEARS, Volume 1b--A CLERIC IN NAPLES

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




A CLERIC IN NAPLES




CHAPTER VIII

My Misfortunes in Chiozza--Father Stephano--The Lazzaretto at Ancona--The
Greek Slave--My Pilgrimage to Our Lady of Loretto--I Go to Rome on Foot,
and From Rome to Naples to Meet the Bishop--I Cannot Join Him--Good Luck
Offers Me the Means of Reaching Martorano, Which Place I Very Quickly
Leave to Return to Naples

The retinue of the ambassador, which was styled "grand," appeared to me
very small. It was composed of a Milanese steward, named Carcinelli, of a
priest who fulfilled the duties of secretary because he could not write,
of an old woman acting as housekeeper, of a man cook with his ugly wife,
and eight or ten servants.

We reached Chiozza about noon. Immediately after landing, I politely
asked the steward where I should put up, and his answer was:

"Wherever you please, provided you let this man know where it is, so that
he can give you notice when the peotta is ready to sail. My duty," he
added, "is to leave you at the lazzaretto of Ancona free of expense from
the moment we leave this place. Until then enjoy yourself as well as you
can."

The man to whom I was to give my address was the captain of the peotta. I
asked him to recommend me a lodging.

"You can come to my house," he said, "if you have no objection to share a
large bed with the cook, whose wife remains on board."

Unable to devise any better plan, I accepted the offer, and a sailor,
carrying my trunk, accompanied me to the dwelling of the honest captain.
My trunk had to be placed under the bed which filled up the room. I was
amused at this, for I was not in a position to be over-fastidious, and,
after partaking of some dinner at the inn, I went about the town. Chiozza
is a peninsula, a sea-port belonging to Venice, with a population of ten
thousand inhabitants, seamen, fishermen, merchants, lawyers, and
government clerks.

I entered a coffee-room, and I had scarcely taken a seat when a young
doctor-at-law, with whom I had studied in Padua, came up to me, and
introduced me to a druggist whose shop was near by, saying that his house
was the rendezvous of all the literary men of the place. A few minutes
afterwards, a tall Jacobin friar, blind of one eye, called Corsini, whom
I had known in Venice, came in and paid me many compliments. He told me
that I had arrived just in time to go to a picnic got up by the Macaronic
academicians for the next day, after a sitting of the academy in which
every member was to recite something of his composition. He invited me to
join them, and to gratify the meeting with the delivery of one of my
productions. I accepted the invitation, and, after the reading of ten
stanzas which I had written for the occasion, I was unanimously elected a
member. My success at the picnic was still greater, for I disposed of
such a quantity of macaroni that I was found worthy of the title of
prince of the academy.

The young doctor, himself one of the academicians, introduced me to his
family. His parents, who were in easy circumstances, received me very
kindly. One of his sisters was very amiable, but the other, a professed
nun, appeared to me a prodigy of beauty. I might have enjoyed myself in a
very agreeable way in the midst of that charming family during my stay in
Chiozza, but I suppose that it was my destiny to meet in that place with
nothing but sorrows. The young doctor forewarned me that the monk Corsini
was a very worthless fellow, despised by everybody, and advised me to
avoid him. I thanked him for the information, but my thoughtlessness
prevented me from profiting by it. Of a very easy disposition, and too
giddy to fear any snares, I was foolish enough to believe that the monk
would, on the contrary, be the very man to throw plenty of amusement in
my way.

On the third day the worthless dog took me to a house of ill-fame, where
I might have gone without his introduction, and, in order to shew my
mettle, I obliged a low creature whose ugliness ought to have been a
sufficient antidote against any fleshly desire. On leaving the place, he
brought me for supper to an inn where we met four scoundrels of his own
stamp. After supper one of them began a bank of faro, and I was invited
to join in the game. I gave way to that feeling of false pride which so
often causes the ruin of young men, and after losing four sequins I
expressed a wish to retire, but my honest friend, the Jacobin contrived
to make me risk four more sequins in partnership with him. He held the
bank, and it was broken. I did not wish to play any more, but Corsini,
feigning to pity me and to feel great sorrow at being the cause of my
loss, induced me to try myself a bank of twenty-five sequins; my bank was
likewise broken. The hope of winning back my money made me keep up the
game, and I lost everything I had.

Deeply grieved, I went away and laid myself down near the cook, who woke
up and said I was a libertine.

"You are right," was all I could answer.

I was worn out with fatigue and sorrow, and I slept soundly. My vile
tormentor, the monk, woke me at noon, and informed me with a triumphant
joy that a very rich young man had been invited by his friends to supper,
that he would be sure to play and to lose, and that it would be a good
opportunity for me to retrieve my losses.

"I have lost all my money. Lend me twenty sequins."

"When I lend money I am sure to lose; you may call it superstition, but I
have tried it too often. Try to find money somewhere else, and come.
Farewell."

I felt ashamed to confess my position to my friend, and sending for, a
money-lender I emptied my trunk before him. We made an inventory of my
clothes, and the honest broker gave me thirty sequins, with the
understanding that if I did not redeem them within three days all my
things would become his property. I am bound to call him an honest man,
for he advised me to keep three shirts, a few pairs of stockings, and a
few handkerchiefs; I was disposed to let him take everything, having a
presentiment that I would win back all I had lost; a very common error. A
few years later I took my revenge by writing a diatribe against
presentiments. I am of opinion that the only foreboding in which man can
have any sort of faith is the one which forbodes evil, because it comes
from the mind, while a presentiment of happiness has its origin in the
heart, and the heart is a fool worthy of reckoning foolishly upon fickle
fortune.

I did not lose any time in joining the honest company, which was alarmed
at the thought of not seeing me. Supper went off without any allusion to
gambling, but my admirable qualities were highly praised, and it was
decided that a brilliant fortune awaited me in Rome. After supper there
was no talk of play, but giving way to my evil genius I loudly asked for
my revenge. I was told that if I would take the bank everyone would punt.
I took the bank, lost every sequin I had, and retired, begging the monk
to pay what I owed to the landlord, which he promised to do.

I was in despair, and to crown my misery I found out as I was going home
that I had met the day before with another living specimen of the Greek
woman, less beautiful but as perfidious. I went to bed stunned by my
grief, and I believe that I must have fainted into a heavy sleep, which
lasted eleven hours; my awaking was that of a miserable being, hating the
light of heaven, of which he felt himself unworthy, and I closed my eyes
again, trying to sleep for a little while longer. I dreaded to rouse
myself up entirely, knowing that I would then have to take some decision;
but I never once thought of returning to Venice, which would have been
the very best thing to do, and I would have destroyed myself rather than
confide my sad position to the young doctor. I was weary of my existence,
and I entertained vaguely some hope of starving where I was, without
leaving my bed. It is certain that I should not have got up if M. Alban,
the master of the peotta, had not roused me by calling upon me and
informing me that the boat was ready to sail.

The man who is delivered from great perplexity, no matter by what means,
feels himself relieved. It seemed to me that Captain Alban had come to
point out the only thing I could possibly do; I dressed myself in haste,
and tying all my worldly possessions in a handkerchief I went on board.
Soon afterwards we left the shore, and in the morning we cast anchor in
Orsara, a seaport of Istria. We all landed to visit the city, which would
more properly be called a village. It belongs to the Pope, the Republic
of Venice having abandoned it to the Holy See.

A young monk of the order of the Recollects who called himself Friar
Stephano of Belun, and had obtained a free passage from the devout
Captain Alban, joined me as we landed and enquired whether I felt sick.

"Reverend father, I am unhappy."

"You will forget all your sorrow, if you will come and dine with me at
the house of one of our devout friends."

I had not broken my fast for thirty-six hours, and having suffered much
from sea-sickness during the night, my stomach was quite empty. My erotic
inconvenience made me very uncomfortable, my mind felt deeply the
consciousness of my degradation, and I did not possess a groat! I was in
such a miserable state that I had no strength to accept or to refuse
anything. I was thoroughly torpid, and I followed the monk mechanically.

He presented me to a lady, saying that he was accompanying me to Rome,
where I intend to become a Franciscan. This untruth disgusted me, and
under any other circumstances I would not have let it pass without
protest, but in my actual position it struck me as rather comical. The
good lady gave us a good dinner of fish cooked in oil, which in Orsara is
delicious, and we drank some exquisite refosco. During our meal, a priest
happened to drop in, and, after a short conversation, he told me that I
ought not to pass the night on board the tartan, and pressed me to accept
a bed in his house and a good dinner for the next day in case the wind
should not allow us to sail; I accepted without hesitation. I offered my
most sincere thanks to the good old lady, and the priest took me all over
the town. In the evening, he brought me to his house where we partook of
an excellent supper prepared by his housekeeper, who sat down to the
table with us, and with whom I was much pleased. The refosco, still
better than that which I had drunk at dinner, scattered all my misery to
the wind, and I conversed gaily with the priest. He offered to read to me
a poem of his own composition, but, feeling that my eyes would not keep
open, I begged he would excuse me and postpone the reading until the
following day.

I went to bed, and in the morning, after ten hours of the most profound
sleep, the housekeeper, who had been watching for my awakening, brought
me some coffee. I thought her a charming woman, but, alas! I was not in a
fit state to prove to her the high estimation in which I held her beauty.

Entertaining feelings of gratitude for my kind host, and disposed to
listen attentively to his poem, I dismissed all sadness, and I paid his
poetry such compliments that he was delighted, and, finding me much more
talented than he had judged me to be at first, he insisted upon treating
me to a reading of his idylls, and I had to swallow them, bearing the
infliction cheerfully. The day passed off very agreeably; the housekeeper
surrounded me with the kindest attentions--a proof that she was smitten
with me; and, giving way to that pleasing idea, I felt that, by a very
natural system of reciprocity, she had made my conquest. The good priest
thought that the day had passed like lightning, thanks to all the
beauties I had discovered in his poetry, which, to speak the truth, was
below mediocrity, but time seemed to me to drag along very slowly,
because the friendly glances of the housekeeper made me long for bedtime,
in spite of the miserable condition in which I felt myself morally and
physically. But such was my nature; I abandoned myself to joy and
happiness, when, had I been more reasonable, I ought to have sunk under
my grief and sadness.

But the golden time came at last. I found the pretty housekeeper full of
compliance, but only up to a certain point, and as she offered some
resistance when I shewed myself disposed to pay a full homage to her
charms, I quietly gave up the undertaking, very well pleased for both of
us that it had not been carried any further, and I sought my couch in
peace. But I had not seen the end of the adventure, for the next morning,
when she brought my coffee, her pretty, enticing manners allured me to
bestow a few loving caresses upon her, and if she did not abandon herself
entirely, it was only, as she said, because she was afraid of some
surprise. The day passed off very pleasantly with the good priest, and at
night, the house-keeper no longer fearing detection, and I having on my
side taken every precaution necessary in the state in which I was, we
passed two most delicious hours. I left Orsara the next morning.

Friar Stephano amused me all day with his talk, which plainly showed me
his ignorance combined with knavery under the veil of simplicity. He made
me look at the alms he had received in Orsara--bread, wine, cheese,
sausages, preserves, and chocolate; every nook and cranny of his holy
garment was full of provisions.

"Have you received money likewise?" I enquired.

"God forbid! In the first place, our glorious order does not permit me to
touch money, and, in the second place, were I to be foolish enough to
receive any when I am begging, people would think themselves quit of me
with one or two sous, whilst they dive me ten times as much in eatables.
Believe me Saint-Francis, was a very judicious man."

I bethought myself that what this monk called wealth would be poverty to
me. He offered to share with me, and seemed very proud at my consenting
to honour him so far.

The tartan touched at the harbour of Pola, called Veruda, and we landed.
After a walk up hill of nearly a quarter of an hour, we entered the city,
and I devoted a couple of hours to visiting the Roman antiquities, which
are numerous, the town having been the metropolis of the empire. Yet I
saw no other trace of grand buildings except the ruins of the arena. We
returned to Veruda, and went again to sea. On the following day we
sighted Ancona, but the wind being against us we were compelled to tack
about, and we did not reach the port till the second day. The harbour of
Ancona, although considered one of the great works of Trajan, would be
very unsafe if it were not for a causeway which has cost a great deal of
money, and which makes it some what better. I observed a fact worthy of
notice, namely, that, in the Adriatic, the northern coast has many
harbours, while the opposite coast can only boast of one or two. It is
evident that the sea is retiring by degrees towards the east, and that in
three or four more centuries Venice must be joined to the land. We landed
at the old lazzaretto, where we received the pleasant information that we
would go through a quarantine of twenty-eight days, because Venice had
admitted, after a quarantine of three months, the crew of two ships from
Messina, where the plague had recently been raging. I requested a room
for myself and for Brother Stephano, who thanked me very heartily. I
hired from a Jew a bed, a table and a few chairs, promising to pay for
the hire at the expiration of our quarantine. The monk would have nothing
but straw. If he had guessed that without him I might have starved, he
would most likely not have felt so much vanity at sharing my room. A
sailor, expecting to find in me a generous customer, came to enquire
where my trunk was, and, hearing from me that I did not know, he, as well
as Captain Alban, went to a great deal of trouble to find it, and I could
hardly keep down my merriment when the captain called, begging to be
excused for having left it behind, and assuring me that he would take
care to forward it to me in less than three weeks.

The friar, who had to remain with me four weeks, expected to live at my
expense, while, on the contrary, he had been sent by Providence to keep
me. He had provisions enough for one week, but it was necessary to think
of the future.

After supper, I drew a most affecting picture of my position, shewing
that I should be in need of everything until my arrival at Rome, where I
was going, I said, to fill the post of secretary of memorials, and my
astonishment may be imagined when I saw the blockhead delighted at the
recital of my misfortunes.

"I undertake to take care of you until we reach Rome; only tell me
whether you can write."

"What a question! Are you joking?"

"Why should I? Look at me; I cannot write anything but my name. True, I
can write it with either hand; and what else do I want to know?"

"You astonish me greatly, for I thought you were a priest."

"I am a monk; I say the mass, and, as a matter of course, I must know how
to read. Saint-Francis, whose unworthy son I am, could not read, an that
is the reason why he never said a mass. But as you can write, you will
to-morrow pen a letter in my name to the persons whose names I will give
you, and I warrant you we shall have enough sent here to live like
fighting cocks all through our quarantine."

The next day he made me write eight letters, because, in the oral
tradition of his order, it is said that, when a monk has knocked at seven
doors and has met with a refusal at every one of them, he must apply to
the eighth with perfect confidence, because there he is certain of
receiving alms. As he had already performed the pilgrimage to Rome, he
knew every person in Ancona devoted to the cult of Saint-Francis, and was
acquainted with the superiors of all the rich convents. I had to write to
every person he named, and to set down all the lies he dictated to me. He
likewise made me sign the letters for him, saying, that, if he signed
himself, his correspondents would see that the letters had not been
written by him, which would injure him, for, he added, in this age of
corruption, people will esteem only learned men. He compelled me to fill
the letters with Latin passages and quotations, even those addressed to
ladies, and I remonstrated in vain, for, when I raised any objection, he
threatened to leave me without anything to eat. I made up my mind to do
exactly as he wished. He desired me to write to the superior of the
Jesuits that he would not apply to the Capuchins, because they were no
better than atheists, and that that was the reason of the great dislike
of Saint-Francis for them. It was in vain that I reminded him of the fact
that, in the time of Saint-Francis, there were neither Capuchins nor
Recollets. His answer was that I had proved myself an ignoramus. I firmly
believed that he would be thought a madman, and that we should not
receive anything, but I was mistaken, for such a quantity of provisions
came pouring in that I was amazed. Wine was sent from three or four
different quarters, more than enough for us during all our stay, and yet
I drank nothing but water, so great was my wish to recover my health. As
for eatables, enough was sent in every day for six persons; we gave all
our surplus to our keeper, who had a large family. But the monk felt no
gratitude for the kind souls who bestowed their charity upon him; all his
thanks were reserved for Saint-Francis.

He undertook to have my men washed by the keeper; I would not have dared
to give it myself, and he said that he had nothing to fear, as everybody
was well aware that the monks of his order never wear any kind of linen.

I kept myself in bed nearly all day, and thus avoided shewing myself to
visitors. The persons who did not come wrote letters full of
incongruities cleverly worded, which I took good care not to point out to
him. It was with great difficulty that I tried to persuade him that those
letters did not require any answer.

A fortnight of repose and severe diet brought me round towards complete
recovery, and I began to walk in the yard of the lazzaretto from morning
till night; but the arrival of a Turk from Thessalonia with his family
compelled me to suspend my walks, the ground-floor having been given to
him. The only pleasure left me was to spend my time on the balcony
overlooking the yard. I soon saw a Greek slave, a girl of dazzling
beauty, for whom I felt the deepest interest. She was in the habit of
spending the whole day sitting near the door with a book or some
embroidery in her hand. If she happened to raise her eyes and to meet
mine, she modestly bent her head down, and sometimes she rose and went in
slowly, as if she meant to say, "I did not know that somebody was looking
at me." Her figure was tall and slender, her features proclaimed her to
be very young; she had a very fair complexion, with beautiful black hair
and eyes. She wore the Greek costume, which gave her person a certain air
of very exciting voluptuousness.

I was perfectly idle, and with the temperament which nature and habit had
given me, was it likely that I could feast my eyes constantly upon such a
charming object without falling desperately in love? I had heard her
conversing in Lingua Franca with her master, a fine old man, who, like
her, felt very weary of the quarantine, and used to come out but seldom,
smoking his pipe, and remaining in the yard only a short time. I felt a
great temptation to address a few words to the beautiful girl, but I was
afraid she might run away and never come out again; however, unable to
control myself any longer, I determined to write to her; I had no
difficulty in conveying the letter, as I had only to let it fall from my
balcony. But she might have refused to pick it up, and this is the plan I
adopted in order not to risk any unpleasant result.

Availing myself of a moment during which she was alone in the yard, I
dropped from my balcony a small piece of paper folded like a letter, but
I had taken care not to write anything on it, and held the true letter in
my hand. As soon as I saw her stooping down to pick up the first, I
quickly let the second drop at her feet, and she put both into her
pocket. A few minutes afterwards she left the yard. My letter was
somewhat to this effect:

"Beautiful angel from the East, I worship you. I will remain all night on
this balcony in the hope that you will come to me for a quarter of an
hour, and listen to my voice through the hole under my feet. We can speak
softly, and in order to hear me you can climb up to the top of the bale
of goods which lies beneath the same hole."

I begged from my keeper not to lock me in as he did every night, and he
consented on condition that he would watch me, for if I had jumped down
in the yard his life might have been the penalty, and he promised not to
disturb me on the balcony.

At midnight, as I was beginning to give her up, she came forward. I then
laid myself flat on the floor of the balcony, and I placed my head
against the hole, about six inches square. I saw her jump on the bale,
and her head reached within a foot from the balcony. She was compelled to
steady herself with one hand against the wall for fear of falling, and in
that position we talked of love, of ardent desires, of obstacles, of
impossibilities, and of cunning artifices. I told her the reason for
which I dared not jump down in the yard, and she observed that, even
without that reason, it would bring ruin upon us, as it would be
impossible to come up again, and that, besides, God alone knew what her
master would do if he were to find us together. Then, promising to visit
me in this way every night, she passed her hand through the hole. Alas! I
could not leave off kissing it, for I thought that I had never in my life
touched so soft, so delicate a hand. But what bliss when she begged for
mine! I quickly thrust my arm through the hole, so that she could fasten
her lips to the bend of the elbow. How many sweet liberties my hand
ventured to take! But we were at last compelled by prudence to separate,
and when I returned to my room I saw with great pleasure that the keeper
was fast asleep.

Although I was delighted at having obtained every favour I could possibly
wish for in the uncomfortable position we had been in, I racked my brain
to contrive the means of securing more complete enjoyment for the
following night, but I found during the afternoon that the feminine
cunning of my beautiful Greek was more fertile than mine.

Being alone in the yard with her master, she said a few words to him in
Turkish, to which he seemed to give his approval, and soon after a
servant, assisted by the keeper, brought under the balcony a large basket
of goods. She overlooked the arrangement, and in order to secure the
basket better, she made the servant place a bale of cotton across two
others. Guessing at her purpose, I fairly leaped for joy, for she had
found the way of raising herself two feet higher; but I thought that she
would then find herself in the most inconvenient position, and that,
forced to bend double, she would not be able to resist the fatigue. The
hole was not wide enough for her head to pass through, otherwise she
might have stood erect and been comfortable. It was necessary at all
events to guard against that difficulty; the only way was to tear out one
of the planks of the floor of the balcony, but it was not an easy
undertaking. Yet I decided upon attempting it, regardless of
consequences; and I went to my room to provide myself with a large pair
of pincers. Luckily the keeper was absent, and availing myself of the
opportunity, I succeeded in dragging out carefully the four large nails
which fastened the plank. Finding that I could lift it at my will, I
replaced the pincers, and waited for the night with amorous impatience.