 Chapter 5 Part A of the Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 1 by Jacques Mocazanova. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 1, The Venetian Years by Jacques Mocazanova, Episode 1, Childhood, Chapter 5, Part A. An unlucky night I fall in love with the two sisters and forget Angela, a ball at my house, Juliet's humiliation, my return to Pasean, Lucy's misfortune, a propitious storm. On my reappearance Madame Orio told me, with many heartfelt thanks, that I must for the future consider myself as a privileged and welcome friend, and the evening passed off very pleasantly. As the hour for supper drew near, I excused myself so well that Madame Orio could not insist upon my accepting her invitation to stay. Martin rose to light me out of the room, but her aunt, believing Nanette to be my favorite, gave her such an imperative order to accompany me that she was compelled to obey. She went down the stairs rapidly, opened and closed the street door very noisily, and putting her light out, she re-entered the sitting-room, leaving me in darkness. I went upstairs softly. When I reached the third landing, I found the chamber of the two sisters, and throwing myself upon a sofa, I waited patiently for the rising of the star of my happiness. An hour passed amidst the sweetest dreams of my imagination. At last I hear the noise of the street door opening and closing, and a few minutes after the two sisters come in with my Angela. I draw her towards me, and caring for nobody else, I keep up for two full hours my conversation with her. The clock strikes midnight. I am pitied for having gone so late supperless, but I am shocked at such an idea. I answer that which such happiness as I am enjoying I can suffer from no human want. I am told that I am a prisoner, that the key of the house door is under the aunt's pillow, and that it is opened only by herself as she goes in the morning to the first mass. I wonder at my young friend's imagining that such news can be anything but delightful to me. I express all my joy at the certainty of passing the next five hours with the beloved mistress of my heart. Another hour is spent when suddenly Nanette begins to laugh. Angela wants to know the reason, and Martin, whispering a few words to her, they both laugh likewise. This puzzles me. In my turn I want to know what causes this general laughter, and at last Nanette, putting on an air of anxiety, tells me that they have no more candle, and that in a few minutes we shall be in the dark. This is a piece of news particularly agreeable to me, but I do not let my satisfaction appear on my countenance, and saying how truly I am sorry for their sake, I propose that they should go to bed and sleep quietly under my respectful guardianship. My proposal increases their merriment. What can we do in the dark? We can talk. We were four. For the last three hours we had been talking, and I was the hero of the romance. Love is a great poet. Its resources are inexhaustible, but if the end it has in view is not obtained, it feels weary and remains silent. My Angela listened willingly, but little disposed to talk herself. She seldom answered, and she displayed good sense rather than wit. The week in the force of my arguments she was often satisfied with hurling at me a proverb, somewhat in the fashion of the Romans throwing the catapult. Every time that my poor hands came to the assistance of love she drew herself back or repulsed me. Yet in spite of all I went on talking and using my hands without losing courage. But I gave myself up to despair when I found that my rather artful arguing astounded her without bringing conviction to her heart, which was only disquieted, never softened. On the other hand I could see with astonishment upon their accountances the impression made upon the two sisters by the ardent speeches I poured out to Angela. This metaphysical curve struck me as unnatural. It ought to have been an angle. I was then unhappily for myself, studying geometry. I was in such a state that, notwithstanding the cold, I was perspiring profusely. At last the light was nearly out, and Nanette took it away. The moment we were in the dark I very naturally extended my arms to seize her whom I loved. But I only met with empty space, and I could not help laughing at the rapidity with which Angela had availed herself of the opportunity of escaping me. For one full hour I poured out all the tender, cheerful words that love inspired me with, to persuade her to come back to me. I could only suppose that it was a joke to tease me. But I became impatient. The joke, I said, has lasted long enough. It is foolish, as I could not run after you, and I am surprised to hear you laugh, for your strange conduct leads me to suppose that you are making fun of me. Come and take your seat near me, and, if I must speak to you without seeing you, let my hands assure me that I am not addressing my words to the empty air. To continue this game would be an insult to me, and my love does not deserve such a return. Well, be calm. I will listen to every word you may say, but you must feel that it would not be decent for me to place myself near you in this dark room. Do you want me to stand where I am until morning? Lie down on the bed, and go to sleep. I wonder, indeed, at your thinking me capable of doing so in the state I am in. Well, I suppose we must play at Blind Man's Buff. Thereupon I began to feel right and left everywhere, but in vain. Whenever I caught anyone, it always turned out to be Nanette or Martin, who had once discovered themselves, and I, stupid Don Quixote, instantly would let them go. Love and prejudice blinded me. I could not see how ridiculous I was with my respectful reserve. I had not yet read the anecdotes of Louis XIII, King of France, but I had read Boccaccio. I kept on seeking in vain, reproaching her with her cruelty, and in treating her to let me catch her. But she would only answer that the difficulty of meeting each other was mutual. The room was not large, and I was enraged at my want of success. But in still more vexed I sat down, and for the next hour I told the history of Roger when Angelica disappears through the power of the magic ring, which the loving knight had so imprudently given her. Così dicendo, intorno alla fortuna, Brancolando n'andava come ceco, o quante volte abraciolari avana, speyando la donzella abracar seco. Angela had not read Ariosto, but Nanette had done so several times. She undertook the defense of Angelica, and blamed the simplicity of Roger who, if he had been wise, would never have trusted the ring to a coquette. I was delighted with Nanette, but I was yet too much of a novice to apply her remarks to myself. Only one more hour remained, and I was to leave before the break of day, for Madame Oreo would have died rather than give way to the temptation of missing the early mass. During that hour I spoke to Angela, trying to convince her that she ought to come and sit by me. My soul went through every gradation of hope and despair, and the reader cannot possibly realize it unless he has been placed in a similar position. I exhausted the most convincing arguments. Then I had recourse to prayers, and even to tears, but seeing all was useless I gave way to that feeling of noble indignation which lends dignity to anger. Had I not been in the dark I might, I truly believe, have struck the proud monster. The cruel girl who had thus for five hours condemned me to the most distressing suffering. I poured out all the abuse, all the insulting words that despised love can suggest to an infuriated mind. I loaded her with the deepest curses, I swore that my love had entirely turned into hatred, and as a finale I advised her to be careful, as I would kill her the moment I would set my eyes on her. My invectives came to an end with the darkness. At the first break of day, and as soon as I heard the noise made by the bolt and the key of the street door, which Madame Oreo was opening to let herself out, that she might seek in the church the repose of which her pious soul was in need, I got myself ready and looked for my cloak and for my hat. But how can I ever portray the consternation in which I was thrown when, casting a sly glance upon the young friends, I found the three bathed in tears. In my shame and despair I thought of committing suicide and sitting down again I recollected my brutal speeches, and upbraided myself for having wantonly caused them to weep. I could not say one word. I felt choking. At last tears came to my assistance, and I gave way to a fit of crying which relieved me. Nanette then remarked that her aunt would soon return home. I dried my eyes, and, not venturing another look at Angela or at her friends, I ran away without uttering a word, and threw myself on my bed where sleep would not visit my troubled mind. At noon, am the Malipiero, noticing the change in my countenance, inquired what ailed me, and, longing to unburden my heart, I told them all that had happened. The wise old man did not laugh at my sorrow, but, by his sensible advice, he managed to console me and to give me courage. He was in the same predicament with the beautiful Therese. Yet he could not help giving way to his merriment when, at dinner, he saw me in spite of my grief, eat with increased appetite. I had gone without my supper the night before. He complimented me upon my happy constitution. I was determined never to visit Madame Oreos' house, and on that very day I held an argument in metaphysics in which I contended that any being of whom we had only an abstract idea could only exist abstractedly, and I was right, but it was a very easy task to give to my thesis an irreligious turn, and I was obliged to recant. A few days afterwards I went to Padua, where I took my degree of doctor, Utrocue Giure. When I returned to Venice, I received a note from M. Rosa, who entreated me to call upon Madame Oreos. She wished to see me, and, feeling certain of not meeting Angela, I paid her a visit the same evening. The two graceful sisters were so kind, so pleasant, that they scattered to the winds the shame I felt at seeing them after the fearful night I had passed in their room two months before. The labours of writing my thesis and passing my examination were, of course, sufficient excuses for Madame Oreos, who only wanted to reproach me for having remained so long away from her house. As I left, Nanette gave me a letter containing a note from Angela, the contents of which ran as follows. If you are not afraid of passing another night with me, you shall have no reason to complain of me, for I love you, and I wish to hear from your own lips whether you would still have loved me if I had consented to become contemptible in your eyes. This is the letter of Nanette, who alone had her wits about her. M. Rosa, having undertaken to bring you back to our house, I prepare these few lines to let you know that Angela isn't despair at having lost you. I confess that the night you spent with us was a cruel one, but I do not think that you did rightly in giving up your visits to Madame Oreos. If you still feel any love for Angela, I advise you to take your chances once more. Accept the rendezvous for another night. She may vindicate herself, and you will be happy. Believe me, come, farewell. Those two letters afforded me much gratification, for I had it in my power to enjoy my revenge by showing to Angela the coldest contempt. Therefore on the following Sunday I went to Madame Oreos' house, having provided myself with a smoked tongue and a couple of bottles of Cypress wine. But to my great surprise my cruel mistress was not there. Nanette told me that she had met her at church in the morning, and that she would not be able to come before supper time. According to that promise I declined Madame Oreos' invitation, and before the family sat down to supper I left the room as I had done on the former occasion and slipped upstairs. I longed to represent the character I had prepared myself for, and feeling assured that Angela, even if she should prove less cruel, would only grant me insignificant favors, I despised them in anticipation and resolved to be avenged. After waiting three-quarters of an hour the street door was locked, and a moment later Nanette and Martin entered the room. Where is Angela, I inquired. She must have been unable to come or to send a message, yet she knows you are here. She thinks that she has made a fool of me, but I suspected she would act in this way. You know her now. She is trifling with me, and very likely she is now reveling in her triumph. She has made use of you to allure me in this snare, and it is all the better for her. Had she come I meant to have had my turn, and to have laughed at her. You must allow me to have my doubts as to that. Let me not, beautiful Nanette. The pleasant night we are going to spend without her must convince you. That is to say that, as a man of sense, you can accept us as a makeshift, but you can sleep here, and my sister can lie with me on the sofa in the next room. I cannot hinder you, but it would be great unkindness on your part. At all events I do not intend to go to bed. What? You would have the courage to spend seven hours alone with us? Why, I am certain that in a short time you will be at a loss what to say, and you will fall asleep. Well, we shall see. In the meantime here are our provisions. You will not be so cruel as to let me eat alone. Can you get any bread? Yes, and to please you we must have a second supper. I ought to be in love with you. Tell me, beautiful Nanette, if I were as much attached to you as I was to Angela, would you follow her example and make me unhappy? How can you ask such a question? It is worthy of a conceited man. All I can answer is that I do not know what I would do. They laid the cloth, brought some bread, some parmesan cheese and water, and, during all the while, and then we went to work. The wine to which they were not accustomed went to their heads, and their gay tea was soon delightful. I wondered, as I looked at them, at my having been blind enough not to see their merit. After our supper, which was delicious, I sat between them, holding their hands, which I pressed to my lips, asking them whether they were truly my friends, and whether they approved of Angela's conduct towards me. They both answered that it had made them shed many tears. Then let me, I said, have for you the tender feelings of a brother, and share those feelings yourselves as if you were my sisters. Let us exchange in all innocence, proofs of our mutual affection, and swear to each other an eternal fidelity. The first kiss I gave them was prompted by entirely harmless motives, and they returned the kiss, as they assured me a few days afterwards, only to prove to me that they reciprocated my brotherly feelings. But those innocent kisses, as we repeated them, very soon became ardent ones, and kindled a flame which certainly took us by surprise, for we stopped, as by common consent, after a short time looking at each other very much astonished and rather serious. They both left me without affectation, and I remained alone with my thoughts. Indeed it was natural that the burning kisses I had given and received should have sent through me the fire of passion, and that I should suddenly have fallen madly in love with the two amiable sisters. Both were handsomer than Angela, and they were superior to her, Nanette by her charming wit, Martin by her sweet and simple nature. I could not understand how I had been so long in rendering them the justice they deserved, but they were the innocent daughters of a noble family, and the lucky chance which had thrown them in my way ought not to prove a calamity for them. I was not vain enough to suppose that they loved me, but I could well enough admit that my kisses had influenced them in the same manner that their kisses had influenced me, and, believing this to be the case, it was evident that, with a little cunning on my part, and of sly practices of which they were ignorant, I could easily, during the long night I was going to spend with them, obtain favors, the consequences of which might be very positive. The very thought made me shudder, and I firmly resolved to respect their virtue, never dreaming that circumstances might prove too strong for me. When they returned, I read upon their countenances perfect security and satisfaction, and I quickly put on the same appearance with a full determination not to expose myself again to the danger of their kisses. For one hour we spoke of Angela, and I expressed my determination never to see her again, as I had every proof that she did not care for me. She loves you, said the artless Martin. I know she does, but if you do not mean to marry her, you will do well to give up all intercourse with her, for she is quite determined not to grant you even a kiss, as long as you are not her acknowledged suitor. You must therefore either give up the acquaintance altogether, or make up your mind that she will refuse you everything. You argue very well, but how do you know that she loves me? I am quite sure of it, and as you have promised to be our brother, I can tell you why I have that conviction. When Angela is in bed with me, she embraces me lovingly and calls me her dear Abbey. The words were scarcely spoken when Nanette, laughing heartily, placed her hand on her sister's lips, but the innocent confession had such an effect upon me that I could hardly control myself. Martin told Nanette that I could not possibly be ignorant of what takes place between young girls sleeping together. There is no doubt, I said, that everybody knows those trifles, and I do not think, dear Nanette, that you ought to reproach your sister with indiscretion for her friendly confidence. It cannot be helped now, but such things ought not to be mentioned, if Angela knew it. She would be vexed, of course, but Martin has given me a mark of her friendship, which I never can forget. But it is all over. I hate Angela, and I do not mean to speak to her any more. She is false, and she wishes my ruin. Yet, loving you, is she wrong to think of having you for her husband? Granted that she is not, but she thinks only of her own self. For she knows what I suffer, and her conduct would be very different if she loved me. In the meantime, thanks to her imagination, she finds the means of satisfying her senses with a charming Martin who kindly performs the part of her husband. Nanette laughed louder, but I kept very serious, and I went on talking to her sister and praising her sincerity. I said that very likely, and to reciprocate her kindness, Angela must likewise have been her husband, but she answered with a smile that Angela played husband only to Nanette, and Nanette could not deny it. But, said I, what name did Nanette in her rapture give to her husband? Nobody knows. Do you love anyone, Nanette? I do, but my secret is my own. This reserve gave me the suspicion that I had something to do with her secret, and that Nanette was the rival of Angela. Such a delightful conversation caused me to lose the wish of passing an idle night with two girls so well made for love. It is very lucky, I exclaimed, that I have for you only feelings of friendship. Otherwise, it would be very hard to pass the night without giving way to the temptation of bestowing upon you proofs of my affection, for you are both so lovely, so bewitching, that you would turn the brains of any man. As I went on talking, I pretended to be somewhat sleepy. Nanette, being the first to notice it, said, Go to bed without any ceremony. We will lie down on the sofa in the adjoining room. I would be a very poor spirited fellow indeed if I agreed to this. Let us talk. My sleepiness will soon pass off, but I am anxious about you. Go to bed yourselves, my charming friends, and I will go into the next room. If you are afraid of me, lock the door, but you would do me an injustice, for I feel only a brother's yearnings towards you. We cannot accept such an arrangement, said Nanette, but let me persuade you, take this bed. I cannot sleep with my clothes on. Undress yourself, we will not look at you. I have no fear of it, but how could I find the heart to sleep, while on my account you are compelled to sit up? Well, said Martin, we can lie down, too, without undressing. If you show me such distrust, you will offend me. Tell me, Nanette, do you think I am an honest man? Most certainly. Well then, give me a proof of your good opinion. Lie down near me in the bed, undressed, and rely on my word of honor that I will not even lay a finger upon you. Besides, you are two against one. What can you fear? Will you not be free to get out of the bed in case I should not keep quiet? In short, unless you consent to give me this mark of your confidence in me, at least when I have fallen asleep, I cannot go to bed. I said no more and pretended to be very sleepy. They exchanged a few words, whispering to each other, and Martin told me to go to bed, that they would follow me as soon as I was asleep. Nanette made me the same promise. I turned my back to them, undressed myself quickly, and wishing them good night, I went to bed. I immediately pretended to fall asleep, but soon I dozed and good earnest, and only woke when they came to bed. Then, turning around as if I wished to resume my slumbers, I remained very quiet until I could suppose them fast asleep. At all events, if they did not sleep, they were at liberty to pretend to do so. Their backs were towards me, and the light was out. Therefore, I could only act at random, and I paid my first compliments to the one who was lying on my right, not knowing whether she was Nanette or Martin. I find her bent in two, and wrapped up in the only garment she had kept on. During my time and sparing her modesty, I compel her by degrees to acknowledge her defeat and convince her that it is better to faint sleep and to let me proceed. Her natural instincts, soon working in concert with mine, I reached the goal. And my efforts, crowned with the most complete success, leave me not the shadow of a doubt that I have gathered those first fruits to which our prejudice makes us attach so great and importance. And raptured at having enjoyed my manhood completely and for the first time, I quietly leave my beauty in order to do homage to the other sister. I find her motionless, lying on her back like a person wrapped in profound and undisturbed slumber. Carefully manage my advance as if I were afraid of waking her up, I begin by gently gratifying her senses, and I ascertain that the delightful fact that, like her sister, she is still in possession of her maidenhood. As soon as a natural movement proves to me that love accepts the offering, I take my measure to consummate the sacrifice. At that moment, given way suddenly to the violence of her feelings, and tired of her assumed assimilation, she warmly locks me in her arms at the very instant of the voluptuous crisis, smothers me with kisses, shares my raptures, and love blends our souls in the most ecstatic enjoyment. Guessing her to be Nanette, I whisper her name. Yes, I am Nanette, she answers, and I declare myself happy, as well as my sister, if you prove yourself true and faithful. Until death, my beloved ones, and as everything we have done is the work of love, do not let us ever mention the name of Angela. After this I beg that she would give us a light, but Martin, always kind and obliging, got out of bed leaving us alone. When I saw Nanette in my arms beaming with love, and Martin near the bed holding a candle, with her eyes reproaching us with ingratitude, because we did not speak to her, who, by accepting my first caresses, had encouraged her sister to follow her example, I realized all my happiness. Chapter 5 Part B of the Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 1, by Giacomo Casanova. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 1. The Venetian Years by Giacomo Casanova, Episode 1, Childhood. Chapter 5 Part B Let us get up, my darlings, said I, and swear to each other eternal affection. When we had risen we performed, all three together, ablutions which made them laugh a good deal, and which gave a new impetus to the ardor of our feelings. Being up in the simple costume of nature, we ate the remains of our supper, exchanging those thousand trifling words which love alone can understand, and we again retired to our bed, where we spent the most delightful night, giving each other mutual and oft-repeated proofs of our passionate ardor. Annette was the recipient of my last bounties, for Madame Oreo having left the house to go to church, I had to hasten my departure, after assuring the two lovely sisters that they had effectually extinguished whatever flame might still have flickered in my heart for Angela. I went home and slept soundly until dinner time. M. de Manipiero passed a remark upon my cheerful looks and the dark circles around my eyes, but I kept my own counsel and I allowed him to think whatever he pleased. On the following day I paid a visit to Madame Oreo, and Angela not being of the party, I remained to supper and retired with M. Rosa. During the evening, Annette contrived to give me a letter and a small parcel. The parcel contained a small lump of wax, with a stamp of a key, and the letter told me to have a key made, and to use it to enter the house whenever I wished to spend the night with them. She informed me at the same time that Angela had slept with them the night following our adventures, and that, thanks to their mutual and usual practices, she had guessed the real state of things that they had not denied it, adding that it was all her fault and that Angela, after abusing them most vehemently, had sworn never again to darken their doors, but they did not care a jot. A few days afterwards, our good fortune delivered us from Angela. She was taken to Vicenza by her father, who had removed there, for a couple of years, having been engaged to paint frescoes in some houses in that city. Thanks to her absence, I found myself undisturbed possessor of the two charming sisters, with whom I spent at least two nights every week finding no difficulty in entering the house with the key which I had speedily procured. Carnival was nearly over when M. Manzoni informed me one day that the celebrated Juliet wished to see me and regretted much that I had seized to visit her. I felt curious as to what she had to say to me, and accompanied him to her house. She received me very politely, and remarking that she had heard of a large hall I had in my house, she said she would like to give a ball there, if I would give her the use of it. I readily consented, and she handed me twenty-four sequins for the supper and for the band, undertaking to send people to place chandeliers in the hall and in my other rooms. M. the son Vitale had left Venice, and the Parmesan government had placed his estates in chancery, in consequence of his extravagant expenditure. I met him at Versailles ten years afterwards. He wore the insignia of the king's order of night-hood, and was grand-equery to the eldest daughter of Louis XV, Duchess of Parma, who, like all French princesses, could not be reconciled to the climate of Italy. The ball took place and went off splendidly. All the guests belonged to Juliet's set, with the exception of M. Orio, her nieces, and the procurator Rosa, who sat together in the room adjoining the hall, in whom I had been permitted to introduce as persons of no consequence, whatever. While the after supper minouettes were being danced, Juliet took me apart and said, Take me to your bedroom. I have just got an amusing idea. My room was on the third story, I showed her the way. The moment we entered, she bolted the door much to my surprise. I wish you, she said, to dress me up in your ecclesiastical clothes, and I will disguise you as a woman with my own things. We will go down and dance together. Come, let us first dress our hair. Feeling sure of something pleasant to come, and delighted with such an unusual adventure, I lose no time in arranging her hair, and I let her afterwards dress mine. She applies rouge and a few beauty spots to my face. I humor her in everything, and to prove her satisfaction she gives me the best of grace, a very loving kiss, on condition that I do not ask for anything else. As you please, beautiful Juliet, but I give you, do notice that I adore you. I place upon my bed a shirt, an abby's neck band, a pair of drawers, black silk stockings, in fact a complete fit-out. Coming near the bed, Juliet drops her skirt and cleverly gets into the drawers, which were not a bad fit, but when she comes to the breeches there is some difficulty. The waistband is too narrow, and the only remedy is to rip it behind or to cut it, if necessary. Now I undertake to make everything right, and as I sit on the foot of my bed she places herself in front of me with her back towards me. I begin my work, but she thinks that I want to see too much, that I am not skillful enough, and that my fingers wander in unnecessary places. She gets fidgety, leaves me, tears the breeches, and manages in her own way. Then I help her to put her shoes on, and I pass the shirt over her head. But, as I am disposing the ruffle and the neckband, she complains of my hands being too curious, and in truth her bosom was rather scanty. She calls me a naïve and rascal, but I take no notice of her. I was not going to be duped, and I thought that a woman who had been paid one hundred thousand ducats was well worth some study. At last, her toilet being completed, my turn comes. In spite of her objections I quickly get rid of my breeches, and she must put on me the chemise, then a skirt, in a word she has to dress me up. But, all at once, plain the coquette. She gets angry, because I do not conceal from her looks that very apparent proof that her charms have some effect on a particular part of my being, and she refuses to grant me the favor which would soon afford both relief and calm. I try to kiss her, and she repulses me, whereupon I lose patience, and in spite of herself she has to witness the last stage of my excitement. At the sight of this, she pours out every insulting word she can think of. I endeavour to prove that she is to blame, but it is all in vain. However, she is compelled to complete my disguise. There is no doubt that an honest woman would not have exposed herself to such an adventure, unless she had intended to prove her tender feelings, and that she would not have drawn back at the very moment she saw them shared by her companion. But women like Juliet are often guided by a spirit of contradiction which causes them to act against her own interests. Besides, she felt disappointed when she found out that I was not timid, and my want of restraint appeared to her a want of respect. She would not have objected to my stealing a few light favors which she would have allowed me to take, as being of no importance, but, by doing that, I should have flattered her vanity too highly. Our disguise being complete, we went together to the dancing hall, where the enthusiastic applause of the guests soon restored our good temper. Everybody gave me credit for a piece of fortune which I had not enjoyed, but I was not ill pleased with the rumour, and went on dancing with the false Abbey, who was only too charming. Juliet treated me so well during the night that I construed her manners towards me into some sort of repentance, and I almost regretted what had taken place between us. It was a momentary weakness for which I was sorely punished. At the end of the quadril, all the men thought they had a right to take liberties with the Abbey, and I became myself rather free with the young girls, who would have been afraid of exposing themselves to ridicule had they offered any opposition to my caresses. M. Corrini was foolish enough to inquire from me whether I had kept on my breeches, and, as I answered that I had been compelled to lend them to Juliet, he looked very unhappy, sat down in a corner of the room, and refused to dance. Every one of the guests soon remarked that I had on a woman's chemise, and nobody entertained a doubt of the sacrifice having been consummated, with the exception of Nanette and Martin, who could not imagine the possibility of my being unfaithful to them. Juliet perceived that she had been guilt of great imprudence, but it was too late to remedy the evil. When we returned to my chamber upstairs, thinking that she had repented of her previous behaviour, and feeling some desire to possess her, I thought I would kiss her, and I took hold of her hand, saying, I was disposed to give her every satisfaction. But she quickly slapped my face in so violent a manner that in my indignation I was very near returning the compliment. I undressed myself rapidly, without looking at her. She did the same, and we came downstairs. But in spite of the cold water I had applied to my cheek, everyone could easily see the stamp of the large hand which had come in contact with my face. Before leaving the house, Juliet took me apart and told me in the most decided and impressive manner that if I had any fancy for being thrown out of the window I could enjoy that pleasure whenever I like to enter her dwelling, and that she would have me murdered if this night's adventure ever became publicly known. I took care not to give her any cause for the execution of either of her threats, but I could not prevent the fact of our having exchanged shirts being rather notorious. As I was not seen at her house, it was generally supposed that she had been compelled by M. Querini to keep me at a distance. The reader will see how, six years later, this extraordinary woman thought proper to feign entire forgetfulness of this adventure. I passed Lent partly in the company of my loved ones, partly in the study of experimental physics at the convent of the salutation. My evenings were always given to M. de Malipiero's assemblies. At Easter, in order to keep the promise I had made to the Countess of Montréal, and longing to see again my beautiful Lucie, I went to Pasean. I found the guests entirely different to the set I had met the previous autumn. Count Daniel, the eldest of the family, had married a Contes Gotsi and a young and wealthy government official who had married a good daughter of the old Countess, was there with his wife and his sister-in-law. I thought the supper very long. The same room had been given to me, and I was burning to see Lucie, whom I did not intend to treat any more like a child. I did not see her before going to bed, but I expected her early in the morning, when low, instead of her pretty face brightening my eyes, I see standing before me a fat, ugly servant girl. I inquire after the gatekeeper's family, but her answer is given in the peculiar dialect of the place, and is, of course, unintelligible to me. I wonder what has become of Lucie. I fancy that our intimacy has been found out. I fancy that she is ill, dead perhaps. I dress myself with the intention of looking for her. If she has been forbidden to see me, I think to myself, I will be even with them all, for somehow or other I will contrive the means of speaking to her, and out of spite I will do with her that which honour prevented love from accomplishing. As I was revolving such thoughts, the gatekeeper comes in with a sorrowful countenance. I inquire after his wife's health and after his daughter, but at the name of Lucie his eyes are filled with tears. What! Is she dead? What to God she were! What has she done? She has run away with Count Daniel's courier, and we have been unable to trace her anywhere. His wife comes in at the moment he replies, and at these words which renewed her grief, the poor woman feigns away. The keeper, seeing how sincerely I felt for his misery, tells me that this great misfortune befell them only a week before my arrival. I know that man Legle, I say, he is a scoundrel. Did he ask to marry Lucie? No. He knew well enough that our consent would have been refused. I wonder at Lucie acting in such a way. He seduced her, and her running away made us suspect the truth, for she had become very stout. Had he known her long? About a month after your last visage she saw him for the first time. He must have thrown a spell over her, for our Lucie was as pure as a dove, and you can, I believe, bear testimony to her goodness. And no one knows where they are. No one, God alone knows what this villain will do with her. I grieved as much as the unfortunate parents. I went out and took a long ramble in the woods to give way to my sad feelings. During two hours I cogitated over considerations, some true, some false, which were all prefaced by an if. If I had paid this visit, as I might have done a week sooner, loving Lucie would have confided in me, and I would have prevented that self-murder. If I had acted with her as with Nanette and Martin, she would not have been left by me in that state of ardent excitement, which must have proved the principal cause of her fault, and she would not have fallen a prey to that scoundrel. If she had not known me before meeting the courier, her innocent soul would never have listened to such a man. I was in despair, for in my conscience I acknowledged myself the primary agent of this infamous seduction. I had prepared the way for the villain. Had I known where to find Lucie, I would certainly have gone forth on the instant to seek for her, but no trace whatsoever of her whereabouts had been discovered. Before I had been made acquainted with Lucie's misfortune, I felt great pride at having had sufficient power over myself to respect her innocence, but after hearing what had happened, I was ashamed of my own reserve, and I promised myself that for the future I would, on that score, act more wisely. I felt truly miserable when my imagination painted the probability of the unfortunate girl being left to the poverty and shame, cursing the remembrance of me and hating me as the first cause of her misery. This fatal event caused me to adopt a new system, which in after years I carried sometimes rather too far. I joined the cheerful guests of the Countess in the gardens, and received such a welcome that I was soon again in my usual spirits, and at dinner I delighted everyone. My sorrow was so great that it was necessary either to drive it away at once or to leave Pazian, but a new life crept into my being as I examined the face and the disposition of the newly married lady. Her sister was pretty here, but I was beginning to feel afraid of a novice, I thought the work too great. This newly married lady, who was between nineteen and twenty years of age, drew upon herself everybody's attention by her overstrained and unnatural manners. A great talker, with a memory crammed with maxims and precepts often without sense, but to which she loved to make a show, very devout and so jealous of her husband that she did not conceal her vexation when he expressed his satisfaction at being seated at table opposite her sister. She laid herself open to much ridicule. Her husband was a giddy young fellow who perhaps felt very deep affection for his wife, but who imagined that through good breeding he ought to appear very indifferent, and whose vanity found pleasure in giving her constant causes for jealousy. She in turn had a great dread of passing for an idiot if she did not show her appreciation of and her resentment for his conduct. She felt uneasy in the midst of good company precisely because she wished to appear thoroughly at home. If I prattled away with some of my thrilling nonsense she would stare at me, and in her anxiety not to be thought stupid she would laugh out of season. Her oddity, her awkwardness, and her self-conceit gave me the desire to know her better, when I began to dance attendance upon her. My attentions, important and unimportant, my constant care, every my properties, let everybody know that I meditated conquest. The husband was duly warned, but with a great show of intrepidity he answered me with a joke every time he was told that I was a formidable rival. On my side I assumed a modest and even sometimes a careless appearance when, to show his freedom from jealousy, he excited me to make love to his wife who, on her part, understood but little how to perform the part of fancy free. I had been paying my address to her for five or six days with great constancy. Then, taking a walk with her in the garden, she imprudently confided to me the reason of her anxiety respecting her husband, and how wrong he was to give her any cause for jealousy. I told her, speaking as an old friend, that the best way to punish him would be to take no apparent notice of her, husband's preference for her sister, and to feign to be herself in love with me. In order to entice her more easily to follow my advice, I added that I was well aware of my plan being a very difficult one to carry out, and that to play successfully such a character a woman must be particularly witty. I had touched her weak point, and she exclaimed that she would play the part to perfection. But in spite of her self-confidence, she acquitted herself so badly that everybody understood that the plan was of my own scheming. If I happened to be alone with her in the dark paths of the garden, and tried to make her play her part in real earnest, she would take the dangerous step of running away and rejoining the other guests, the result being that, on my reappearance, I was called a bad sportsman who frightened the bird away. I would not fail at the first opportunity to reproach her for her flight, and to represent the triumph she had thus prepared for her spouse. I praised her mind, but lamented over the shortcomings of her education. I said that the tone, the manners I adopted towards her, were those of good society, and proved the greatest theme I entertained for her intelligence. But in the middle of all my fine speeches, towards the eleventh or twelfth day of my courtship, she suddenly put me out of all conceit by telling me that, being a priest, I ought to know that every amorous connection was a deadly sin, that God could see every action of his creatures, and that she would neither damn her soul nor place herself under the necessity of saying to her confessor that she had so far forgotten herself as to commit such a sin with a priest. I objected that I was not yet a priest, but she foiled me by inquiring point-blank whether or not the act I had in view was to be numbered amongst the cardinal sins, for not feeling the courage to deny it, I felt that I must give up the argument and put an end to the adventure. A little consideration having considerably calmed my feelings, everybody remarked by new countenance during dinner, and the old count, who was very fond of a joke, expressed loudly his opinion that such a quiet demeanor on my part announced the complete success of my campaign. Considering such a remark to be favourable to me, I took care to spew my cruel devotee that such was the way the world would judge, but all this was lost labour. Luck, however, stood me in good stead, and my efforts were crowned with success in the following manner. On Ascension Day we all went to pay a visit to Madame Bergali, a celebrated Italian poetess. On my return to Pasean the same evening my pretty mistress wished to get into a carriage for four persons in which her husband and sister were already seated, while I was alone in a two-wheeled sheath. I exclaimed at this, saying that such a mark of distrust was indeed two-pointed, and everybody remonstrated with her, saying that she ought not to insult me so cruelly. She was compelled to come with me, and having told the postiliel that I wanted to go by the nearest road, he left the other carriages, and took the way through the forest of Cicconi. The sky was clear and cloudless when we left, but in less than half an hour we were visited by one of those storms so frequent in the south, which appeared likely to overthrow heaven and earth, and which end rapidly, leaving behind them a bright sky and a cool atmosphere so that they do more good than harm. O heavens, exclaimed my companion, we shall have a storm! Yes, I say, and although the sheath is covered, the rain will spoil your pretty dress. I am very sorry. I do not mind the dress, but the thunder frightens me so. Close your ears. And the lightning? Possean, let us go somewhere for shelter. There is not a house, sir, for a league, and before we come to it the storm will have passed off. He quietly keeps on his way, and the lightning flashes, a thunder sends forth its mighty voice, and the lady shudders with fright. The rain comes down in torrents. I take off my cloak to shelter us in front. At the same moment we are blinded by a flash of lightning, and the electric fluid strikes the earth within one hundred yards of us. The horses plunge in prance with fear, and my companion falls in spasmodic convulsions. She throws herself upon me, and folds me in her arms. The cloak had gone down. I stoop to place it around us, and improving my opportunity, I take up her clothes. She tries to pull them down, but another clap of thunder deprives her of every particle of strength. Having her with the cloak, I draw her towards me, and the motion of the sheaths coming to my assistance, she falls over me in the most favorable position. I lose no time, and at the pretense of arranging my watch and my fob, I prepare myself for the assault. On her side, conscious that, unless she stops me at once, all is lost. She makes a great effort, but I hold her tightly, saying that if she does not feign a fainting fit, the post-boy will turn round and see everything. I let her enjoy the pleasure of calling me an infidel, a monster, anything she likes, but my victory is the most complete that ever a champion achieved. The rain, however, was falling, the wind, which was very high, blew in our faces and compelled to stay where she was, she said I would ruin her reputation as the postion could see everything. I keep my eye upon him, I answered. He is not thinking of us, and even if he should turn his head, the cloak shelters us from him. Be quiet and pretend to have fainted, for I will not let you go. She seems resigned and asks how I can thus set the storm at defiance. The storm, dear one, is my best friend today. She almost seems to believe me, her fear vanishes, and feeling my rapture she inquires whether I have done. I smile and answer in the negative, stating that I cannot let her go till the storm is over. Look to everything, or I let the cloak drop, I say to her. Well, you dreadful man, are you satisfied now that you have insured my misery for the remainder of my life? No, not yet. What more do you want? A shower of kisses. How unhappy I am! Well, here they are. Tell me you forgive me and confess that you have shared all my pleasure. You know I did. Yes, I forgive you. Then I give her her liberty, and treating her to some very pleasant caresses, I ask her to have the same kindness for me, and she goes to work with a smile on her pretty lips. Tell me you love me, I say to her. No, I do not, for you are an atheist, and health awaits you. The weather was fine again, and the elements calm. I kissed her hands, and told her that the pastillon had certainly not seen anything, and that I was sure I had cured her of her dread of thunder, but that she was not likely to reveal the secret of my remedy. She answered that one thing at least was certainly, namely that no other woman had ever been cured by the same prescription. Why, I say, the same remedy has very likely been applied a million of times within the last thousand years. To tell the truth, I had somewhat depended upon it when we entered the sheaest together, for I did not know any other way of obtaining the happiness of possessing you, but console yourself with belief that, placed in the same position, no frightened woman could have resisted. I believe you, but for the future I will travel only with my husband. You would be wrong, for your husband would not have been clever enough to cure your fright in the way I have done. True again, one learns some curious things in your company, but we shall not travel tet-a-tet again. And my fair mistress ran off to her chamber while I was looking for a crown for the pastillon. I saw that he was grinning. What are you laughing at? Oh, you know. Here take this dukkah and keep a quiet tongue in your head. End of chapter 5 part b. Chapter 6 of the Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, volume 1, by Jacques Casanova. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, volume 1, The Venetian Years, by Jacques Casanova. Episode 1, Childhood, Chapter 6. My grandmother's death and its consequences. I lose M. de Malipiero's friendship. I have no longer a home, la tintoretta, I am sent to a clerical seminary, I am expelled from it, and confined in a fortress. During supper the conversation turned altogether upon the storm, and the official who knew the weakness of his wife told me that he was quite certain I would never travel with her again. Nor I with him, his wife remarked, for in his fearful impiety he exercised a lightning with jokes. Henceforth she avoided me so skillfully that I never could contrive another interview with her. When I returned to Venice I found my grandmother ill, and I had to change all my habits, for I loved her too dearly not to surround her with every care and attention. I never left her until she had breathed her last. She was unable to leave with me anything, for during her life she had given me all she could, and her death compelled me to adopt an entirely different mode of life. A month after her death I received a letter from my mother informing me that as there was no probability of her return to Venice she had determined to give up the house and rent of which she was still paying, that she had communicated her intention to the Abbe Grimani and that I was to be guided entirely by his advice. He was instructed to sell the furniture and to place me as well as my brothers and my sister in a good boarding house. I called upon Grimani to assure him of my perfect disposition to obey his commands. The rent of the house had been paid until the end of the year, but as I was aware that the furniture would be sold on the expiration of the term, I placed my wants under no restraint. I had already sold some linen, most of the china, and several tapestries. I now began to dispose of the mirrors, beds, etc. I had no doubt that my conduct would be severely blamed, but I knew likewise that it was my father's inheritance to which my mother had no claim whatever, and as to my brothers there was plenty of time before my explanation could take place between them. Four months afterwards I had a second letter from my mother dated from Warsaw and enclosing another. Here is the translation of my mother's letter. My dear son, I have made here the acquaintance of a learned Menim Friar, a Collabrian by birth, whose great qualities have made me think of you every time he has honored me with a visit. A year ago I told him that I had a son who was preparing himself for the church, but that I had not the means of keeping him during his studies, and he promised that my son would become his own child if I could obtain for him from the Queen a bishopric in his native country, and he added that it would be very easy to succeed if I could induce the sovereign to recommend him to her daughter the Queen of Naples. Full of trust in the Almighty I threw myself at the feet of Her Majesty who granted me her gracious protection. She wrote to her daughter, and the worthy Friar has been appointed by the Pope to the bishopric of Monterano. Faithful to his promise the good bishop will take you with him about the middle of next year, as he passes through Venice to reach Calabria. He informs you himself of his intentions in the enclosed letter. Enter him immediately, my dear son, and forward your letter to me. I will deliver it to the bishop. He will pave your way to the highest dignities of the church, and you may imagine my consolation if, in some twenty or thirty years, I had the happiness of seeing you at least. Until his arrival, M. Grimani will take care of you. I give you my blessing, and I am my dear child, etc., etc. The bishop's letter was written in Latin, and was only a repetition of my mother's. It was full of unction, and informed me that he would tarry but three days in Venice. I answered according to my mother's wishes, but those two letters had turned my brain. I looked upon my fortune as made. I longed to enter the road which was to lead me to it, and I congratulated myself that I could leave my country without any regret. Farewell, Venice, I exclaimed, but days for vanity are gone by, and in the future I will only think of a great of a substantial career. M. Grimani congratulated me warmly on my good luck, and promised all his friendly care to secure a good boarding-house, to which I would go at the beginning of the year, and where I would wait for the bishop's arrival. M. De Maripiero, who in his own way had great wisdom, and who saw that in Venice I was plunging headlong into pleasures and dissipation, and was only wasting a precious time, was delighted to see me on the eve of going somewhere else to fulfill my destiny, and much pleased with my ready acceptance of those new circumstances in my life. He read me a lesson which I have never forgotten. The famous precept of the Stoic philosophers he said to me, Sequere Deum, can be perfectly explained by these words, give yourself up to whatever fate offers to you, provided you do not feel an invincible repugnance to accept it. He added that it was the genius of Socrates, Sepei revocant's raro impellence, and that it was the origin of the Fatta Viam Invenient of the same philosophers. M. De Maripiero's science was embodied in that very lesson, for he had obtained his knowledge by the study of only one book, the book of man. However, as if it were to give me the proof that perfection does not exist, and that there is a bad side as well as a good one to everything, a certain adventure happened to me a month afterwards which, although I was following his own maxims, cost me the loss of his friendship, and which certainly did not teach me anything. The senator fancied that he could trace upon the physiognomy of young people certain signs which marked them out as the special favourites of fortune. When he imagined that he had discovered those signs upon any individual, he would take him in hand and instruct him how to assist fortune by good and wise principles. And he used to say, with a great deal of truth, that a good remedy would turn into poison in the hands of a fool, but that poison is a good remedy when administered by a learned man. He had, in my time, three favourites in whose education he took great pains. They were besides myself, Therese Imre, with whom the reader has a slight acquaintance already, and the third was the daughter of the boatman Gardella, a girl three years younger than I, who had the prettiest and most fascinating countenance. The speculative old man, in order to assist fortune in her particular case, made her learn dancing for, he would say, the ball cannot reach the pocket unless someone pushes it. This girl made a great reputation at Stuttgart under the name of Augusta. She was the favourite mistress of the Duke of Wurttemberg in 1757. She was a most charming woman. The last time I saw her, she was in Venice, and she died two years afterwards. Her husband, Michel de la Gata, poisoned himself a short time after her death. One day we had all three dined with him, and after dinner the senator left us, as was his want to enjoy his siesta. The little Gardella, having a dancing lesson to take, went away soon after him, and I found myself alone with Therese, whom I rather admired, although I had never made love to her. We were sitting down at the table very near each other, with our backs to the door of the room in which we thought our patron fast asleep, and somehow or other we took a fancy to examine into the difference of conformation between a girl and a boy. But at the most interesting part of our study, a violent blow on my shoulders from a stick, followed by another, and which would have been itself followed by many more if I had not ran away, compelled us to abandon our interesting investigation unfinished. I got off without hat or cloak and went home, but in less than a quarter of an hour the old housekeeper of the senator brought my clothes with a letter which contained a command never to present myself again at the mansion of his Excellency. I immediately wrote him an answer in the following terms. You have struck me while you were the slave of your anger. You cannot therefore boast of having given me a lesson, and I have not learned anything. To forgive you I must forget, that you are a man of great wisdom, and I can never forget it. This nobleman was perhaps quite right not to be pleased with the sight we gave him, yet with all his prudence he proved himself very unwise, for all the servants were acquainted with the cause of my exile, and, of course, the adventure was soon known through the city, and was received with great merriment. He dared not address any reproaches to Therese, as I heard from her soon after, but she could not venture to entreat him to pardon me. The time to leave my father's house was drawing near, and one fine morning I received the visit of a man about forty years old, with a black wig, a scarlet cloak, and a very swarthy complexion, who handed me a letter from M. Grimani, ordering me to consign to the bearer all the furniture of the house according to the inventory, a copy of which was in my possession. Taking the inventory in my hand I pointed out every article marked down, except when the said article having through my instrumentality taken and airing out of the house happened to be missing, and whenever any article was absent I said that I had not the slightest idea where it might be. But the uncouth fellow, taken very high note, said loudly that he must know what I had done with the furniture. His manner being very disagreeable to me, I answered that I had nothing to do with him, and as he still raised his voice I advised him to take himself off as quickly as possible, and I gave him that piece of advice in such a way as to prove him that, at home, I knew I was the most powerful of the two. Feeling it in my duty to give information to M. Grimani of what had just taken place, I called him as soon as he was up, but I found that my man was already there and that he had given his own account of the affair. The abbey, after a very severe lecture to which I had to listen in silence, ordered me to render an account of all the missing articles. I answered that I had found myself under the necessity of selling them to avoid running into debt. This confession threw him in a violent passion. He called me a rascal, said that those things did not belong to me, that he knew what he had to do, and he commanded me to leave his house on the very instant. Mad with rage I ran for a Jew to whom I wanted to sell what remained of the furniture, but when I returned to my house I found a bailiff waiting at the door, and he handed me a summons. I looked over it and perceived that it was issued at the instance of Antonio Razetta. It was the name of the fellow with the swarthy countenance. The seals were already affixed on all the doors, and I was not even allowed to go to my room, for a keeper had been left there by the bailiff. I lost no time, and called upon M. Rosa, to whom I related all the circumstances. After reading the summons he said, The seals shall be removed tomorrow morning, and in the meantime I shall summon Razetta before the Avogador. But tonight, my dear friend, he added, you must beg the hospitality of some of your acquaintances. It has been a violent proceeding, but you shall be paid handsomely for it. The man is evidently acting under M. Grimani's orders. Well, that is their business. I spent the night with Nanette and Martin, and on the following morning the seals haven't been taken off, I took possession of my dwelling. Razetta did not appear before the Avogador, and M. Rosa summoned him in my name before the criminal court, and obtained against them a writ of capios in case he should not obey the second summons. On the third day M. Grimani wrote to me, commanding me to call upon him. I went immediately. As soon as I was in his presence he inquired abruptly what my intentions were. I intend to shield myself from your violent proceedings under the protection of the law, and to defend myself against the man with whom I ought never to have had any connection, and who has compelled me to pass the night in a disreputable place. In a disreputable place? Of course. Why was I against all right and justice prevented from entering my own dwelling? You have possession of it now, but you must go to your lawyer and tell him to suspend all proceedings against Razetta, who has done nothing but undermine instructions. I suspect that your intention was to sell the rest of the furniture. I have prevented it. There is a room at your disposal at St. Chrysostom's in a house of mine, the first floor of which is occupied by La Tintoretta, our first opera dancer. Send all your things there and come and dine with me every day. Your sister and your brothers have been provided with a comfortable home. Therefore everything is now arranged for the best. I called it once upon M. Rosa, to whom I explained all that had taken place, and his advice being to give way to M. Grimani's wishes, I determined to follow him, besides the arrangement offered the best satisfaction I could obtain, as to be a guest at his dinner table was an honor for me. I was likewise full of curiosity respecting my new lodging under the same roof with La Tintoretta, who was much talked off owing to a certain prince of Waldeck, who was extravagantly generous with her. The bishop was expected in the course of the summer. I had therefore only six months more to wait in Venice before taking the road which would lead me, perhaps, to the throne of St. Peter. Everything in the future assumed in my eyes the brightest hue, and my imagination reveled amongst the most radiant beams of sunshine. My castles and air were indeed most beautiful. I dined the same day with M. Grimani, and I found myself seated next to Rosetta, an unpleasant neighbor, but I took no notice of him. When the meal was over, I paid a last visit to my beautiful house in St. Samuel's Parish, and sent all I possessed in a gondola to my new lodging. I did not know, Signora Tintoretta, but I was well acquainted with her reputation, character, and manners. She was but a poor dancer, neither handsome nor plain, but a woman of wit and intellect. Prince Waldeck spent a great deal for her, and yet he did not prevent her from retaining the titular protection of a noble Venetian of the Lin family. Now extinct, a man about sixty years of age who was her visitor at every hour of the day. This noble man who knew me came to my room towards the evening, with the compliments of the lady who he added, was delighted to have me in her house and would be pleased to receive me in her intimate circle. To excuse myself for not having been the first to pay my respects to the Signora, I told M. Lin that I did not know she was my neighbor, that M. Grimani had not mentioned her circumstance, otherwise I would have paid my duties to her before taking possession of my lodging. After this apology, I followed the ambassador. He presented me to his mistress, and the acquaintance was made. She received me like a princess, took off her glove before giving me her hand to kiss, mentioned my name before five or six strangers who were present, and whose names she gave me, and invited me to take a seat near her. As she was a native of Venice, I thought it was absurd for her to speak French to me, and I told her that I was not acquainted with that language, and would feel grateful if she would converse in Italian. She was surprised at my not speaking French, and I said I would cut but a poor figure in her drawing-room as they seldom spoke any other language there, because she received a great many foreigners. I promised to learn French. Prince Waldeck came in during the evening. I was introduced to him, and he gave me a very friendly welcome. He could speak Italian very well, and during the carnival he shooed me great kindness. He presented me with a good snuff box as a reward for a very poor sonnet, which I had written for his dear Grizzellini. This was her family name. She was called Tintoretta, because her father had been a dyer. The Tintoretta had greater claims than Juliet to the admiration of sensible man. She loved poetry, and if it had not been that I was expecting the bishop, I would have fallen in love with her. She was herself smitten with a young physician of great merit, named Rigellini, who died in the prime of life, in whom I still regret. I shall have to mention him in another part of my memoirs. Since the end of the carnival, my mother wrote to M. Grimani that it would be a great shame if the bishop found me under the roof of an opera dancer, and he made up his mind to lodge me in a respectable and decent place. He took the abbey to Salo into consultation, and the two gentlemen thought that the best thing that they could do for me would be to send me to a clerical seminary. They arranged everything unknown to me, and the abbey undertook to inform me of their plan, and to obtain from me a gracious consent. But when I heard him speak with beautiful flowers of rhetoric for the purpose of gilding the bitter pill, I could not help bursting into joyous laughter, and I astounded his reverence when I expressed my readiness to go anywhere he might think right to send me. The plan of the two worthy gentlemen was absurd, for at the age of seventeen, and with a nature like mine, the idea of placing me in a seminary ought never to have been entertained, but ever a faithful disciple of Socrates, feeling no unconquerable reluctance, and the plan, on the contrary, appearing to me rather a good joke, I not only gave a ready consent, but I even longed to enter the seminary. I told M. Grimani I was prepared to accept anything, provided Rosetta had nothing to do with it. He gave me his promise, but he did not keep it, when I left the seminary. I have never been able to decide whether this Grimani was kind because he was a fool, or whether his stupidity was the result of his kindness, but all his brothers were the same. The worst trick that Dame Fortune could play upon an intelligent young man is to place him under the dependence of a fool. A few days afterwards, having been dressed as a pupil of a clerical seminary by the care of the Abbey, I was taken to St. Cyprian de Muran and introduced to the rector. The patriarchal church of St. Cyprian is served by an order of the monks, founded by the Blessed Jerome Mianni, a nobleman of Venice. The rector received me with tender affection and great kindness, but in his address, which was full of unction, I thought I could perceive a suspicion on his part that my being sent to the seminary was a punishment, or at least a way to put a stop to an irregular life, and feeling hurt in my dignity, I told him at once. And Father, I do not think that any one has the right of punishing me. No, no, my son, he answered, I only meant that you would be very happy with us. We were then shown three halls in which we found at least one hundred and fifty seminarists, ten or twelve schoolrooms, the refectory, the dormitory, the gardens for play hours, and every pain was taken to make me imagine life in such a place the happiest that I could fall to the lot of a young man, and to make me suppose that I would even regret the arrival of the bishop. Yet they all tried to cheer me up by saying that I would only remain there five or six months. Their eloquence amused me greatly. I entered the seminary at the beginning of March and prepared myself for my new life by passing the night between my two young friends, Nanette and Martin, who bathed their pillows with tears. They could not understand, and this was likewise the feeling of their end and of their good amrosa, how a young man like myself could show such obedience. The day before going to the seminary, I had taken care to entrust all my papers to Madame Manzoni. They made a large parcel, and I left it in her hands for fifteen years. The worthy old lady is still alive, and with her ninety years she enjoys good health and a cheerful temper. She received me with a smile, and told me that I would not remain one month in the seminary. I beg your pardon, Madame, but I am very glad to go there, and intend to remain until the arrival of the bishop. You do not know your own nature, and you do not know your bishop, with whom you will not remain very long either. The Abbey accompanied me to the seminary in a gondola, but at Saint Michel he had to stop in consequence of a violent attack of vomiting, which seized me suddenly. The apothecary cured me with some mint water. I was indebted for this attack to the two frequent sacrifices which I had been offering on the altar of love, and he lover who knows what his feelings were when he found himself with the woman he adored, and with the fear that it was for the last time, will easily imagine my feelings during the last hours that I expected ever to spend with my two charming mistresses. I could not be induced to let the last offering be the last, and I went on offering until there was no more incense left. The priest committed me to the care of the rector, and my luggage was carried to the dormitory, where I went myself to deposit my cloak and my hat. I was not placed amongst the adults, because notwithstanding my size I was not old enough. Besides I would not shave myself through vanity, because I thought that the down on my face left no doubt of my youth. It was ridiculous, of course, but when does man cease to be so? We get rid of our vices more easily than of our follies. tyranny has not had sufficient power over me to compel me to shave myself, if it is only in that respect that I have found tyranny to be tolerant. To which school do you wish to belong? asked the rector. To the dogmatic reverend father I wish to study the history of the church. I will introduce you to the father examiner. I am a doctor in divinity, most reverend father, and do not want to be examined. It is necessary, my dear son, come with me. This necessity appeared to me an insult, and I felt very angry, but a spirit of revenge quickly whispered to me the best way to mystify them, and the idea made me very joyful. I answered so badly all the questions propounded in Latin by the examiner. I made so many solicisms that he felt at his duty to send me to an inferior class of grammar, in which, to my great delight, I found myself the companion of some twenty young urchins of about ten years, who, hearing that I was doctor in divinity, kept on saying, accipiamos pecuniam et mitamos asinum impatriam suam. Our play hours afforded me great amusement. My companions of the dormitory, who were all in the class of philosophy at least, looked down upon me with great content, and when they spoke of their own sublime discourses, they laughed, if I appear to be listening attentively to their discussions, which, as they thought, must have been perfect enigmas to me. I did not intend to betray myself, but an accident which I could not avoid forced me to throw off the mask. Mr. Barbarigo, belonging to the convent of the salutation at Venice, whose pupil I had been in physics, came to pay a visit to the rector, and seeing me, as we were coming from Mass, paid me his friendly compliments. His first question was to inquire what science I was studying, and he thought I was joking when I answered that I was learning the grammar. The rector, having joined us, I left them together and went to my class. An hour later, the rector sent for me. Why did you feign such ignorance at the examination, he asked? Why, I answered, were you unjust enough to compel me to the degradation of an examination? He looked annoyed and escorted me to the dogmatic school, where my comrades of the dormitory received me with great astonishment, and in the afternoon, at playtime, they gathered around me and made me very happy with their professions of friendship. One of them, about fifteen years old, and who at the present time must, if still alive, be a bishop, attracted my notice by his features as much as by his talents. He inspired me with a very warm friendship, and during recess, instead of playing skittles with the others, we always walked together. We conversed upon poetry, and we both delighted in the beautiful odes of horrors. We liked Ariosto Berre d'Antasso, and Petrarch had our whole admiration, while Tassoni and Muratori, who had been his critics, were the special objects of our contempt. We were such fast friends, after four days of acquaintance, that we were actually jealous of each other, and to such an extent that if either of us walked about with any seminarist, the other would be angry and sulk, like a disappointed lover. The dormitory was placed under the supervision of a lay friar, and it was his province to keep us in good order. After supper, accompanied by this lay friar, who had the title of Prefect, we all proceeded to the dormitory. There everyone had to go to his own bed, and to undress quietly after having said his prayers in a low voice. When all the pupils were in bed, the Prefect would go to his own. A large lantern lighted up the dormitory, which had the shape of a parallelogram eighty yards by ten. The beds were placed at equal distances, and to each bed there were a fold stool, a chair, and room for the trunk of the seminarist. At one end was the washing place, and at the other the bed of the Prefect. The bed of my friend was opposite mine, and the lantern was between us. The principal duty of the Prefect was to take care that no pupil should go and sleep with one of his comrades. For such a visit was never supposed an in innocent one. It was a cardinal sin, and bed being accounted the place for sleep and not for conversation, it was admitted that a pupil who slept out of his own bed did so only for immoral purposes. So long as he stopped in his own bed he could do what he liked. So much the worse for him if he gave himself up to bad practices. It has been remarked in Germany that it is precisely in those institutions for young men in which the directors have taken most pains to prevent onanism that this vice is most prevalent. Those who had framed the regulations in our seminary were stupid fools who had not the slightest knowledge of either morals or human nature. Nature has wants which must be administered to, and Tiso is right only as far as the abuse of nature is concerned. But his abuse would very seldom occur if the directors exercised proper wisdom and prudence and if they did not make a point of forbidding it in a special and peculiar manner. Young people give way to dangerous excesses from a sheer delight in disobedience, a disposition very natural to humankind since it began with Adam and Eve. I had been in the seminary for nine or ten days when one night I felt someone stealing very quietly in my bed. My hand was at once clutched and my name whispered. I could hardly restrain my laughter. It was my friend who, having chance to wake up and finding that the lantern was out, had taken a sudden fancy to pay me a visit. I very soon begged him to go away for fear the prefix should be awake, for in such a case we should have found ourselves in a very unpleasant dilemma and most likely would have been accused of some abominable offence. As I was giving him that good advice we heard someone moving and my friend made his escape. But immediately after he had left me I heard the fall of some person and at the same time the horse voice of the prefix exclaiming, Ah villain, wait until tomorrow, until tomorrow. After which thread he lighted the lantern and returned to his couch. The next morning before the ringing of the bell for rising the rector followed by the prefix entered the dormitory and said to us, Listen to me all of you, you are aware of what has taken place this last night. Two amongst you must be guilty, but I wish to forgive them and to save their honor. I promise that their names shall not be made public. I expect every one of you to come to me for confession before recess. He left the dormitory and we dressed ourselves. In the afternoon in obedience to his orders we all went to him and confessed after which ceremony we repaired to the garden, where my friend told me that having unfortunately met the prefect after he left me he had thought that the best way was to knock him down in order to get him to reach his own bed without being known. And now I said, you are certain of being forgiven for, of course you have wisely confessed your error? You're joking answer my friend, why the rector would not have known any more than he knows at present even if my visit to you had been paid with a criminal intent? Then you must have made a false confession, you are at all events guilty of disobedience. That may be, but the rector is responsible for the guilt as he used compulsion. My dear friend, you argue in a very forcible way and the very reverent rector must by this time be satisfied that the inmates of our dormitory are more learned than he is himself. No more would have been said about the adventure if, a few nights after, I had not in my turn taken a fancy to return the visit paid by my friend. Towards midnight having had occasion to get out of bed and hearing the loud snoring of the prefect I quickly put out the lantern and went to lie beside my friend. He knew me at once and gladly received me, but we both listened attentively to the snoring of our keeper and when it seized, understanding our danger, I got up and reached my own bed without losing a second, but the moment I got to it I had a double surprise. In the first place I felt somebody lying in my bed and in the second I saw the prefect with a candle in his hand coming along slowly and taking a survey of all the beds right and left. I could understand the prefect suddenly lighting a candle, but how could I realize what I saw, namely one of my comrades sleeping soundly in my bed with his back turned to me. I immediately made up my mind to faint sleep. After two or three shakings given by the prefect I pretended to wake up and my bed companion woke up in earnest. Astonished at finding himself in my bed he offered me an apology. I have made a mistake, he said, as I returned from a certain place in the dark I found your bed empty and mistook it for mine. Very likely I answered I had to get up too. Yes remarked the prefect, but how does it happen that you went to bed without making any remark when on your return you found your bed already tenanted? And how is it that being in the dark you did not suppose that you were mistaken yourself? I could not mistaken for I felt the pedestal of the crucifix of mine and I knew I was right as to my companion here I did not feel him. It is all very unlikely answered our Argus and he went to the lantern the wick of which he found crushed down. The wick has been forced into the oil, gentlemen. It has not gone out of itself. It has been the handiwork of one of you, but it will be seen too in the morning. My stupid companion went to his own bed. The prefect lighted the lamp and retired to his rest and after this scene which had broken the repose of every pupil I quietly slept under the appearance of the rector who at the dawn of day came in great fury escorted by his satellite the prefect. The rector after examining the localities and submitting to a lengthy interrogatory first my accomplice very naturally was considered as the most guilty and then myself whom nothing could convict of the offense ordered us to get up and go to church to attend math. As soon as we were dressed he came back and addressing us both he said kindly you stand both convicted of a scandalous carnivance and it is proved by the fact of the lantern having been willfully extinguished I am disposed to believe that the cause of all this disorders is if not entirely innocent at least due only to extreme thoughtlessness but the scandal given to all your comrades the outraged offer to the discipline and to the established rules of the seminary call loudly for punishment leave the room we obeyed but hardly were we between the double doors of the dormitory then we were seized by four servants who tied her hands behind us and led us to the classroom where they compelled us to kneel down before the great crucifix. The rector told them to execute his orders and as we were in that position the wretches administered to each of us seven or eight blows with a stick or with a rope which I received as well as my companion without a murmur but the moment my hands were free I asked the rector whether I could write two lines at the very foot of the cross he gave orders to bring ink and paper and I traced the following words I solemnly swear by this god that I have never spoken to the seminarist who was found in my bed as an innocent person I must protest against this shameful violence I shall appeal to the justice of his lordship the patriarch my comrade in misery signed this protest with me after which addressing myself to all the pupils I read it aloud calling upon them to speak the truth if any one could say the contrary of what I had written they with one voice immediately declared that that we had never been seen conversing together and that no one knew who had put the lamp out the rector left the room in the midst of hisses and curses but he sent us to prison all the same at the top of the house and in separate cells an hour afterwards I had my bed my trunk and all my things and my meals were brought to me every day on the fourth day the abbey to cello came for me with instructions to bring me to venice I asked him whether he had sifted this unpleasant affair he told me that he had inquired into it that he had seen the other seminarists and that he believed we were both innocent but the rector would not confess himself in the wrong and he did not see what could be done I threw off my seminarist habit and dressed myself in the clothes I used to wear in venice and while my luggage was carried to a boat I accompanied the abbey to M Grimani's gondola in which he had come and we took our departure on our way the abbey ordered the boatman to leave my things at the palace Grimani adding that he was instructed by M Grimani to tell me that if I had the audacity to present myself at his mansion his servants had received orders to turn me away he landed me near the convent of the Jesuits without any money and with nothing but what I had on my back I went to beg a dinner from Madame Manzoni who laughed heartedly at the realization of her prediction after dinner I called upon M Rosa to see whether the law could protect me against the tyranny of my enemies and after he had been made acquainted with the circumstances of the case he promised to bring me the same evening at Madame Oreos house an extra judicial act I repaired to the palace of appointment to wait for him and to enjoy the pleasures of my two charming friends at my sudden reappearance it was indeed very great and the recital of my adventures did not astonish them less than my unexpected presence M Rosa came and made me read the act which he had prepared he did not have time to have it engrossed by the notary but he undertook to have it ready the next day I left Madame Oreos to take supper with my brother Francois who resided with a painter called Guardi he was like me much oppressed by the tyranny of Grimani and I promised to deliver him towards midnight I returned to the two amiable sisters who were expecting me with their usual loving impatience but I am bound to confess it with all humility my sorrows were prejudicial to love in spite of the fortnight of absence and of abstinence they were themselves deeply affected to see me so unhappy and pitted me with all their hearts I endeavored to console them and assure them that all my misery would soon come to an end and that we would make up for lost time in the morning having no time and not knowing where to go I went to St. Mark's library where I remained until noon I left it with the intention of dining with Madame Manzoni but I was suddenly accosted by a soldier who informed me that someone wanted to speak to me in a gondola to which he pointed I answered that the person might as well come out but he quietly remarked that he had a friend at hand to conduct me forcibly to the gondola if necessary and without any more hesitation I went towards it I had a great dislike to noise or to anything like a public exhibition I might have resisted for the soldiers were unarmed and I would not have been taken up this sort of arrest not being legal in Venice but I did not think of it the Secure Deum was playing its part I felt no reluctance besides there are moments in which a courageous man has no courage or disdains to show it I enter the gondola the curtain is drawn aside and I see my evil genius La Zetta with an officer the two soldiers sit down at the prowl I recognize M Grimani's own gondola it leaves the landing and takes the direction of the leader no one spoke to me and I remain silent after half an hour's sailing the gondola stopped before the small entrance of the fortress St. Andre at the mouth of the Adriatic on the very spot where the busentour stands when on ascension day the dodger comes to expose the sea the sentinel calls the corporal via light the officer accompanied me introduces me to the major and presents a letter to him the major after reading its contents gives orders to M. Zen his adjutant to consign me to the guardhouse in another quarter of an hour my conductors take their departure and M. Zen brings me three livres and a half stating that I would receive the same amount every week it was exactly the pay of a private I did not give way to any burst of passion but I felt the most intense indignation late in the evening I expressed a wish to have some food brought for I could not starve then stretching myself up on a hard camp bed I passed the night amongst the soldiers without closing my eyes for these clavonians were singing eating garling smoking a bad tobacco which was most noxious and drinking a wine of their own country is black as ink which nobody else could swallow early next morning major payload or the governor of the fortress call me up to his room and told me that in compelling me to spend the night in the guardhouse he had only obeyed the orders he had received from venice from the secretary of war now reverend sir he added my further orders are only to keep you a prisoner in the fort and I am responsible for your remaining here I give you the whole of the fortress for your prison you shall have a good room in which you will find your bed and all your luggage walk anywhere you please but recollect that if you should escape it would cause my ruin I am sorry that my instructions are to give you only 10 soos a day but if you have any friends in Venice able to send you some money write to them and trust to me for the security of your letters now you may go to bed if you need rest I was taken to my room it was large and on the first story with two windows from which I had a very fine view I found my bed and I ascertained with great satisfaction that my trunk of which I had the keys had not been forced open the major had kindly supplied my table with all the implements necessary for writing a Sclavonian soldier informed me very politely that he would attend upon me and that I would pay him for his services whenever I could for everyone knew that I had only 10 soos a day I began by ordering some soup and when I had dispatched it I went to bed and slept for nine hours when I woke I received an invitation to suffer from the major and I began to imagine that things after all would not be so very bad I went to the honest governor whom I found a numerous company he presented me to his wife and to every person present I met there are several officers the chaplain of the fortress a certain pauli vida one of the singers of saint marx's church and his wife a pretty woman sister-in-law of the major whom the husband chose to confine in the fort because he was very jealous jealous men are not comfortable at venice together with several other ladies not very young but whom I thought very agreeable owing to their kind welcome cheerful as I was by nature those pleasant guests easily managed to put me in the best of humours everyone expressed their wish to know the reasons which could have induced m grimani to send me to the fortress so I gave a faithful account of all my adventures since my grandmother's death I spoke for three hours without any bitterness and even in a pleasant tone upon things which said in a different manner might have displeased my audience all expressed their satisfaction and showed so much sympathy that as we parted for the night I received from all an assurance of friendship and the offer of their services this is a piece of good fortune which has never failed me whenever I have been the victim of oppression until I reached the age of fifty whenever I met with honest persons expressing a curiosity to know the history of the misfortune under which I was laboring and whenever I satisfied their curiosity I have inspired them with friendship and with that sympathy which was necessary to rendon them favorable and useful to me that success was owing to a very simple artifice it was only to tell my story in a quiet and truthful manner without even avoiding the facts which told against me it is simple secret that many men do not know because the larger portion of humankind is composed of cowards a man who always tells the truth must be possessed of great moral courage experience has taught me that truth is a talisman the charm of which never fails in its effect provided it is not wasted upon unworthy people and I believe that a guilty man who candidly speaks the truth to his judge has a better chance of being acquitted than the innocent man who hesitates and invades true statements of course the speaker must be young or at least in the prime of manhood for an old man finds the whole of nature combined against him the major had his joke respecting the visit paid and returned to the seminary's bed but the chaplain and the ladies scolded him the major advised me to write up my story and send it to the secretary of war undertaking that he should receive it and he assured me that he would become my protector all the ladies tried to induce me to follow the major's advice end of chapter six