 Chapter 15 Part 2 of the Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 1 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Lucy Burgoyne. The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 1 The Venetian Years by Giacomo Casanova Episode 3 Military Career Chapter 15 Part 2 A strong breeze sprung up towards evening, so I ordered them to clap on all sail and scud before the wind, even if it should get stronger. In order to escape the pirate, I had made up my mind to cross the gulf. We took the wind through the night, and in the morning we were 80 miles from Corfu, which I determined to reach by rowing. We were in the middle of the gulf, and the sailors were worn out with fatigue, but I had no longer any fear. A gale began to blow from the north, and in less than an hour it was blowing so hard that we were compelled to sail close to the wind in a fearful manner. The falooka looked every moment as if it must capsize. Everyone looked terrified, but kept complete silence, for I had enjoined it on penalty of death. In spite of our dangerous position, I could not help laughing when I heard the sobs at the Cowardly Scaramage. The helmsman was a man of great nerve, and the gale being steady, I felt we would reach Corfu without mishap. At daybreak we sighted the town, and at nine in the morning we landed at Mandracia. Everybody was surprised to see us arrive that way. As soon as my company was landed, the young officers naturally came to inspect the actresses, but they did not find them very desirable, with the exception of Marina, who received, uncomplainingly, the news that I could not renew my acquaintance with her. I felt certain that she would not lack admirers, but my actresses, who had appeared ugly at the landing, produced a very different effect on the stage, and particularly the pantaloons wife. Monsuo Duodou, commander of a man of all, called upon her, and finding master pantaloon intolerant on the subject of his better half, gave him a few blows with his cane. The studio informed me the next day that the pantaloon and his wife refused to perform any more, but I made them alter their mind by giving them a benefit night. The pantaloons wife was much applauded, but she felt insulted because, in the midst of their applause, the pit called out, bravo Duodou. She presented herself to the general in his own box, in which I was generally, and complained of the manner in which she was treated. The general promised her, in my name, another benefit night for the clothes of the carnival, and I was, of course, compelled to ratify his promise. The fact is that, to satisfy the greedy actors, I abandoned, to my comedians, one by one, the seventeen nights I had reserved for myself. The benefit I gave to Marina was at the special request of Madame F, who had taken her into great favour, since she had had the honour of breakfasting alone with Monsuo Duodou, in a villa outside of the city. My generosity cost me four hundred sequins, but the Faro Bank brought me a thousand and more, although I never held the cards, my management of the theatre, taking up all my time. My manner with the actresses gave me great kindness. It was clearly seen that I carried on, no intrigue, with any of them, although I had every facility for doing so. Madame F complimented me, saying that she had not entertained such a good opinion of my discretion. I was too busy through the carnival to think of love, even of the passion which filled my heart. It was only at the beginning of Lent, and after the departure of the comedians, that I could give reign to my feelings. One morning Madame F sent a messenger who summoned me to her presence. It was eleven o'clock. I immediately went to her and inquired what I could do for her service. I wanted to see you, she said, to return the two hundred sequins, which you lent me so nobly. Here they are. Be good enough to give me back my note of hand. Your note of hand, Madame, is no longer in my possession. I have deposited it in a sealed envelope, with the notary who, according to this receipt of his, can return it only to you. Why did you not keep it yourself? Because I was afraid of losing it, or of having it stolen, and in the event of my death I did not want such a document to fall into any other hands but yours. A great proof of your extreme delicacy, certainly, that I think you ought to have reserved the right of taking it out at the notary's custody yourself. I did not foresee the possibility of calling for it myself. Yet it was a very likely thing, and I can send word to the notary to transmit it to me. Certainly, Madame, you alone can claim it. She sent to the notary, who brought the himself. She tore the envelope open, and found only a piece of paper bestowed with ink, quite ineligible, except her own name, which had not been touched. You have acted, she said, most nobly, but you must agree with me that I cannot be certain that this piece of paper is really my note of hand, although I see my name on it. True, Madame, and if you are not certain of it, I confess myself in the wrong. I must be certain of it, and I am so, but you must grant that I could not swear to it. Granted, Madame, during the following days it struck me that her manner towards me was singularly altered. She never received me in her disobey, and I had to wait with great patience until her maid had entirely dressed her before being admitted into her presence. If I related any story, any adventure, she pretended not to understand, and affected not to see the point of an antidote or a jest. Very often she would purposely not look at me, and then I was sure to relate badly. If one sewer, D.R., laughed at something, I had just said she would ask what he was laughing for, and when he had told her, she would say it was insipid or dull. If one of her bracelets became unfastened, I offered to fasten it again, but either she would not give me so much trouble, or I did not understand the fastening, and the maid was called to do it. I could not help showing my vexation, but she did not seem to take the slightest notice of it. If one sewer, D.R., excited me to say something amusing or witty, and I did not speak immediately, she would say that my budget was empty, laughing and adding that the wit of poor one sewer Casanova was worn out. Full of rage, I would plead guilty by my silence to her taunting accusation, that I was thoroughly miserable, for I did not see any cause for that extraordinary change in her feelings, being conscious that I had not given her any motive for it. I wanted to show her openly my indifference and contempt, but whenever an opportunity offered, my courage would forsake me, and I would let it escape. One evening, Monshua, D.R., asking me whether I had often been in love, I answered, three times, my lord, and always happily, of course, always unhappily, the first time, perhaps, being because an ecclesiastic I durst not to speak openly of my love, the second, because a cruel, unexpected event compelled me to leave the woman I loved at the very moment in which my happiness would have been complete, the third time, because of the feeling of pity, with which I inspired the beloved object, induced her to cure me of my passion instead of crowning my felicity. But what specific remedies did she use to affect your cure? She has ceased to be kind. I understand she has treated you cruelly, and you call that pity, do you? You are mistaken. Certainly, said Madame F., a woman may pity the man she loves, but she would not think of ill-treating him to cure him of his passion. That woman has never felt any love for you. I cannot. I will not believe it, Madame. But are you cured? Oh, thoroughly, for when I happen to think of her, I feel nothing but indifference and coldness, but my recovery was long. Your convalescence lasted, I suppose, until you fell in love with another. With another, Madame, I thought I had just told you that the third time I loved was the last. A few days after that conversation, Monsiua Diar told me that Madame F. was not well, that he could not keep her company, and that I ought to go to her, as he was sure she would be glad to see me. I obeyed and told Madame F. What Monsiua Diar had said, she was lying on a sofa. Without looking at me, she told me she was feverish, and would not ask me to remain with her, because I would feel weary. I could not experience any weariness in your society, Madame. At all events, I can leave you only by your express command, and in that case I must spend the next four hours in your anti-room, for Monsiua Diar has told me to wait for him here. If so, you must take a seat. Her cold and distant manner repelled me, but I loved her, and I had never seen her so beautiful. A slight fever animating her complexion, which was then truly dazzling in its beauty. I kept where I was, dumb and as motionless as a statue, for a quarter of an hour. Then she rang for her maid, and asked me to leave her alone for a moment. I was called back soon after, and she said to me, What has become of your cheerfulness? If it has disappeared, Madame, it can only be by your will. Call it back, and you will see it return in force. What must I do to obtain that result? Only be towards me as you were when I returned from Kasapo. I have been disagreeable to you for the last four months, and as I do not know why, I feel deeply grieved. I am always the same in what do you find me changed, good heavens in everything except in beauty, but I have taken my decision, and what is it? To suffer in silence without allowing any circumstance to alter the feelings with which you have inspired me, to wish ardently to convince you of my perfect obedience to your commands, to be ever ready to give you fresh proofs of my devotion. I thank you, but I cannot imagine what you can have to suffer in silence on my account. I take an interest in you, and I always listen with pleasure to your adventures. As a proof of it, I am extremely curious to hear the history of your three loves. I invented on the spot three purely imaginary stories, making a great display of tender sentiments and of ardent love, but without alluding to amorous enjoyment, particularly when she seemed to expect me to do so. Sometimes delicacy, sometimes respect of duty, interfered to prevent the crowning pleasure, and I took care to observe, at such moments of disappointment, that a true lover does not require that all important item to feel perfectly happy. I could easily see that her imagination was travelling farther than my narrative, and that my reserve was agreeable to her. I believed I knew her nature well enough to be certain that I was taking the best road to induce her to follow me where I wished to lead her. She expressed a sentiment which moved me deeply, but I was careful not to show it. We were talking of my third love, of the woman who, out of pity, had undertaken to cure me, and she remarked, If she truly loved you, she may have wished not to cure you, but to cure herself. On the day following this partial reconciliation, Monsiua F., her husband, begged my commanding officer, D.R., to let me go with him to Butintro, for an excursion of three days, his own adjutant being seriously ill. Butintro is seven miles from Kefu, almost opposite to that city. It is the nearest point to the island from the mainland. It is not a fortress, but only a small village of Iparis or Albania, as it is now called, and belonging to the Venetians. Acting on the political axiom that neglected right is lost right, the Republic sends every year four galleys to Butintro, with a gang of galley slaves to feltries. Cut them and load them on the galleys, while the military keep a sharp lookout to prevent them from escaping to Turkey and becoming Muslims. One of the four galleys were commanded by Monsiua F., who, wanting an adjutant for the occasion, chose me. I went with him, and on the fourth day we came back to Kofu, with a large provision of wood. I found Monsiua DR, alone on the terrace of his palace. It was good Friday. He seemed thoughtful, and after a silence of a few minutes, he spoke the following words which I could never forget. Monsiua F., whose adjutant died yesterday, has just been entreating me to give you to him until he can find another officer. I have told him that I had no right to dispose of your person, and that he ought to apply to you, assuring him that if you ask me to leave to go with him, I would not raise any objection, although I require two adjutants. Has he not mentioned the matter to you? No, Monsiua F., he has only tended me his thanks for having accompanied him to that intro, nothing else. He is sure to speak to you about it. What do you intend to say? Simply that I will never leave the service of your Excellency without your express command to do so. I never will give you such an order. As Monsiua DR was saying the last word, Monsiua and Madame F., came in. Knowing that the conversation would most likely turn upon the subject which had just been broached, I hurried out of the room. In less than a quarter of an hour I was sent for, and Monsiua F., said to me confidentially, Well, Monsiua Casnova, would you not be willing to live with me as my adjutant? Does his Excellency dismiss me from his service? Not at all, observed Monsiua DR, but I leave you the choice. My Lord, I could not be guilty of ingratitude, and I remained there standing, uneasy, keeping my eyes on the ground, not even striving to conceal my mortification, which was, after all, very natural in such a position. I dreaded looking at Madame F., for I knew that she could easily guess all my feelings. An instant after, her foolish husband coldly remarked that I should certainly have a more fatiguing service with him than with Monsiua DR, and that, of course, it was more honourable to serve the general governor of the Gaolais than a simple sopra commit home. I was on the point of answering, when Madame F., said in a graceful and easy manner, Monsiua Casnova is right, and she changed the subject. I left the room revolving in my mind all that had just taken place. My conclusion was that Monsiua F. had asked Monsiua DR to let me go with him at the suggestion of his wife, or at least with her consent, and it was highly flattering to my love and to my vanity, but I was bound in honour not to accept the post, unless I had a perfect assurance that it would not be disagreeable to my present patron. I will accept, I said to myself, if Monsiua DR tells me positively that I shall please him by doing so, it is for Monsiua F. to make him say it. End of Chapter 15 Part 2 Chapter 15 Part 3 of the Memoirs of Jacques Casnova Volume 1 This is a LibraVox recording. All LibraVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org Recording by Lucy Burgoyne The Memoirs of Jacques Casnova Volume 1 The Venetian Years by Diakomo Casnova Episode 3 Military Career Chapter 15 Part 3 On the same night I had the honour of offering my arm to Madame E. during the procession which takes place in commemoration at the death of our Lord and Saviour, which was then attended on foot by all the nobility. I expected she would mention the matter, but she did not. My love was in despair, and through the night I could not close my eyes. I feared she had been offended by my refusal and was overwhelmed with grief. I passed the whole of the next day without breaking my fast and did not utter a single word during the evening reception. I felt very unwell and I had an attack of fever which kept me in bed on Easter Sunday. I was very weak on the Monday and intended to remain in my room when a messenger from Madame E. came to inform me that she wished to see me. I told the messenger not to say that he had found me in bed and dressing myself rapidly I hurried to her house. I entered her room pale looking very ill yet she did not inquire after my help and kept silent a minute or two as if she had been trying to recollect what she had to say to me. I, yes, you are aware that our adjutant is dead and that we want to replace him. My husband, who has a great esteem for you, and feels that Monshuah D'Ar leaves you perfectly free to make your choice, has taken the singular fancy that you will come if I ask you myself to do us that pleasure. Is he mistaken? If you would come to us you would have that room. She was pointing to a room adjoining the chamber in which she slept and so situated that to see her in every part of her room I should not even inquire to place myself at the window. Monshuah D'Ar, she continued, will not love you less and as he will see you here every day he will not be likely to forget his interest in your welfare. Now tell me, will you come or not? I wish I could, madam, but indeed I cannot. You cannot. That is singular. Take a seat and tell me what there is to prevent you. When in accepting my offer you are sure to please Monshuah D'Ar as well as us. If I was certain of it I would accept immediately that all I have heard from his lips was that he left me free to make a choice. Then you are afraid to grieve him if you come to us. It might be and for nothing on earth. I am certain of the contrary. Will you be so good as to obtain that he says so to me himself, and then you will come. O madam, that very minute. But the warmth of my exclamation might mean a great deal and I turned my head round so as not to embarrass her. She asked me to give her her mantle to go to church and we went out. As we were going down the stairs she placed her ungloved hand upon mine. It was the first that she had granted me such a favour and it seemed to me a good omen. She took off her hand asking me whether I was feverish. Your hand, she said, is burning. When we left the church, Monshuah D'Ar's carriage happened to pass and I assisted her to get in. And as soon as she had gone, hurried to my room in order to breathe freely and to enjoy all the felicity which filled my soul. For I no longer doubted her love for me and I knew that, in this case, Monshuah D'Ar was not likely to refuse her anything. What is love? I have read plenty of ancient verbiage on the subject. I have read likewise most of what has been said by modern writers that neither all that has been said nor what I have thought about it when I was young and now that I am no longer so, nothing, in fact, can make me agree that love is a trifling vanity. It is a sort of madness. I grant that. But a madness over which philosophy is entirely powerless. It is a disease to which man is exposed at all times, no matter at what age, and which cannot be cured if he is attacked by it in his old age. Love being sentiment which cannot be explained. God of all nature, bitter and sweet feeling, love, charming monster which cannot be fathomed. God who, in the midst of all the thorns with which thou plague us, strew us so many roses on our path that, without thee, existence and death would be united and blended together. Two days after, Monshuah D'Ar told me to go and take orders from Monshuah Et on board his galley, which was ready for a five or six days voyage. I quickly packed a few things and called for my new patron who received me with great joy. We took our departure without seeing madam, who was not yet visible. We returned on the sixth day, and I went to establish myself in my new home. For, as I was preparing to go to Monshuah D'Ar to take his orders after our landing, he came himself and asking Monshuah Et and me whether we were pleased with each other. He said to me, Cassanova, as you suit each other so well, you may be certain that you will greatly please me by remaining in the service of Monshuah Et. I obeyed respectfully, and in less than one hour I had taken possession of my new quarters. Madam Et told me how delighted she was to see that great affair ended according to her wishes, and I answered with a deep reverence. I found myself like the salamander in the very heart of the fire for which I had been longing so ardently. Almost constantly in the presence of Madam Et, dining often alone with her, accompanying her in her walks, even when Monshuah D'Ar was not with us, seeing her from my room or conversing with her in her chamber, always reserved and attentive without pretension. The first night passed by without any change being brought about by that constant intercourse. Yet I was full of hope, and to keep up my courage I imagined that love was not yet powerful enough to conquer her pride. I expected everything from some lucky chance, which I promised myself to improve as soon as it should present itself, for I was persuaded that a lover is lost if he does not catch fortune by the forelock. But there was one circumstance which annoyed me. In public she seized every opportunity of treating me with distinction, while when we were alone it was exactly the reverse. In the eyes of the world I had all the appearance of a happy lover, but would rather have had less of the appearance of happiness and more of the reality. My love for her was disinterested, vanity had no share in my feelings. One day, being alone with me, she said, You have enemies, but I silenced them last night. They are envious, madam, and they would pity me if they could read the secret pages of my heart. You could easily deliver me from those enemies. How can you be an object of pity for them, and how could I deliver you from them? They believed me happy, and I am miserable. You would deliver me from them by ill-treating me in their presence. Then you would feel my bad treatment less than the envy of the wicked. Yes, madam, provided your bad treatment in public were compensated by your kindness when we are alone, for there is no vanity in the happiness I feel in belonging to you. Let others pity me. I will be happy on condition that others are mistaken. That's a part that I can never play. I would often be indiscreet enough to remain behind the curtain at the window in my room, looking at her when she thought herself perfectly certain that nobody saw her. But the liberty I was thus guilty of never proved a great advantage to me. Whether it was because she doubted my discretion or from Habitual Reserve, she was so particular that, even when I saw her in bed, my longing eyes never could obtain a sight of anything but her head. One day, being present in her room, while her maid was cutting off the points of her long and beautiful hair, I amuse myself in picking up all those pretty bits and put them all, one after the other, on her toilet table, with the exception of one small lock which I slipped into my pocket, thinking that she had not taken any notice of my keeping it. At the moment we were alone, she told me quietly, but rather too seriously, to take out of my pocket the hair I had picked up from the floor. Thinking she was going too far, and such rigor appearing to me as cruel as it was unjust and absurd, I obeyed, but threw the hair on the toilet table with an air of supreme contempt. Sir, you forget yourself. No, madam, I do not. For you might have feigned not to have observed such an innocent theft. Feigning is tiresome. Was such pretty larceny a very great crime? No crime, but it was an indication of feelings which you have no right to entertain for me. Feelings which you are at liberty not to return, madam, but which hatred or pride can alone forbid my heart to experience. If you had a heart you would not be the victim of either of those two fearful passions, but you have only head, and it must be a very wicked head, judging by the care it takes to heap humiliation upon me. You have surprised my secret, madam. You may use it as you think proper, but in the meantime I have learned to know you thoroughly. That knowledge will prove more useful than your discovery, but perhaps it will help me to become wiser. After this violent tirade I left her, and as she did not call me back, retired to my room. In the hope that sleep would bring calm I undressed and went to bed. In such moments a lover hates the object of his love, and his heart distills only contempt and hatred. I could not go to sleep, and when I was sent for at supper time I answered that I was ill. The night passed off without my eyes being visited by sleep, and feeling weak and low I thought I would wait to see what ailed me, and refused to have my dinner, sending word that I was still very unwell. Towards evening I felt my heart leap for joy when I heard my beautiful lady love enter my room. Anxiety, want of food and sleep gave me truly the appearance of being ill, and I was delighted that it should be so. I sent her away very soon by telling her with perfect indifference that it was nothing but a bad headache to which I was subject, and that repose and diet would affect a speedy cure. But at eleven o'clock she came back with her friend, Montseur, D.R., and coming to my bed she said affectionately, What ails you, my poor passinover? A very bad headache, madam, which will be cured tomorrow. Why should you wait until tomorrow? You must get better at once. I have ordered a basin of broth and two new laid eggs for you. Nothing, madam, complete abstinence can alone cure me. He is right, said Montseur, D.R., I know those attacks. I shook my head slightly. Montseur, D.R., having just then turned round to examine an engraving, she took my hand, saying that she would like me to drink some broth, and I felt that she was giving me a small parcel. She went to look at the engraving with Montseur, D.R., I opened the parcel, but feeling that it contained hair, I hurriedly concealed it under the bed clothes. At the same moment the blood rushed to my head with such violence that it actually frightened me. I begged for some water, she came to me with Montseur, D.R., and then were both frightened to see me so red, when they had seen me pale and weak only one minute before. Madam F. gave me a glass of water in which she put some O.D. calms, which instantly acted as a violent emetic. Two or three minutes after I felt better and asked for something to eat. Madam F. smiled. The servant came in with the broth and the eggs, and while I was eating I told the history of Pandolphin. Montseur, D.R., thought it was all a miracle, and I agreed on the countenance of the charming woman, love, affection and repentance. If Montseur, D.R., had not been present it would have been the moment of my happiness, but I felt certain that I should not have long to wait. Montseur, D.R., told Madam F. that if he had not seen me so sick he would have believed my illness to be all sham, that he did not think it possible for anyone to rally so rapidly. It is all owing to my O.D. calms, said Madam F., looking at me and I will leave you my bottle. No, Madam, be kind enough to take it with you, for the water would have no virtue without your presence. I am sure of that, said Montseur, D.R., so I will leave you here with your patient. No, no, he must go to sleep now. I slept all night, but in my happy dreams I was with her, and the reality itself would hardly have procured me greater enjoyment than I had during my happy slumbers. I saw I had taken a very long stride forward, for twenty-four hours of abstinence gave me the right to speak to her openly of my love, and the gift of her hair was an irrefutable confession of her own feelings. On the following day, after presenting myself before Montseur F., I went to have a little chat with the maid, to wait until her mistress was visible, which was not long, and I had the pleasure of hearing her laugh when the maid told her I was there. As soon as I went in, without giving me time to say a single word, she told me how delighted she was to see me looking so well, and advised me to call upon Montseur, D.R. It is not only in the eyes of a lover, but also in those of every man of taste, that a woman is a thousand times more lovely at the moment she comes out of the arms of Morpheus than when she has completed her toilet. Around Madame F., more brilliant beams were blazing than around the sun when he leaves the embrace of aura, yet the most beautiful woman thinks as much of her toilet as the one who cannot do without it, very likely because more human creatures possess the more they want. In the order given to me by Madame F., to call on Montseur, D.R., I saw another reason to be certain of approaching happiness, for I thought that, by dismissing me so quickly, she had only tried to postpone the conformation which I might have pressed upon her, and which she could not have refused. Rich in the possession of her hair, I held a consultation with my love to decide what I ought to do with it, for Madame F., very likely to her wish to atone for the miserly sentiment which had refused me a small bit, had given me a splendid lock, full a guard and a half long. Having thought it over, I called upon a Jewish confectioner whose daughter was a skillful embroiderer, and I made her embroider before me on a bracelet of green satin, the four initial letters of our names, and make a very thin chain with the remainder. I had a piece of black ribbon added to one end of the chain, in the shape of a sliding noose, with which I could easily strangle myself if ever love should reduce me to despair, and I passed it round my neck. As I did not want to lose even the smallest particle of so precious a treasure, I cut with a pair of scissors all the small bits which were left, and devoutly gathered them together. Then I reduced them into a fine powder, and ordered the Jewish confectioner to mix the powder in my presence with a paste made of amber, sugar, vanilla, angelica, alchemy, and storex, and I waited until the comforts prepared with that mixture were ready. I had some more made with the same composition, but without any hair. I put the first in a beautiful sweet-meat box, a fine crystal, and the second in a tortoise shell box. From the day when, by giving me her hair, Madam F had betrayed the secret feelings of her heart. I no longer lost my time in relating stories or adventures. I only spoke to her of my cove, of my ardent desires. I told her that she must either banish me from her presence or crown my happiness, but the cruel, charming woman would not accept that alternative. She answered that happiness could not be obtained by offending every moral law, and by squirthing from our duties. If I threw myself at her feet to obtain by anticipation her forgiveness for the loving violence I intended to use against her, she would repulse me more powerfully than if she had had the strength of a female Hercules. For she would say, in a voice full of sweetness and affection, My friend, I do not entreat you to respect my weakness, but be generous enough to spare me for the sake of all the love I feel for you. What? You love me, and you refuse to make me happy. It is impossible. It is unnatural. You compel me to believe that you do not love me, only allow me to press my lips one moment upon your lips, and I ask no more. No, dearest. No. It would only excite the ardour of your desires. Shave my resolution, and we should then find ourselves more miserable than we are now. All LibraBox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraBox.org. Recording by Lucy Burgoyne. Thus did she every day plunge me in despair, and yet she complained that my wit was no longer brilliant in society, that I had lost that elasticity of spirits, which had pleased her so much after my arrival from Constantinople. Monsue D.R., who often jestingly waged war against me, used to say that I was getting thinner and thinner every day. Madame If told me one day that my sickly looks were very disagreeable to her, because wicked tongues would not fail to say that she treated me with cruelty. Strange, almost unnatural thought. On it I composed an idol which I cannot read, even now without feeling tears in my eyes. What? I answered. You acknowledge your cruelty towards me. You are afraid of the world, kissing all your heartless rigour, and yet you continue to enjoy it. You condemn me, unmercifully, to the torments of tantalus. You would be delighted to see me gay, cheerful, happy, even at the expense of a judgement by which the world would find you guilty of the supposed but false kindness towards me, and yet you refuse me even the slightest favours. I do not mind people believing anything, provided it is not true. What a contrast! Would it be possible for me not to love you, for you to feel nothing for me? Such contradiction strived me, as unnatural. But you are growing thinner yourself, and I am dying. It must be so. We shall both die before long. You with consumption I have exhausting decline, for I am now reduced to enjoying your shadow during the day, during the night, always, everywhere, except when I am in your presence. At that passionate declaration delivered with all the ardour of an excited lover, she was surprised, deeply moved, and I thought that the happy hour had struck. I folded her in my arms, and was already toasting the first fruits of enjoyment. The sentinel knocked twice. Oh, fatal mischance! I recovered my composure, and stood in front of her. Monshua, D.R., made his appearance, and this time he found me in so cheerful a mood that he remained with us until one o'clock in the morning. My comforts were beginning to be the talk of our society. Monshua, D.R., made a myth, and I were the only ones who had a box full of them. I was stingy with them, and no one durst begged any from me, because I had said that they were very expensive, and that in all curfew there was no confectioner who could make all physicians who could analyse them. I never gave one out of my crystal box, and Madam F. remarked that I certainly did not believe them to be amorous filter, and I was very far from supposing that the addition of the hair made them taste more delicious. But a superstition, the offspring of my love, caused me to cherish them, and it made me happy to think that a small portion of the woman I worshipped was thus becoming a part of my being. Influence, perhaps, by some secret sympathy, Madam F. was exceedingly fond of the comforts. She asserted before all her friends that they were the universal vernacular, and knowing herself perfect mistress of the inventor, she did not inquire after the secret of the composition. But having observed that I gave away only the comforts which I kept in my tortoise shell box, and that I never eat any but those from the crystal box, she one day asked me what reason I had for that. Without taking time to think, I told her that in those I kept for myself there was a certain ingredient which made the partaker love her. I do not believe it, she answered, but are they different from those I eat myself? They are exactly the same, with the exception of the ingredient I have just mentioned, which has been put only in mine. Tell me what the ingredient is. It is a secret which I cannot reveal to you, then I will never eat any of your comforts, saying which she rose, emptied her box, and filled it again with chocolate drops, and for the next few days she was angry with me and avoided my company. I felt grieved, I became low spirited, that I could not make up my mind to tell her that I was eating her hair. She inquired why I looked so sad, because you refused to take my comforts. You are master of your secret, and I am mistress of my diet, that is my reward for having taken you into my confidence, and I opened my box, emptied its contents in my hand, and spied the whole of them saying, two more doses like this, and I shall die mad with love for you. Then you will be revenge for my reserve. Farewell, madam. She called me back, made me take a seat near her, and told me not to commit follies which would make her unhappy. Then I knew how much she loved me, and that it was not owing to the effect of any drug. To prove to you, she added, that you do not require anything of the sort to be loved. Here is a token of my affection, and she offered me her lovely lips, and upon the mine remained pressed until I was compelled to draw a breath. I threw myself at her feet, with tears of love and gratitude, blinding my eyes, and told her that I would confess my crime if she would promise to forgive me. Your crime, you frighten me. Yes, I forgive you, but speak quickly, and tell me all. Yes, everything. My comforts contain your hair reduced to a powder. Here on my arm, see this bracelet on which our names are written with your hair, and round my neck this chain of the same material, which will help me to destroy my life when your love fails me. Such is my crime, but I would not have been guilty of it if I had not loved you. She smiled, and, bidding me rise from my kneeling position, she told me that I was indeed the most criminal of men, and she wiped away my tears, assuring me that I should never have any reason to strangle myself with the chain. After that conversation, in which I had endured the sweet nectar of my divinity's first kiss, I had the courage to behave in a very different manner. She could see the ardour which consumed me, perhaps the same fire burned in her veins, but I abstained from any attack. What gives you, she said one day, the strength to control yourself. After the kiss which you granted to me of your own accord, I felt that I ought not to wish any favour unless your heart gave it as freely. You cannot imagine the happiness that kiss has given me. I not imagine, you ungrateful man, which of us has given that happiness. Neither you nor I, angel of my soul, that kiss so tender, so sweet, was the child of love. Yes, dearest, of love, the treasures of which are inexhaustible. The words were scarcely spoken when our lips were engaged in happy concert. She held me so tight against her bosom that I could not use my hands to secure other pleasures, but I felt myself perfectly happy. After that delightful skirmish, I asked her whether we were never to go any further. Never, dearest friend, never. Love is a child which must be amused with trifles. Two substantial food would kill it. I know love better than you. It requires that substantial food, and unless it can obtain it, love dies of exhaustion. Do not refuse me the consolation of hope. Hope as much as you please if it makes you happy. What should I do if I had no hope? I hope because I know you have a heart. I, yes, do you recollect the day when in your anger you told me that I had only a head, but no heart, thinking you were insulting me grossly? Oh, yes, I recollect. How heartily I laughed when I had time to think. Yes, dearest, I have a heart, or I should not feel as happy as I feel now. Let us keep our happiness and be satisfied with it, as it is without wishing for anything else. Obedient to her wishes that every day more, deeply, innermore'd, I was in hope that nature at last would prove stronger than prejudice, and would cause a fortunate crisis. But, besides nature, fortune was my friend, and I owed my happiness to an accident. Madam F. was walking one day in the garden, leaning on Montseua D.R.'s arm, and was caught by a large rose bush, and the prickly thorns left a deep cut on her leg. Montseua D.R. bandaged the wound with his handkerchief, so as to stop the blood which was flowing abundantly, and she had to be carried home in a peloniquin. In Corfu, wounds on the legs are dangerous when they are not well attended to, and very often the wounded are compelled to leave the city to be cured. Madam F. was confined to her bed, and my lucky position in the house condemned me to remain constantly at her orders. I saw her every minute, but during the first three days visitors succeeded each other without intermission, and I never was alone with her. In the evening, after everybody had gone, and her husband had retired to his own apartment, Montseua D.R. remained another hour, and for the sake of propriety I had to take my leave at the same time that he did. I had much more liberty before the accident, and I told her so half seriously, half chestingly. The next day, to make up for my disappointment, she contrived a moment of happiness for me. An elderly surgeon came every morning to dress her wound, during which operation her maid only was present, but I used to go in the morning, disobeyed, to the girl's room and to wait there, so as to be the first to hear how my dear one was. That morning the girl came to tell me to go in as the surgeon was dressing the wound. See whether my leg is less inflamed. To give an opinion, madam, I ought to have seen it yesterday. True, I feel great pain, and I am afraid of erasicillus. Do not be afraid, madam, said the surgeon, keep your bed, and I answer for your complete recovery. The surgeon, being busy preparing a poultice at the other end of the room, and the maid out, I inquired whether she felt any hardness in the calf of the leg, and whether the inflammation went up the limb, and naturally my eyes and my hands kept paced with my questions. I saw no inflammation, I felt no hardness, but—and the lovely patient hurriedly let the curtain fall, smiling, and allowing me to take a sweet kiss, the perfume of which I had not enjoyed for many days. It was a sweet moment, a delicious ecstasy. From her mouth my lips descended to her wound, and satisfied in that moment that my kisses were the best of medicines. I would have kept my lips there if the noise made by the maid coming back had not compelled me to give up my delightful occupation. When we were left alone, burning with intense desires, I entreated her to grant happiness at least to my eyes. I felt humiliated, I said to her, by the thought that the felicity I had just enjoyed was only a theft. But supposing you were mistaken, the next day I was again present at the dressing of the wound, and as soon as the surgeon had left she asked me to arrange her pillows, which I did at once, as if to make that pleasant office easier. She raised the bedclothes to support herself, and she thus gave me a sight of beauties which intoxicated my eyes, and I protracted the easy operation without her complaining of my being too slow. When I had done, I was in a fearful state, and I threw myself in an armchair opposite her bed, half dead, in a sort of trance. I was looking at that lovely being who, almost artless, was continually granting me greater and still great favours, and yet never allowed me to reach the goal for which I was so ardently longing. What are you thinking of, she said, of the supreme felicity I have just been enjoying. You are a cruel man. No, I am not cruel, for if you love me you must not blush for your indulgence. You must know, too, that loving you passionately I must not suppose that it is to be a surprise that I am indebted for my happiness in the enjoyment of the most ravishing sights. For if I owed it only to mere chance I should be compelled to believe that any other man in my position might have had the same happiness, and such an idea would be misery to me. Let me be indebted to you for having proved to me this morning how much enjoyment I can derive from one of my senses. Can you be angry with my eyes? Yes, they belong to you. Tear them out. The next day, the moment the doctor had gone, she sent her maid out to make some purchases. Ah, she said a few minutes after. My maid has forgotten to change my chemise. Allow me to take her place. Very well, but recollect that I give permission only to your eyes to take a share in the proceedings. Agreed. She unlaced herself, took off her stays and her chemise, and told me to be quick and put on the clean one. But I was not speedy enough, being too much engaged by all I could see. Give me my chemise, she exclaimed. It is there on that small table. Where? There, near the bed. Well, I will take it myself. She leaned over towards the table, and exposed almost everything I was longing for. And, turning slowly round, she handed me the chemise, which I could hardly hold, trembling all over with fearful excitement. She took pity on me. My hand shared the happiness of my eyes. I fell in her arms, our lips fastened together, and, in a voluptuous ardent pressure, we enjoyed an amorous exhaustion, not sufficient to allay our desires, but delightful enough to deceive them for the moment. With greater control over herself than women have generally under similar circumstances, she took care to let me reach under the porch of the temple, without granting me yet a free entrance to the sanctuary. End of Chapter 15 Part 4 Chapter 16 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. Recording by Michelle Harris The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova Volume 1, The Venetian Years by Giacomo Casanova Episode 4 Return to Venice Chapter 16 The wound was rapidly healing up, and I saw near at hand the moment when Madame F. would leave her bed and resume her usual avocations. The Governor of the Galleases, having issued orders for a general review at Goyne, M. F. left for that place in his galley, telling me to join him there early on the following day with the Faluka. I took supper alone with Madame F., and I told her how unhappy it made me to remain one day away from her. Let us make up tonight for tomorrow's disappointment, she said, and let us spend it together in conversation. Here are the keys, when you know that my maid has left me, come to me through my husband's room. I did not fail to follow her instructions to the letter, and we found ourselves alone with five hours before us. It was the month of June, and the heat was intense. She had gone to bed. I folded her in my arms. She pressed me to her bosom. But, condemning herself to the most cruel torture, she thought I had no right to complain if I was subjected to the same privation which she imposed upon herself. My remonstrances, my prayers, my entreaties were of no avail. Love, she said, must be kept in check with a tight hand, and we can laugh at him since, in spite of the tyranny which we force him to obey, we succeed all the same in gratifying our desires. After the first ecstasy, our eyes and lips unclose together, and a little apart from each other, we take delight in seeing the mutual satisfaction beaming on our features. Our desires revive. She casts a look upon my state of innocence entirely exposed to her sight. She seems vexed at my want of excitement, and throwing off everything which makes the heat unpleasant and interferes with our pleasure, she bounds upon me. It is more than amorous fury. It is desperate lust. I share her frenzy. I hug her with a sort of delirium. I enjoy a felicity which is on the point of carrying me to the regions of bliss, but, at the very moment of completing the offering, she fails me, moves off, slips away, and comes back to work off my excitement with a hand which strikes me as cold as ice. Ah, thou cruel, beloved woman, thou art burning with the fire of love, and thou deprivesst thyself of the only remedy which could bring calm to thy senses. Thy lovely hand is more humane than thou art, but thou hast not enjoyed the felicity that thy hand has given me. My hand must owe nothing to thine. Come, darling light of my heart, come. Love doubles my existence in the hope that I will die again, but only in that charming retreat from which you have ejected me in the very moment of my greatest enjoyment. While I was speaking thus, her very soul was breathing forth the most tender size of happiness, and as she pressed me tightly in her arms, I felt that she was weltering in an ocean of bliss. Silence lasted rather a long time, but that unnatural felicity was imperfect and increased my excitement. How can't thou complain, she said tenderly, when it is to that very imperfection of our enjoyment that we are indebted for its continuance? I loved thee a few minutes since, now I love thee a thousand times more, and perhaps I should love thee less if thou hadst carried my enjoyment to its highest limit. Oh, how much art thou mistaken, lovely one, how great is thy error! Thou art feeding upon sophisms, and thou leaveest reality aside. I mean nature which alone can give real felicity. Desires constantly renewed and never fully satisfied are more terrible than the torments of hell. But are not these desires happiness when they are always accompanied by hope? No, if that hope is always disappointed, it becomes hell itself because there is no hope, and hope must die when it is killed by constant deception. Dearest, if hope does not exist in hell, desires cannot be found there either, for to imagine desires without hopes would be more than madness. Well, answer me, if you desire to be mine entirely, and if you feel the hope of it, which, according to your way of reasoning, is a natural consequence, why do you always raise an impediment to your own hope? Cease, dearest, cease to deceive yourself by absurd sophisms. Let us be as happy as it is in nature to be, and be quite certain that the reality of happiness will increase our love, and that love will find a new life in our very enjoyment. What I see proves the contrary. You are alive with excitement now, but if your desires had been entirely satisfied, you would be dead, benumbed, motionless. I know it by experience. If you had breathed the full ecstasy of enjoyment as you desired, you would have found a weak ardor only at long intervals. Ah, charming creature, your experience is but very small. Do not trust to it. I see that you have never known love. That which you call love's grave is the sanctuary in which it receives life, the abode which makes it immortal. Give way to my prayers, my lovely friend, and then you shall know the difference between love and hymen. You shall see that, if hymen likes to die in order to get rid of life, love, on the contrary, expires only to springing up again into existence, and hastens to revive, so as to savor new enjoyment. Let me deceive you, and believe me when I say that the full gratification of desires can only increase a hundredfold the mutual ardor of two beings who adore each other. Well, I must believe you, but let us wait. In the meantime, let us enjoy all the trifles, all the sweet preliminaries of love. Devour thy mistress, dearest, but abandon to me all thy being. If this night is too short, we must console ourselves tomorrow by making arrangements for another one. And if our inner course should be discovered, do we make a mystery of it? Everybody can see that we love each other, and those who think that we do not enjoy the happiness of lovers are precisely the only persons we have to fear. We must only be careful to guard against being surprised in the very act of proving our love. Heaven and nature must protect our affection, for there is no crime when two hearts are blended in true love. Since I have been conscious of my own existence, love has always seemed to me the God of my being, for every time I saw a man I was delighted. I thought that I was looking upon one half of myself, because I felt I was made for him and he for me. I longed to be married. It was that uncertain longing of the heart which occupies exclusively a young girl of fifteen. I had no conception of love, but I fancied that it naturally accompanied marriage. You can therefore imagine my surprise when my husband, in the very act of making a woman of me, gave me a great deal of pain without giving me the slightest idea of pleasure. My imagination in the convent was much better than the reality I had been condemned to by my husband. The result has naturally been that we have become very good friends, but a very indifferent husband and wife, without any desires for each other. He has every reason to be pleased with me, for I always show myself docile to his wishes, but enjoyment not being in those cases seasoned by love, he must find it without flavor, and he seldom comes to me for it. When I found out that you were in love with me, I felt delighted and gave you every opportunity of becoming every day more deeply enamored of me, thinking myself certain of never loving you myself. As soon as I felt that love had likewise attacked my heart, I ill-treated you to punish you for having made my heart sensible. Your patience and constancy have astonished me, and have caused me to be guilty, for after the first kiss I gave you, I had no longer any control over myself. I was indeed astounded when I saw the havoc made by one single kiss, and I felt that my happiness was wrapped up in yours. That discovery flattered and delighted me, and I have found out, particularly to-night, that I cannot be happy unless you are so yourself. That is, my beloved, the most refined of all sentiments experienced by love, but it is impossible for you to render me completely happy without following in everything the laws and the wishes of nature. The night was spent in tender discussions and in exquisite voluptuousness, and it was not without some grief that at daybreak I tore myself from her arms to go to going. She wept for joy when she saw that I left her without having lost a particle of my vigor, for she did not imagine such a thing possible. After that night, so rich in delights, ten or twelve days passed without giving us any opportunity of quenching even a small particle of my thirst which devoured us, and it was then that a fearful misfortune befell me. One evening after supper, M.D.R., having retired, M.F. used no ceremony, and although I was present, told his wife that he intended to pay her a visit after writing two letters which he had to dispatch early the next morning. The moment he had left the room, we looked at each other, and with one accord fell into each other's arms. A torrent of delights rushed through our souls without restraint, without reserve, but when the first ardour had been appeased, without giving me time to think or to enjoy the most complete, the most delicious victory, she drew back, repulsed me and threw herself, panting, distracted, upon a chair near her bed. Rooted to the spot, astonished, almost mad, I tremblingly looked at her, trying to understand what had caused such an extraordinary action. She turned round towards me and said, her eyes flashing with the fire of love, my darling, we were on the brink of the precipice. The precipice? Ah, cruel woman, you have killed me. I feel myself dying, and perhaps you will never see me again. I left her in a state of frenzy and rushed out towards the esplanade to cool myself, or I was choking. Any man who has not experienced the cruelty of an action like that of Madame F, and especially in the situation I found myself in at that moment, mentally and bodily, can hardly realize what I suffered, and although I have felt that suffering, I could not give an idea of it. I was in that fearful state when I heard my name from a window and, unfortunately, I condescended to answer. I went near the window and I saw, thanks to the moonlight, the famous Malula standing on her balcony. What are you doing there at this time of night? I inquired. I am enjoying the cool evening breeze, come up for a little while. This Malula of fatal memory was a courtesan from Zamtea, of rare beauty, who for the last four months had been the delight and the rage of all the young men in Corfu. Those who had known her agreed in extolling her charms. She was the talk of all the city. I had seen her often, but although she was very beautiful, I was very far from thinking her as lovely as Madame F, putting my affection for the latter on one side. I recollect seeing in Dresden in the year 1790 a very handsome woman who was the image of Malula. I went upstairs mechanically, and she took me to a voluptuous boudoir. She complained of my being the only one who had never paid her a visit. When I was the man she would have preferred to all others, and I had the infamy to give way, I became the most criminal of men. It was neither desire nor imagination the merit of the woman which caused me to yield, for Malula was in no way worthy of me. No, it was weakness, indolence, and the state of bodily and mental irritation in which I then found myself. It was a sort of spite because the angel whom I adored had displeased me by a caprice which, had I not been unworthy of her, would only have caused me to be still more attached to her. Malula, highly pleased with her success, refused the gold I wanted to give her, and allowed me to go after I had spent two hours with her. When I recovered my composure, I had but one feeling, hatred for myself and for the contemptible creature who had allured me to be guilty of so violent insult to the loveliest of her sex. I went home to pray to fearful remorse, and went to bed, but sleep never closed my eyes throughout that cruel night. In the morning, worn out with fatigue and sorrow, I got up, and as soon as I was dressed, I went to M. F., who had sent for me to give me some orders. After I had returned, and had given him an account of my mission, I called upon Madame F., and, finding her at her toilet, I wished her good morning, observing that her lovely face was breathing the cheerfulness and the calm of happiness. But suddenly, her eyes meeting mine, I saw her countenance change, and an expression of sadness replaced her looks of satisfaction. She cast her eyes down as if she was deep in thought, raised them again as if to read my very soul, and, breaking our painful silence, as soon as she had dismissed her maid, she said to me, with an accent full of tenderness and of solemnity, Dear one, let there be no concealment, either on my part or on yours. I felt deeply grieved for how you leave me last night, and a little consideration made me understand all the evil which might accrue to you in consequence of what I had done. With a nature like yours, such scenes might cause very dangerous disorders, and I have resolved not to do again anything by haves. I thought that you went out to breathe the fresh air, and I hoped it would do you good. I placed myself at my window where I remained more than an hour in my room. Sorry for what I had done, loving you more than ever, I was compelled, when my husband came to my room, to go to bed with the sad conviction that you had not come home. This morning M. F. sent an officer to tell you that he wanted to see you, and I heard the messenger inform him that you were not yet up, and that you had come home very late. I felt my heart swell with sorrow. I am not jealous, I only felt afraid of some misfortune. At last, this morning, when I heard you coming, I was happy, because I was ready to show my repentance. But I looked at you, and you seemed a different man. Now I am still looking at you, and in spite of myself, my soul reads upon your countenance that you are guilty, that you have outraged my love. Tell me at once, dearest, if I am mistaken. You have deceived me, say so openly. Do not be unfaithful to love and to truth. Knowing that I was the cause of it, I should never forgive myself, but there is an excuse for you in my heart, in my whole being. More than once, in the course of my life, I have found myself under the painful necessity of telling falsehoods to the woman I loved. But in this case, after so true, so touching and appeal, I felt myself sufficiently debased by my crime, and I could not degrade myself still more by falsehood. I was so far from being disposed to such a line of conduct that I could not speak, and I burst out crying. What, my darling, you are weeping. Your tears make me miserable. You ought not to have shed any with me, but tears of happiness and love. Quick, my beloved, tell me whether you have made me wretched. In revenge, you have taken on me who would rather die than offend you. If I have caused you any sorrow, it has been in the innocence of a loving and devoted heart. My own, darling angel, I never thought of revenge, for my heart, which can never cease to adore you, could never conceive such a dreadful idea. It is against my own heart that my cowardly weakness has allured me to the commission of a crime which, for the remainder of my life, have you then given yourself to some wretched woman? Yes, I have spent two hours in the vilest debauchery, and my soul was present only to be the witness of my sadness, of my remorse, of my unworthiness. Sadness and remorse, oh, my poor friend, I believe it, but it is my fault. I alone ought to suffer. Those made mine flow again. Divine soul, I said, the reproaches you are addressing to yourself increase twofold the gravity of my crime. You would never have been guilty of any wrong against me if I had been really worthy of your love. I felt deeply the truth of my words. We spent the remainder of the day apparently quiet and composed, concealing our sadness in the depths of our hearts. She was curious to know all the circumstances of my miserable adventure, and accepting it as an expiation I related them to her. Full of kindness, she assured me that we were bound to ascribe that accident to fate and that the same thing might have happened to the best of men. She added that I was more to be pitied than condemned and that she did not love me less. We both were certain of her horrible opportunity, she of obtaining her pardon, I of atoning for my crime by giving each other new and complete proofs of our mutual ardor. But heaven in its justice had ordered differently and I was cruelly punished for my disgusting debauchery. On the third day as I got up in the morning an awful pricking announced the horrid state into which the wretched length of the misery which I might have caused if during the last three days I had obtained some new favor from my lovely mistress. I was on the point of going mad. What would have been her feelings if I had made her unhappy for the remainder of her life? Would anyone then, knowing the whole case, have condemned me if I had destroyed my own life in order to deliver myself from everlasting remorse? And yet, I, as a servant of her, thus performing upon himself the execution of the sentence he would have deserved at the hands of justice, cannot be blamed either by a virtuous philosopher or by a tolerant Christian. But if one thing I am quite certain if such a misfortune had happened I should have committed suicide. Overwhelmed with grief by the discovery I had just made but thinking that I would have endured myself for a strict diet which would restore my health in six weeks without anyone having any suspicion of my illness. But I soon found out that I had not seen the end of my troubles. Melula had communicated to my system all the poisons which corrupt the source of life. I was acquainted with an elderly doctor of great experience in those matters. He was his word. At the beginning of September I found myself in good health and it was about that time that I returned to Venice. The first thing I resolved on as soon as I discovered the state I was in was to confess everything to Madame F. I did not wish to wait for the time when a compulsory confession would have made her blush for her weakness and given her cause her affection was too dear to me to run the risk of losing it through a want of confidence in her knowing her heart her candor and the generosity which had prompted her to say that I was more to be pitied and blamed I thought myself bound to prove by my sincerity that I deserved her esteem. I told her candidly my position and the state I had been thrown in when I thought of the dreadful consequences it might have had for her to shudder and tremble and she turned pale with fear when I added that I would have avenged her by killing myself. Villainess infamous Malula she exclaimed and I repeated those words but turning them against myself when I realized all I had sacrificed through the most disgusting weakness everyone in Corfu knew of my visit to the wretched Malula and everyone seemed surprised to see the appearance of health for many were the victims that she had treated like me. My illness was not my only sorrow I had others which although of a different nature were not less serious it was written in the book of fate that I should return to Venice a simple ensign as when I left the general did not keep his word and the bastard son of a nobleman was promoted to the lieutenancy instead of myself from that moment the military profession of military despotism inspired me with disgust and I determined to give it up but I had another still more important motive for sorrow in the fickleness of fortune which had completely turned against me I remarked that from the time of my degradation with Malula every kind of misfortune befell me the greatest of all that which I felt most but which I had the good sense to try and consider a favor of the army M. D. R. took me again for his adjutant and M. F. had to engage another in my place on the occasion of that change Madame F. told me with an appearance of regret that in Venice we could not for many reasons continue our intimacy I begged her to spare me the reasons as I foresaw that they would only throw humiliation upon me I began to discover that the goddess I had worshiped was after all a poor human being like all other women and to think that I should have been very foolish to give up my life for her I probed in one day the real worth of her heart for she told me I cannot recollect in reference to what that I excited her pity I saw clearly that she no longer loved me pity is a debasing feeling which cannot find a home a heart full of love for that dreary sentiment is too near a relative of contempt since that time I never found myself alone with Madame F I loved her still I could easily have made her blush but I did not do it as soon as we reached Venice she became attached to M. F. R. whom she loved until death took him from her she was unhappy enough to lose her sight twenty years after I believed she is still alive during the last two months of my stay in Corfu I learned the most bitter and important lessons in after years I often derived useful hints from the experience I acquired at that time before my adventure with the worthless Malula I enjoyed good health I was rich, lucky at play liked by everybody everybody would listen and admire my wit my words were taken for oracles and everyone coincided with me and everything after my fatal meeting with the courtesan I rapidly lost my health my money, my credit cheerfulness, consideration, wit, everything even the faculty of eloquence vanished with fortune I would talk but people knew that I was unfortunate and I no longer the influence I had over Madame F faded away little by little and almost without her knowing it the lovely woman became completely indifferent to me I left Corfu without money although I had sold or pledged everything I had of any value twice I had reached Corfu rich and happy twice I left it poor and miserable but this time I had contracted debts which I have never paid not through want of will but through carelessness rich and in good health everyone received me with open arms poor and looking sick no one showed me any consideration with a full purse and a tone of a conqueror I was thought witty, amusing with an empty purse and a modest air all I said appeared dull and insipid if I had become rich again how soon I would have been again the eighth wonder of the world oh men, oh fortune everyone avoided me as if the ill luck which crushed me down was infectious we left Corfu towards the end of September with five galleys two galleasses and several smaller vessels under the command of M. Renier we sailed along the shores of the Adriatic towards the north of the gulf where there are great many harbors and we put in one of them every night I saw Madame F. every evening she always came with her husband to take supper on board our galleass we had a fortunate voyage and cast anchor in the harbor of Venice on the 14th of October, 1745 and after having performed quarantine on board our ships we landed on the 25th of November two months afterwards the galleasses were set aside altogether the use of these vessels could be traced very far back in ancient times their maintenance was very expensive and they were useless a galleass had the frame of a frigate with the rowing apparatus of the galley and when there was no wind 500 slaves had to row before simple good sense managed to prevail and to enforce the suppression of these useless carcasses there were long discussions in the senate and those who opposed the measures took their principal ground of opposition in the necessity of respecting and conserving all the institutions of olden times that is the disease of persons who can never identify themselves with the successive improvements born of reason and experience worthy persons who ought to be sent to China or to the dominions of the grand llama where they would certainly be more at home than in Europe that ground of opposition to all improvements however absurd it may be is a very powerful one in a republic which must tremble at the mere idea of novelty either in important or in trifling things superstition has likewise a great part to play in these conservative views there is one thing that the Republic of Venice will never alter I mean the galleass because the Venetians truly require such vessels to ply in all weathers and in spite of the frequent comms in a narrow sea and because they would not know what to do with the men sentenced to hard labor I have observed a singular thing in Corfu where there are often as many as 3,000 galley slaves it is that the men who row on the galleys in consequence of a sentence passed upon them for some crime are held in a kind of approbrium whilst those who are there voluntarily are to some extent respected I have always thought it ought to be the reverse because misfortune whatever it may be ought to inspire some sort of respect but the vile fellow who condemns himself voluntarily and as a trade to the position of a slave seems to me contemptible in the highest degree the convicts of the republic however enjoy many privileges and are in every way better treated than the soldiers it very often occurs that soldiers desert and give themselves up to a soprocomito to become galley slaves in those cases the captain who loses a soldier has nothing to do but to submit patiently for he would claim the man in vain the reason of it is that the republic has always believed galley slaves more necessary than soldiers the Venetians may perhaps now I am writing these lines and begin to realize their mistake a galley slave for instance has the privilege of stealing with impunity it is considered that stealing is the least crime they can be guilty of and that they ought to be forgiven for it keep on your guard says the master of the galley slave and if you catch him in the act of stealing thrash him but be careful not to cripple him otherwise you must pay me the one hundred ducats the man has cost me a court of justice could not have a galley slave taken from a galley without paying the master the amount he has dispersed for the man as soon as I had landed in Venice I called upon Madame Oreo but I found the house empty a neighbor told me that she had married the procurator Rosa and had removed to his house I went immediately to M. Rosa and was well received Madame Oreo informed me that Nanette had become Countess R and was living in Guastalla with her husband four years afterwards I met her eldest son then a distinguished officer in the service of the Infante of Parma as for Martin the grace of heaven had touched her and she had become a nun in the convent at Moran two years afterwards I received from her a letter full of unction in which she adjured me to present myself before her eyes she added that she was bound by Christian charity to forgive me for the crime I had committed in seducing her and she felt certain of the reward of the elect and she assured me that she would ever pray earnestly for my conversion I never saw her again but she saw me in 1754 as I will mention when we reach that year I found Madame Manzoni still the same she had predicted that I would not remain in the military profession and when I told her that I had made up my mind to give it up because I could not be reconciled to the injustice I had experienced she burst out laughing she inquired about the profession I intended to follow after giving up the army and I answered that I wished to become an advocate she laughed again saying that it was too late yet I was only 20 years old and upon Imgrimani I had a friendly welcome from him but having inquired after my brother François he told me that he had had him confined in Fort St. Andre the same to which I had been sent before the arrival of the Bishop of Martorano he works for the major there he said he copies Simonetti's battle pieces and the major pays him for them in that manner he earns his living and is becoming a good painter but he is not a prisoner well very much like it for he cannot leave the fort the major whose name is Spiridion is a friend of Rosetta who could not refuse him the pleasure of taking care of your brother I felt at a dreadful curse that the fatal Rosetta should be the tormentor of all my family but I concealed my anger is my sister I inquired still with him no she has gone to your mother in Dresden this was good news I took a cordial leave of the Abbe Grimani and I proceeded to Fort St. Andre I found my brother hard at work neither pleased nor displeased with his position and enjoying good health after embracing him affectionately I inquired what crime he had committed to be thus a prisoner asked the major he said for I have not the faintest idea the major came in just then so I gave him the military salute and asked by what authority he kept my brother under arrest I am not accountable to you for my actions that remains to be seen I then told my brother to take his hat and to come and dine with me the major laughed and said that he had no objection provided the sentinel allowed him to pass I saw that I should only waste my time in discussion and I left the fort fully bent on obtaining justice the next day I went to the war office where I had the pleasure of meeting my dear major Pelladoro who was then commander of the fortress of Chiazza I informed him of the complaint I wanted to prefer before the secretary of war respecting my brother's arrest and of the resolution I had taken to leave the army but as soon as the consent of the secretary for war could be obtained he would find a purchaser for my commission at the same price I had paid for it I had not long to wait the war secretary came to the office and everything was settled in half an hour he promised his consent to the sale of my commission as soon as he ascertained the abilities of the purchaser and major Spiridion happened to make his appearance the secretary ordered him rather angrily to set my brother at liberty immediately and cautioned him not to be guilty again of such reprehensible and arbitrary acts I went at once for my brother and we lived together in furnished lodgings a few days afterwards having received my discharge and 100 sequins I threw off my uniform and found myself once more my own master I had to earn my living in one way or another and I decided for the profession of game-ster but Dame Fortune was not of the same opinion for she refused to smile upon me from the very first step I took in the career and in less than a week I did not possess a grote what was to become of me one must live and I turned fiddler Dr. Gotze had taught me well enough to enable me to scrape on the violin in the orchestra of a theater and having mentioned my wishes to M. Grimani he procured me an engagement at his own theater of St. Samuel where I earned a crown a day and supported myself while I awaited better things fully aware of my real position I never showed myself in the fashionable circles which I used to frequent before my fortune had sunk so low I knew that I was considered as a worthless fellow but I did not care but I found comfort in the consciousness that I was worthy of contempt I felt humiliated by the position to which I was reduced after having played so brilliant a part in society but as I kept a secret to myself I was not degraded even if I felt some shame I had not exchanged my last word with Dame Fortune and was still in hope of reckoning with her some day because I was young to fortune End of Chapter 16