 Chapter 31 of the Memories of Jacques Casanova, Volume 2. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Recording by Roseanne Schmidt. The Memories of Jacques Casanova, Volume 2, Paris in Prison, by Jacques Amon Casanova. Translated by Octave Machin. Episode 10, Under the Leeds. Chapter 31. I find a lodging in the house of the Chief of the Zabiri. I pass a good night there and recover my strength. I go to Mass. A disagreeable meeting I am obliged to take six sequins by force. Out of danger. Arrived at Munich, Balbi I set out for Paris. My arrival. Attempt on the life of Louis XV. As soon as I saw Father Balbi, far enough off I got up. And seeing at a little distance a shepherd keeping his flock on the hillside, I made my way towards him to obtain such information as I needed. What is the name of this village, my friend? said I. Valde Piedené, Signor. He answered to my surprise, for I found I was much farther on my way than I thought. I next asked him, the owners of five or six houses which I saw scattered around, and the persons he mentioned, chance to be all known to me, but were not the kind of men I should have cared to trouble with my presence. On my asking him the name of the palace before me, he said they belonged to the Grimannis, the chief of whom was a state inquisitor, and then resident at the palace. So I had to take care not to let him see me. Finally, at my inquiring the owner of a red house in the distance, he told me, much to my surprise that they belonged to the chief of the Zabiri. Bidding farewell to the kindly shepherd I began to go down the hill mechanically, and am still puzzled to know what instinct directed my steps towards that house, which common sense and fear also should have made me shun. I steered my course for it in a straight line, and I can say with truth that I did so quite unwittingly. If it be true that we have all of us an invisible intelligence, a beneficent genius who guides our steps aright, as was the case with Socrates, to that alone I should attribute the irresistible attraction which drew me towards the house where I had most to dread. However, that may be, it was the boldest stroke I have played in my whole life. I entered with an easy and unconstrained air, and asked a child who was playing atop in the courtyard where his father was. Instead of replying, the child went to call his mother, and directly afterwards appeared a pretty woman in the family way, who politely asked me, my business with her husband, apologizing for his absence. I am sorry, I said, to hear that my gossip is not in, though at the same time I am delighted to make the acquaintance of his charming wife, your gossip, you will be Mr. Vituri then. My husband told me that you had kindly promised to be the godfather of our next child. I am delighted to know you, but my husband will be very vexed to have been away. I hope he will return, as I wanted to ask him for a night's lodging. I dare not go anywhere in the state you see me. You shall have the best bed in the house, and I will get you a good supper. My husband, when he comes back, will thank your excellence for doing us so much honor. He went away with all his people an hour ago, and I don't expect him back for three or four days. Why is he away for such a long time, my dear madame? You have not heard, then, that two prisoners have escaped from the Leeds? One is a noble, and the other a private individual called Casanova. My husband has received a letter from Mesur Grand, ordering him to make a search for them. If he finds them, he will take them back to Venice, and if not he will return here, but he will be on the lookout for three days at least. I am sorry for this accident, my dear madame, but I should not like to put you out, and indeed I should be glad to lie down immediately. You shall do so, and my mother shall attend to your wants. But what is the matter with your knees? I fell down whilst hunting on the mountains, and gave myself some severe wounds, and am much weakened by loss of blood. Oh, my poor gentleman, my poor gentleman, but my mother will cure you. She called her mother, and having told her of my necessities, she went out. This pretty Sibiris had not the wit of her profession, for the story I had told her sounded like a fairy tale, on horseback with white silk stockings. Hunting in Sarsene without cloak and without a man, her husband would make fine game of her when he came back, but God bless her for her kind heart and benevolence to pity. Her mother attended me with all the politeness I should have met within the best families. The worthy woman treated me like a mother, and called me son as she attended my wounds. The name sounded pleasantly in my ears, and did no little towards my cure by the sentiments it woke in my breast. If I had been less taken up with the position I was in, I should have repaid her care with some evident marks of the gratitude I felt. But the place I was in and the part I was playing made the situation too serious a one for me to think of anything else. This kindly woman, after looking at my knees and my thighs, told me that I must make my mind to suffer a little pain, but I might be sure of being cured by mourning. All I had to do was bear the application of medicated linen to my wounds, and not to stir till the next day. I promised to bear the pain patiently, and to do exactly as she told me. I was given an excellent supper, and I ate and drank with good appetite. I then gave myself up to treatment, and fell asleep whilst my nurse was attending to me. I suppose she addressed me as she would a child, but I remembered nothing about it when I woke up. I was, in fact, totally unconscious. Though I had made a good supper, I had only done so to satisfy my craving for food and to regain my strength. And sleep came to me with an irresistible force, as my physical exhaustion did not leave me the power of arguing myself out of it. I took my supper at six o'clock in the evening, and I heard six striking as I awoke. I seemed to have been enchanted. Rousing myself up and gathering my wits together, I first took off the linen bandages, and was astonished to find my wounds healed and quite free from pain. I did my hair, dressed myself in less than five minutes, and finding the door of my room open I went downstairs, crossed the court, and left the house behind me, without appearing to notice two individuals who were standing outside, and must have been Sibiri. I made haste to lengthen the distance between me and the place where I found the kindliest hospitality, the utmost politeness, the most tender care, and best of all, new health and strength. And as I walked, I could not help feeling terrified at the danger I had been in. I shuddered involuntarily, and at the present moment, after so many years, I still shudder when I think of the peril to which I had so heedlessly exposed myself. I wondered how I managed to go in, and still more how I came out. It seemed absurd that I should not be followed. For five hours I tramped on, keeping to the woods and mountains, not meeting a soul besides a few country folk, and turning neither to the right nor left. It was not yet noon when, as I went along my way, I stopped short at the sound of a bell. I was on high ground and looking in the direction from which the sound came, I saw a little church in the valley, and many people going towards it to hear mass. My heart desired to express thankfulness for the protection of Providence, and, though all nature was a temple worthy of its creator, custom drew me to the church. When men are in trouble, every passing thought seems an inspiration. It was All Saints Day. I went down the hill and came into the church, and saw, to my astonishment, Mr. Mark Antoine Grimani, the nephew of the state inquisitor, with Madame Marie Vizani, his wife. I made my bow, which was returned, and after I had heard mass, I left the church. Mr. Grimani followed me by himself, and when he had got near me, called me by name, saying, What are you doing here, Casanova, and what has become of your friend? I have given him what little money I had for him to escape by another road, whilst I, without a penny in my pocket, am endeavoring to reach a place of safety by this way. If your excellence would kindly give me some help, it would speed my journey for me. I can't give you anything, but you will find recluses on your way, who won't let you die of hunger, but tell me how you can thrive to pierce the roof of the Leeds. The story is an interesting one, but it would take up too much time, and in the meantime, the recluses might eat up the food, which is to keep me from dying of hunger. With this sarcasm, I made him a profound bow, and went upon my way. In spite of my great want, his refusal pleased me, and it made me think myself a greater gentleman than the excellence who had referred me to the charity of recluses. I heard, at Paris afterwards, that when his wife heard of it, she reproached him for his heart-hearted behavior. There can be no doubt that kindly and generous feelings are more often to be found in the hearts of women than of men. I continued my journey till sunset, wary and faint with hunger. I stopped at a good-looking house, which stood by itself. I asked to speak with a master, and the porter told me that he was not in, and he had gone to a wedding on the other side of the river, and would be away for two days, but that he had bidden him to welcome all his friends while he was away. Providence, luck, chance, whichever you like. I went in, and was treated to a good supper and a good bed. I found by the addresses of some letters which were laying about that I was being entertained in the house of Mr. Rombenchy, a council of which nation I know not. I wrote a letter to him and sealed it to await his return. After making an excellent supper and having had a good sleep, I rose, and dressing myself carefully, set out again without being able to leave the porter any remark of my gratitude, and shortly afterwards crossed the river, promising to pay when I came back. After walking for five hours, I dined in a monastery of Capuchins, who are very useful to people in my position. I then set out again, feeling fresh and strong, and walked along in a good pace till three o'clock. I halted at a house which I found from a countryman belonging to a friend of mine. I walked in, asked if the master was at home, and was shunned to a room where he was riding by himself. I stepped forward to greet him, but as soon as he saw me he seemed horrified, and bid me be gone forthwith, giving me idle and insulting reasons for his behavior. I explained to him how I was situated, and asked him to let me have sixty sequins on my note of hand, drawn on Mr. Day Bragedine. He replied that he could not so much as give me a glass of water, since he dreaded the wrath of the tribunal for my very presence in his house. He was a stockbroker, about sixty years old, and was under great obligations to me. His inhumane refusal produced quite a different effect on me than that of Mr. Romani. Whether from rage, indignation, or nature, I took him by the collar. I shooed him my pike, and raising my voice threatened to kill him. Trumbling all over, he took a key from his pocket, and showing me a bureau told me he kept money there, and I had only to open it and take what I wanted. I told him to open it himself. He did so, and on his opening the drawer containing gold, I told him to count me out six sequins. He asked me for sixty. Yes, that was, when I was asking alone of you as a friend. But since I owe the money to force, I require six only, and I will give you no note of hand. You shall be repaid at Venice, where I shall write of the past to which you forced me, you cowardly wretch. I beg your pardon. Take the sixty sequins. I entreat you. No, no more. I am going on my way, and I advise you not to hinder me, lest in my despair I come back and burn your house about your ears. I went out and walked for two hours until the approach of night, and weariness made me stop short at the house of a farmer, where I had a bad supper and a bit of straw. In the morning, I bought an old overcoat, and hired an ass to journey on, and near Feltry, I bought a pair of boots. In the skies, I passed the hut called the Scala. There was a guard there who, much to my delight, as the reader would guess, did not even honor me by asking my name. I then took a two-horse carriage and got to Borgode Valsugano in good time, and found Father Balby at the inn I had told him of. If he had not created me first, I should not have known him. A great overcoat, a low hat over a thick cotton cap, disguising him to admiration. He told me that a farmer had given him these articles in exchange for my cloak, and he had arrived without difficulty, and was faring well. He was kind enough to tell me that he did not expect to see me, as he did not believe my promise to rejoin him was made in good faith. Possibly, I should have been wise not to un-deceive him on this account. I passed the following day in the inn, where without getting out of my bed, I wrote more than twenty letters to Venice, in many of which I explained what I had been obliged to do to get the six sequins. The monk wrote impudent letters to his superior, Father Barbarigo, and to his brother Nobles, and love letters to his servant girls, who had been his ruin. I took the lace off my dress and sold my hat, and thus got rid of a gay appearance unsuitable to my position, as it made me too much an object of notice. The next day I went to Berghina and lay there, and I was visited by the young Count D'Alberg, who had discovered, in some way or another, that we had escaped from the state prisons of Venice. From Berghina I went to Trent, and from there to Bolzen, where, needing money for my dress, linen, and the continuation of my journey, I introduced myself to an old banker named Mench, who gave me a man to send to Venice, with a letter to Mr. de Bragedine. In the meantime, the old banker put me in a good inn, where I spent the six days the messenger was away in bed. He brought me the sum of a hundred sequins, and my first care was to clothe my companion, and afterwards myself. Every day I found the society of the wretched Balby more intolerable. Without me, you would never have escaped, was continually in his mouth, and he kept reminding me that I had promised him half of whatever money I got. He made love to all the serving girls, and as he had neither the figure nor the manors to please them, his attentions were returned with good hearty slaps, which he bore patiently, but was as outrageous as ever in the course of twenty-four hours. I was amused, but at the same time vexed, to be coupled to a man of so low a nature. We traveled post, and in three days we got to Munich, where I went to Lodge at the sign of the stag. There I found two young Venetians of the Cantorini family, who had been there sometime in company with Count Pompey of Aronis, but not knowing them, and having no longer any need of depending on recklessness for my daily bread, I did not care to pay my respects to them. It was otherwise with Countess Coronini, whom I knew as Saint Justine's convent at Venice, and who stood very well with the Bavarian court. This illustrious lady, then, seventy years old, gave me a good reception and promise to speak on my behalf to the elector, with a view of his granting me an asylum in his country. The next day, having fulfilled her promise, she told me that his highness had nothing to say against me, but as for Balbi, there was no safety for him in Bavaria. For, as a fugitive monk, he might be acclaimed by the monks at Munich, and his highness had no wish to meddle with the monks. The Countess advised me, therefore, to get him out of the town as soon as possible, for him to fly to some other quarter, and thus to avoid the bad turn, which his beloved brethren, the monks, were certain to do to him. Feeling in duty bound to look after the interests of the wretched fellow, I went to the elector's confessor to ask him to give Balbi letters of introduction to some town in Swabia. The confessor, a Jesuit, did not give the lie to the fine reputation of his brethren of the order. His reception of me was as discourteous as it well could be. He told me in a careless way that at Munich I was well known. I asked him, without flinching, if I was to take this as a piece of good or bad news, but he made no answer, and left me standing. Another priest told me that he had gone out to verify the truth of a miracle of which the whole town was talking. What miracle is that, Reverend Father? I asked. The Empress, the widow of Charles the Seventh, whose body is still exposed to the public gaze, has warm feet, although she is dead. Perhaps something keeps them warm? You can assure yourself personally of the truth of this wonderful circumstance. To neglect such an opportunity would have been to lose the chance of mirth or edification, and I was as desirous of the one as of the other, wishing to be able to boast that I had seen a miracle, and one more over, of a peculiar interest for myself, who have always had the misfortune to suffer from cold feet. I went to see the mighty dead. It was quite true that her feet were warm, but the matter was capable of a simple explanation, as the feet of her defunct majesty were turned towards a burning lamp at a little distance off. A dancer of my acquaintance, whom curiosity had brought there with the rest, came up to me, complimented me upon my fortunate escape, and told me everybody was talking about it. His news pleased me, as it is always a good thing to interest the public. The son of Terpiscore asked me to dinner, and I was glad to accept his invitation. His name was Michael Legada, and his wife was the pretty Gandela, whom I had known sixteen years ago at the old Malapiros. The Gandela was enchanted to see me, and to hear from my own lips the story of my wondrous escape. She interests herself on behalf of the monk, and offered me to give him a letter of introduction for Augustburg Canonbessy of Belogna, who was Dean of St. Maurice's chapter, and a friend of hers. I took advantage of the offer, and she, forthwith, wrote me the letter, telling me that I need not trouble myself any more about the monk, as she was sure that the dean would take care of him, and even make it all right at Venice. Delighted at getting rid of him in so honorable a manner, I ran to the inn, told him what I had done, gave him the letter, and promised not to abandon him in the case of the deans not giving him a warm welcome. I got him a good carriage, and started him off the next day at Daybreak. Four days after, Balby wrote that the dean had received him with great kindness, that he had given him a room in the deanry, and he had addressed him as an ab, that he had introduced him to the prince-bishop of Armstrong, and that he had received assurances of his safety from the civil magistrates. Furthermore, the dean had promised to keep him till he obtained his secularization from Rome, and with it freedom to return to Venice. For as soon as he ceased to be a monk, the tribunal would have no lean upon him. Father Balby finished by asking me to send him a few sequins for pocket money, as he was too much of a gentleman to ask the dean, who, quoted the ungrateful fellow, is not gentleman enough to offer to give me anything. I gave him no answer. As I was now alone in peace and quietness, I thought seriously of regaining my health, for my sufferings had given me nervous spasms, which might become dangerous. I put myself on a diet, and in three weeks I was perfectly well. In the meanwhile, Madame Riviere came from Dresden, with her son and two daughters. She was going to Paris to marry the elder. The son had been diligent, and would have passed for a young man of culture. The elder daughter, who was going to marry an actor, was extremely beautiful, and accomplished dancer, and played on the clavichord like a professional, and was altogether most charming and graceful. This pleasant family was delighted to see me again, and I thought myself fortunate when Madame Riviere, anticipating my wishes, intimated to me that my company as far as Paris would give them great pleasure. I had nothing to say respecting the expenses of the journey. I had to accept their offer in its entirety. My design was to settle in Paris, and I took this stroke of fortune as an omen of success in the only town where the blind goddess freely dispenses her favors to those who leave themselves to be guided by her, and know how to take advantage of her gifts. And, as the reader will see by and by, I was not mistaken, but all the gifts of fortune were of no avail, since I abused them all by my folly. Fifteen months under the leads should have made me aware of my weak points, but in point of fact I needed a little longer stay to learn how to cure myself of my failings. Madame Riviere wished to take me with her, but she could not put off her departure, and I required a week's delay to get money and letters from Venice. She promised to wait a week in Strasburg, and we agreed that if possible I would join her there. She left Munich on the eighteenth of December. Two days afterwards, I got from Venice the bill of exchange for which I was waiting. I made haste to pay my debts, and immediately afterwards I started for Augsburg. Not so much for the sake of seeing Father Balbi, as because I wanted to make the acquaintance of the kindly dean who had rid me of him. I reached Augsburg in seven hours after leaving Munich, and I went immediately to the house of the good Ecclesiastic. He was not in, but I found Balbi in an abs dress, with his hair covered with white powder, which set off in a new, but not a pleasing manner. The beauties of his complexion of about the same color as a horse chestnut. Balbi was under forty, but he was decidedly ugly. Having one of those faces in which bassiness, cowardice, impudence, and malice are plainly expressed, joining to this advantage, a tone of voice and manners admirably calculated to repulse anyone inclined to do him a service. I found him comfortably housed, well looked after, and well clad. He had books and all of requisites for writing. I complimented him upon his situation, calling him a fortunate fellow, applying the same epithet to myself for having gained him all the advantages he enjoyed, and the hope of one day becoming a secular priest. But the ungrateful hound, instead of thanking me, reproached me for having craftily rid myself of him, and added that, as I was going to Paris, I might as well take him with me, as the dullness of Augsburg was almost killing him. What do you want at Paris? What do you want yourself? To put my talents to account. So do I. Well, then, you don't require me. You can fly on your own wings. The people who are taking me to Paris would probably not care for me if I had you for a companion. You promise not to abandon me. Can a man who leaves another well provided for, and an assured future be said to abandon him, well provided? I have not got a penny. What do you want with money? You have a good table, a good lodging, clothes, linen, attendance, and so forth, and if you want pocket money, why don't you ask your brother in the monks? Ask monks for money. They take it, but they don't give it. Ask your friends then. I have no friends. You are to be pitied, but the reason probably is that you have never been a friend to anyone. You ought to say masses. That is a good way of getting money. I am unknown. You must wait then, till you are known, and then you can make up for lost time. Your suggestions are idle. You will surely give me a few sequins. I can't spare any. Wait for the dean. He will be back tomorrow. You can talk to him and persuade him to lend me some money. You can tell him that I will pay it back. I cannot wait, for I am setting out on my journey directly, and where he hear this moment I should not have the face to tell him to lend you money after all his generous treatment of you, and when he or anyone can see that you have all you need. After this sharp dialogue I left him, and traveling post I set out, displeased with myself for having given such advantages to a man wholly unworthy of them. In the March following I had a letter from the good Dean Bessie, in which he told me how Balby had run away, taking with him one of his serving girls, a sum of money, a gold watch, and a dozen silver spoons and forks. He did not know where he was gone. Towards the end of the same year I learned at Paris that the wretched man had taken refuge at Corie, the capital of the Griesans, where he asked to be made a member of the Calvinistic Church, and to be recognized as a lawful husband of the women with him. But in a short time the community discovered that the new convert was no good and expelled him from the bosom of the Church of Calvin. Our ne'er-do-well having no more money, his wife left him, and he, not knowing what to do next, took the desperate step of going to Brassat, a town within the Venetian territory, where he sought the government, and telling him his name, the story of his flight, and his repentance, begging the governor to take him under his protection and to obtain his pardon. The first effect of the Podesta's protection was that the penitent was imprisoned, and he then wrote to the tribunal to know what to do with him. The tribunal told him to send Father Valby to Chains in Venice, and on his arrival, Mr. Grand gave him over to the tribunal, which put him once more under the Leeds. He did not find Count Askwin there, as the tribunal, out of consideration for his great age, had moved him to the force a couple of months after our escape. Five or six years later I heard that the tribunal, after keeping the unlucky monk for two years under the Leeds, had sent him to his convent. There his superior, fearing lest his flock should take Contagion from this scabby sheep, sent him to their original monastery near Feltry, a lonely building on the height. However, Balby did not stop there six months. Having got the key of the fields, he went to Rome and threw himself at the feet of Pope Rosonchio, who absolved him of his sins, and released him from his monastic vows. Balby, now a secular priest, returned to Venice, where he lived a desolate and wretched life. In 1783 he died the death of Diagonus, minus the wood of the cynic. At Strasburg I rejoined Madame Riviere and her delightful family, from whom I received a sincere and hearty welcome. We were staying at the hotel de l'esprit, and as we passed a few days there, most pleasurably, afterwards, setting out in an excellent traveling carriage for Paris the only, Paris the universal. During the journey I thought myself bound to the expense of making it a pleasant one, as I had not to put my hand in my pocket for other expenses. The charms of Madame Muselle Riviere enchanted me, but I should have esteemed myself, wanting in gratitude and respect for this worthy family if I had darted at her a single amorous glance, or if I had let her suspect my feelings for her by a single word. In fact, I thought myself obliged to play the heavy father. Though my age did not fit me for the part, I lavished on this agreeable family all the care which can be given in return for pleasant society, a seat in a comfortable traveling carriage, an excellent table, and a good bed. We reached Paris on the 5th of January, 1757, and I went to the house of my friend Bellati, who received me with open arms, and assured me that though I had not written he had been expecting me, since he judged that I would strive to put the greatest possible distance between myself and Venice, and he could think of no other retreat for me than Paris. The whole house kept holiday when my arrival became known, and I had never met with more sincere regard than in that delightful family. I greeted with enthusiasm the father and mother, whom I found exactly the same as when I had seen them last in 1752, but as I was struck with astonishment at the daughter whom I had left a child, for she was now a tall and well-shaped girl, mademoiselle Bellati was fifteen years old, and her mother had brought her up with care, had given her the best masters, virtue, grace, talents, a good manner, tact, a knowledge of society, in short, all that a clever mother can give to her dear daughter. After finding a pleasant lodging near the Bellaties, I took a coach and went to the Hotel de Bourbon, with the intent of calling on Mr. de Bernice, who was then chief secretary for foreign affairs. I had good reasons for relying on his assistance. He was out. He had gone to Versailles. At Paris, one must go sharply to work, and, as it is vulgarly but fearsomely said, strike while the iron's hot. As I was impatient to see what kind of a reception I should get from the liberal-minded lover of my fair M.M., I went to the Pôle Royale, took a hackney-coach, and went to Versailles. Again, bad luck. Our coaches crossed each other on the way, and my humble equipage had not caught his excellency's eyes. Mr. de Bernice had returned to Paris with Count Castiana, the ambassador for Naples, and I was determined to return also. But when I got to the gate, I saw a mob of people running here and there in the greatest confusion, and from all sides I heard the cry, the king is assassinated, the king is assassinated. My frightened coachman only thought of getting on his way, but the coach was stopped. I was made to get out and take into the guard room, where there were several people already, and in less than three minutes there were twenty of us, all under arrest, all astonished at the situation, and all as much guilty as I was. We were glum and silent, looking at each other without daring to speak. I knew not what to think, and not believing in enchantment, I began to think I must be dreaming. Every face expressed surprise, as everyone, though innocent, was more or less afraid. We were not left in this disagreeable position for long, as in five minutes an officer came in, and after some polite apologies told us we were free. The king is wounded, he said, and he has been taken to his room. The assassin, whom nobody knows, is under arrest. Mr. de la Martinaire is being looked for everywhere. As soon as I got back to my coach and was thinking myself lucky for being there, a gentlemanly looking man came up to me and besought me for giving him a seat in my coach, and he would gladly pay half the fare, but in spite of the laws of politeness I refused his request. I may possibly have been wrong. On any other occasion I should have been most happy to give him a place, but there are times when prudence does not allow one to be polite. I was about three hours on the way, and in this short time I was overtaken every minute by at least two hundred couriers riding at a breakneck pace. Every minute brought a new courier, and every courier shouted his news to the winds. The first told me what I already knew. Then I heard that the king had been bled, that the wound was not mortal, and finally that the wound was trifling, and that his majesty could go to the trianon if he liked. Fortified with his good news, I went to Sylvia's and found the family at the table. I told them I had just come from Versailles. The king has been assassinated. Not at all. He is able to go to the trianon, or the paul-curs, if he likes. Mr. de la Martinière has bled him, and found him to be in no danger. The assassin has been arrested, and the wretched man will be burnt, drawn with red-hot pincers, and quartered. This news was soon spread abroad by Sylvia's servants, and a crowd of the neighbors came to hear what I had to say, and I had to repeat the same thing ten times over. At this period the Parisians fancied that they loved the king. They certainly acted the part of loyal subjects to admiration. At the present day they are more enlightened. They would only love the sovereign whose sole desire is the happiness of his people. And such a king, the first citizens of a great nation, not Paris and at suburbs, but all France, will be eager to love and obey. As for kings like Louis XV, they have become totally impracticable. But if there were any such, however much they may be supported by interested parties, in the eyes of public opinion they will be dishonored and disgraced before their bodies are in grave, and their names are written in a book of history. CHAPTER XXXI OF THE MEMORIES OF ZHAK KASENOVA VOLUME II This is LibriVox Recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by John Thomas Kuz. THE MEMORIES OF ZHAK KASENOVA VOLUME II Paris AND PRISON THE MEMORIES OF ZHAK KASENOVA Translated by Arthur Mason Episode X under the Leeds Chapter 32, Part 1. THE MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS MONCHEUR DE BOULEAUNE THE COMPTROLLER MONCHEUR LE DUC DE CHORCIEULE MONCHEUR PERRY DE VERNEULE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE LOTTERY MY BROTHER'S ARRIVAL AT PERIS HIS RECEPTION BY THE ACADEMY Once more than I was in Paris, which I ought to regard as my fatherland since I could return no more to that land which gave me birth, an unworthy country yet in spite of all ever dear to me, possibly on account of early impressions and early prejudices, or possibly because the beauties of Venice are really unmatched in the world, but mighty Paris is a place of good luck or ill as one takes it, and it is my part to catch the favoring gale. Paris was not wholly new to me, as my readers know I had spent two years there, but I must confess that, having then no other aim than to pass the time pleasantly, I had merely devoted myself to pleasure and enjoyment. Fortune, to whom I had paid no court, had not opened to me her golden doors, but I now felt that I must treat her more reverently, and attach myself to the throng of her favored sons whom she loads with her gifts. I understood now that the nearer one draws to the sun the more one feels the warmth of its rays. I saw that to attain my end I should have to employ all my mental and physical talents, that I must make friends of the great and take cue from all whom I found it to be my interest to please. To follow the plan suggested by these thoughts, I saw that I must avoid what is called bad company, that I must give up my old habits and pretensions, which would be sure to make me enemies, who would have no scruple in representing me as a trifler, and not fit to be trusted with affairs of any importance. I think I thought wisely, and the reader, I hope, will be of the same opinion. I will be reversed, said I, in what I say and what I do, and thus I shall get a reputation for discretion, which will bring its reward. I was in no anxiety on the score of present needs, as I could reckon on the monthly allowance of a hundred crowns, which my adopted father, the good and generous Montchaudet Bregardin, sent me, and I found this sum sufficient in the meanwhile, for with a little self-restraint, one can live cheaply at Paris, and cut a good figure at the same time. I was obliged to wear a good suit of clothes and to have a decent lodging, for in all large towns the most important thing is outward show, by which, at the beginning, one is always judged. My anxiety was only for the pressing needs for the moment, for to speak the truth I had neither clothes nor linen, in a word nothing. If my relations with the French ambassador recalled, it will be found natural that my first idea was to address myself to him, as I knew him sufficiently well to reckon on his serving me. Being perfectly certain that the porter would tell me that my lord was engaged, I took care to have a letter, and in the morning I went to the palais bourbon. The porter took my letter, and I gave him my address and returned home. Wherever I went, I had to tell the story of my escape from the Leeds. This became a service almost as tiring as the flight itself had been, as it took me two hours to tell my tale, without the slightest bit of fancy work, but I had to be polite to the curious inquirers, and to pretend that I believed them moved by the most affectionate interest in my welfare. In general, the best way to please is to take the benevolence of all with whom one has relation for granted. I subbed at Sylvia's, and as the evening was quieter than the night before, I had time to congratulate myself on all the friendship she showed me. The girl was, as I had said, fifteen years old, and I was in every way charmed with her. I complimented the mother on the good results of her education, and I did not even think of guarding myself from falling victim to her charms. I had taken so lately such well-founded and philosophical resolutions, and I was not yet sufficiently at my ease to value the pain of being tempted. I left at an early hour, impatient to see what kind of an answer the minister had sent me. I had not long to wait, and I received a short letter appointing a meeting for two o'clock in the afternoon. It may be guessed that I was punctual, and my reception by his excellence was most flattering. Monsieur de Bernier expressed his pleasure at seeing me after my fortunate escape, and at being able to be of service to me. He told me that M. M. had informed him of my escape, and he had flogged himself that the first person I should go see in Paris would be himself. He showed me the letters from M. M. relating to my arrest and escape, but all the details in the latter were purely imaginary and had no foundation in fact. M. M. was not to blame, as she could only write what she had heard, and it was not easy for anyone besides myself to know the real circumstances of my escape. The charming nun said that no longer buoyed up by the hope of seeing either of the men who alone had made her in love with life, her existence had become a burden to her, and she was unfortunate in not being able to take any comfort in religion. See, see, often comes to see me, she said, but I grieve to say she is not happy with her husband. I told M. M. de Bernier that the account of my flight from the Leeds, as told by her friend, was wholly inaccurate, and I would therefore take the liberty of writing out the whole story with the minutest details. He challenged me to keep my word assuring me that he would send a copy to M. M., and at the same time, with the utmost courtesy, he put a packet of a hundred Louis in my hand telling me that he would think what he could do for me and would advise me as soon as he had any communication to make. Thus furnished with ample funds, my first care was for my dress, and this done I went to work, and in a week sent my generous protector the result, giving him permission to have as many copies printed as he liked, and to make any use he pleased of it to interests in my behalf such persons as might be of service to me. Three weeks after, the minister summoned me to say that he had spoken of me to M. Arito, the Venetian ambassador, who had nothing to say against me, but for fear of embroiling himself with the state inquisitors declined to receive me. Not wanting anything from him, his refusal did me no harm. M. de Bernier then told me that he had given a copy of my history to M. de Marquis de Pompadour, and he promised to take the first opportunity of presenting me to this all-powerful lady. You can present yourself, my dear Casanova, added his excellence, to the Duke de Chaucierle and Monsieur de Boulogne, the Comptroller. You will be well received, and with a little wit, you ought to be able to make good use of the letter. He himself will give you the cue, and you will see that he who listens obtains. Try to invent some useful plan for the royal ex-Chucker. Don't let it be complicated or chimerical, and if you don't write it out at too great length, I'll give you my opinion on it. I left the minister in a pleased and grateful mood, but extremely puzzled to find a way of increasing the royal revenue. I knew nothing of finance, and after racking my brains, all that I could think of was new methods of taxation. But all my plans were either absurd or certain to be unpopular, and I rejected them all on consideration. As soon as I found out that M. de Chaucierle was in Paris, I called on him. He received me in his dressing room, where he was writing while his valet did his hair. He stretched his politeness so far as to interrupt himself several times to ask me questions, but as soon as I began to reply, his grace began to write again, and I suspect did not hear what I was saying. Though now and again he seemed to be looking at me, it was plain that his eyes and his thoughts were occupied on different objects. In spite of this way of receiving visitors, or me, at all events, M. de Chaucierle was a man of wit. When he had finished writing, he said in Italian that M. de Berni had told him of some circumstances of my escape, and he added, Tell me how you succeeded. My lord, it would be too long a story. It would take me at least two hours, and your grace seems busy. Tell me briefly about it. However much I speak to the point, I shall take two hours. You can keep the details for another time. The story is devoid of interest without the details. Well, well, you can tell me the whole story in brief without losing much of the interest. Very good. After that I can say no more. I must tell your lordship, then, that the state inquisitors shut me up under the leads. That after fifteen months and five days of imprisonment, I succeeded in piercing the roof. That after many difficulties I reached the chancery by a window, and broke open the door. Afterwards I got to St. Mark's place. Once, taking a gondola, which bore me to the mainland, I arrived at Paris, and have had the honor to pay my duty to your lordship. But what are the leads? My lord, I should take a quarter of an hour at least to explain. How did you pierce the roof? I could not tell your lordship in less than half an hour. Why were you shut up? It would be a long tale, my lord. I think you are right. The interest of the story lies chiefly in the details. I took the liberty of saying as much to your grace. Well, I must go to Versailles, but I shall be delighted if you will come and see me sometimes. In the meanwhile, mon sure Casanova, think what I can do for you. I had been most offended at the way in which mon sure des chaussiers had received me, and I was inclined to resent it. But the end of our conversation, and above all the kindly tone of his last words, quieted me, and I left him, if not satisfied, at least without bitterness in my heart. From him I went to mon sure des bouillons, and found him a man of quite a different stamp to the duke, in manor's dress and appearance. He received me with great politeness, and began by complimenting me on the high place I enjoyed in the opinion of mon sure des vernis and on my skill in matters of finance. I felt that no compliment had been so ill-deserved, and I could hardly help bursting into laughter. My good angel, however, made me keep my countenance. Mon sure des bouillons had an old man with him, every feature bore the imprint of genius, and who inspired me with respect. Give me your views, said the comp-troller, either on paper or vivavosche. You will find me willing to learn and ready to grasp your ideas. Here is mon sure Paris des vernis, who wants twenty millions for his military school, and he wishes to get this sum without a charge on the state or emptying the treasury. It is God alone, sir, who has the creative power. I'm not a God, said mon sure des vernis, but for all that I have now, and then created, but the times have changed. Everything, I said, is more difficult than it used to be, but in spite of difficulties, I have a plan which would give the king the interest of a hundred millions. What expense would there be to the crown, merely the cost of receiving? The nation then would furnish this sum in question, undoubtedly, but voluntarily. I know what you are thinking of. You astonish me, sir, as I have told nobody of my plan. If you have no other engagement, do me the honor of dining with me tomorrow, and I will tell you what your project is. It is a good one, but surrounded, I believe, with insuperable difficulties. Nevertheless, we will talk it over and see what can be done. Will you come? I will do myself that honor. Very good. I will expect you at placence. After he had gone, mon sure des boulons praised his talents in honesty. He was the brother of mon sure des mortes mortels, whom secret history makes the father of madame des pompadours, for he was the lover of madame Poisson, at the same time as mon sure les normandes. I left the comptrollers and went to walk in the tuleries, thinking over the strange stroke of luck which had happened to me. I had been told that twenty millions were wanted, and I had boasted of being able to get a hundred, without the slightest idea of how it was to be done, and on that a well-known man experienced in the public business had asked me to dinner, to convince me that he knew what my scheme was. There was something odd and comic about the whole affair, but that corresponded very well with my modes of thought and action. If he thinks he is going to pump me, said I, he will find himself mistaken. When he tells me what the plan is, it will rest with me to say he has guessed it, or he is wrong as the inspiration of the moment suggests. If the question lies within my comprehension, I may perhaps be able to suggest something new, and if I understand nothing, I will wrap myself up in a mysterious silence which sometimes produces a good effect. At all events, I will not repulse fortune when she appears to be favorable to me. Mon sure des bernis had only told mon sure des boulons that I was a financier to get me a hearing, as otherwise he might have declined to see me. I was sorry not to be master at least of the jargon of the business, as in that way men have got out of a similar difficulty and by knowing the technical terms and nothing more have made their mark. No matter, I was bound at the engagement. I must put a good face on a bad game and, if necessary, pay with the currency of assurance. The next morning I took a carriage, and in a pensive mood I told the coachman to take me to mon sure des bernis at Plaisance, a place a little beyond Vincennes. I was set down at the door of the famous man who, forty years ago, had rescued France on the brink of the precipice down which law had almost precipitated her. I went in and saw a great fire burning on the hearth, which was surrounded by seven or eight persons, to whom I was introduced as a friend of the minister for foreign affairs and of the comptroller. Afterwards, he introduced the gentleman to me, giving to each his proper title, and I noted that four of them were treasury officials. After making my bow to each, I gave myself over to the worships of harpa crates, and without too great an air of listening was all ears and eyes. The conversation at first was of no special interest, as they were talking of the scene being frozen over, and the ice being a foot thick. Then came the recent death of mon sure des fontanelles, then the case of Damien, who would confess nothing. And of the five millions his trial would cost the crown. The coming to war they praised mon sure des subis, who had been chosen by the king to command the army. Hence the transition was easy to the expenses of the war and how they were to be defrayed. I listened and was weary for all they said was so full of technicalities that I could not follow the meaning. And if silence can ever be imposing, my determined silence of an hour and a half duration ought to have made me seem a very important personage in the eyes of these gentlemen. At last, just as I was beginning to yawn, dinner was announced, and I was another hour and a half without opening my mouth, except to do honor to an excellent repast. Directly, the dessert had been served. Mon sure de vernai asked me to follow him into a neighboring apartment, and to leave the other guests at the table. I followed him, and we crossed a hall where we found a man of good aspect, about 50 years old, who followed us into a closet, and was introduced to me by Mon sure de vernai, under the name of Calso Bigi. Directly after, two superintendents of the treasury came in, and Mon sure de vernai, smilingly, gave me a folio book saying, That, I think, Mon sure Casanova is your plan. I took the book and read, lottery consisting of 90 tickets to be drawn every month, only one in 18 to be a winning number. I gave him back the book and said, with the utmost calmness, I confess, sir, that is exactly my idea. You have anticipated, then. The project is by Mon sure de calso Bigi here. I'm delighted not at being anticipated, but to find that we think alike. But may I ask you why you have not carried out the plan? Several very plausible reasons have been given against it, which have had no decisive answers. I can only conceive one reason against it, said Iculee. Perhaps the king would not allow his subjects to gamble. Never mind that, the king will let his subjects gamble as much as they like. The question is, will they gamble? I wonder how anyone can have any doubt on that score, as the winners are certain of being paid. Let us grant, then, that they will gamble. How is the money to be found? How is the money to be found? The simplest thing in the world. All you want is a decree in council authorizing you to draw on the treasury. All I want is for the nation to believe that the king can afford to pay a hundred millions. A hundred millions? Yes, a hundred millions, sir. We must dazzle people. But if France is to believe that the crown can afford to pay a hundred millions, it must believe that the crown can afford to lose a hundred millions. And who is going to believe that, do you? To be sure, I do. For the crown, before it could lose a hundred millions, would have received at least a hundred and fifty millions, and so there need to be no anxiety on that score. I am not the only person who has doubts on the subject. You must grant the possibility of the crown losing an enormous sum at the first drawing. Certainly, sir. But between possibility and reality is all the region of the infinite. Indeed, I may say that it would be a great piece of good fortune if the crown were to lose largely on the first drawing. A piece of bad fortune, you mean surely? A bad fortune is to be desired. You know that all the insurance companies are rich. I will undertake to prove, before all the mathematicians in Europe, that the king is bound to gain one in five in this lottery. That is the secret. You will confess that the reason ought to yield to mathematical proof? Yes, of course. But how is it that the Castelletto cannot guarantee the crown a certain gain? Neither the Castelletto nor anyone in the world can guarantee absolutely that the king shall always win. What guarantees us against any suspicion of sharp practice is the drawing once a month, as then the public is sure that the holder of the lottery may lose. Will you be good enough to express your sentiments on the subject before the council? I will do so with much pleasure. You will arrange all objections? I think I can promise as much. Will you give me your plan? Not before it is accepted, and I am guaranteed a reasonable profit. But your plan may possibly be the same as the one before us. I think not. I see Monchur de Calçabigie for the first time, and as he has not shown me his scheme, and I have not communicated mine to him, it is improbable not to say impossible that we should agree in all respects. Besides, in my plan I clearly show how much profit the crown ought to get per annum. It might therefore be formed by a company who would pay the crown a fixed sum. I think not. Why? For this reason, the only thing which would make the lottery pay would be an irresistible current of public opinion in its favor. I should not care to have anything to do with it in the service of a company who, thinking to increase their profits, might extend their operations, a course which would entail certain loss. I don't see how. In a thousand ways, which I will explain to you another time, and which I am sure you can guess for yourself. In short, if I am to have any voice in the matter it must be a government lottery or nothing. Monchur de Calçabigie thinks so too. I am delighted to hear it, but not at all surprised. For thinking on the same lines, we are bound to arrive at the same results. Have you anybody ready for the Castelletto? I shall only want intelligent machines, for whom there are plenty in France. I went out for a moment and found them in groups on my return, discussing my project with great earnestness. Monchur de Calçabigie, after asking me a few questions, took my hand, which he shook heartily, saying he should like to have some further conversation with me, and, returning the friendly pressure, I told him that I should esteem it as an honour to be numbered amongst his friends. Thereupon I left my address with Monchur de Vernay and took my leave, satisfied by my inspection of the faces before me, that they all had a high opinion of my talents. Jacques Casanova, volume 2, Paris and Prison, by Giacomo Casanova, translated by Arthur Marchen. Three days after Monchur de Calçabigie called on me, and after receiving him in my best style, I said that if I had not called on him, it was only because I did not wish to be troublesome. He told me that my decisive ways of speaking had made a great impression, and was certain that if I cared to make interest with the Comptroller, we would set up the lottery and make a large profit. I think so too, said I, but the financiers will make a much larger profit, and yet they do not seem anxious about it. They have not communicated with me, but it is their look as I shall not make it my chief aim. You will undoubtedly hear something about it today, for I know for a fact that Monchur de Boulogne has spoken of you to Monchur de Cotel. Very good, but I assure you I did not ask him to do so. After some further conversation, he asked me, in the most friendly manner possible, to come and dine with him, and I accepted his invitation with a great pleasure, and just as we were starting, I received a note from Monchur de Berkney, in which he said that if I could come to her side the next day, he would present me to Madame de Pompadour, and that I should have an opportunity of seeing Monchur de Boulogne. In high glee at this happy chance, less from vanity than policy, I made Monchur de Calse-Bigy read the letter, and I was pleased to see him opening his eyes as he read it. You can force Duvernay himself to accept the lottery, he said, and your fortune is made if you are not too rich already to care about such matters. Nobody is ever rich enough to despise good fortune, especially when it is not due to favor. Very true. We have been doing our utmost for two years to get the plan accepted, and have met with nothing beyond foolish objections which you have crushed to pieces. Nevertheless, our plans must be very similar. Believe me, it will be best for us to work in concert. For, by yourself, you would find insipid difficulties in the working, and you will find no intelligent machines in Paris. My brother will do all the work, and you will be able to reap the advantages at your ease. Are you then not the inventor of the scheme which has been shown me? No, it is the work of my brother. Shall I have the pleasure of seeing him? Certainly. His body is feeble, but his mind is in all its vigor. We shall see him directly. The brother was not a man of a very pleasing appearance, as he was covered with a kind of leprosy. But that did not prevent him from having a good appetite, writing, and enjoying all his bodily and intellectual faculties. He talked well and amusingly. He never went into society, as, besides his personal disfigurement, he was tormented with an irresistible and frequent desire of scratching himself, now in one place, and now in another. And as all scratching is accounted, an abominable thing in Paris, he preferred to be able to use his fingernails to the pleasures of society. He was pleased to say that, believing in God and his works, he was persuaded his nails had been given him to procure the only solace he was capable of in the kind of fury with which he was tormented. You are a believer, then, in final causes. I think you are right. But still, I believe you would have scratched yourself if God had forgotten to give you any nails. My remarks made him laugh, and he then began to speak of our common business, and I soon found him to be a man of intellect. He was the elder of the two brothers and a bachelor. He was expert in all kinds of calculations and accomplished financier with a universal knowledge of commerce, a good historian, a wit, a poet, and a man of gallantry. His birthplace was Legahorn. He had been in a government office at Naples, and had come to Paris with Manche de l'Hôpital. His brother was also a man of learning and talent, but in every respect his inferior. He showed me the pile of papers on which he had worked out all the problems referring to the lottery. If you think you can do without me, said he, I must compliment you on your abilities. But I think you will find yourself mistaken. For if you have no practical knowledge of the matter and no businessmen to help you, your theories will not carry you far. What will you do after you have obtained the decree? When you speak before the council, if you take my advice, you will fix a date after which you are not to be held responsible. That is to say, after which you will have nothing more to do with it. Unless you do so, you will be certain to encounter trifling and procrastination, which will defer your plan to the Greek Kailins. On the other hand, I can assure you that Manche du Verneuil would be very glad to see us join hands. Very much inclined to take these gentlemen into partnership for the good reason that I could not do without them, but taking care that they should suspect nothing, I went down with the younger brother, who introduced me to his wife before dinner. I found present an old lady, well known at Paris, under the name of General La Moth, famous for her former beauty and her gout, another lady, some advanced in years, who was called Baroness Blanche, and was still the mistress of Manche du Verneuil. Another styled the present lady, and a fourth fair as the don, Madame Rossetti, from Piedmont, the wife of one of the violin players at the opera, and said to be courted by Manche du Verneuil, the superintendent of the opera. We sat down to dinner, but I was silent and absorbed, all my thoughts being monopolized by the lottery. In the evening, at Sylvia's, I was pronounced absent and pensive, and so I was in spite of the sentiment with which Mlle. Baletti inspired me, a sentiment with which every day grew in strength. I set out for Versailles next morning, two hours before daybreak, and was welcomed by M. de Berneuil, who said he would bet that, but for him, I should never have discovered my talent for finance. Manche des Boulons tells me you astonished Manche du Verneuil, who is generally esteemed one of the cutest men in France. If you will take my advice, Cassanova, you will keep up that acquaintance and pay him a seduous court. I may tell you that the lottery is certain to be established, that it will be your doing, and that you ought to make something considerable out of it, as soon as the king goes out to hunt, be at hand in the private apartments, and I will seize a favorable moment for introducing you to the famous Marquis. Afterwards, go to the office for foreign affairs, and introduce yourself in my name to the Abbe de la Ville. He is the chief official there, and will give you a good reception. Manche des Boulons told me that, as soon as the council of the military school had given their consent, he would have the decree for the establishment of the lottery published, and he urged me to communicate to him any ideas which I might have on the subject of finance. At noon, M. de Pompadour passed through the private apartments with the Prince de Soubise, and my patron hastened to point me out to the illustrious lady. She made me a graceful curtsy, and told me that she had been much interested in the subject of my flight. Do you go, said she, to see your ambassador? I show my respect to him, madame, by keeping away. I hope you mean to settle in France. It would be my dearest wish to do so, madame, but I stand in need of patronage, and I know that in France patronage is only given to men of talent, which is for me a discouraging circumstance. On the contrary, I think you have reason to be hopeful, as you have some good friends. I myself shall be delighted if I can be of any assistance to you. As the fair Marquis moved on, I could only stammer forth my gratitude. I next went to the Abbe de la Ville, who received me with the utmost courtesy, and told me that he would remember me at the earliest opportunity. Versailles was a beautiful spot, but I had only compliments, and not invitations, to expect there. So after leaving Mancheux de la Ville, I went to an inn to get some dinner. As I was sitting down, an abbe of excellent appearance, just like dozens of other French abs, accosted me politely, and asked me if I objected to our dining together. I always thought the company of a pleasant man a thing to be desired so, I granted his request. And as soon as he sat down, he complimented me on the distinguished manner in which I had been treated by Mancheux de la Ville. I was there writing a letter, and I could hear all the obliging things the abbe said to you. May I ask, sir, how you obtained access to him? If you really wish to know, I may be able to tell you. It is pure curiosity on my part. Well, then, I will say nothing from pure prudence. I beg your pardon. Certainly, with pleasure. Having thus shut the mouth of the curious impertinent, he confined his conversation to ordinary and more agreeable topics. After dinner, having no further business at Versailles, I made preparations for leaving, on which the abbe begged to be of my company. Although a man who frequents the Society of Abs is not thought much more of than one who frequents the Society of Girls, I told him that, as I was going to Paris in a public conveyance, far from its being a question of permission, I should be only too happy to have the pleasure of his company. On reaching Paris, we parted, after promising to call on each other, and I went to Sylvia's and took supper there. The agreeable mistress of the house complimented me on my noble acquaintances, and made me promise to cultivate their Society. As soon as I got back to my own lodging, I found a note from Montgardeux-Vernay, who requested me to come to the military school at eleven o'clock on the next day, and later, in the evening, Calse-Bigy came to me from his brother, with a large sheet of paper containing all the calculations pertaining to the lottery. Fortune seemed to be in my favour, for this tabular statement came to me, like a blessing from Anhai, resolving, therefore, to follow the instructions which I pretended to receive indifferently. I went to the military school, and as soon as I arrived the conference began. Montgardeux-Vernay had been requested to be present as an expert in arithmetical calculations. If Montgardeux-Vernay had been the only person to be consulted, this step would not have been necessary, but the council contained some obstinate heads who were unwilling to give in. The conference lasted three hours. After my speech, which only lasted half an hour, Montgardeux-Coteux summed up my arguments, and an hour was passing in stating objections, which I refuted with the greatest of ease. I finally told them that no man of honour and learning would volunteer to conduct the lottery on the understanding that it was to win every time, and that if anyone had the impudence to give such an undertaking, they should turn him out of the room forthwith, for it was impossible that such an argument could be maintained except by some roguery. This had its effect, for nobody replied, and Montgardeux-Vernay remarked that if the worst came to the worst, the lottery could be suppressed. At this, I knew my business was done, and all present, after signing a document which Montgardeux-Vernay gave them, took their leave and I myself left directly afterwards with a friendly leave taking from Montgardeux-Vernay. Montgardeux-Calça-Biget came to see me the next day, bringing the agreeable news that the affair was settled, and that all that was wanting was the publication of the decree. I'm delighted to hear it, I said, and I will go to Montgardeux-Boulons every day, and get you appointed chief administrator as soon as I know what I have got for myself. I took care not to leave a stone unturned in this direction, as I knew that, with the great promising and keeping a promise, are two different things. The decree appeared a week later. Calça-Biget was made superintendent with an allowance of 3,000 francs for every drawing, a yearly pension of 4,000 francs for us both and the chief of the lottery. His share was a much larger one than mine, but I was not jealous as I knew he had a greater claim than I. I sold five of the six offices that had been allotted to me for 2,000 francs each, and opened the sixth with great style in the Rue Saint-Denis, putting my valet there as a clerk. He was a bright young Italian who had been valet to the Prince de la Cattolica, the ambassador from Naples. The day for the first drawing was fixed, and notice was given that the winning numbers would be paid in a week from the time of drawing at the chief office. With the idea of drawing custom to my office, I gave notice that all the winning tickets bearing my signature would be paid at my office in 24 hours after the drawing. This drew crowds to my office and considerably increased my profits, as I had 6% on the receipts. A number of the clerks in the other offices were foolish enough to complain to Calça-Biget that I had spoiled their gains, but he sent them about their business, telling them that to get the better of me they had only to do as I did if they had the money. My first taking amounted to 40,000 francs. An hour after the drawing, my clerk brought me the numbers, and showed me that we had from 17,000 to 18,000 francs to pay for which I gave him the necessary funds. Without my thinking of it, I thus made the fortune of my clerk for every winner gave him something, and all this I let him keep for himself. The total receipts amounted to two millions, and the administration made a profit of 600,000 francs, of which Paris alone had contributed a thousand francs. This was well enough for a first attempt. On the day after the drawing, I dined with Calça-Biget at Monche du Vernage, and I had the pleasure of hearing him complain that he had made too much money. Paris had 18 or 20 tares, and although they were small, they increased the reputation of the lottery, and it was easy to see that the receipts at the next drawing would be doubled. The mock assaults that were made upon me put me in a good humor, and Calça-Biget said that my idea had ensured me an income of 100,000 francs a year, though it would ruin the other receivers. I had played similar strokes myself, said Monche du Vernage, and have mostly succeeded, and as for the other receivers, they are at perfect liberty to follow Monche Casanova's example, and it all tends to increase the repute of an institution which we owe to him and to you. At the second drawing, a turn of 40,000 francs obliged me to borrow money. My receipts amounted to 60,000, but being obliged to deliver over my chest on the evening before the drawing, I had to pay out of my own funds, and was not repaid for a week. In all the great houses I went to, and at the theaters, as soon as I was seen, everybody gave me money, asking me to lay it out as I liked, and to send them the tickets, as so far the lottery was strange to most people. I thus got into the way of caring about the tickets of all sorts, or rather of all prices, which I gave to people to choose from, going home in the evening with my pockets full of gold. This was an immense advantage to me, as kind of privilege, which I enjoyed to the exclusion of the other receivers who were not in society, and did not drive a carriage like myself. No small point in one's favor. In a large town where men are judged by the state they keep, I found I was thus able to go into any society, and to get credit anywhere. I had hardly been a month in Paris, when my brother Francis, with whom I had parted in 1752, arrived from Dresden with Madame Sylvester. He had been in Dresden for four years, taking up with the pursuit of his art, having copied all the battle pieces in the Elector's galley. We were both of us glad to meet once more, but on my offering to see what my great friends could do for him with the academicians, he replied with all an artist's pride that he was much obliged to me, but would rather not have any other patrons than his talents. The French, said he, have rejected me once, and I am far from bearing them ill-will on that account, for I would reject myself now if I were what I was then, but with their love of genius I reckon on a better reception this time. His confidence pleased me, and I complimented him upon it, for I have always been of the opinion that true merit begins by doing justice to itself. Francis painted a fine picture, which on being exhibited at the Louvre was recede with applause. The Academy bought the picture for 12,000 francs. My brother became famous, and in 26 years he made almost a million of money, but in spite of that, foolish expenditure, his luxurious style of living, and two bad marriages were the ruin of him. End of Chapter 32. End of the Memoirs of Jacques Casanova Volume 2, Paris and Prison, by Giacomo Casanova. Translated by Arthur Maschen. Recording by John Thomas Kuzkazmarski. John Thomas Kuzkazmarski. www.validateyourlife.com