MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798

ADVENTURES IN THE SOUTH, Volume 4b--RETURN TO ITALY

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

RETURN TO ITALY

GENOA--TUSCANY--ROME

CHAPTER IV

The Play--The Russian--Petri--Rosalie at the Convent

When the marquis had gone, seeing Rosalie engaged with Veronique, I setmyself to translate the 'Ecossaise' for the actors at Genoa, who seemedpretty good ones, to play. 

I thought Rosalie looking sad at dinner, and said, "What is the matter, dearest? You know I do not like to see you lookingmelancholy. "

"I am vexed at Veronique's being prettier than I. "

"I see what you mean; I like that! But console your self, Veronique isnothing compared to you, in my eyes at all events. You are my onlybeauty; but to reassure you I will ask M. De Grimaldi to tell her motherto come and fetch her away, and to get me another maid as ugly aspossible. "

"Oh, no! pray do not do so; he will think I am jealous, and I wouldn'thave him think so for the world. "

"Well, well, smile again if you do not wish to vex me. "

"I shall soon do that, if, as you assure me, she will not make me loseyour love. But what made the old gentleman get me a girl like that? Doyou think he did it out of mischief?"

"No, I don't think so. I am sure, on the other hand, that he wanted tolet you know that you need not fear being compared with anybody. Are youpleased with her in other respects?"

"She works well, and she is very respectful. She does not speak fourwords without addressing me as signora, and she is careful to translatewhat she says from Italian into French. I hope that in a month I shallspeak well enough for us to dispense with her services when we go toFlorence. I have ordered Le Duc to clear out the room I have chosen forher, and I will send her her dinner from our own table. I will be kind toher, but I hope you will not make me wretched. "

"I could not do so; and I do not see what there can be in common betweenthe girl and myself. "

"Then you will pardon my fears. "

"The more readily as they shew your love. "

"I thank you, but keep my secret. "

I promised never to give a glance to Veronique, of whom I was alreadyafraid, but I loved Rosalie and would have done anything to save her theleast grief. 

I set to at my translation after dinner; it was work I liked. I did notgo out that day, and I spent the whole of the next morning with M. DeGrimaldi. 

I went to the banker Belloni and changed all my gold into gigliatisequins. I made myself known after the money was changed, and the headcashier treated me with great courtesy. I had bills on this banker forforty thousand Roman crowns, and on Lepri bills for twenty thousand. 

Rosalie did not want to go to the play again, so I got her a piece ofembroidery to amuse her in the evening. The theatre was a necessity forme; I always went unless it interfered with some still sweeter pleasure. I went by myself, and when I got home I found the marquis talking to mymistress. I was pleased, and after I had embraced the worthy nobleman Icomplimented Rosalie on having kept him till my arrival, adding gentlythat she should have put down her work. 

"Ask him, " she replied, "if he did not make me keep on. He said he wouldgo if I didn't, so I gave in to keep him. "

She then rose, stopped working, and in the course of an interestingconversation she succeeded in making the marquis promise to stay tosupper, thus forestalling my intention. He was not accustomed to takeanything at that hour, and ate little; but I saw he was enchanted with mytreasure, and that pleased me, for I did not think I had anything to fearfrom a man of sixty; besides, I was glad at the opportunity ofaccustoming Rosalie to good society. I wanted her to be a littlecoquettish, as a woman never pleases in society unless she shews a desireto please. 

Although the position was quite a strange one for her, she made me admirethe natural aptitude of women, which may be improved or spoiled by artbut which exists more or less in them all, from the throne to themilk-pail. She talked to M. De Grimaldi in a way that seemed to hint shewas willing to give a little hope. As our guest did not eat, she saidgraciously that he must come to dinner some day that she might have anopportunity of seeing whether he really had any appetite. 

When he had gone I took her on my knee, and covering her with kissesasked her where she had learnt to talk to great people so well. 

"It's an easy matter, " she replied. "Your eyes speak to my soul, and tellme what to do and what to say. "

A professed rhetorician could not have answered more elegantly or moreflatteringly. 

I finished the translation; I had it copied out by Costa and took it toRossi, the manager, who said he would put it on directly, when I told himI was going to make him a present of the play. I named the actors of mychoice, and asked him to bring them to dine with me at my inn, that Imight read the play and distribute the parts. 

As will be guessed, my invitation was accepted, and Rosalie enjoyeddining with the actors and actresses, and especially hearing herselfcalled Madame Casanova every moment. Veronique explained everything shedid not understand. 

When my actors were round me in a ring, they begged me to tell them theirparts, but I would not give in on this point. 

"The first thing to be done, " said I, "is for you to listen attentivelyto the whole piece without minding about your parts. When you know thewhole play I will satisfy your curiosity. "

I knew that careless or idle actors often pay no attention to anythingexcept their own parts, and thus a piece, though well played in itsparts, is badly rendered as a whole. 

They submitted with a tolerably good grace, which the high and mightyplayers of the Comedie Francaise would certainly not have done. Just as Iwas beginning my heading the Marquis de Grimaldi and the banker Bellonicame in to call on me. I was glad for them to be present at the trial, which only lasted an hour and a quarter. 

After I had heard the opinion of the actors, who by their praise ofvarious situations shewed me that they had taken in the plot, I toldCosta to distribute the parts; but no sooner was this done than the firstactor and the first actress began to express their displeasure; she, because I had given her the part of Lady Alton; he, because I had notgiven him Murray's part; but they had to bear it as it was my will. Ipleased everybody by asking them all to dinner for the day after themorrow, after dinner the piece to be rehearsed for the first time. 

The banker Belloni asked me to dinner for the following day, including mylady, who excused herself with great politeness, in the invitation; andM. Grimaldi was glad to take my place at dinner at her request. 

When I got to M. Belloni's, I was greatly surprised to see the impostorIvanoff, who instead of pretending not to know me, as he ought to havedone, came forward to embrace me. I stepped back and bowed, which mightbe put down to a feeling of respect, although my coldness and scantceremony would have convinced any observant eye of the contrary. He waswell dressed, but seemed sad, though he talked a good deal, and to somepurpose, especially on politics. The conversation turned on the Court ofRussia, where Elizabeth Petrovna reigned; and he said nothing, but sighedand turned away pretending to wipe the tears from his eyes. At dessert, he asked me if I had heard anything of Madame Morin, adding, as if torecall the circumstance to my memory, that we had supped together there:

"I believe she is quite well, " I answered. 

His servant, in yellow and red livery, waited on him at table. Afterdinner he contrived to tell me that he had a matter of the greatestimportance he wanted to discuss with me. 

"My only desire sir, is to avoid all appearance of knowing anything aboutyou. "

"One word from you will gain me a hundred thousand crowns, and you shallhave half. "

I turned my back on him, and saw him no more at Genoa. 

When I got back to the inn I found M. De Grimaldi giving Rosalie a lessonin Italian. 

"She has given me an exquisite dinner, " said he, "you must be very happywith her. "

In spite of his honest face, M. Grimaldi was in love with her, but Ithought I had nothing to fear. Before he went she invited him to come tothe rehearsal next day. 

When the actors came I noticed amongst them a young man whose face I didnot know, and on my enquiring Rossi told me he was the prompter. 

"I won't have any prompter; send him about his business. "

"We can't get on without him. "

"You'll have to; I will be the prompter. "

The prompter was dismissed, but the three actresses began to complain. 

"If we knew our parts as well as the 'pater noster' we should be certainto come to a dead stop if the prompter isn't in his box. "

"Very good, " said I to the actress, who was to play Lindane, "I willoccupy the box myself, but I shall see your drawers. "

"You would have some difficulty in doing that, " said the first actor, "she doesn't wear any. "

"So much the better. "

"You know nothing about it, " said the actress. 

These remarks put us all in high spirits, and the ministers of Thaliaended by promising that they would dispense with a prompter. I waspleased with the way the piece was read, and they said they would beletter-perfect in three days. But something happened. 

On the day fixed for the rehearsal they came without the Lindane andMurray. They were not well, but Rossi said they would not fail useventually. I took the part of Murray, and asked Rosalie to be theLindane. 

"I don't read Italian well enough, " she whispered, "and I don't wish tohave the actors laughing at me; but Veronique could do it. "

"Ask if she will read the part. "

However, Veronique said that she could repeat it by heart. 

"All the better, " said I to her, laughing internally, as I thought ofSoleure, for I saw that I should thus be obliged to make love to the girlto whom I had not spoken for the fortnight she had been with us. I hadnot even had a good look at her face. I was so afraid of Rosalie (whom Iloved better every day) taking fright. 

What I had feared happened. When I took Veronique's hand, and said, "Si, bella Lindana, debbe adorarvi!" everybody clapped, because I gave thewords their proper expression; but glancing at Rosalie I saw a shadow onher face, and I was angry at not having controlled myself better. Nevertheless, I could not help feeling amazed at the way Veronique playedthe part. When I told her that I adored her she blushed up to her eyes;she could not have played the love-sick girl better. 

We fixed a day for the dress-rehearsal at the theatre, and the companyannounced the first night a week in advance to excite public curiosity. The bills ran:

"We shall give Voltaire's Ecossaise, translated by an anonymous author:no prompter will be present. "

I cannot give the reader any idea of the trouble I had to quiet Rosalie. She refused to be comforted; wept incessantly, and touched my heart bygentle reproaches. 

"You love Veronique, " said she, "and you only translated that piece tohave an opportunity of declaring your love. "

I succeeded in convincing her that she wronged me, and at last after Ihad lavished caresses on her she suffered herself to be calmed. Nextmorning she begged pardon for her jealousy, and to cure it insisted on myspeaking constantly to Veronique. Her heroism went farther. She got upbefore me and sent me my coffee by Veronique, who was as astonished as Iwas. 

At heart Rosalie was a great creature, capable of noble resolves, butlike all women she gave way to sudden emotions. From that day she gave meno more signs of jealousy, and treated her maid with more kindness thanever. Veronique was an intelligent and well-mannered girl, and if myheart had not been already occupied she would have reigned there. 

The first night of the play I took Rosalie to a box, and she would haveVeronique with her. M. De Grimaldi did not leave her for a moment. Theplay was praised to the skies; the large theatre was full of the bestpeople in Genoa. The actors surpassed themselves, though they had noprompter, and were loudly applauded. The piece ran five nights and wasperformed to full houses. Rossi, hoping perhaps that I would make him apresent of another play, asked my leave to give my lady a superb pelisseof lynx-fur, which pleased her immensely. 

I would have done anything to spare my sweetheart the least anxiety, andyet from my want of thought I contrived to vex her. I should never haveforgiven myself if Providence had not ordained that I should be the causeof her final happiness. 

"I have reason to suspect, " she said one day, "that I am with child, andI am enchanted at the thought of giving you a dear pledge of my love. "

"If it comes at such a time it will be mine, and I assure you I shalllove it dearly. "

"And if it comes two or three weeks sooner you will not be sure that youare the parent?"

"Not quite sure; but I shall love it just as well, and look upon it as mychild as well as yours. "

"I am sure you must be the father. It is impossible the child can bePetri's, who only knew me once, and then very imperfectly, whilst you andI have lived in tender love for so long a time. "

She wept hot tears. 

"Calm yourself, dearest, I implore you! You are right; it cannot bePetri's child. You know I love you, and I cannot doubt that you are withchild by me and by me alone. If you give me a baby as pretty as yourself, it will be mine indeed. Calm yourself. "

"How can I be calm when you can have such a suspicion?"

We said no more about it; but in spite of my tenderness, my caresses, andall the trifling cares which bear witness to love, she was often sad andthoughtful. How many times I reproached myself bitterly for having letout my silly calculations. 

A few days later she gave me a sealed letter, saying, --

"The servant has given me this letter when you were away. I am offendedby his doing so, and I want you to avenge me. "

I called the man, and said, --

"Where did you get this letter?"

"From a young man, who is unknown to me. He gave me a crown, and beggedme to give the letter to the lady without your seeing me, and he promisedto give me two crowns more if I brought him a reply tomorrow. I did notthink I was doing wrong, sir, as the lady was at perfect liberty to tellyou. "

"That's all very well, but you must go, as the lady, who gave me theletter unopened, as you can see for yourself, is offended with you. "

I called Le Duc, who paid the man and sent him away. I opened the letter, and found it to be from Petri. Rosalie left my side, not wishing to readthe contents. The letter ran as follows:

"I have seen you, my dear Rosalie. It was just as you were coming out ofthe theatre, escorted by the Marquis de Grimaldi, who is my godfather. Ihave not deceived you; I was still intending to come and marry you atMarseilles next spring, as I promised. I love you faithfully, and if youare still my good Rosalie I am ready to marry you here in the presence ofmy kinfolk. If you have done wrong I promise never to speak of it, for Iknow that it was I who led you astray. Tell me, I entreat you, whether Imay speak to the Marquis de Grimaldi with regard to you. I am ready toreceive you from the hands of the gentleman with whom you are living, provided you are not his wife. Be sure, if you are still free, that youcan only recover your honour by marrying your seducer. "

"This letter comes from an honourable man who is worthy of Rosalie, " Ithought to myself, "and that's more than I shall be, unless I marry hermyself. But Rosalie must decide. "

I called her to me, gave her the letter, and begged her to read itattentively. She did so, and gave it me back, asking me if I advised herto accept Petri's offer. 

"If you do dear Rosalie, I shall die of grief; but if I do not yield you, my honour bids me marry you, and that I am quite ready to do. "

At this the charming girl threw herself on my breast, crying in the voiceof true love, "I love you and you alone, darling; but it is not true thatyour honour bids you marry me. Ours is a marriage of the heart; our loveis mutual, and that is enough for my happiness. "

"Dear Rosalie, I adore you, but I am the best judge of my own honour. IfPetri is a well-to-do man and a man who would make you happy, I musteither give you up or take you myself. "

"No, no; there is no hurry to decide. If you love me I am happy, for Ilove you and none other. I shall not answer the letter, and I don't wantto hear anything more of Petri. "

"You may be sure that I will say no more of him, but I am sure that themarquis will have a hand in it. "

"I daresay, but he won't speak to me twice on the subject. "

After this treaty--a more sincere one than the Powers of Europe usuallymake--I resolved to leave Genoa as soon as I got some letters forFlorence and Rome. In the meanwhile all was peace and love between myselfand Rosalie. She had not the slightest shadow of jealousy in her soul, and M. De Grimaldi was the sole witness of our happiness. 

Five or six days later I went to see the marquis at his casino at St. Pierre d'Arena, and he accosted me by saying that he was happy to see meas he had an important matter he wished to discuss with me. I guessedwhat it would be, but begged him to explain himself. He then spoke asfollows:

"A worthy merchant of the town brought his nephew, a young man namedPetri, to see me two days ago. He told me that the young man is mygodson, and he asked me to protect him. I answered that as his godfatherI owed him my protection, and I promised to do what I could. 

"He left my godson to talk it over with me, and he informed me that heknew your mistress before you did at Marseilles, that he had promised tomarry her next spring, that he had seen her in my company, and thathaving followed us he found out that she lived with you. He was told thatshe was your wife, but not believing it, wrote her a letter saying thathe was ready to marry her; but this letter fell into your hands, and hehas had no reply to it. 

"He could not make up his mind to lose a hope which made his happiness, so he resolved to ascertain, through my good offices, whether Rosaliewould accept his proposition. He flatters himself that on his informingme of his prosperous condition, I can tell you that he is a likely man tomake his wife happy. I told him that I knew you, and would speak to youon the matter, and afterwards inform him of the result of our interview. 

"I have made enquires into his condition, and find that he has alreadyamassed a considerable sum of money. His credit, morals, and reputation, are all excellent; besides, he is his uncle's sole heir, and the unclepasses for a man very comfortably off. And now, my dear M. Casanova, tellme what answer I am to make. "

"Tell him that Rosalie is much obliged to him, and begs him to forgether. We are going away in three or four days. Rosalie loves me, and Iher, and I am ready to marry her whenever she likes. "

"That's plain speaking; but I should have thought a man like you wouldprefer freedom to a woman, however beautiful, to whom you would be boundby indissoluble ties. Will you allow me to speak to Rosalie myself aboutit?"

"You need not ask, my leave; speak to her, but in your own person and notas representing my opinions. I adore her, and would not have her thinkthat I could cherish the thought of separating from her. "

"If you don't want me to meddle in the matter, tell me so frankly. "

"On the contrary, I wish you to see for yourself that I am not the tyrantof the woman I adore. "

"I will talk to her to-night. "

I did not come home till supper-time, that the marquis might say what hehad to say in perfect freedom. The noble Genoese supped with us, and theconversation turned on indifferent subjects. After he had gone, mysweetheart told me what had passed between them. He had spoken to her inalmost the same words that he had addressed to me, and our replies werenearly identical, though she had requested the marquis to say no moreabout his godson, to which request he had assented. 

We thought the matter settled, and busied ourselves with preparations forour departure; but three or four days after, the marquis (who we imaginedhad forgotten all about his godson) came and asked us to dine with him atSt. Pierre d'Arena, where Rosalie had never been. 

"I want you to see my beautiful garden before you go, " said M. Grimaldito her; "it will be one more pleasant recollection of your stay for me. "

We went to see him at noon the next day. He was with an elderly man andwoman, to whom he introduced us. He introduced me by name, and Rosalie asa person who belonged to me. 

We proceeded to walk in the garden, where the two old people got Rosaliebetween them, and overwhelmed her with politeness and complimentaryremarks. She, who was happy and in high spirits, answered in Italian, anddelighted them by her intelligence, and the grace which she gave to hermistakes in grammar. 

The servants came to tell us that dinner was ready, and what was myastonishment on entering the room to see the table laid for six. I didnot want much insight now to see through the marquis's trick, but it wastoo late. We sat down, and just then a young man came in. 

"You are a little late, " said the marquis; and then, without waiting forhis apology, he introduced him to me as M. Petri, his godson, and nephewto his other guests, and he made him sit down at his left hand, Rosaliebeing on his right. I sat opposite to her, and seeing that she turned aspale as death the blood rushed to my face; I was terribly enraged. Thissmall despot's plot seemed disgraceful to me; it was a scandalous insultto Rosalie and myself--an insult which should be washed away in blood. Iwas tempted to stab him at his table, but in spite of my agitation Iconstrained myself. What could I do? Take Rosalie's arm, and leave theroom with her? I thought it over, but foreseeing the consequences I couldnot summon up courage. 

I have never spent so terrible an hour as at that fatal dinner. NeitherRosalie nor myself ate a morsel, and the marquis who helped all theguests was discreet enough not to see that we left one course afteranother untouched. Throughout dinner he only spoke to Petri and hisuncle, giving them opportunities for saying how large a trade they did. At dessert the marquis told the young man that he had better go and lookafter his affairs, and after kissing his hand he withdrew with a bow towhich nobody replied. 

Petri was about twenty-four, of a moderate height, with ordinary but yetgood-natured and honest features; respectful in his manner, and sensiblethough not witty in what he said. After all was said and done, I thoughthim worthy of Rosalie, but I shuddered at the thought that if she becamehis wife she was lost to me forever. After he had gone, the marquis saidhe was sorry he had not known him before as he might be of use to him inhis business. 

"However, we will see to that in the future, " said he, meaningly, "I meanto make his fortune. "

At this the uncle and aunt, who no doubt knew what to say, began to laudand extol their nephew, and ended by saying that as they had no childrenthey were delighted that Petri, who would be their heir, was to have hisexcellency's patronage. 

"We are longing, " they added, "to see the girl from Marseilles he isgoing to marry. We should welcome her as a beloved daughter. "

Rosalie whispered to me that she could bear it no longer, and begged meto take her away. We rose, and after we had saluted the company with colddignity we left the room. The marquis was visibly disconcerted. As heescorted us to the door he stammered out compliments, for the want ofsomething to say, telling Rosalie that he should not have the honour ofseeing her that evening, but that he hoped to call on her the next day. 

When we were by ourselves we seemed to breathe again, and spoke to oneanother to relieve ourselves of the oppression which weighed on ourminds. 

Rosalie thought, as well as I, that the marquis had played us a shamefultrick, and she told me I ought to write him a note, begging him not togive himself the trouble of calling on us again. 

"I will find some means of vengeance, " said I; "but I don't think itwould be a good plan to write to him. We will hasten our preparations forleaving, and receive him to-morrow with that cold politeness which bearswitness to indignation. Above all, we will not make the slightestreference to his godson. "

"If Petri really loves me, " said she, "I pity him. I think he is a goodfellow, and I don't feel angry with him for being present at dinner, ashe may possibly be unaware that leis presence was likely to give meoffence. But I still shudder when I think of it: I thought I should havedied when our eyes met! Throughout dinner he could not see my eyes, as Ikept them nearly shut, and indeed he could hardly see me. Did he look atme while he was talking?"

"No, he only looked at me. I am as sorry for him as you are, for, as yousay, he looks an honest fellow. "

"Well, it's over now, and I hope I shall make a good supper. Did younotice what the aunt said? I am sure she was in the plot. She thought shewould gain me over by saying she was ready to treat me like her ownchild. She was a decent-looking woman, too. "

We made a good supper, and a pleasant night inclined us to forget theinsult the marquis had put upon us. When we woke up in the morning welaughed at it. The marquis came to see us in the evening, and greeting mewith an air of mingled confusion and vexation, he said that he knew hehad done wrong in surprising me as he had, but that he was ready to doanything in his power by way of atonement, and to give whateversatisfaction I liked. 

Rosalie did not give me time to answer. "If you really feel, " said she, "that you have insulted us, that is enough; we are amply avenged. But allthe same, sir, we shall be on our guard against you for the future, though that will be for a short while, as we are just leaving. "

With this proud reply she made him a low bow and left the room. 

When he was left alone with me M. Grimaldi addressed me as follows:

"I take a great interest in your mistress's welfare; and as I feel surethat she cannot long be happy in her present uncertain position, while Iam sure that she would make my godson an excellent wife, I was determinedthat both of you should make his acquaintance, for Rosalie herself knowsvery little of him. I confess that the means I employed weredishonourable, but you will pardon the means for the sake of theexcellent end I had in view. I hope you will have a pleasant journey, andthat you may live for a long time in uninterrupted happiness with yourcharming mistress. I hope you will write to me, and always reckon on mystanding your friend, and doing everything in my power for you. Before Igo, I will tell you something which will give you an idea of theexcellent disposition of young Petri, to whose happiness Rosalie seemsessential. 

"He only told me the following, after I had absolutely refused to takecharge of a letter he had written to Rosalie, despairing of being able tosend it any other way. After assuring me that Rosalie had loved him, andthat consequently she could not have any fixed aversion for him, he addedthat if the fear of being with child was the reason why she would notmarry him he would agree to put off the marriage till after the child wasborn, provided that she would agree to stay in Genoa in hiding, herpresence to be unknown to all save himself. He offers to pay all theexpenses of her stay. He made a remarkably wise reflection when we weretalking it over. 

"'If she gave birth to a child too soon after our marriage, ' said he, 'both her honour and mine would suffer hurt; she might also lose theliking of my relations, and if Rosalie is to be my wife I want her to behappy in everything. "'

At this Rosalie, who had no doubt been listening at the door after themanner of her sex, burst into the room, and astonished me by thefollowing speech:

"If M. Petri chid not tell you that it was possible that I might be withchild by him, he is a right honest man, but now I tell you so myself. Ido not think it likely, but still it is possible. Tell him, sir, that Iwill remain at Genoa until the child is born, in the case of my beingpregnant, of which I have no certain knowledge, or until I am quite surethat I am not with child. If I do have a child the truth will be madeknown. In the case of there being no doubt of M. Petri's being theparent, I am ready to marry him; but if he sees for himself that thechild is not his I hope he will be reasonable enough to let me alone forthe future. As to the expenses and my lodging at Genoa, tell him that heneed not trouble himself about either. "

I was petrified. I saw the consequence of my own imprudent words, and myheart seemed broken. The marquis asked me if this decision was given withmy authority, and I replied that as my sweetheart's will was mine hemight take her words for law. He went away in high glee, for he foresawthat all would go well with his plans when once he was able to exert hisinfluence on Rosalie. The absent always fare ill. 

"You want to leave me, then, Rosalie?" said I, when we were alone. 

"Yes, dearest, but it will not be for long. "

"I think we shall never see each other again. "

"Why not, dearest? You have only to remain faithful to me. Listen to me. Your honour and my own make it imperative that I should convince Petrithat I am not with child by him, and you that I am with child by you. "

"I never doubted it, dear Rosalie. "

"Yes, dear, you doubted it once and that is enough. Our parting will costme many a bitter tear, but these pangs are necessary to my futurehappiness. I hope you will write to me, and after the child is born itwill be for you to decide on how I shall rejoin you. If I am not pregnantI will rejoin you in a couple of months at latest. "

"Though I may grieve at your resolve I will not oppose it, for I promisedI would never cross you. I suppose you will go into a convent; and themarquis must find you a suitable one, and protect you like a father. Shall I speak to him on the subject? I will leave you as much money asyou will want. "

"That will not be much. As for M. De Grimaldi, he is bound in honour toprocure me an asylum. I don't think it will be necessary for you to speakto him about it. "

She was right, and I could not help admiring the truly astonishing tactof this girl. 

In the morning I heard that the self-styled Ivanoff had made his escapean hour before the police were to arrest him at the suit of the banker, who had found out that one of the bills he had presented was forged. Hehad escaped on foot, leaving all his baggage behind him. 

Next day the marquis came to tell Rosalie that his godson had noobjection to make to her plan. He added that the young man hoped shewould become his wife, whether the child proved to be his or not. 

"He may hope as much as he likes, " said Rosalie, with a smile. 

"He also hopes that you will allow him to call on you now and then. Ihave spoken to my kinswoman, the mother-superior of convent. You are tohave two rooms, and a very good sort of woman is to keep you company, wait on you, and nurse you when the time comes. I have paid the amountyou are to pay every month for your board. Every morning I will send youa confidential man, who will see your companion and will bring me yourorders. And I myself will come and see you at the grating as often as youplease. "

It was then my sad duty, which the laws of politeness enjoined, to thankthe marquis for his trouble. 

"'Tis to you, my lord, " said I, "I entrust Rosalie. I am placing her, Iam sure, in good hands. I will go on my way as soon as she is in theconvent; I hope you will write a letter to the mother-superior for her totake. "

"I will write it directly, " said he. 

And as Rosalie had told him before that she would pay for everythingherself, he gave her a written copy of the agreement he had made. 

"I have resolved, " said Rosalie to the marquis, "to go into the conventto-morrow, and I shall be very glad to have a short visit from you theday after. "

"I will be there, " said the marquis, "and you may be sure that I will doall in my power to make your stay agreeable. "

The night was a sad one for both of us. Love scarcely made a pause amidstour alternate complaints and consolations. We swore to be faithful forever, and our oaths were sincere, as ardent lovers' oaths always are. Butthey are as nought unless they are sealed by destiny, and that no mortalmind may know. 

Rosalie, whose eyes were red and wet with tears, spent most of themorning in packing up with Veronique, who cried too. I could not look ather, as I felt angry with myself for thinking how pretty she was. Rosaliewould only take two hundred sequins, telling me that if she wanted moreshe could easily let me know. 

She told Veronique to look after me well for the two or three days Ishould spend at Genoa, made me a mute curtsy, and went out with Costa toget a sedan-chair. Two hours after, a servant of the marquis's came tofetch her belongings, and I was thus left alone and full of grief tillthe marquis came and asked me to give him supper, advising that Veroniqueshould be asked in to keep us company. 

"That's a rare girl, " said he, "you really don't know her, and you oughtto know her better. "

Although I was rather surprised, I did not stop to consider what themotives of the crafty Genoese might be, and I went and asked Veronique tocome in. She replied politely that she would do so, adding that she knewhow great an honour I did her. 

I should have been the blindest of men if I had not seen that the clevermarquis had succeeded in his well-laid plans, and that he had duped me asif I had been the merest freshman. Although I hoped with all my heartthat I should get Rosalie back again, I had good reasons for suspectingthat all the marquis's wit would be employed to seduce her, and I couldnot help thinking that he would succeed. 

Nevertheless, in the position I was in, I could only keep my fears tomyself and let him do his utmost. 

He was nearly sixty, a thorough disciple of Epicurus, a heavy player, rich, eloquent, a master of state-craft, highly popular at Genoa, andwell acquainted with the hearts of men, and still more so with the heartsof women. He had spent a good deal of time at Venice to be more atliberty, and to enjoy the pleasures of life at his ease. He had nevermarried, and when asked the reason would reply that he knew too well thatwomen would be either tyrants or slaves, and that he did not want to be atyrant to any woman, nor to be under any woman's orders. He found someway of returning to his beloved Venice, in spite of the law forbiddingany noble who has filled the office of doge to leave his native soil. Though he behaved to me in a very friendly manner he knew how to maintainan air of superiority which imposed on me. Nothing else could have givenhim the courage to ask me to dinner when Petri was to be present. I feltthat I had been tricked, and I thought myself in duty bound to make himesteem me by my behaviour for the future. It was gratitude on his partwhich made him smooth the way to my conquest of Veronique, who doubtlessstruck him as a fit and proper person to console me for the loss ofRosalie. 

I did not take any part in the conversation at supper, but the marquisdrew out Veronique, and she shone. It was easy for me to see that she hadmore wit and knowledge of the world than Rosalie, but in my then state ofmind this grieved rather than rejoiced me. M. De Grimaldi seemed sorry tosee me melancholy, and forced me, as it were, to join in theconversation. As he was reproaching me in a friendly manner for mysilence, Veronique said with a pleasing smile that I had a good reason tobe silent after the declaration of love I had made to her, and which shehad received so ill. I was astonished at this, and said that I did notremember having ever made her such a declaration; but she made me laughin spite of myself, when she said that her name that day was Lindane. 

"Ah, that's in a play, " said I, "in real life the man who declares hislove in words is a simpleton; 'tis with deeds the true lover shews hislove. "

"Very true, but your lady was frightened all the same. "

"No, no, Veronique; she is very fond of you. "

"I know she is; but I have seen her jealous of me. "

"If so, she was quite wrong. "

This dialogue, which pleased me little, fell sweetly on the marquis'sears; he told me that he was going to call on Rosalie next morning, andthat if I liked to give him a supper, he would come and tell me about herin the evening. Of course I told him that he would be welcome. 

After Veronique had lighted me to my room, she asked me to let myservants wait on me, as if she did so now that my lady was gone, peoplemight talk about her. 

"You are right, " said I, "kindly send Le Duc to me. "

Next morning I had a letter from Geneva. It came from my Epicureansyndic, who had presented M. De Voltaire with my translation of his play, with an exceedingly polite letter from me, in which I begged his pardonfor having taken the liberty of travestying his fine French prose inItalian. The syndic told me plainly that M. De Voltaire had pronounced mytranslation to be a bad one. 

My self-esteem was so wounded by this, and by his impoliteness in notanswering my letter, with which he could certainly find no fault, whatever his criticism of my translation might be, that I became thesworn enemy of the great Voltaire. I have censured him in all the works Ihave published, thinking that in wronging him I was avenging myself, tosuch an extent did passion blind me. At the present time I feel that evenif my works survive, these feeble stings of mine can hurt nobody butmyself. Posterity will class me amongst the Zoiluses whose own impotencemade them attack this great man to whom civilization and human happinessowe so much. The only crime that can truthfully be alleged againstVoltaire is his attacks on religion. If he had been a true philosopher hewould never have spoken on such matters, for, even if his attacks werebased on truth, religion is necessary to morality, without which therecan be no happiness. 

CHAPTER V

I Fall in Love With Veronique--Her Sister--Plot Against Plot--MyVictory--Mutual Disappointment

I have never liked eating by myself, and thus I have never turned hermit, though I once thought of turning monk; but a monk without renouncing allthe pleasures of life lives well in a kind of holy idleness. This disliketo loneliness made me give orders that the table should be laid for two, and indeed, after supping with the marquis and myself, Veronique had someright to expect as much, to say nothing of those rights which her wit andbeauty gave her. 

I only saw Costa, and asked him what had become of Le Duc. He said he wasill. "Then go behind the lady's chair, " said I. He obeyed, but smiled ashe did so. Pride is a universal failing, and though a servant's pride isthe silliest of all it is often pushed to the greatest extremes. 

I thought Veronique prettier than before. Her behaviour, now free and nowreserved, as the occasion demanded, shewed me that she was no new hand, and that she could have played the part of a princess in the bestsociety. Nevertheless (so strange a thing is the heart of man), I wassorry to find I liked her, and my only consolation was that her motherwould come and take her away before the day was over. I had adoredRosalie, and my heart still bled at the thought of our parting. 

The girl's mother came while we were still at table. She was astounded atthe honour I shewed her daughter, and she overwhelmed me with thanks. 

"You owe me no gratitude, " said I to her; "your daughter is clever, good, and beautiful. "

"Thank the gentleman for his compliment, " said the mother, "for you arereally stupid, wanton, and ugly;" and then she added, "But how could youhave the face to sit at table with the gentleman in a dirty chemise?"

"I should blush, mother, if I thought you were right; but I put a cleanone on only two hours ago. "

"Madam, " said I to the mother, "the chemise cannot look white beside yourdaughter's whiter skin. "

This made the mother laugh, and pleased the girl immensely. When themother told her that she was come to take her back, Veronique said, witha sly smile, --

"Perhaps the gentleman won't be pleased at my leaving him twenty-fourhours before he goes away. "

"On the contrary, " said I, "I should be very vexed. "

"Well; then, she can stay, sir, " said the mother; "but for decency's sakeI must send her younger sister to sleep with her. "

"If you please, " I rejoined. And with that I left them. 

The thought of Veronique troubled me, as I knew I was taken with her, andwhat I had to dread was a calculated resistance. 

The mother came into my room where I was writing, and wished me apleasant journey, telling me for the second time that she was going tosend her daughter Annette. The girl came in the evening, accompanied by aservant, and after lowering her mezzaro, and kissing my handrespectfully, she ran gaily to kiss her sister. 

I wanted to see what she was like, and called for candles; and on theirbeing brought I found she was a blonde of a kind I had never before seen. Her hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes were the colour of pale gold, faireralmost than her skin, which was extremely delicate. She was veryshort-sighted, but her large pale blue eyes were wonderfully beautiful. She had the smallest mouth imaginable, but her teeth, though regular, were not so white as her skin. But for this defect Annette might havepassed for a perfect beauty. 

Her shortness of sight made too brilliant a light painful to her, but asshe stood before me she seemed to like me looking at her. My gaze fedhungrily on the two little half-spheres, which were not yet ripe, but sowhite as to make me guess how ravishing the rest of her body must be. Veronique did not shew her breasts so freely. One could see that she wassuperbly shaped, but everything was carefully hidden from the gaze. Shemade her sister sit down beside her and work, but when I saw that she wasobliged to hold the stuff close to her face I told her that she shouldspare her eyes, for that night at all events, and with that sheobediently put the work down. 

The marquis came as usual, and like myself he thought Annette, whom hehad never seen before, an astonishing miniature beauty. Taking advantageof his age and high rank, the voluptuous old man dared to pass his handover her breast, and she, who was too respectful to cross my lord, lethim do it without making the slightest objection. She was a compound ofinnocence and coquetry. 

The woman who shewing little succeeds in making a man want to see more, has accomplished three-fourths of the task of making him fall in lovewith her; for is love anything else than a kind of curiosity? I thinknot; and what makes me certain is that when the curiosity is satisfiedthe love disappears. Love, however, is the strongest kind of curiosity inexistence, and I was already curious about Annette. 

M. Grimaldi told Veronique that Rosalie wished her to stay with me till Ileft Genoa, and she was as much astonished at this as I was. 

"Be kind enough to tell her, " said I to the marquis, "that Veronique hasanticipated her wishes and has got her sister Annette to stay with her. "

"Two are always better than one, my dear fellow, " replied the craftyGenoese. 

After these remarks we left the two sisters together and went into myroom, where he said, --

"Your Rosalie is contented, and you ought to congratulate yourself onhaving made her happy, as I am sure she will be. The only thing thatvexes me is that you can't go and see her yourself with any decency. "

"You are in love with her, my lord. "

"I confess that I am, but I am an old man, and it vexes me. "

"That's no matter, she will love you tenderly; and if Petri ever becomesher husband, I am sure she will never be anything more than a good friendto him. Write to me at Florence and tell me how she receives him. "

"Stay here for another three days; the two beauties there will make thetime seem short. "

"It's exactly for that reason that I want to go tomorrow. I am afraid ofVeronique. "

"I shouldn't have thought that you would have allowed any woman tofrighten you. "

"I am afraid she has cast her fatal nets around me, and when the timecomes she will be strictly moral. Rosalie is my only love. "

"Well, here's a letter from her. "

I went apart to read the letter, the sight of which made my heart beatviolently; it ran as follows:

 "Dearest, --I see you have placed me in the hands of one who will care for me like a father. This is a new kindness which I owe to the goodness of your heart. I will write to you at whatever address you send me. If you like Veronique, my darling, do not fear any jealousy from me; I should be wrong to entertain such a feeling in my present position. I expect that if you make much of her she will not be able to resist, and I shall be glad to hear that she is lessening your sadness. I hope you will write me a few lines before you go. "

I went up to the marquis and told him to read it. He seemed greatlymoved. 

"Yes, " said he, "the dear girl will find in me her friend and father, andif she marries my godson and he does not treat her as he ought, he willnot possess her long. I shall remember her in my will, and thus when I amdead my care will still continue. But what do you think of her advice asto Veronique? I don't expect she is exactly a vestal virgin, though Ihave never heard anything against her. "

I had ordered that the table should be laid for four, so Annette sat downwithout our having to ask her. Le Duc appeared on the scene, and I toldhim that if he were ill he might go to bed. 

"I am quite well, " said he. 

"I am glad to hear it; but don't trouble now, you shall wait on me when Iam at Leghorn. "

I saw that Veronique was delighted at my sending him away, and I resolvedthen and there to lay siege to her heart. I began by talking to her in avery meaning manner all supper-time, while the marquis entertainedAnnette. I asked him if he thought I could get a felucca next day to takeme to Lerici. 

"Yes, " said he, "whenever you like and with as many oarsmen as youplease; but I hope you will put off your departure for two or threedays. "

"No, " I replied, ogling Veronique, "the delay might cost me too dear. "

The sly puss answered with a smile that shewed she understood my meaning. 

When we rose from the table I amused myself with Annette, and the marquiswith Veronique. After a quarter of an hour he came and said to me, --

"Certain persons have asked me to beg you to stay a few days longer, orat least to sup here to-morrow night. "

"Very good. We will talk of the few days more at supper to-morrow. "

"Victory!" said the marquis; and Veronique seemed very grateful to me forgranting her request. When our guest was gone, I asked my new housekeeperif I might send Costa to bed. 

"As my sister is with me, there can be no ground for any suspicion. "

"I am delighted that you consent; now I am going to talk to you. "

She proceeded to do my hair, but she gave no answer to my soft speeches. When I was on the point of getting into bed she wished me good night, andI tried to kiss her by way of return. She repulsed me and ran to thedoor, much to my surprise. She was going to leave the room, when Iaddressed her in a voice of grave politeness. 

"I beg you will stay; I want to speak to you; come and sit by me. Whyshould you refuse me a pleasure which after all is a mere mark offriendship?"

"Because, things being as they are, we could not remain friends, neithercould we be lovers. "

"Lovers! why not, we are perfectly free. "

"I am not free; I am bound by certain prejudices which do not troubleyou. "

"I should have thought you were superior to prejudices. "

"There are some prejudices which a woman ought to respect. Thesuperiority you mention is a pitiful thing; always the dupe of itself. What would become of me, I should like to know, if I abandoned myself tothe feelings I have for you?"

"I was waiting for you to say that, dear Veronique. What you feel for meis not love. If it were so, you would feel as I do, and you would soonbreak the bonds of prejudice. "

"I confess that my head is not quite turned yet, but still I feel that Ishall grieve at your departure. "

"If so, that is no fault of mine. But tell me what I can do for youduring my short stay here. "

"Nothing; we do not know one another well enough. "

"I understand you, but I would have you know that I do not intend tomarry any woman who is not my friend. "

"You mean you will not marry her till you have ceased to be her lover?"

"Exactly. "

"You would like to finish where I would begin. "

"You may be happy some day, but you play for high stakes. "

"Well, well, it's a case of win all or lose all. "

"That's as may be. But without further argument it seems to me that wecould safely enjoy our love, and pass many happy moments undisturbed byprejudice. "

"Possibly, but one gets burnt fingers at that game, and I shudder at thevery thought of it. No, no; leave me alone, there is my sister who willwonder why I am in your arms. "

"Very good; I see I was mistaken, and Rosalie too. "

"Why what did she think about me?"

"She wrote and told me that she thought you would be kind. "

"I hope she' mayn't have to repent for having been too kind herself. "

"Good bye, Veronique. "

I felt vexed at having made the trial, for in these matters one alwaysfeels angry at failure. I decided I would leave her and her precepts, true or false, alone; but when I awoke in the morning and saw her comingto my bed with a pleasant smile on her face, I suddenly changed my mind. I had slept upon my anger and I was in love again. I thought she hadrepented, and that I should be victorious when I attacked her again. Iput on a smile myself and breakfasted gaily with her and her sister. Ibehaved in the same way at dinner; and the general high spirits which M. De Grimaldi found prevailing in the evening, made him think, doubtless, that we were getting on well, and he congratulated us. Veronique behavedexactly as if the marquis had guessed the truth, and I felt sure ofhaving her after supper, and in the ecstasy of the thought I promised tostay for four days longer. 

"Bravo, Veronique!" said the marquis, "that's the way. You are intendedby nature to rule your lovers with an absolute sway. "

I thought she would say something to diminish the marquis's certaintythat there was an agreement between us, but she did nothing of the sort, seeming to enjoy her triumph which made her appear more beautiful thanever; whilst I looked at her with the submissive gaze of a captive whoglories in, his chain. I took her behaviour as an omen of my approachingconquest, and did not speak to M. De Grimaldi alone lest he might ask mequestions which I should not care to answer. He told us before he wentaway that he was engaged on the morrow, and so could not come to see ustill the day after. 

As soon as we were alone Veronique said to me, "You see how I let peoplebelieve what they please; I had rather be thought kind, as you call it, than ridiculous, as an honest girl is termed now-a-days. Is it not so?"

"No, dear Veronique, I will never call you ridiculous, but I shall thinkyou hate me if you make me pass another night in torture. You haveinflamed me. "

"Oh, pray be quiet! For pity's sake leave me alone! I will not inflameyou any more. Oh! Oh!"

I had enraged her by thrusting a daring hand into the very door of thesanctuary. She repulsed me and fled. Three or four minutes later hersister came to undress me. I told her gently to go to bed as I had towrite for three or four hours; but not caring that she should come on abootless errand I opened a box and gave her a watch. She took itmodestly, saying, --

"This is for my sister, I suppose?"

"No, dear Annette, it's for you. "

She gave a skip of delight, and I could not prevent her kissing my hand. 

I proceeded to write Rosalie a letter of four pages. I felt worried anddispleased with myself and everyone else. I tore up my letter withoutreading it over, and making an effort to calm myself I wrote her anotherletter more subdued than the first, in which I said nothing of Veronique, but informed my fair recluse that I was going on the day following. 

I did not go to bed till very late, feeling out of temper with the world. I considered that I had failed in my duty to Veronique, whether she lovedme or not, for I loved her and I was a man of honour. I had a bad night, and when I awoke it was noon, and on ringing Costa and Annette appeared. The absence of Veronique shewed how I had offended her. When Costa hadleft the room I asked Annette after her sister, and she said that she wasworking. I wrote her a note, in which I begged her pardon, promising thatI would never offend her again, and begging her to forget everything andto be just the same as before. I was taking my coffee when she came intomy room with an expression of mortification which grieved me excessively. 

"Forget everything, I beg, and I will trouble you no more. Give me mybuckles, as I am going for a country walk, and I shall not be in tillsuppertime. I shall doubtless get an excellent appetite, and as you havenothing more to fear you need not trouble to send me Annette again. "

I dressed myself in haste, and left the town by the first road that camein my way, and I walked fast for two hours with the intention of tiringmyself, and of thus readjusting the balance between mind and body. I havealways found that severe exercise and fresh air are the best cure for anymental perturbation. 

I had walked for more than three leagues when hunger and weariness mademe stop at a village inn, where I had an omelette cooked. I ate ithungrily with brown bread and wine, which seemed to me delicious thoughit was rather sharp. 

I felt too tired to walk back to Genoa, so I asked for a carriage; butthere was no such thing to be had. The inn-keeper provided me with asorry nag and a man to guide me. Darkness was coming on, and we had morethan six miles to do. Fine rain began to fall when I started, andcontinued all the way, so that I got home by eight o'clock wet to theskin, shivering with cold, dead tired, and in a sore plight from therough saddle, against which my satin breeches were no protection. Costahelped me to change my clothes, and as he went out Annette came in. 

"Where is your sister?"

"She is in bed with a bad headache. She gave me a letter for you; here itis. "

"I have been obliged to go to bed on account of a severe headache towhich I am subject. I feel better already, and I shall be able to wait onyou to-morrow. I tell you as much, because I do not wish you to thinkthat my illness is feigned. I am sure that your repentance for havinghumiliated me is sincere, and I hope in your turn that you will forgiveme or pity me, if my way of thinking prevents me from conforming toyours. "

"Annette dear, go and ask your sister if she would like us to sup in herroom. "

She soon came back telling me that Veronique was obliged, but begged meto let her sleep. 

I supped with Annette, and was glad to see that, though she only drankwater, her appetite was better than mine. My passion for her sisterprevented me thinking of her, but I felt that Annette would otherwisehave taken my fancy. When we were taking dessert, I conceived the idea ofmaking her drunk to get her talk of her sister, so I gave her a glass ofLunel muscat. 

"I only drink water, sir. "

"Don't you like wine?"

"Yes, but as I am not used to it I am afraid of its getting into myhead. "

"Then you can go to bed; you will sleep all the better. "

She drank the first glass, which she enjoyed immensely, then a second, and then a third. Her little brains were in some confusion when she hadfinished the third glass. I made her talk about her sister, and inperfect faith she told me all the good imaginable. 

"Then you are very fond of Veronique?" said I. 

"Oh, yes! I love her with all my heart, but she will not let me caressher. "

"No doubt she is afraid of your ceasing to love her. But do you think sheought to make me suffer so?"

"No, but if you love her you ought to forgive her. "

Annette was still quite reasonable. I made her drink a fourth glass ofmuscat, but an instant after she told me that she could not see anything, and we rose from the table. Annette began to please me a little too much, but I determined not to make any attempts upon her for fear of findingher too submissive. A little resistance sharpens the appetite, whilefavours granted with too much ease lose a great deal of their charm. Annette was only fourteen, she had a soft heart, no knowledge of theworld or her own rights, and she would not have resisted my embraces forfear of being rude. That sort of thing would only please a rich andvoluptuous Turk. 

I begged her to do my hair, intending to dismiss her directly after, butwhen she had finished I asked her to give me the ointment. 

"What do you want it for?"

"For the blisters that cursed saddle on which I rode six miles gave me. "

"Does the ointment do them good?"

"Certainly; it takes away the smart, and by to-morrow I shall be cured, but you must send Costa to me, as I cannot put it on myself. "

"Can't I do it?"

"Yes, but I am afraid that would be an abuse of your kindness. "

"I guess why; but as I am short-sighted, how shall I see the blisters?"

"If you want to do it for me, I will place myself so that it will beeasier for you. Stay, put the candle on this table. "

"There you are, but don't let Costa put it on again to-morrow, or he willguess that I or my sister did it to-night. "

"You will do me the same service, then, to-morrow?"

"I or my sister, for she will get up early. "

"Your sister! No, my dear; she would be afraid of giving me too muchpleasure by touching me so near. "

"And I am only afraid of hurting you. Is that right? Good heavens! what astate your skin is in!"

"You have not finished yet. "

"I am so short-sighted; turn round. "

"With pleasure. Here I am. "

The little wanton could not resist laughing at what she saw, doubtless, for the first time. She was obliged to touch it to continue rubbing theointment in, and I saw that she liked it, as she touched it when she hadno need, and not being able to stand it any longer I took hold of herhand and made her stop her work in favour of a pleasanter employment. 

When she had finished I burst out laughing to hear her ask, in the mostserious way, the pot of ointment still in her left hand, "Did I do it right!"

"Oh, admirably, dear Annette! You are an angel, and I am sure you knowwhat pleasure you gave me. Can you come and spend an hour with me?"

"Wait a bit. "

She went out and shut the door, and I waited for her to return; but mypatience being exhausted I opened the door slightly, and saw herundressing and getting into bed with her sister. I went back to my roomand to bed again, without losing all hope. I was not disappointed, for infive minutes back she came, clad in her chemise and walking on tip-toe. 

"Come to my arms, my love; it is very cold. "

"Here I am. My sister is asleep and suspects nothing; and even if sheawoke the bed is so large that she would not notice my absence. "

"You are a divine creature, and I love you with all my heart. "

"So much the better. I give myself up to you; do what you like with me, on the condition that you think of my sister no more. "

"That will not cost me much. I promise that I will not think of her. "

I found Annette a perfect neophyte, and though I saw no blood on thealtar of love next morning I did not suspect her on that account. I haveoften seen such cases, and I know by experience that the effusion ofblood or its absence proves nothing. As a general rule a girl cannot beconvicted of having had a lover unless she be with child. 

I spent two hours of delight with this pretty baby, for she was so small, so delicate, and so daintily shaped all over, that I can find no bettername for her. Her docility did not detract from the piquancy of thepleasure, for she was voluptuously inclined. 

When I rose in the morning she came to my room with Veronique, and I wasglad to see that while the younger sister was radiant with happiness theelder looked pleasant and as if she desired to make herself agreeable. Iasked her how she was, and she told me that diet and sleep had completelycured her. "I have always found them the best remedy for a headache. "Annette had also cured me of the curiosity I had felt about her. Icongratulated myself on my achievement. 

I was in such high spirits at supper that M. De Grimaldi thought I hadwon everything from Veronique, and I let him think so. I promised to dinewith him the next day, and I kept my word. After dinner I gave him a longletter for Rosalie, whom I did not expect to see again except as MadamePetri, though I took care not to let the marquis know what I thought. 

In the evening I supped with the two sisters, and I made myself equallyagreeable to both of them. When Veronique was alone with me, putting myhair into curl-papers, she said that she loved me much more now that Ibehaved discreetly. 

"My discretion, " I replied, "only means that I have given up the hope ofwinning you. I know how to take my part. "

"Your love was not very great, then?"

"It sprang up quickly, and you, Veronique, could have made it increase toa gigantic size. "

She said nothing, but bit her lip, wished me good night and left theroom. I went to bed expecting a visit from Annette, but I waited in vain. When I rang the next morning the dear girl appeared looking rather sad. Iasked her the reason. 

"Because my sister is ill, and spent the whole night in writing, " saidshe. 

Thus I learnt the reason of her not having paid me a visit. 

"Do you know what she was writing about?"

"Oh, no! She does not tell me that kind of thing, but here is a letterfor you. "

I read through the long and well-composed letter, but as it bore marks ofcraft and dissimulation it made me laugh. After several remarks of noconsequence she said that she had repulsed me because she loved me somuch and that she was afraid that if she satisfied my fancy she mightlose me. 

"I will be wholly yours, " she added, "if you will give me the positionwhich Rosalie enjoyed. I will travel in your company, but you must giveme a document, which M. De Grimaldi will sign as a witness, in which youmust engage to marry me in a year, and to give me a portion of fiftythousand francs; and if at the end of a year you do not wish to marry me, that sum to be at my absolute disposal. "

She stipulated also that if she became a mother in the course of a yearthe child should be hers in the event of our separating. On theseconditions she would become my mistress, and would have for me allpossible love and kindness. 

This proposal, cleverly conceived, but foolishly communicated to me, shewed me that Veronique had not the talent of duping others. I sawdirectly that M. De Grimaldi had nothing to do with it, and I felt surethat he would laugh when I told him the story. 

Annette soon came back with the chocolate, and told me that her sisterhoped I would answer her letter. 

"Yes, dear, " said I, "I will answer her when I get up. "

I took my chocolate, put on my dressing-gown, and went to Veronique'sroom. I found her sitting up in bed in a negligent attire that might haveattracted me if her letter had not deprived her of my good opinion. I saton the bed, gave her back the letter, and said, --

"Why write, when we can talk the matter over?"

"Because one is often more at ease in writing than in speaking. "

"In diplomacy and business that will pass, but not in love. Love makes noconditions. Let us have no documents, no safeguards, but give yourself upto me as Rosalie did, and begin to-night without my promising anything. If you trust in love, you will make him your prisoner. That way willhonour us and our pleasures, and if you like I will consult M. DeGrimaldi on the subject. As to your plan, if it does not injure yourhonour, it does small justice to your common sense, and no one but a foolwould agree to it. You could not possibly love the man to whom you makesuch a proposal, and as to M. De Grimaldi, far from having anything to dowith it, I am sure he would be indignant at the very idea. "

This discourse did not put Veronique out of countenance. She said she didnot love me well enough to give herself to me unconditionally; to which Ireplied that I was not sufficiently taken with her charms to buy them atthe price she fixed, and so I left her. 

I called Costa, and told him to go and warn the master of the feluccathat I was going the next day, and with this idea I went to bid good-byeto the marquis, who informed me that he had just been taking Petri to seeRosalie, who had received him well enough. I told him I was glad to hearit, and said that I commended to him the care of her happiness, but suchcommendations were thrown away. 

It is one of the most curious circumstances of my history, that in oneyear two women whom I sincerely loved and whom I might have married weretaken from me by two old men, whose affections I had fostered withoutwishing to do so. Happily these gentlemen made my mistresses' fortunes, but on the other hand they did me a still greater service in relieving meof a tie which I should have found very troublesome in course of time. Nodoubt they both saw that my fortune, though great in outward show, restedon no solid basis, which, as the reader will see, was unhappily too true. I should be happy if I thought that my errors or rather follies wouldserve as a warning to the readers of these Memoirs. 

I spent the day in watching the care with which Veronique and Annettepacked up my trunks, for I would not let my two servants help in any way. Veronique was neither sad nor gay. She looked as if she had made up hermind, and as if there had never been any differences between us. I wasvery glad, for as I no longer cared for her I should have been annoyed tofind that she still cared for me. 

We supped in our usual manner, discussing only commonplace topics, butjust as I was going to bed Annette shook my hand in a way that told me toprepare for a visit from her. I admired the natural acuteness of younggirls, who take their degrees in the art of love with so much ease and atsuch an early age. Annette, almost a child, knew more than a young man oftwenty. I decided on giving her fifty sequins without letting Veroniquesee me, as I did not intend to be so liberal towards her. I took a rollof ducats and gave them to her as soon as she came. 

She lay down beside me, and after a moment devoted to love she said thatVeronique was asleep, adding, --

"I heard all you said to my sister, and I am sure you love her. "

"If I did, dear Annette, I should not have made my proposal in such plainterms. "

"I should like to believe that, but what would you have done if she hadaccepted your offer? You would be in one bed by this, I suppose?"

"I was more than certain, dearest, that her pride would hinder herreceiving me. "

We had reached this point in our conversation when we were surprised bythe sudden appearance of Veronique with a lighted candle, and wearingonly her chemise. She laughed at her sister to encourage her, and Ijoined in the laughter, keeping a firm hold on the little one for fear ofher escaping. Veronique looked ravishing in her scanty attire, and as shelaughed I could not be angry with her. However, I said, --

"You have interrupted our enjoyment, and hurt your sister's feelings;perhaps you will despise her for the future?"

"On the contrary, I shall always love her. "

"Her feelings overcame her, and she surrendered to me without making anyterms. "

"She has more sense than I. "

"Do you mean that?"

"I do, really. "

"I am astonished and delighted to hear it; but as it is so, kiss yoursister. "

At this invitation Veronique put down the candle, and covered Annette'sbeautiful body with kisses. The scene made me feel very happy. 

"Come, Veronique, " said I, "you will die of cold; come and lie down. "

I made room for her, and soon there were three of us under the samesheet. I was in an ecstasy at this group, worthy of Aretin's pencil. 

"Dearest ones, " said I, "you have played me a pretty trick; was itpremeditated? And was Veronique false this morning, or is she false now?"

"We did not premeditate anything, I was true this morning, and I am truenow. I feel that I and my plan were very silly, and I hope you willforgive me, since I have repented and have had my punishment. Now I thinkI am in my right senses, as I have yielded to the feelings with which youinspired me when I saw you first, and against which I have fought toolong. "

"What you say pleases me extremely. "

"Well, forgive me and finish my punishment by shewing that you are notangry with me. "

"How am I to do that?"

"By telling me that you are vexed no longer, and by continuing to give mysister proofs of your love. "

"I swear to you that so far from being angry with you I am very fond ofyou; but would you like us to be fond in your presence?"

"Yes, if you don't mind me. "

Feeling excited by voluptuous emotions, I saw that my part could nolonger be a passive one. 

"What do you say, " said I to my blonde, "will you allow your heroicsister to remain a mere looker-on at our sweet struggles? Are you notgenerous enough to let me make her an actress in the drama?"

"No; I confess I do not feel as if I could be so generous to-night, butnext night, if you will play the same part, we will change. Veroniqueshall act and I will look on. "

"That would do beautifully, " said Veronique, with some vexation in hermanner, "if the gentleman was not going to-morrow morning. "

"I will stay, dear Veronique, if only to prove how much I love you. "

I could not have wished for plainer speech on her part, and I should haveliked to shew her how grateful I felt on the spot; but that would havebeen at Annette's expense, as I had no right to make any alteration inthe piece of which she was the author and had a right to expect all theprofits. Whenever I recall this pleasant scene I feel my heart beat withvoluptuous pleasure, and even now, with the hand of old age upon me, Ican not recall it without delight. 

Veronique resigned herself to the passive part which her younger sisterimposed on her, and turning aside she leant her head on her hand, disclosing a breast which would have excited the coldest of men, and bademe begin my attack on Annette. It was no hard task she laid upon me, forI was all on fire, and I was certain of pleasing her as long as shelooked at me. As Annette was short-sighted, she could not distinguish inthe heat of the action which way I was looking, and I succeeded ingetting my right hand free, without her noticing me, and I was thusenabled to communicate a pleasure as real though not as acute as thatenjoyed by her sister. When the coverlet was disarranged, Veronique tookthe trouble to replace it, and thus offered me, as if by accident, a newspectacle. She saw how I enjoyed the sight of her charms, and her eyebrightened. At last, full of unsatisfied desire, she shewed me all thetreasures which nature had given her, just as I had finished with Annettefor the fourth time. She might well think that I was only rehearsing forthe following night, and her fancy must have painted her coming joys inthe brightest colours. Such at all events were my thoughts, but the fatesdetermined otherwise. I was in the middle of the seventh act, alwaysslower and more pleasant for the actress than the first two or three, when Costa came knocking loudly at my door, calling out that the feluccawas ready. I was vexed at this untoward incident, got up in a rage, andafter telling him to pay the master for the day, as I was not going tillthe morrow, I went back to bed, no longer, however, in a state tocontinue the work I begun. My two sweethearts were delighted with me, butwe all wanted rest, though the piece should not have finished with aninterruption. I wanted to get some amusement out of the interval, andproposed an ablution, which made Annette laugh and which Veroniquepronounced to be absolutely necessary. I found it a delicious horsd'oeuvre to the banquet I had enjoyed. The two sisters rendered eachother various services, standing in the most lascivious postures, and Ifound my situation as looker-on an enviable one. 

When the washing and the laughter it gave rise to were over, we returnedto the stage where the last act should have been performed. I longed tobegin again, and I am sure I should have succeeded if I had been wellbacked up by my partner; but Annette, who was young and tired out withthe toils of the night, forgot her part, and yielded to sleep as she hadyielded to love. Veronique began to laugh when she saw her asleep, and Ihad to do the same, when I saw that she was as still as a corpse. 

"What a pity!" said Veronique's eyes; but she said it with her eyesalone, while I was waiting for these words to issue from her lips. Wewere both of us wrong: she for not speaking, and I for waiting for her tospeak. It was a favourable moment, but we let it pass by, and lovepunished us. I had, it is true, another reason for abstaining. I wishedto reserve myself for the night. Veronique went to her own bed to quiether excited feelings, and I stayed in bed with my sleeping beauty tillnoon, when I wished her good morning by a fresh assault which wascompleted neither on her side nor on mine to the best of my belief. 

The day was spent in talking about ourselves, and determined to eat onlyone meal, we did not sit down to table till night began to fall. We spenttwo hours in the consumption of delicate dishes, and in defying Bacchusto make us feel his power. We rose as we saw Annette falling asleep, butwe were not much annoyed at the thought that she would not see thepleasures we promised each other. I thought that I should have enough todo to contemplate the charms of the one nymph without looking atAnnette's beauties. We went to bed, our arms interlaced, our bodies tighttogether, and lip pressed on lip, but that was all. Veronique saw whatprevented me going any further, and she was too polite and modest tocomplain. She dissembled her feelings and continued to caress me, while Iwas in a frenzy of rage. I had never had such a misfortune, unless as theresult of complete exhaustion, or from a strong mental impression capableof destroying my natural faculties. Let my readers imagine what Isuffered; in the flower of my age, with a strong constitution, holdingthe body of a woman I had ardently desired in my arms, while she tenderlycaressed me, and yet I could do nothing for her. I was in despair; onecannot offer a greater insult to a woman. 

At last we had to accept the facts and speak reasonably, and I was thefirst to bewail my misfortune. 

"You tired yourself too much yesterday, " said she, "and you were notsufficiently temperate at supper. Do not let it trouble you, dearest, Iam sure you love me. Do not try to force nature, you will only weakenyourself more. I think a gentle sleep would restore your manly powersbetter than anything. I can't sleep myself, but don't mind me. Sleep, wewill make love together afterwards. "

After those excellent and reasonable suggestions, Veronique turned herback to me and I followed her example, but in vain did I endeavour toobtain a refreshing slumber; nature which would not give me the power ofmaking her, the loveliest creature, happy, envied me the power of reposeas well. My amorous ardour and my rage forbade all thoughts of rest, andmy excited passions conspired against that which would enable them tosatisfy their desires. Nature punished me for having distrusted her, andbecause I had taken stimulants fit only for the weak. If I had fasted, Ishould have done great things, but now there was a conflict between thestimulants and nature, and by my desire for enjoyment I had deprivedmyself of the power to enjoy. Thus nature, wise like its Divine Author, punishes the ignorance and presumption of poor weak mortals. 

Throughout this terrible and sleepless night my mind roamed abroad, andamidst the reproaches with which I overwhelmed myself I found a certainsatisfaction in the thought that they were not wholly undeserved. This isthe sole enjoyment I still have when I meditate on my past life and itsvaried adventures. I feel that no misfortune has befallen me save by myown fault, whilst I attribute to natural causes the blessings, of which Ihave enjoyed many. I think I should go mad if in my soliloquies I cameacross any misfortune which I could not trace to my own fault, for Ishould not know where to place the reason, and that would degrade me tothe rank of creatures governed by instinct alone. I feel that I amsomewhat more than a beast. A beast, in truth, is a foolish neighbour ofmine, who tries to argue that the brutes reason better than we do. 

"I will grant, " I said, "that they reason better than you, but I can gono farther; and I think every reasonable man would say as much. "

This reply has made me an enemy, although he admits the first part of thethesis. 

Happier than I, Veronique slept for three hours; but she was disagreeablysurprised on my telling her that I had not been able to close an eye, andon finding me in the same state of impotence as before. She began to getangry when I tried to convince her rather too forcibly that my misfortunewas not due to my want of will, and then she blamed herself as the causeof my impotence; and mortified by the idea, she endeavoured to destroythe spell by all the means which passion suggested, and which I hadhitherto thought infallible; but her efforts and mine were all thrownaway. My despair was as great as hers when at last, wearied, ashamed, anddegraded in her own eyes, she discontinued her efforts, her eyes full oftears. She went away without a word, and left me alone for the two orthree hours which had still to elapse before the dawn appeared. 

At day-break Costa came and told me that the sea being rough and acontrary wind blowing, the felucca would be in danger of perishing. 

"We will go as soon as the weather improves, " said I; "in the mean timelight me a fire. "

I arose, and proceeded to write down the sad history of the night. Thisoccupation soothed me, and feeling inclined to sleep I lay down again andslept for eight hours. When I awoke I felt better, but still rather sad. The two sisters were delighted to see me in good health, but I thought Isaw on Veronique's features an unpleasant expression of contempt. However, I had deserved it, and I did not take the trouble of changingher opinion, though if she had been more caressing she might easily haveput me in a state to repair the involuntary wrongs I had done her in thenight. Before we sat down to table I gave her a present of a hundredsequins, which made her look a little more cheerful. I gave an equalpresent to my dear Annette, who had not expected anything, thinkingherself amply recompensed by my first gift and by the pleasure I hadafforded her. 

At midnight the master of the felucca came to tell me that the wind hadchanged, and I took leave of the sisters. Veronique shed tears, but Iknew to what to attribute them. Annette kissed me affectionately; thuseach played her own part. I sailed for Lerici, where I arrived the nextday, and then posted to Leghorn. Before I speak of this town I think Ishall interest my readers by narrating a circumstance not unworthy ofthese Memoirs. 

CHAPTER VI

A Clever Cheat--Passano--Pisa--Corilla--My Opinion of SquintingEyes--Florence--I See Therese Again--My Son--Corticelli

I was standing at some distance from my carriage into which they wereputting four horses, when a man accosted me and asked me if I would payin advance or at the next stage. Without troubling to look at him I saidI would pay in advance, and gave him a coin requesting him to bring methe change. 

"Directly, sir, " said he, and with that he went into the inn. 

A few minutes after, just as I was going to look after my change, thepost-master came up and asked me to pay for the stage. 

"I have paid already, and I am waiting for my change. Did I not give themoney to you?"

"Certainly not, sir. "

"Whom did I give it to, then?"

"I really can't say; but you will be able to recognize the man, doubtless. "

"It must have been you or one of your people. "

I was speaking loud, and all the men came about me. 

"These are all the men in my employ, " said the master, and he asked ifany of them had received the money from me. 

They all denied the fact with an air of sincerity which left no room forsuspicion. I cursed and swore, but they let me curse and swear as much asI liked. At last I discovered that there was no help for it, and I paid asecond time, laughing at the clever rascal who had taken me in sothoroughly. Such are the lessons of life; always full of new experiences, and yet one never knows enough. From that day I have always taken carenot to pay for posting except to the proper persons. 

In no country are knaves so cunning as in Italy, Greece ancient andmodern excepted. 

When I got to the best inn at Leghorn they told me that there was atheatre, and my luck made me go and see the play. I was recognized by anactor who accosted me, and introduced me to one of his comrades, aself-styled poet, and a great enemy of the Abbe Chiari, whom I did notlike, as he had written a biting satire against me, and I had neversucceeded in avenging myself on him. I asked them to come and sup withme--a windfall which these people are not given to refusing. Thepretended poet was a Genoese, and called himself Giacomo Passano. Heinformed me that he had written three hundred sonnets against the abbe, who would burst with rage if they were ever printed. As I could notrestrain a smile at the good opinion the poet had of his works, heoffered to read me a few sonnets. He had the manuscript about him, and Icould not escape the penance. He read a dozen or so, which I thoughtmediocre, and a mediocre sonnet is necessarily a bad sonnet, as this formof poetry demands sublimity; and thus amongst the myriads of sonnets towhich Italy gives birth very few can be called good. 

If I had given myself time to examine the man's features, I should, nodoubt, have found him to be a rogue; but I was blinded by passion, andthe idea of three hundred sonnets against the Abbe Chiari fascinated me. 

I cast my eyes over the title of the manuscript, and read, "La Chiareidedi Ascanio Pogomas. "

"That's an anagram of my Christian name and my surname; is it not a happycombination?"

This folly made me smile again. Each of the sonnets was a dull diatribeending with "l'abbate Chiari e un coglione. " He did not prove that he wasone, but he said so over and over again, making use of the poet'sprivilege to exaggerate and lie. What he wanted to do was to annoy theabbe, who was by no means what Passano called him, but on the contrary, awit and a poet; and if he had been acquainted with the requirements ofthe stage he would have written better plays than Goldoni, as he had agreater command of language. 

I told Passano, for civility's sake, that he ought to get his Chiareideprinted. 

"I would do so, " said he, "if I could find a publisher, for I am not richenough to pay the expenses, and the publishers are a pack of ignorantbeggars. Besides, the press is not free, and the censor would not let theepithet I give to my hero pass. If I could go to Switzerland I am sure itcould be managed; but I must have six sequins to walk to Switzerland, andI have not got them. "

"And when you got to Switzerland, where there are no theatres, what wouldyou do for a living?"

"I would paint in miniature. Look at those. "

He gave me a number of small ivory tablets, representing obscenesubjects, badly drawn and badly painted. 

"I will give you an introduction to a gentleman at Berne, " I said; andafter supper I gave him a letter and six sequins. He wanted to force someof his productions on me, but I would not have them. 

I was foolish enough to give him a letter to pretty Sara's father, and Itold him to write to me at Rome, under cover of the banker Belloni. 

I set out from Leghorn the next day and went to Pisa, where I stopped twodays. There I made the acquaintance of an Englishman, of whom I bought atravelling carriage. He took me to see Corilla, the celebrated poetess. She received me with great politeness, and was kind enough to improviseon several subjects which I suggested. I was enchanted, not so much withher grace and beauty, as by her wit and perfect elocution. How sweet alanguage sounds when it is spoken well and the expressions are wellchosen. A language badly spoken is intolerable even from a pretty mouth, and I have always admired the wisdom of the Greeks who made their nursesteach the children from the cradle to speak correctly and pleasantly. Weare far from following their good example; witness the fearful accentsone hears in what is called, often incorrectly, good society. 

Corilla was 'straba', like Venus as painted by the ancients--why, Icannot think, for however fair a squint-eyed woman may be otherwise, Ialways look upon her face as distorted. I am sure that if Venus had beenin truth a goddess, she would have made the eccentric Greek, who firstdared to paint her cross-eyed, feel the weight of her anger. I was toldthat when Corilla sang, she had only to fix her squinting eyes on a manand the conquest was complete; but, praised be God! she did not fix themon me. 

At Florence I lodged at the "Hotel Carrajo, " kept by Dr. Vannini, whodelighted to confess himself an unworthy member of the Academy DellaCrusca. I took a suite of rooms which looked out on the bank of the Arno. I also took a carriage and a footman, whom, as well as a coachman, I cladin blue and red livery. This was M. De Bragadin's livery, and I thought Imight use his colours, not with the intention of deceiving anyone, butmerely to cut a dash. 

The morning after my arrival I put on my great coat to escapeobservation, and proceeded to walk about Florence. In the evening I wentto the theatre to see the famous harlequin, Rossi, but I considered hisreputation was greater than he deserved. I passed the same judgment onthe boasted Florentine elocution; I did not care for it at all. I enjoyedseeing Pertici; having become old, and not being able to sing any more, he acted, and, strange to say, acted well; for, as a rule, all singers, men and women, trust to their voice and care nothing for acting, so thatan ordinary cold entirely disables them for the time being. 

Next day I called on the banker, Sasso Sassi, on whom I had a good letterof credit, and after an excellent dinner I dressed and went to the operaan via della Pergola, taking a stage box, not so much for the music, ofwhich I was never much of an admirer, as because I wanted to look at theactress. 

The reader may guess my delight and surprise when I recognised in theprima donna Therese, the false Bellino, whom I had left at Rimini in theyear 1744; that charming Therese whom I should certainly have married ifM. De Gages had not put me under arrest. I had not seen her for seventeenyears, but she looked as beautiful and ravishing as ever as she cameforward on the stage. It seemed impossible. I could not believe my eyes, thinking the resemblance must be a coincidence, when, after singing anair, she fixed her eyes on mine and kept them there. I could no longerdoubt that it was she; she plainly recognized me. As she left the stageshe stopped at the wings and made a sign to me with her fan to come andspeak to her. 

I went out with a beating heart, though I could not explain myperturbation, for I did not feel guilty in any way towards Therese, savein that I had not answered the last letter she had written me fromNaples, thirteen years ago. I went round the theatre, feeling a greatercuriosity as to the results of our interview than to know what hadbefallen her during the seventeen years which seemed an age to me. 

I came to the stage-door, and I saw Therese standing at the top of thestair. She told the door-keeper to let me pass; I went up and we stoodface to face. Dumb with surprise I took her hand and pressed it againstmy heart. 

"Know from that beating heart, " said I, "all that I feel. "

"I can't follow your example, " said she, "but when I saw you I thought Ishould have fainted. Unfortunately I am engaged to supper. I shall notshut my eyes all night. I shall expect you at eight o'clock to-morrowmorning. Where are you staying?"

"At Dr. Vannini's. "

"Under what name?"

"My own. "

"How long have you been here?"

"Since yesterday. "

"Are you stopping long in Florence?"

"As long as you like. "

"Are you married?"

"No. "

"Cursed be that supper! What an event! You must leave me now, I have togo on. Good-bye till seven o'clock to-morrow. "

She had said eight at first, but an hour sooner was no harm. I returnedto the theatre, and recollected that I had neither asked her name oraddress, but I could find out all that easily. She was playing Mandane, and her singing and acting were admirable. I asked a well-dressed youngman beside me what that admirable actress's name was. 

"You have only come to Florence to-day, sir?"

"I arrived yesterday. "

"Ah! well, then it's excusable. That actress has the same name as I have. She is my wife, and I am Cirillo Palesi, at your service. "

I bowed and was silent with surprise. I dared not ask where she lived, lest he might think my curiosity impertinent. Therese married to thishandsome young man, of whom, of all others, I had made enquiries abouther! It was like a scene in a play. 

I could bear it no longer. I longed to be alone and to ponder over thisstrange adventure at my ease, and to think about my visit to Therese atseven o'clock the next morning. I felt the most intense curiosity to seewhat the husband would do when he recognized me, and he was certain to doso, for he had looked at me attentively as he spoke. I felt that my oldflame for Therese was rekindled in my heart, and I did not know whether Iwas glad or sorry at her being married. 

I left the opera-house and told my footman to call my carriage. 

"You can't have it till nine o'clock, sir; it was so cold the coachmansent the horses back to the stable. "

"We will return on foot, then. "

"You will catch a cold. "

"What is the prima donna's name?"

"When she came here, she called herself Lanti, but for the last twomonths she has been Madame Palesi. She married a handsome young man withno property and no profession, but she is rich, so he takes his ease anddoes nothing. "

"Where does she live?"

"At the end of this street. There's her house, sir; she lodges on thefirst floor. "

This was all I wanted to know, so I said no more, but took note of thevarious turnings, that I might be able to find my way alone the next day. I ate a light supper, and told Le Duc to call me at six o'clock. 

"But it is not light till seven. "

"I know that. "

"Very good. "

At the dawn of day, I was at the door of the woman I had loved sopassionately. I went to the first floor, rang the bell, and an old womancame out and asked me if I were M. Casanova. I told her that I was, whereupon she said that the lady had informed her I was not coming tilleight. 

"She said seven. "

"Well, well, it's of no consequence. Kindly walk in here. I will go andawake her. "

In five minutes, the young husband in his night-cap and dressing-gowncame in, and said that his wife would not be long. Then looking at meattentively with an astounded stare, he said, "Are you not the gentleman who asked me my wife's name last night?"

"You are right, I did. I have not seen your wife for many years, but Ithought I recognized her. My good fortune made me enquire of her husband, and the friendship which formerly attached me to her will henceforthattach me to you. "

As I uttered this pretty compliment Therese, as fair as love, rushed intothe room with open arms. I took her to my bosom in a transport ofdelight, and thus we remained for two minutes, two friends, two lovers, happy to see one another after a long and sad parting. We kissed eachother again and again, and then bidding her husband sit down she drew meto a couch and gave full course to her tears. I wept too, and my tearswere happy ones. At last we wiped our eyes, and glanced towards thehusband whom we had completely forgotten. He stood in an attitude ofcomplete astonishment, and we burst out laughing. There was something socomic in his surprise that it would have taxed all the talents of thepoet and the caricaturist to depict his expression of amazement. Therese, who knew how to manage him, cried in a pathetic an affectionate voice, --

"My dear Palesi, you see before you my father--nay, more than a father, for this is my generous friend to whom I owe all. Oh, happy moment forwhich my heart has longed for these ten years past. "

At the word "father" the unhappy husband fixed his gaze on me, but Irestrained my laughter with considerable difficulty. Although Therese wasyoung for her age, she was only two years younger than I; but friendshipgives a new meaning to the sweet name of father. 

"Yes, sir, " said I, "your Therese is my daughter, my sister, my cherishedfriend; she is an angel, and this treasure is your wife. "

"I did not reply to your last letter, " said I, not giving him time tocome to himself. 

"I know all, " she replied. "You fell in love with a nun. You wereimprisoned under the Leads, and I heard of your almost miraculous flightat Vienna. I had a false presentiment that I should see you in that town. Afterwards I heard of you in Paris and Holland, but after you left Parisnobody could tell me any more about you. You will hear some fine taleswhen I tell you all that has happened to me during the past ten years. Now I am happy. I have my dear Palesi here, who comes from Rome. Imarried him a couple of months ago. We are very fond of each other, and Ihope you will be as much his friend as mine. "

At this I arose and embraced the husband, who cut such an extraordinaryfigure. He met me with open arms, but in some confusion; he was, nodoubt, not yet quite satisfied as to the individual who was his wife'sfather, brother, friend, and perhaps lover, all at once. Therese saw thisfeeling in his eyes, and after I had done she came and kissed him mostaffectionately, which confused me in my turn, for I felt all my old lovefor her renewed, and as ardent as it was when Don Sancio Pico introducedme to her at Ancona. 

Reassured by my embrace and his wife's caress, M. Palesi asked me if Iwould take a cup of chocolate with them, which he himself would make. Ianswered that chocolate was my favourite breakfast-dish, and all the moreso when it was made by a friend. He went away to see to it. Our time hadcome. 

As soon as we were alone Therese threw herself into my arms, her faceshining with such love as no pen can describe. 

"Oh, my love! whom I shall love all my life, clasp me to your breast! Letus give each other a hundred embraces on this happy day, but not again, since my fate has made me another's bride. To-morrow we will be likebrother and sister; to-day let us be lovers. "

She had not finished this speech before my bliss was crowned. Ourtransports were mutual, and we renewed them again and again during thehalf hour in which we had no fear of an interruption. Her negligentmorning dress and my great coat were highly convenient under thecircumstances. 

After we had satiated in part our amorous ardour we breathed again andsat down. There was a short pause, and then she said, "You must know that I am in love with my husband and determined not todeceive him. What I have just done was a debt I had to pay to theremembrance of my first love. I had to pay it to prove how much I loveyou; but let us forget it now. You must be contented with the thought ofmy great affection for you--of which you can have no doubt--and let mestill think that you love me; but henceforth do not let us be alonetogether, as I should give way, and that would vex me. What makes youlook so sad?"

"I find you bound, while I am free. I thought we had met never to partagain; you had kindled the old fires. I am the same to you as I was atAncona. I have proved as much, and you can guess how sad I feel at yourdecree that I am to enjoy you no more. I find that you are not onlymarried but in love with your husband. Alas! I have come too late, but ifI had not stayed at Genoa I should not have been more fortunate. Youshall know all in due time, and in the meanwhile I will be guided by youin everything. I suppose your husband knows nothing of our connection, and my best plan will be to be reserved, will it not?"

"Yes, dearest, for he knows nothing of my affairs, and I am glad to sayhe shews no curiosity respecting them. Like everybody else, he knows Imade my fortune at Naples; I told him I went there when I was ten yearsold. That was an innocent lie which hurts nobody; and in my position Ifind that inconvenient truths have to give way to lies. I give myself outas only twenty-four, how do you think I look?"

"You look as if you were telling the truth, though I know you must bethirty-two. "

"You mean thirty-one, for when I knew you I couldn't have been more thanfourteen. "

"I thought you were fifteen at least. "

"Well, I might admit that between ourselves; but tell me if I look morethan twenty-four. "

"I swear to you you don't look as old, but at Naples . . . . "

"At Naples some people might be able to contradict me, but nobody wouldmind them. But I am waiting for what ought to be the sweetest moment ofyour life. "

"What is that, pray?"

"Allow me to keep my own counsel, I want to enjoy your surprise. How areyou off? If you want money, I can give you back all you gave me, and withcompound interest. All I have belongs to me; my husband is not master ofanything. I have fifty thousand ducats at Naples, and an equal sum indiamonds. Tell me how much you want--quick! the chocolate is coming. "

Such a woman was Therese. I was deeply moved, and was about to throw myarms about her neck without answering when the chocolate came. Herhusband was followed by a girl of exquisite beauty, who carried threecups of chocolate on a silver-gilt dish. While we drank it Palesi amusedus by telling us with much humour how surprised he was when he recognizedthe man who made him rise at such an early hour as the same who had askedhim his wife's name the night before. Therese and I laughed till oursides ached, the story was told so wittily and pleasantly. This Romandispleased me less than I expected; his jealousy seemed only put on forform's sake. 

"At ten o'clock, " said Theresa, "I have a rehearsal here of the newopera. You can stay and listen if you like. I hope you will dine with usevery day, and it will give me great pleasure if you will look upon myhouse as yours. "

"To-day, " said I, "I will stay with you till after supper, and then Iwill leave you with your fortunate husband. "

As I pronounced these words M. Palesi embraced me with effusion, as if tothank me for not objecting to his enjoying his rights as a husband. 

He was between the ages of twenty and twenty-two, of a fair complexion, and well-made, but too pretty for a man. I did not wonder at Theresebeing in love with him, for I knew too well the power of a handsome face;but I thought that she had made a mistake in marrying him, for a husbandacquires certain rights which may become troublesome. 

Therese's pretty maid came to tell me that my carriage was at the door. 

"Will you allow me, " said I to her, "to have my footman in?"

"Rascal, " said I, as soon as he came in, "who told you to come here withmy carriage?"

"Nobody, sir, but I know my duty. "

"Who told you that I was here?"

"I guessed as much. "

"Go and fetch Le Duc, and come back with him. "

When they arrived I told Le Duc to pay the impertinent fellow three days'wages, to strip him of his livery, and to ask Dr. Vannini to get me aservant of the same build, not gifted with the faculty of divination, butwho knew how to obey his master's orders. The rascal was much perturbedat the result of his officiousness, and asked Therese to plead for him;but, like a sensible woman, she told him that his master was the bestjudge of the value of his services. 

At ten o'clock all the actors and actresses arrived, bringing with them amob of amateurs who crowded the hall. Therese received their greetingsgraciously, and I could see she enjoyed a great reputation. The rehearsallasted three hours, and wearied me extremely. To relieve my boredom Italked to Palesi, whom I liked for not asking me any particulars of myacquaintance with his wife. I saw that he knew how to behave in theposition in which he was placed. 

A girl from Parma, named Redegonde, who played a man's part and sang verywell, stayed to dinner. Therese had also asked a young Bolognese, namedCorticelli. I was struck with the budding charms of this pretty dancer, but as I was just then full of Therese, I did not pay much attention toher. Soon after we sat down I saw a plump abbe coming in with measuredsteps. He looked to me a regular Tartuffe, after nothing but Therese. Hecame up to her as soon as he saw her, and going on one knee in thePortuguese fashion, kissed her hand tenderly and respectfully. Theresereceived him with smiling courtesy and put him at her right hand; I wasat their left. His voice, manner, and all about him told me that I hadknown him, and in fact I soon recognized him as the Abbe Gama, whom I hadleft at Rome seventeen years before with Cardinal Acquaviva; but Ipretended not to recognize him, and indeed he had aged greatly. Thisgallant priest had eyes for no one but Therese, and he was too busy withsaying a thousand soft nothings to her to take notice of anybody else inthe company. I hoped that in his turn he would either not recognize me orpretend not to do so, so I was continuing my trifling talk with theCorticelli, when Therese told me that the abbe wanted to know whether Idid not recollect him. I looked at his face attentively, and with the airof a man who is trying to recollect something, and then I rose and askedif he were not the Abbe Gama, with whose acquaintance I was honoured. 

"The same, " said he, rising, and placing his arms round my neck he kissedme again and again. This was in perfect agreement with his craftycharacter; the reader will not have forgotten the portrait of himcontained in the first volume of these Memoirs. 

After the ice had been thus broken it will be imagined that we had a longconversation. He spoke of Barbaruccia, of the fair Marchioness G----, ofCardinal S---- C----, and told me how he had passed from the Spanish tothe Portuguese service, in which he still continued. I was enjoying histalk about numerous subjects which had interested me in my early youth, when an unexpected sight absorbed all my thinking faculties. A young manof fifteen or sixteen, as well grown as Italians usually are at that age, came into the room, saluted the company with easy grace, and kissedTherese. I was the only person who did not know him, but I was not theonly one who looked surprised. The daring Therese introduced him to mewith perfect coolness with the words:--

"That is my brother. "

I greeted him as warmly as I could, but my manner was slightly confused, as I had not had time to recover my composure. This so-called brother ofTherese was my living image, though his complexion was rather clearerthan mine. I saw at once that he was my son; nature had never been soindiscreet as in the amazing likeness between us. This, then, was thesurprise of which Therese had spoken; she had devised the pleasure ofseeing me at once astounded and delighted, for she knew that my heartwould be touched at the thought of having left her such a pledge of ourmutual love. I had not the slightest foreknowledge in the matter, forTherese had never alluded to her being with child in her letters. Ithought, however, that she should not have brought about this meeting inthe presence of a third party, for everyone has eyes in their head, andanyone with eyes must have seen that the young man was either my son ormy brother. I glanced at her, but she avoided meeting my eye, while thepretended brother was looking at me so attentively that he did not hearwhat was said to him. As to the others, they did nothing but look firstat me and then at him, and if they came to the conclusion that he was myson they would be obliged to suppose that I had been the lover ofTherese's mother, if she were really his sister, for taking intoconsideration the age she looked and gave herself out to be she could notpossibly be his mother. It was equally impossible that I could beTherese's father, as I did not look any older than she did. 

My son spoke the Neapolitan dialect perfectly, but he also spoke Italianvery well, and in whatever he said I was glad to recognize taste, goodsense, and intelligence. He was well-informed, though he had been broughtup at Naples, and his manners were very distinguished. His mother madehim sit between us at table. 

"His favourite amusement, " she said to me, "is music. You must hear himon the clavier, and though I am eight years older I shall not besurprised if you pronounce him the better performer. "

Only a woman's delicate instinct could have suggested this remark; menhardly ever approach women in this respect. 

Whether from natural impulses or self-esteem, I rose from the table sodelighted with my son that I embraced him with the utmost tenderness, andwas applauded by the company. I asked everybody to dine with me the nextday, and my invitation was joyfully accepted; but the Corticelli said, with the utmost simplicity, "May I come, too?"

"Certainty; you too. "

After dinner the Abbe Gama asked me to breakfast with him, or to have himto breakfast the next morning, as he was longing for a good talk with me. 

"Come and breakfast with me, " said I, "I shall be delighted to see you. "

When the guests had gone Don Cesarino, as the pretended brother ofTherese was called, asked me if I would walk with him. I kissed him, andreplied that my carriage was at his service, and that he and hisbrother-in-law could drive in it, but that I had resolved not to leavehis sister that day. Palesi seemed quite satisfied with the arrangement, and they both went away. 

When we were alone, I gave Therese an ardent embrace, and congratulatedher on having such a brother. 

"My dear, he is the fruit of our amours; he is your son. He makes mehappy, and is happy himself, and indeed he has everything to make himso. "

"And I, too, am happy, dear Therese. You must have seen that I recognizedhim at once. "

"But do you want to give him a brother? How ardent you are!"

"Remember, beloved one, that to-morrow we are to be friends, and nothingmore. "

By this my efforts were crowned with success, but the thought that it wasthe last time was a bitter drop in the cup of happiness. 

When we had regained our composure, Therese said, --

"The duke who took me from Rimini brought up our child; as soon as I knewthat I was pregnant I confided my secret to him. No one knew of mydelivery, and the child was sent to nurse at Sorrento, and the duke hadhim baptized under the name of Caesar Philip Land. He remained atSorrento till he was nine, and then he was boarded with a worthy man, whosuperintended his education and taught him music. From his earliestchildhood he has known me as his sister, and you cannot think how happy Iwas when I saw him growing so like you. I have always considered him as asure pledge of our final union. I was ever thinking what would happenwhen we met, for I knew that he would have the same influence over you ashe has over me. I was sure you would marry me and make him legitimate. "

"And you have rendered all this, which would have made me happy, animpossibility. "

"The fates decided so; we will say no more about it. On the death of theduke I left Naples, leaving Cesarino at the same boarding school, underthe protection of the Prince de la Riccia, who has always looked upon himas a brother. Your son, though he does not know it, possesses the sum oftwenty thousand ducats, of which I receive the interest, but you mayimagine that I let him want for nothing. My only regret is that I cannottell him I am his mother, as I think he would love me still more if heknew that he owed his being to me. You cannot think how glad I was to seeyour surprise to-day, and how soon you got to love him. "

"He is wonderfully like me. "

"That delights me. People must think that you were my mother's lover. Myhusband thinks that our friendship is due to the connection between youand my mother. He told me yesterday that Cesarino might be my brother onthe mother's side, but not on my father's; as he had seen his father inthe theatre, but that he could not possibly be my father, too. If I havechildren by Palesi all I have will go to them, but if not Cesarino willbe my heir. My property is well secured, even if the Prince de Ricciawere to die. "

"Come, " said she, drawing me in the direction of her bed-room. She openeda large box which contained her jewels and diamonds, and shares to theamount of fifty thousand ducats. Besides that she had a large amount ofplate, and her talents which assured her the first place in all theItalian theatres. 

"Do you know whether our dear Cesarino has been in love yet?" said I. 

"I don't think so, but I fancy my pretty maid is in love with him. Ishall keep my eyes open. "

"You mustn't be too strict. "

"No, but it isn't a good thing for a young man to engage too soon in thatpleasure which makes one neglect everything else. "

"Let me have him, I will teach him how to live. "

"Ask all, but leave me my son. You must know that I never kiss him forfear of my giving way to excessive emotion. I wish you knew how good andpure he is, and how well he loves me, I could not refuse him anything. "

"What will people say in Venice when they see Casanova again, who escapedfrom The Leads and has become twenty years younger?"

"You are going to Venice, then, for the Ascensa?"

"Yes, and you are going to Rome?"

"And to Naples, to see my friend the Duke de Matalone. "

"I know him well. He has already had a son by the daughter of the Duke deBovino, whom he married. She must be a charming woman to have made a manof him, for all Naples knew that he was impotent. "

"Probably, she only knew the secret of making him a father. "

"Well, it is possible. "

We spent the time by talking with interest on various topics tillCesarino and the husband came back. The dear child finished his conquestof me at supper; he had a merry random wit, and all the Neapolitanvivacity. He sat down at the clavier, and after playing several pieceswith the utmost skill he began to sing Neapolitan songs which made us alllaugh. Therese only looked at him and me, but now and again she embracedher husband, saying, that in love alone lies happiness. 

I thought then, and I think now, that this day was one of the happiest Ihave ever spent. 

CHAPTER VII

The Corticelli--The Jew Manager Beaten--The False Charles Ivanoff and theTrick He Played Me--I Am Ordered to Leave Tuscany--I Arrive at Rome--MyBrother Jean

At nine o'clock the next morning, the Abbe Gama was announced. The firstthing he did was to shed tears of joy (as he said) at seeing me so welland prosperous after so many years. The reader will guess that the abbeaddressed me in the most flattering terms, and perhaps he may know thatone may be clever, experienced in the ways of the world, and evendistrustful of flattery, but yet one's self-love, ever on the watch, listens to the flatterer, and thinks him pleasant. This polite andpleasant abbe, who had become extremely crafty from having lived all hisdays amongst the high dignitaries at the court of the 'Servus ServorumDei' (the best school of strategy), was not altogether an ill-disposedman, but both his disposition and his profession conspired to make himinquisitive; in fine, such as I have depicted him in the first volume ofthese Memoirs. He wanted to hear my adventures, and did not wait for meto ask him to tell his story. He told me at great length the variousincidents in his life for the seventeen years in which we had not seenone another. He had left the service of the King of Spain for that of theKing of Portugal, he was secretary of embassy to the Commander Almada, and he had been obliged to leave Rome because the Pope Rezzonico wouldnot allow the King of Portugal to punish certain worthy Jesuit assassins, who had only broken his arm as it happened, but who had none the lessmeant to take his life. Thus, Gama was staying in Italy correspondingwith Almada and the famous Carvalho, waiting for the dispute to befinished before he returned to Rome. In point of fact this was the onlysubstantial incident in the abbe's story, but he worked in so manyepisodes of no consequence that it lasted for an hour. No doubt he wishedme to shew my gratitude by telling him all my adventures without reserve;but the upshot of it was that we both shewed ourselves true diplomatists, he in lengthening his story, I in shortening mine, while I could not helpfeeling some enjoyment in baulking the curiosity of my cassocked friend. 

"What are you going to do in Rome?" said he, indifferently. 

"I am going to beg the Pope to use his influence in my favour with theState Inquisitors at Venice. "

It was not the truth, but one lie is as good as another, and if I hadsaid I was only going for amusement's sake he would not have believed me. To tell the truth to an unbelieving man is to prostitute, to murder it. He then begged me to enter into a correspondence with him, and as thatbound me to nothing I agreed to do so. 

"I can give you a mark of my friendship, " said he, "by introducing you tothe Marquis de Botta-Adamo, Governor of Tuscany; he is supposed to be afriend of the regent's. "

I accepted his offer gratefully, and he began to sound me about Therese, but found my lips as tightly closed as the lid of a miser's coffer. Itold him she was a child when I made the acquaintance of her family atBologna, and that the resemblance between her brother and myself was amere accident--a freak of nature. He happened to catch sight of awell-written manuscript on the table, and asked me if that superb writingwas my secretary's. Costa, who was present, answered in Spanish that hewrote it. Gama overwhelmed him with compliments, and begged me to sendCosta to him to copy some letters. I guessed that he wanted to pump himabout me, and said that I needed his services all the day. 

"Well, well, " said the abbe, "another time will do. " I gave him noanswer. Such is the character of the curious. 

I am not referring to that curiosity which depends on the occultsciences, and endeavours to pry into the future--the daughter ofignorance and superstition, its victims are either foolish or ignorant. But the Abbe Gama was neither; he was naturally curious, and hisemployment made him still more so, for he was paid to find outeverything. He was a diplomatist; if he had been a little lower down inthe social scale he would have been treated as a spy. 

He left me to pay some calls, promising to be back by dinner-time. 

Dr. Vannini brought me another servant, of the same height as the first, and engaged that he should obey orders and guess nothing. I thanked theacademician and inn-keeper, and ordered him to get me a sumptuous dinner. 

The Corticelli was the first to arrive, bringing with her her brother, aneffeminate-looking young man, who played the violin moderately well, andher mother, who informed me that she never allowed her daughter to dineout without herself and her son. 

"Then you can take her back again this instant, " said I, "or take thisducat to dine somewhere else, as I don't want your company or yourson's. "

She took the ducat, saying that she was sure she was leaving her daughterin good hands. 

"You may be sure of that, " said I, "so be off. "

The daughter made such witty observations on the above dialogue that Icould not help laughing, and I began to be in love with her. She was onlythirteen, and was so small that she looked ten. She was well-made, lively, witty, and fairer than is usual with Italian women, but to thisday I cannot conceive how I fell in love with her. 

The young wanton begged me to protect her against the manager of theopera, who was a Jew. In the agreement she had made with him he hadengaged to let her dance a 'pas de deux' in the second opera, and he hadnot kept his word. She begged me to compel the Jew to fulfil hisengagement, and I promised to do so. 

The next guest was Redegonde, who came from Parma. She was a tall, handsome woman, and Costa told me she was the sister of my new footman. After I had talked with her for two or three minutes I found her remarkswell worthy of attention. 

Then came the Abbe Gama, who congratulated me on being seated between twopretty girls. I made him take my place, and he began to entertain them asif to the manner born; and though the girls were laughing at him, he wasnot in the least disconcerted. He thought he was amusing them, and onwatching his expression I saw that his self-esteem prevented him seeingthat he was making a fool of himself; but I did not guess that I mightmake the same mistake at his age. 

Wretched is the old man who will not recognize his old age; wretchedunless he learn that the sex whom he seduced so often when he was youngwill despise him now if he still attempts to gain their favour. 

My fair Therese, with her husband and my son, was the last to arrive. Ikissed Therese and then my son, and sat down between them, whispering toTherese that such a dear mysterious trinity must not be parted; at whichTherese smiled sweetly. The abbe sat down between Redegonde and theCorticelli, and amused us all the time by his agreeable conversation. 

I laughed internally when I observed how respectfully my new footmanchanged his sister's plate, who appeared vain of honours to which herbrother could lay no claim. She was not kind; she whispered to me, sothat he could not hear, --

"He is a good fellow, but unfortunately he is rather stupid. "

I had put in my pocket a superb gold snuff-box, richly enamelled andadorned with a perfect likeness of myself. I had had it made at Paris, with the intention of giving it to Madame d'Urfe, and I had not done sobecause the painter had made me too young. I had filled it with someexcellent Havana snuff which M. De Chavigny had given me, and of whichTherese was very fond; I was waiting for her to ask me for a pinch beforeI drew it out of my pocket. 

The Abbe Gama, who had some exceedingly good snuff in an Origonela box, sent a pinch to Therese, and she sent him her snuff in a tortoise-shellbox encrusted with gold in arabesques--an exquisite piece of workmanship. Gama criticised Therese's snuff, while I said that I found it deliciousbut that I thought I had some better myself. I took out my snuff-box, andopening it offered her a pinch. She did not notice the portrait, but sheagreed that my snuff was vastly superior to hers. 

"Well, would you like to make an exchange?" said I. "Certainly, give mesome paper. "

"That is not requisite; we will exchange the snuff and the snuff-boxes. "

So saying, I put Therese's box in my pocket and gave her mine shut. Whenshe saw the portrait, she gave a cry which puzzled everybody, and herfirst motion was to kiss the portrait. 

"Look, " said she to Cesarino, "here is your portrait. "

Cesarino looked at it in astonishment, and the box passed from hand tohand. Everybody said that it was my portrait, taken ten years ago, andthat it might pass for a likeness of Cesarino. Therese got quite excited, and swearing that she would never let the box out of her hands again, shewent up to her son and kissed him several times. While this was going onI watched the Abbe Gama, and I could see that he was making internalcomments of his own on this affecting scene. 

The worthy abbe went away towards the evening, telling me that he wouldexpect me to breakfast next morning. 

I spent the rest of the day in making love to Redegonde, and Therese, whosaw that I was pleased with the girl, advised me to declare myself, andpromised that she would ask her to the house as often as I liked. ButTherese did not know her. 

Next morning Gama told me that he had informed Marshal Botta that I wouldcome and see him, and he would present me at four o'clock. Then theworthy abbe, always the slave of his curiosity, reproached me in afriendly manner for not having told him anything about my fortune. 

"I did not think it was worth mentioning, but as you are interested inthe subject I may tell you that my means are small, but that I havefriends whose purses are always open to me. "

"If you have true friends you are a rich man, but true friends arescarce. "

I left the Abbe Gama, my head full of Redegonde, whom I preferred to theyoung Corticelli, and I went to pay her a visit; but what a reception!She received me in a room in which were present her mother, her uncle, and three or four dirty, untidy little monkeys: these were her brothers. '

"Haven't you a better room to receive your friends in?" said I. 

"I have no friends, so I don't want a room. "

"Get it, my dear, and you will find the friends come fast enough. This isall very well for you to welcome your relations in, but not persons likemyself who come to do homage to your charms and your talents. "

"Sir, " said the mother, "my daughter has but few talents, and thinksnothing of her charms, which are small. "

"You are extremely modest, and I appreciate your feelings; but everybodydoes not see your daughter with the same eyes, and she pleased megreatly. "

"That is an honour for her, and we are duly sensible of it, but not so asto be over-proud. My daughter will see you as often as you please, buthere, and in no other place. "

"But I am afraid of being in the way here. "

"An honest man is never in the way. "

I felt ashamed, for nothing so confounds a libertine as modesty in themouth of poverty; and not knowing what to answer I took my leave. 

I told Therese of my unfortunate visit, and we both, laughed at it; itwas the best thing we could do. 

"I shall be glad to see you at the opera, " said she, "and you can getinto my dressing-room if you give the door-keeper a small piece ofmoney. "

The Abbe Gama came as he promised, to take me to Marshal Botta, a man ofhigh talents whom the affair of Genoa had already rendered famous. He wasin command of the Austrian army when the people, growing angry at thesight of the foreigners, who had only come to put them under the Austrianyoke, rose in revolt and made them leave the town. This patriotic riotsaved the Republic. I found him in the midst of a crowd of ladies andgentlemen, whom he left to welcome me. He talked about Venice in a waythat shewed he understood the country thoroughly, and I conversed to himon France, and, I believe, satisfied him. In his turn he spoke of theCourt of Russia, at which he was staying when Elizabeth Petrovna, who wasstill reigning at the period in question, so easily mounted the throne ofher father, Peter the Great. "It is only in Russia, " said he, "thatpoison enters into politics. "

At the time when the opera began the marshal left the room, and everybodywent away. On my way the abbe assured me, as a matter of course, that Ihad pleased the governor, and I afterwards went to the theatre, andobtained admission to Therese's dressing-room for a tester. I found herin the hands of her pretty chamber-maid, and she advised me to go toRedegonde's dressing-room, as she played a man's part, and might, perhaps, allow me to assist in her toilette. 

I followed her advice, but the mother would not let me come in, as herdaughter was just going to dress. I assured her that I would turn my backall the time she was dressing, and on this condition she let me in, andmade me sit down at a table on which stood a mirror, which enabled me tosee all Redegonde's most secret parts to advantage; above all, when shelifted her legs to put on her breeches, either most awkwardly or mostcleverly, according to her intentions. She did not lose anything by whatshe shewed, however, for I was so pleased, that to possess her charms Iwould have signed any conditions she cared to impose upon me. 

"Redegonde must know, " I said to myself, "that I could see everything inthe glass;" and the idea inflamed me. I did not turn round till themother gave me leave, and I then admired my charmer as a young man offive feet one, whose shape left nothing to be desired. 

Redegonde went out, and I followed her to the wings. 

"My dear, " said I, "I am going to talk plainly to you. You have inflamedmy passions and I shall die if you do not make me happy. "

"You do not say that you will die if you chance to make me unhappy. "

"I could not say so, because I cannot conceive such a thing as possible. Do not trifle with me, dear Redegonde, you must be aware that I saw allin the mirror, and I cannot think that you are so cruel as to arouse mypassions and then leave me to despair. "

"What could you have seen? I don't know what you are talking about. "

"May be, but know that I have seen all your charms. What shall I do topossess you?"

"To possess me? I don't understand you, sir; I'm an honest girl. "

"I dare say; but you wouldn't be any less honest after making me happy. Dear Redegonde, do not let me languish for you, but tell me my fate nowthis instant. "

"I do not know what to tell you, but you can come and see me whenever youlike. "

"When shall I find you alone?"

"Alone! I am never alone. "

"Well, well, that's of no consequence; if only your mother is present, that comes to the same thing. If she is sensible, she will pretend not tosee anything, and I will give you a hundred ducats each time. "

"You are either a madman, or you do not know what sort of people we are. "

With these words she went on, and I proceeded to tell Therese what hadpassed. 

"Begin, " said she, "by offering the hundred ducats to the mother, and ifshe refuses, have no more to do with them, and go elsewhere. "

I returned to the dressing-room, where I found the mother alone, andwithout any ceremony spoke as follows:--

"Good evening, madam, I am a stranger here; I am only staying a week, andI am in love with your daughter. If you like to be obliging, bring her tosup with me. I will give you a hundred sequins each time, so you see mypurse is in your power. "

"Whom do you think you are talking to, sir? I am astonished at yourimpudence. Ask the townsfolk what sort of character I bear, and whethermy daughter is an honest girl or not! and you will not make suchproposals again. "

"Good-bye, madam. "

"Good-bye, sir. "

As I went out I met Redegonde, and I told her word for word theconversation I had had with her mother. She burst out laughing. 

"Have I done well or ill?" said I. 

"Well enough, but if you love me come and see me. "

"See you after what your mother said?"

"Well, why not, who knows of it?"

"Who knows? You don't know me, Redegonde. I do not care to indulge myselfin idle hopes, and I thought I had spoken to you plainly enough. "

Feeling angry, and vowing to have no more to do with this strange girl, Isupped with Therese, and spent three delightful hours with her. I had agreat deal of writing to do the next day and kept in doors, and in theevening I had a visit from the young Corticelli, her mother and brother. She begged me to keep my promise regarding the manager of the theatre, who would not let her dance the 'pas de deux' stipulated for in theagreement. 

"Come and breakfast with me to-morrow morning, " said I, "and I will speakto the Israelite in your presence--at least I will do so if he comes. "

"I love you very much, " said the young wanton, "can't I stop a littlelonger here. "

"You may stop as long as you like, but as I have got some letters tofinish, I must ask you to excuse my entertaining you. "

"Oh! just as you please. "

I told Costa to give her some supper. 

I finished my letters and felt inclined for a little amusement, so I madethe girl sit by me and proceeded to toy with her, but in such a way thather mother could make no objection. All at once the brother came up andtried to join in the sport, much to my astonishment. 

"Get along with you, " said I, "you are not a girl. "

At this the young scoundrel proceeded to shew me his sex, but in such anindecent fashion that his sister, who was sitting on my knee, burst outlaughing and took refuge with her mother, who was sitting at the otherend of the room in gratitude for the good supper I had given her. I rosefrom my chair, and after giving the impudent pederast a box on the ear Iasked the mother with what intentions she had brought the young rascal tomy house. By way of reply the infamous woman said, --

"He's a pretty lad, isn't he?"

I gave him a ducat for the blow I had given him, and told the mother tobegone, as she disgusted me. The pathic took my ducat, kissed my hand, and they all departed. 

I went to bed feeling amused at the incident, and wondering at thewickedness of a mother who would prostitute her own son to the basest ofvices. 

Next morning I sent and asked the Jew to call on me. The Corticelli camewith her mother, and the Jew soon after, just as we were going tobreakfast. 

I proceeded to explain the grievance of the young dancer, and I read theagreement he had made with her, telling him politely that I could easilyforce him to fulfil it. The Jew put in several excuses, of which theCorticelli demonstrated the futility. At last the son of Judah was forcedto give in, and promised to speak to the ballet-master the same day, inorder that she might dance the 'pas' with the actor she named. 

"And that, I hope, will please your excellency, " he added, with a lowbow, which is not often a proof of sincerity, especially among Jews. 

When my guests had taken leave I went to the Abbe Gama, to dine withMarshal Botta who had asked us to dinner. I made the acquaintance thereof Sir Mann, the English ambassador, who was the idol of Florence, veryrich, of the most pleasing manners although an Englishman; full of wit, taste, and a great lover of the fine arts. He invited me to come next dayand see his house and garden. In this home he had made--furniture, pictures, choice books--all shewed the man of genius. He called on me, asked me to dinner, and had the politeness to include Therese, herhusband, and Cesarino in the invitation. After dinner my son sat down atthe clavier and delighted the company by his exquisite playing. While wewere talking of likenesses, Sir Mann shewed us some miniatures of greatbeauty. 

Before leaving, Therese told me that she had been thinking seriously ofme. 

"In what respect?" I asked. 

"I have told Redegonde that I am going to call for her, that I will keepher to supper, and have her taken home. You must see that this lastcondition is properly carried out. Come to supper too, and have yourcarriage in waiting. I leave the rest to you. You will only be a fewminutes with her, but that's something; and the first step leads far. "

"An excellent plan. I will sup with you, and my carriage shall be ready. I will tell you all about it to-morrow. "

I went to the house at nine o'clock, and was welcomed as an unexpectedguest. I told Redegonde that I was glad to meet her, and she replied thatshe had not hoped to have the pleasure of seeing me. Redegonde was theonly one who had any appetite; she ate capitally, and laughed merrily atthe stories I told her. 

After supper Therese asked her if she would like to have a sedan-chairsent for, or if she would prefer to be taken back in my carriage. 

"If the gentleman will be so kind, " said she, "I need not send for achair. "

I thought this reply of such favourable omen that I no longer doubted ofmy success. After she had wished the others good night, she took my arm, pressing it as she did so; we went down the stairs, and she got into thecarriage. I got in after her, and on attempting to sit down I found theplace taken. 

"Who is that?" I cried. 

Redegonde burst out laughing, and informed me it was her mother. 

I was done; I could not summon up courage to pass it off as a jest. Sucha shock makes a man stupid; for a moment it numbs all the mentalfaculties, and wounded self-esteem only gives place to anger. 

I sat down on the front seat and coldly asked the mother why she had notcome up to supper with us. When the carriage stopped at their door, sheasked me to come in, but I told her I would rather not. I felt that for alittle more I would have boxed her ears, and the man at the house doorlooked very like a cut-throat. 

I felt enraged and excited physically as well as mentally, and though Ihad never been to see the Corticelli, told the coachman to drive thereimmediately, as I felt sure of finding her well disposed. Everybody wasgone to bed. I knocked at the door till I got an answer, I gave my name, and I was let in, everything being in total darkness. The mother told meshe would light a candle, and that if she had expected me she would havewaited up in spite of the cold. I felt as if I were in the middle of aniceberg. I heard the girl laughing, and going up to the bed and passingmy hand over it I came across some plain tokens of the masculine gender. I had got hold of her brother. In the meanwhile the mother had got acandle, and I saw the girl with the bedclothes up to her chin, for, likeher brother, she was as naked as my hand. Although no Puritan, I wasshocked. 

"Why do you allow this horrible union?" I said to the mother. 

"What harm is there? They are brother and sister. "

"That's just what makes it a criminal matter. "

"Everything is perfectly innocent. "

"Possibly; but it's not a good plan. "

The pathic escaped from the bed and crept into his mother's, while thelittle wanton told me there was really no harm, as they only loved eachother as brother and sister, and that if I wanted her to sleep by herselfall I had to do was to get her a new bed. This speech, delivered witharch simplicity, in her Bolognese jargon, made me laugh with all myheart, for in the violence of her gesticulations she had disclosed halfher charms, and I saw nothing worth looking at. In spite of that, it wasdoubtless decreed that I should fall in love with her skin, for that wasall she had. 

If I had been alone I should have brought matters to a crisis on thespot, but I had a distaste to the presence of her mother and herscoundrelly brother. I was afraid lest some unpleasant scenes mightfollow. I gave her ten ducats to buy a bed, said good night, and left thehouse. I returned to my lodging, cursing the too scrupulous mothers ofthe opera girls. 

I passed the whole of the next morning with Sir Mann, in his gallery, which contained some exquisite paintings, sculptures, mosaics, andengraved gems. On leaving him, I called on Therese and informed her of mymisadventure of the night before. She laughed heartily at my story, and Ilaughed too, in spite of a feeling of anger due to my woundedself-esteem. 

"You must console yourself, " said she; "you will not find much difficultyin filling the place in your affections. "

"Ah! why are you married?"

"Well, it's done; and there's no helping it. But listen to me. As youcan't do without someone, take up with the Corticelli; she's as good asany other woman, and won't keep you waiting long. "

On my return to my lodging, I found the Abbe Gama, whom I had invited todinner, and he asked me if I would accept a post to represent Portugal atthe approaching European Congress at Augsburg. He told me that if I didthe work well, I could get anything I liked at Lisbon. 

"I am ready to do my best, " said I; "you have only to write to me, and Iwill tell you where to direct your letters. " This proposal made me longto become a diplomatist. 

In the evening I went to the opera-house and spoke to the ballet-master, the dancer who was to take part in the 'pas de deux', and to the Jew, whotold me that my protegee should be satisfied in two or three days, andthat she should perform her favourite 'pas' for the rest of the carnival. I saw the Corticelli, who told me she had got her bed, and asked me tocome to supper. I accepted the invitation, and when the opera was over Iwent to her house. 

Her mother, feeling sure that I would pay the bill, had ordered anexcellent supper for four, and several flasks of the best Florence wine. Besides that, she gave me a bottle of the wine called Oleatico, which Ifound excellent. The three Corticellis unaccustomed to good fare andwine, ate like a troop, and began to get intoxicated. The mother and sonwent to bed without ceremony, and the little wanton invited me to followtheir example. I should have liked to do so, but I did not dare. It wasvery cold and there was no fire in the room, there was only one blanketon the bed, and I might have caught a bad cold, and I was too fond of mygood health to expose myself to such a danger. I therefore satisfiedmyself by taking her on my knee, and after a few preliminaries sheabandoned herself to my transports, endeavouring to persuade me that Ihad got her maidenhead. I pretended to believe her, though I cared verylittle whether it were so or not. 

I left her after I had repeated the dose three or four times, and gaveher fifty sequins, telling her to get a good wadded coverlet and a largebrazier, as I wanted to sleep with her the next night. 

Next morning I received an extremely interesting letter from Grenoble. M. De Valenglard informed me that the fair Mdlle. Roman, feeling convincedthat her horoscope would never come true unless she went to Paris, hadgone to the capital with her aunt. 

Her destiny was a strange one; it depended on the liking I had taken toher and my aversion to marriage, for it lay in my power to have marriedthe handsomest woman in France, and in that case it is not likely thatshe would have become the mistress of Louis XV. What strange whim couldhave made me indicate in her horoscope the necessity of her journeying toParis; for even if there were such a science as astrology I was noastrologer; in fine, her destiny depended on my absurd fancy. And inhistory, what a number of extraordinary events would never have happenedif they had not been predicted!

In the evening I went to the theatre, and found my Corticelli clad in apretty cloak, while the other girls looked at me contemptuously, for theywere enraged at the place being taken; while the proud favourite caressedme with an air of triumph which became her to admiration. 

In the evening I found a good supper awaiting me, a large brazier on thehearth, and a warm coverlet on the bed. The mother shewed me all thethings her daughter had bought, and complained that she had not got anyclothes for her brother. I made her happy by giving her a few louis. 

When I went to bed I did not find my mistress in any amorous transports, but in a wanton and merry mood. She made me laugh, and as she let me doas I liked I was satisfied. I gave her a watch when I left her, andpromised to sup with her on the following night. She was to have dancedthe pas de deux, and I went to see her do it, but to my astonishment sheonly danced with the other girls. 

When I went to supper I found her in despair. She wept and said that Imust avenge her on the Jew, who had excused himself by putting the faulton somebody else, but that he was a liar. I promised everything to quiether, and after spending several hours in her company I returned home, determined to give the Jew a bad quarter of an hour. Next morning I sentCosta to ask him to call on me, but the rascal sent back word that he wasnot coming, and if the Corticelli did not like his theatre she might tryanother. 

I was indignant, but I knew that I must dissemble, so I only laughed. Nevertheless, I had pronounced his doom, for an Italian never forgets toavenge himself on his enemy; he knows it is the pleasure of the gods. 

As soon as Costa had left the room, I called Le Duc and told him thestory, saying that if I did not take vengeance I should be dishonoured, and that it was only he who could procure the scoundrel a good thrashingfor daring to insult me. 

"But you know, Le Duc, the affair must be kept secret. "

"I only want twenty-four hours to give you an answer. "

I knew what he meant, and I was satisfied. 

Next morning Le Duc told me he had spent the previous day in learning theJew's abode and habits, without asking anybody any questions. 

"To-day I will not let him go out of my sight. I shall find out at whathour he returns home, and to-morrow you shall know the results. "

"Be discreet, " said I, "and don't let anybody into your plans. "

"Not I!"

Next day, he told me that if the Jew came home at the same time and bythe same way as before, he would have a thrashing before he got to bed. 

"Whom have you chosen for this expedition?"

"Myself. These affairs ought to be kept secret, and a secret oughtn't tobe known to more than two people. I am sure that everything will turn outwell, but when you are satisfied that the ass's hide has been welltanned, will there be anything to be picked up?"

"Twenty-five sequins. "

"That will do nicely. When I have done the trick I shall put on my greatcoat again and return by the back door. If necessary Costa himself willbe able to swear that I did not leave the house, and that therefore Icannot have committed the assault. However, I shall put my pistols in mypocket in case of accidents, and if anybody tries to arrest me I shallknow how to defend myself. "

Next morning he came coolly into my room while Costa was putting on mydressing-gown, and when we were alone he said, --

"The thing's done. Instead of the Jew's running away when he received thefirst blow he threw himself on to the ground. Then I tanned his skin forhim nicely, but on hearing some people coming up I ran off. I don't knowwhether I did for him, but I gave him two sturdy blows on the head. Ishould be sorry if he were killed, as then he could not see about thedance. "

This jest did not arouse my mirth; the matter promised to be too serious. 

Therese had asked me to dine with the Abbe Gama and M. Sassi, a worthyman, if one may prostitute the name of man to describe a being whomcruelty has separated from the rest of humanity; he was the firstcastrato of the opera. Of course the Jew's mishap was discussed. 

"I am sorry for him, " said I, "though he is a rascally fellow. "

"I am not at all sorry for him myself, " said Sassi, "he's a knave. "

"I daresay that everybody will be putting down his wooden baptism to myaccount. "

"No, " said the abbe, "people say that M. Casanova did the deed for goodreasons of his own. "

"It will be difficult to pitch on the right man, " I answered, "the rascalhas pushed so many worthy people to extremities that he must have a greatmany thrashings owing him. "

The conversation then passed to other topics, and we had a very pleasantdinner. 

In a few days the Jew left his bed with a large plaster on his nose, andalthough I was generally regarded as the author of his misfortune thematter was gradually allowed to drop, as there were only vague suspicionsto go upon. But the Corticelli, in an ecstasy of joy, was stupid enoughto talk as if she were sure it was I who had avenged her, and she gotinto a rage when I would not admit the deed; but, as may be guessed, Iwas not foolish enough to do so, as her imprudence might have been ahanging matter for me. 

I was well enough amused at Florence, and had no thoughts of leaving, when one day Vannini gave me a letter which someone had left for me. Iopened it in his presence, and found it contained a bill of exchange fortwo hundred Florentine crowns on Sasso Sassi. Vannini looked at it andtold me it was a good one. I went into my room to read the letter, and Iwas astonished to find it signed "Charles Ivanoff. " He dated it fromPistoia, and told me that in his poverty and misfortune he had appealedto an Englishman who was leaving Florence for Lucca, and had generouslygiven him a bill of exchange for two hundred crowns, which he had writtenin his presence. It was made payable to bearer. 

"I daren't cash it in Florence, " said he, "as I am afraid of beingarrested for my unfortunate affair at Genoa. I entreat you, then, to havepity on me, to get the bill cashed, and to bring me the money here, thatI may pay my landlord and go. "

It looked like a very simple matter, but I might get into trouble, forthe note might be forged; and even if it were not I should be declaringmyself a friend or a correspondent, at all events, of a man who had beenposted. In this dilemma I took the part of taking the bill of exchange tohim in person. I went to the posting establishment, hired two horses, anddrove to Pistoia. The landlord himself took me to the rascal's room, andleft me alone with him. 

I did not stay more than three minutes, and all I said was that as Sassiknew me I did not wish him to think that there was any kind of connectionbetween us. 

"I advise you, " I said, "to give the bill to your landlord, who will cashit at M. Sassi's and bring you your change. "

"I will follow your advice, " he said, and I therewith returned toFlorence. 

I thought no more of it, but in two days' time I received a visit from M. Sassi and the landlord of the inn at Pistoia. The banker shewed me thebill of exchange, and said that the person who had given it me haddeceived me, as it was not in the writing of the Englishman whose name itbore, and that even if it were, the Englishman not having any money withSassi could not draw a bill of exchange. 

"The inn-keeper here, " said he, "discounted the bill, the Russian hasgone off, and when I told him that it was a forgery he said that he knewCharles Ivanoff had it of you, and that thus he had made no difficulty incashing it; but now he wants you to return him two hundred crowns. "

"Then he will be disappointed!"

I told all the circumstances of the affair to Sassi; I shewed him therascal's letter; I made Dr. Vannini, who had given it me, come up, and hesaid he was ready to swear that he had seen me take the bill of exchangeout of the letter, that he had examined it, and had thought it good. 

On this the banker told the inn-keeper that he had no business to ask meto pay him the money; but he persisted in his demand, and dared to saythat I was an accomplice of the Russian's. 

In my indignation I ran for my cane, but the banker held me by the arm, and the impertinent fellow made his escape without a thrashing. 

"You had a right to be angry, " said M. Sassi, "but you must not take anynotice of what the poor fellow says in his blind rage. "

He shook me by the hand and went out. 

Next day the chief of police, called the auditor at Florence, sent me anote begging me to call on him. There was no room for hesitation, for asa stranger I felt that I might look on this invitation as an intimation. He received me very politely, but he said I should have to repay thelandlord his two hundred crowns, as he would not have discounted the billif he had not seen me bring it. I replied that as a judge he could notcondemn me unless he thought me the Russian's accomplice, but instead ofanswering he repeated that I would have to pay. 

"Sir, " I replied, "I will not pay. "

He rang the bell and bowed, and I left him, walking towards the banker's, to whom I imparted the conversation I had had from the auditor. He wasextremely astonished, and at my request called on him to try and make himlisten to reason. As we parted I told him that I was dining with the AbbeGama. 

When I saw the abbe I told him what had happened, and he uttered a loudexclamation of astonishment. 

"I foresee, " he said, "that the auditor will not let go his hold, and ifM. Sassi does not succeed with him I advise you to speak to MarshalBotta. "

"I don't think that will be necessary; the auditor can't force me topay. "

"He can do worse. "

"What can he do?". 

"He can make you leave Florence. "

"Well, I shall be astonished if he uses his power in this case, butrather than pay I will leave the town. Let us go to the marshal. "

We called on him at four o'clock, and we found the banker there, who hadtold him the whole story. 

"I am sorry to tell you, " said M. Sassi, "that I could do nothing withthe auditor, and if you want to remain in Florence you will have to pay. "

"I will leave as soon as I receive the order, " said I; "and as soon as Ireach another state I will print the history of this shameful perversionof justice. "

"It's an incredible, a monstrous sentence, " said the marshal, "and I amsorry I cannot interfere. You are quite right, " he added, "to leave theplace rather than pay. "

Early the next morning a police official brought me a letter from theauditor, informing me that as he could not, from the nature of the case, oblige me to pay, he was forced to warn me to leave Florence in threedays, and Tuscany in seven. This, he added, he did in virtue of hisoffice; but whenever the Grand Duke, to whom I might appeal, had quashedhis judgment I might return. 

I took a piece of paper and wrote upon it, "Your judgment is aniniquitous one, but it shall be obeyed to the letter. "

At that moment I gave orders to pack up and have all in readiness for mydeparture. I spent three days of respite in amusing myself with Therese. I also saw the worthy Sir Mann, and I promised the Corticelli to fetchher in Lent, and spend some time with her in Bologna. The Abbe Gama didnot leave my side for three days, and shewed himself my true friend. Itwas a kind of triumph for me; on every side I heard regrets at mydeparture, and curses of the auditor. The Marquis Botta seemed to approvemy conduct by giving me a dinner, the table being laid for thirty, andthe company being composed of the most distinguished people in Florence. This was a delicate attention on his part, of which I was very sensible. 

I consecrated the last day to Therese, but I could not find anyopportunity to ask her for a last consoling embrace, which she would nothave refused me under the circumstances, and which I should still fondlyremember. We promised to write often to one another, and we embraced eachother in a way to make her husband's heart ache. Next day I started on myjourney, and got to Rome in thirty-six hours. 

It was midnight when I passed under the Porta del Popolo, for one mayenter the Eternal City at any time. I was then taken to the custom-house, which is always open, and my mails were examined. The only thing they arestrict about at Rome is books, as if they feared the light. I had aboutthirty volumes, all more or less against the Papacy, religion, or thevirtues inculcated thereby. I had resolved to surrender them without anydispute, as I felt tired and wanted to go to bed, but the clerk told mepolitely to count them and leave them in his charge for the night, and hewould bring them to my hotel in the morning. I did so, and he kept hisword. He was well enough pleased when he touched the two sequins withwhich I rewarded him. 

I put up at the Ville de Paris, in the Piazza di Spagna. It is the bestinn in the town. All the world, I found, was drowned in sleep, but whenthey let me in they asked me to wait on the ground floor while a fire waslighted in my room. All the seats were covered with dresses, petticoats, and chemises, and I heard a small feminine voice begging me to sit on herbed. I approached and saw a laughing mouth, and two black eyes shininglike carbuncles. 

"What splendid eyes!" said I, "let me kiss them. "

By way of reply she hid her head under the coverlet, and I slid a hastyhand under the sheets; but finding her quite naked, I drew it back andbegged pardon. She put out her head again, and I thought I read gratitudefor my moderation in her eyes. 

"Who are you, my angel?"

"I am Therese, the inn-keeper's daughter, and this is my sister. " Therewas another girl beside her, whom I had not seen, as her head was underthe bolster. 

"How old are you?"

"Nearly seventeen. "

"I hope I shall see you in my room to-morrow morning. "

"Have you any ladies with you?"

"No. "

"That's a pity, as we never go to the gentlemen's rooms. "

"Lower the coverlet a little; I can't hear what you say. "

"It's too cold. "

"Dear Therese, your eyes make me feel as if I were in flames. "

She put back her head at this, and I grew daring, and after sundryexperiments I was more than ever charmed with her. I caressed her in asomewhat lively manner, and drew back my hand, again apologizing for mydaring, and when she let me see her face I thought I saw delight ratherthan anger in her eyes and on her cheeks, and I felt hopeful with regardto her. I was just going to begin again, for I felt on fire; when ahandsome chambermaid came to tell me that my room was ready and my firelighted. 

"Farewell till to-morrow, " said I to Therese, but she only answered byturning on her side to go to sleep. 

I went to bed after ordering dinner for one o'clock, and I slept tillnoon, dreaming of Therese. When I woke up, Costa told me that he hadfound out where my brother lived, and had left a note at the house. Thiswas my brother Jean, then about thirty, and a pupil of the famous RaphaelMengs. This painter was then deprived of his pension on account of a warwhich obliged the King of Poland to live at Warsaw, as the Prussiansoccupied the whole electorate of Saxe. I had not seen my brother for tenyears, and I kept our meeting as a holiday. I was sitting down to tablewhen he came, and we embraced each other with transport. We spent an hourin telling, he his small adventures, and I my grand ones, and he told methat I should not stay at the hotel, which was too dear, but come andlive at the Chevalier Mengs's house, which contained an empty room, whereI could stay at a much cheaper rate. 

"As to your table, there is a restaurant in the house where one can get acapital meal. "

"Your advice is excellent, " said I, "but I have not the courage to followit, as I am in love with my landlord's daughter;" and I told him what hadhappened the night before. 

"That's a mere nothing, " said he, laughing; "you can cultivate heracquaintance without staying in the house. "

I let myself be persuaded, and I promised to come to him the followingday; and then we proceeded to take a walk about Rome. 

I had many interesting memories of my last visit, and I wanted to renewmy acquaintance with those who had interested me at that happy age whensuch impressions are so durable because they touch the heart rather thanthe mind; but I had to make up my mind to a good many disappointments, considering the space of time that had elapsed since I had been in Rome. 

I went to the Minerva to find Donna Cecilia; she was no more in thisworld. I found out where her daughter Angelica lived, and I went to seeher, but she gave me a poor reception, and said that she really scarcelyremembered me. 

"I can say the same, " I replied, "for you are not the Angelica I used toknow. Good-bye, madam!"

The lapse of time had not improved her personal appearance. I found outalso where the printer's son, who had married Barbaruccia, lived, but--Iput off the pleasure of seeing him till another time, and also my visitto the Reverend Father Georgi, who was a man of great repute in Rome. Gaspar Vivaldi had gone into the country. 

My brother took me to Madame Cherubini. I found her mansion to be asplendid one, and the lady welcomed me in the Roman manner. I thought herpleasant and her daughters still more so, but I thought the crowd oflovers too large and too miscellaneous. There was too much luxury andceremony, and the girls, one of whom was as fair as Love himself, weretoo polite to everybody. An interesting question was put to me, to whichI answered in such a manner as to elicit another question, but to nopurpose. I saw that the rank of my brother, who had introduced me, prevented my being thought a person of any consequence, and on hearing anabbe say, "He's Casanova's brother, " I turned to him and said, --

"That's not correct; you should say Casanova's my brother. "

"That comes to the same thing. "

"Not at all, my dear abbe. "

I said these words in a tone which commanded attention, and another abbesaid, --

"The gentleman is quite right; it does not come to the same thing. "

The first abbe made no reply to this. The one who had taken my part, andwas my friend from that moment, was the famous Winckelmann, who wasunhappily assassinated at Trieste twelve years afterwards. 

While I was talking to him, Cardinal Alexander Albani arrived. Winckelmann presented me to his eminence, who was nearly blind. He talkedto me a great deal, without saying anything worth listening to. As soonas he heard that I was the Casanova who had escaped from The Leads, hesaid in a somewhat rude tone that he wondered I had the hardihood to cometo Rome, where on the slightest hint from the State Inquisitors at Venicean 'ordine sanctissimo' would re-consign me to my prison. I was annoyedby this unseemly remark, and replied in a dignified voice, --

"It is not my hardihood in coming to Rome that your eminence shouldwonder at, but a man of any sense would wonder at the Inquisitors if theyhad the hardihood to issue an 'ordine sanctissimo' against me; for theywould be perplexed to allege any crime in me as a pretext for thusinfamously depriving me of my liberty. "

This reply silenced his eminence. He was ashamed at having taken me for afool, and to see that I thought him one. Shortly after I left and neverset foot in that house again. 

The Abbe Winckelmann went out with my brother and myself, and as he camewith me to my hotel he did me the honour of staying to supper. Winckelmann was the second volume of the celebrated Abbe de Voisenon. Hecalled for me next day, and we went to Villa Albani to see the ChevalierMengs, who was then living there and painting a ceiling. 

My landlord Roland (who knew my brother) paid me a visit at supper. Roland came from Avignon and was fond of good living. I told him I wassorry to be leaving him to stay with my brother, because I had fallen inlove with his daughter Therese, although I had only spoken to her for afew minutes, and had only seen her head. 

"You saw her in bed, I will bet!"

"Exactly, and I should very much like to see the rest of her. Would yoube so kind as to ask her to step up for a few minutes?"

"With all my heart. "

She came upstairs, seeming only too glad to obey her father's summons. She had a lithe, graceful figure, her eyes were of surpassing brilliancy, her features exquisite, her mouth charming; but taken altogether I didnot like her so well as before. In return, my poor brother becameenamoured of her to such an extent that he ended by becoming her slave. He married her next year, and two years afterwards he took her toDresden. I saw her five years later with a pretty baby; but after tenyears of married life she died of consumption. 

I found Mengs at the Villa Albani; he was an indefatigable worker, andextremely original in his conceptions. He welcomed me, and said he wasglad to be able to lodge me at his house in Rome, and that he hoped toreturn home himself in a few days, with his whole family. 

I was astonished with the Villa Albani. It had been built by CardinalAlexander, and had been wholly constructed from antique materials tosatisfy the cardinal's love for classic art; not only the statues and thevases, but the columns, the pedestals--in fact, everything was Greek. Hewas a Greek himself, and had a perfect knowledge of antique work, and hadcontrived to spend comparatively little money compared with themasterpiece he had produced. If a sovereign monarch had had a villa likethe cardinal's built, it would have cost him fifty million francs, butthe cardinal made a much cheaper bargain. 

As he could not get any ancient ceilings, he was obliged to have thempainted, and Mengs was undoubtedly the greatest and the most laboriouspainter of his age. It is a great pity that death carried him off in themidst of his career, as otherwise he would have enriched the stores ofart with numerous masterpieces. My brother never did anything to justifyhis title of pupil of this great artist. When I come to my visit to Spainin 1767, I shall have some more to say about Mengs. 

As soon as I was settled with my brother I hired a carriage, a coachman, and a footman, whom I put into fancy livery, and I called on MonsignorCornaro, auditor of the 'rota', with the intention of making my way intogood society, but fearing lest he as a Venetian might get compromised, heintroduced me to Cardinal Passionei, who spoke of me to the sovereignpontiff. 

Before I pass on to anything else, I will inform my readers of what tookplace on the occasion of my second visit to this old cardinal, a greatenemy of the Jesuits, a wit, and man of letters.