On the third day I saw plainly that Marina wished to make a conquest of
her colleague, and feeling what great advantage might accrue to her from
it I resolved on helping her. She had a post-chaise for two persons, and
I easily persuaded her to take Baletti with her, saying that I wished to
arrive alone in Mantua for several reasons which I could not confide to
her. The fact was that if I had arrived with her, people would have
naturally supposed that I was her lover, and I wished to avoid that.
Baletti was delighted with the proposal; he insisted upon paying his
share of the expenses, but Marina would not hear of it. The reasons
alleged by the young man for paying his own expenses were excellent
ones, and it was with great difficulty that I prevailed upon him to
accept Marina's offer, but I ultimately succeeded. I promised to wait
for them on the road, so as to take dinner and supper together, and on
the day appointed for our departure I left Milan one hour before them.
Reaching the city of Cremona very early, where we intended to sleep, I
took a walk about the streets, and, finding a coffee-house, I went in. I
made there the acquaintance of a French officer, and we left the coffee-
room together to take a short ramble. A very pretty woman happened to
pass in a carriage, and my companion stopped her to say a few words.
Their conversation was soon over, and the officer joined me again.
"Who is that lovely lady?" I enquired.
"She is a truly charming woman, and I can tell you an anecdote about her
worthy of being transmitted to posterity. You need not suppose that I am
going to exaggerate, for the adventure is known to everybody in Cremona.
The charming woman whom you have just seen is gifted with wit greater
even than her beauty, and here is a specimen of it. A young officer, one
amongst many military men who were courting her, when Marshal de
Richelieu was commanding in Genoa, boasted of being treated by her with
more favour than all the others, and one day, in the very coffee-room
where we met, he advised a brother officer not to lose his time in
courting her, because he had no chance whatever of obtaining any favour.
"'My dear fellow,' said the other officer, 'I have a much better right
to give you that piece of advice; for I have already obtained from her
everything which can be granted to a lover.'
"'I am certain that you are telling a lie,' exclaimed the young man,
'and I request you to follow me out.'
"'Most willingly,' said the indiscreet swain, 'but what is the good of
ascertaining the truth through a duel and of cutting our throats, when I
can make the lady herself certify the fact in your presence.'
"'I bet twenty-five louis that it is all untrue,' said the incredulous
officer.
"'I accept your bet. Let us go.'
"The two contending parties proceeded together towards the dwelling of
the lady whom you saw just now, who was to name the winner of the
twenty-five louis.
"They found her in her dressing-room. 'Well gentlemen,' she said, 'what
lucky wind has brought you here together at this hour?
"'It is a bet, madam,' answered the unbelieving officer, 'and you alone
can be the umpire in our quarrel. This gentleman has been boasting of
having obtained from you everything a woman can grant to the most
favoured lover. I have given him the lie in the most impressive manner,
and a duel was to ensue, when he offered to have the truth of his boast
certified by you. I have bet twenty-five Louis that you would not admit
it, and he has taken my bet. Now, madam, you can say which of us two is
right.'
"You have lost, sir," she said to him; 'but now I beg both of you to
quit my house, and I give you fair warning that if you ever dare to shew
your faces here again, you will be sorry for it.'
"The two heedless fellows went away dreadfully mortified. The unbeliever
paid the bet, but he was deeply vexed, called the other a coxcomb, and a
week afterwards killed him in a duel.
"Since that time the lady goes to the casino, and continues to mix in
society, but does not see company at her own house, and lives in perfect
accord with her husband."
"How did the husband take it all?"
"Quite well, and like an intelligent, sensible man. He said that, if his
wife had acted differently, he would have applied for a divorce, because
in that case no one would have entertained a doubt of her being guilty."
"That husband is indeed a sensible fellow. It is certain that, if his
wife had given the lie to the indiscreet officer, he would have paid the
bet, but he would have stood by what he had said, and everybody would
have believed him. By declaring him the winner of the bet she has cut
the matter short, and she has avoided a judgment by which she would have
been dishonoured. The inconsiderate boaster was guilty of a double
mistake for which he paid the penalty of his life, but his adversary was
as much wanting in delicacy, for in such matters rightly-minded men do
not venture upon betting. If the one who says yes is imprudent, the one
who says no is a dupe. I like the lady's presence of mind."
"But what sentence would you pass on her. Guilty or not guilty?"
"Not guilty."
"I am of the same opinion, and it has been the verdict of the public
likewise, for she has since been treated even better than before the
affair. You will see, if you go to the casino, and I shall be happy to
introduce you to her."
I invited the officer to sup with us, and we spent a very pleasant
evening. After he had gone, I remarked with pleasure that Marina was
capable of observing the rules of propriety. She had taken a bedroom to
herself, so as not to hurt the feelings of her respectable fellow-
dancer.
When I arrived in Mantua, I put up at St. Mark's hotel. Marina, to whom
I had given a notice that my intention was to call on her but seldom,
took up her abode in the house assigned to her by the theatrical
manager.
In the afternoon of the same day, as I was walking about, I went into a
bookseller's shop to ascertain whether there was any new work out. I
remained there without perceiving that the night had come, and on being
told that the shop was going to be closed, I went out. I had only gone a
few yards when I was arrested by a patrol, the officer of which told me
that, as I had no lantern and as eight o'clock had struck, his duty was
to take me to the guardhouse. It was in vain that I observed that,
having arrived only in the afternoon, I could not know that order of the
police. I was compelled to follow him.
When we reached the guardhouse, the officer of the patrol introduced me
to his captain, a tall, fine-looking young man who received me in the
most cheerful manner. I begged him to let me return to my hotel as I
needed rest after my journey. He laughed and answered, "No, indeed, I
want you to spend a joyous night with me, and in good company." He told
the officer to give me back my sword, and, addressing me again, he said,
"I only consider you, my dear sir, as my friend and guest."
I could not help being amused at such a novel mode of invitation, and I
accepted it. He gave some orders to a German soldier, and soon
afterwards the table was laid out for four persons. The two other
officers joined us, and we had a very gay supper. When the desert had
been served the company was increased by the arrival of two disgusting,
dissolute females. A green cloth was spread over the table, and one of
the officers began a faro bank. I punted so as not to appear unwilling
to join the game, and after losing a few sequins I went out to breathe
the fresh air, for we had drunk freely. One of the two females followed
me, teased me, and finally contrived, in spite of myself, to make me a
present which condemned me to a regimen of six weeks. After that fine
exploit, I went in again.
A young and pleasant officer, who had lost some fifteen or twenty
sequins, was swearing like a trooper because the banker had pocketed his
money and was going. The young officer had a great deal of gold before
him on the table, and he contended that the banker ought to have warned
him that it would be the last game.
"Sir," I said to him, politely, "you are in the wrong, for faro is the
freest of games. Why do you not take the bank yourself?"
"It would be too much trouble, and these gentlemen do not punt high
enough for me, but if that sort of thing amuses you, take the bank and I
will punt."
"Captain," I said, "will you take a fourth share in my bank?"
"Willingly."
"Gentlemen, I beg you to give notice that I will lay the cards down
after six games."
I asked for new packs of cards, and put three hundred sequins on the
table. The captain wrote on the back of a card, "Good for a hundred
sequins, O'Neilan," and placing it with my gold I began my bank.
The young officer was delighted, and said to me,
"Your bank might be defunct before the end of the sixth game."
I did not answer, and the play went on.
At the beginning of the fifth game, my bank was in the pangs of death;
the young officer was in high glee. I rather astonished him by telling
him that I was glad to lose, for I thought him a much more agreeable
companion when he was winning.
There are some civilities which very likely prove unlucky for those to
whom they are addressed, and it turned out so in this case, for my
compliment turned his brain. During the fifth game, a run of adverse
cards made him lose all he had won, and as he tried to do violence to
Dame Fortune in the sixth round, he lost every sequin he had.
"Sir," he said to me, "you have been very lucky, but I hope you will
give me my revenge to-morrow."
"It would be with the greatest pleasure, sir, but I never play except
when I am under arrest."
I counted my money, and found that I had wan two hundred and fifty
sequins, besides a debt of fifty sequins due by an officer who played on
trust which Captain O'Neilan took on his own account. I completed his
share, and at day-break he allowed me to go away.
As soon as I got to my hotel, I went to bed, and when I awoke, I had a
visit from Captain Laurent, the officer who had played on trust.
Thinking that his object was to pay me what he had lost, I told him that
O'Neilan had taken his debt on himself, but he answered than he had only
called for the purpose of begging of me a loan of six sequins on his
note of hand, by which he would pledge his honour to repay me within one
week. I gave him the money, and he begged that the matter, might remain
between us.
"I promise it," I said to him, "but do not break your word."
The next day I was ill, and the reader is aware of the nature of my
illness. I immediately placed myself under a proper course of diet,
however unpleasant it was at my age; but I kept to my system, and it
cured me rapidly.
Three or four days afterwards Captain O'Neilan called on me, and when I
told him the nature of my sickness he laughed, much to my surprise.
"Then you were all right before that night?" he enquired.
"Yes, my health was excellent."
"I am sorry that you should have lost your health in such an ugly place.
I would have warned you if I had thought you had any intentions in that
quarter."
"Did you know of the woman having . . . ?"
"Zounds! Did I not? It is only a week since I paid a visit to the very
same place myself, and I believe the creature was all right before my
visit."
"Then I have to thank you for the present she has bestowed upon me."
"Most likely; but it is only a trifle, and you can easily get cured if
you care to take the trouble."
"What! Do you not try to cure yourself?"
"Faith, no. It would be too much trouble to follow a regular diet, and
what is the use of curing such a trifling inconvenience when I am
certain of getting it again in a fortnight. Ten times in my life I have
had that patience, but I got tired of it, and for the last two years I
have resigned myself, and now I put up with it."
"I pity you, for a man like you would have great success in love."
"I do not care a fig for love; it requires cares which would bother me
much more than the slight inconvenience to which we were alluding, and
to which I am used now."
"I am not of your opinion, for the amorous pleasure is insipid when love
does not throw a little spice in it. Do you think, for instance, that
the ugly wretch I met at the guard-room is worth what I now suffer on
her account?"
"Of course not, and that is why I am sorry for you. If I had known, I
could have introduced you to something better."
"The very best in that line is not worth my health, and health ought to
be sacrificed only for love."
"Oh! you want women worthy of love? There are a few here; stop with us
for some time, and when you are cured there is nothing to prevent you
from making conquests."
O'Neilan was only twenty-three years old; his father, who was dead, had
been a general, and the beautiful Countess Borsati was his sister. He
presented me to the Countess Zanardi Nerli, still more lovely than his
sister, but I was prudent enough not to burn my incense before either of
them, for it seemed to me that everybody could guess the state of my
health.
I have never met a young man more addicted to debauchery than O'Neilan.
I have often spent the night rambling about with him, and I was amazed
at his cynical boldness and impudence. Yet he was noble, generous,
brave, and honourable. If in those days young officers were often guilty
of so much immorality, of so many vile actions, it was not so much their
fault as the fault of the privileges which they enjoyed through custom,
indulgence, or party spirit. Here is an example:
One day O'Neilan, having drunk rather freely, rides through the city at
full speed. A poor old woman who was crossing the street has no time to
avoid him, she falls, and her head is cut open by the horse's feet.
O'Neilan places himself under arrest, but the next day he is set at
liberty. He had, only to plead that it was an accident.
The officer Laurent not having called upon me to redeem his promisory
note of six sequins during the week, I told him in the street that I
would no longer consider myself bound to keep the affair secret. Instead
of excusing himself, he said,
"I do not care!"
The answer was insulting, and I intended to compel him to give me
reparation, but the next day O'Neilan told me that Captain Laurent had
gone mad and had been locked up in a mad-house. He subsequently
recovered his reason, but his conduct was so infamous that he was
cashiered.
O'Neilan, who was as brave as Bayard, was killed a few years afterwards
at the battle of Prague. A man of his complexion was certain to fall the
victim of Mars or of Venus. He might be alive now if he had been endowed
only with the courage of the fox, but he had the courage of the lion. It
is a virtue in a soldier, but almost a fault in an officer. Those who
brave danger with a full knowledge of it are worthy of praise, but those
who do not realize it escape only by a miracle, and without any merit
attaching itself to them. Yet we must respect those great warriors, for
their unconquerable courage is the offspring of a strong soul, of a
virtue which places them above ordinary mortals.
Whenever I think of Prince Charles de Ligne I cannot restrain my tears.
He was as brave as Achilles, but Achilles was invulnerable. He would be
alive now if he had remembered during the fight that he was mortal. Who
are they that, having known him, have not shed tears in his memory? He
was handsome, kind, polished, learned, a lover of the arts, cheerful,
witty in his conversation, a pleasant companion, and a man of perfect
equability. Fatal, terrible revolution! A cannon ball took him from his
friends, from his family, from the happiness which surrounded him.
The Prince de Waldeck has also paid the penalty of his intrepidity with
the loss of one arm. It is said that he consoles himself for that loss
with the consciousness that with the remaining one he can yet command an
army.
O you who despise life, tell me whether that contempt of life renders
you worthy of it?
The opera opened immediately after Easter, and I was present at every
performance. I was then entirely cured, and had resumed my usual life. I
was pleased to see that Baletti shewed off Marina to the best advantage.
I never visited her, but Baletti was in the habit of breakfasting with
me almost every morning.
He had often mentioned an old actress who had left the stage for more
than twenty years, and pretended to have been my father's friend. One
day I took a fancy to call upon her, and he accompanied me to her house.
I saw an old, broken-down crone whose toilet astonished me as much as
her person. In spite of her wrinkles, her face was plastered with red
and white, and her eyebrows were indebted to India ink for their black
appearance. She exposed one-half of her flabby, disgusting bosom, and
there could be no doubt as to her false set of teeth. She wore a wig
which fitted very badly, and allowed the intrusion of a few gray hairs
which had survived the havoc of time. Her shaking hands made mine quiver
when she pressed them. She diffused a perfume of amber at a distance of
twenty yards, and her affected, mincing manner amused and sickened me at
the same time. Her dress might possibly have been the fashion twenty
years before. I was looking with dread at the fearful havoc of old age
upon a face which, before merciless time had blighted it, had evidently
been handsome, but what amazed me was the childish effrontery with which
this time-withered specimen of womankind was still waging war with the
help of her blasted charms.
Baletti, who feared lest my too visible astonishment should vex her,
told her that I was amazed at the fact that the beautiful strawberry
which bloomed upon her chest had not been withered by the hand of Time.
It was a birth-mark which was really very much like a strawberry. "It is
that mark," said the old woman, simpering, "which gave me the name of
'La Fragoletta.'"
Those words made me shudder.
I had before my eyes the fatal phantom which was the cause of my
existence. I saw the woman who had thirty years before, seduced my
father: if it had not been for her, he would never have thought of
leaving his father's house, and would never have engendered me in the
womb of a Venetian woman. I have never been of the opinion of the old
author who says, 'Nemo vitam vellet si daretur scientibus'.
Seeing how thoughtful I was, she politely enquired my name from Baletti,
for he had presented me only as a friend, and without having given her
notice of my visit. When he told her that my name was Casanova, she was
extremely surprised.
"Yes, madam," I said, "I am the son of Gaetan Casanova, of Parma."
"Heavens and earth! what is this? Ah! my friend, I adored your father!
He was jealous without cause, and abandoned me. Had he not done so, you
would have been my son! Allow me to embrace you with the feelings of a
loving mother."
I expected as much, and, for fear she should fall, I went to her,
received her kiss, and abandoned myself to her tender recollections.
Still an actress, she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, pretending
to weep, and assuring me that I was not to doubt the truth of what she
said.
"Although," she added, "I do not look an old woman yet."
"The only fault of your dear father," she continued, "was a want of
gratitude."
I have no doubt that she passed the same sentence upon the son, for, in
spite of her kind invitation, I never paid her another visit.
My purse was well filled, and as I did not care for Mantua, I resolved
on going to Naples, to see again my dear Therese, Donna Lucrezia, Palo
father and son, Don Antonio Casanova, and all my former acquaintances.
However, my good genius did not approve of that decision, for I was not
allowed to carry it into execution. I should have left Mantua three days
later, had I not gone to the opera that night.
I lived like an anchorite during my two months' stay in Mantua, owing to
the folly. I committed on the night of my arrival. I played only that
time, and then I had been lucky. My slight erotic inconvenience, by
compelling me to follow the diet necessary to my cure, most likely saved
me from greater misfortunes which, perhaps, I should not have been able
to avoid.
CHAPTER XXI
My Journey to Cesena in Search of Treasure--I Take Up My Quarters in
Franzia's House--His Daughter Javotte
The opera was nearly over when I was accosted by a young man who,
abruptly, and without any introduction, told me that as a stranger--I
had been very wrong in spending two months in Mantua without paying a
visit to the natural history collection belonging to his father, Don
Antonio Capitani, commissary and prebendal president.
"Sir," I answered, "I have been guilty only through ignorance, and if
you would be so good as to call for me at my hotel to-morrow morning,
before the evening I shall have atoned for my error, and you will no
longer have the right to address me the same reproach."
The son of the prebendal commissary called for me, and I found in his
father a most eccentric, whimsical sort of man. The curiosities of his
collection consisted of his family tree, of books of magic, relics,
coins which he believed to be antediluvian, a model of the ark taken
from nature at the time when Noah arrived in that extraordinary harbour,
Mount Ararat, in Armenia. He load several medals, one of Sesostris,
another of Semiramis, and an old knife of a queer shape, covered with
rust. Besides all those wonderful treasures, he possessed, but under
lock and key, all the paraphernalia of freemasonry.
"Pray, tell me," I said to him, "what relation there is between this
collection and natural history? I see nothing here representing the
three kingdoms."
"What! You do not see the antediluvian kingdom, that of Sesostris and
that of Semiramis? Are not those the three kingdoms?"
When I heard that answer I embraced him with an exclamation of delight,
which was sarcastic in its intent, but which he took for admiration, and
he at once unfolded all the treasures of his whimsical knowledge
respecting his possessions, ending with the rusty blade which he said
was the very knife with which Saint Peter cut off the ear of Malek.
"What!" I exclaimed, "you are the possessor of this knife, and you are
not as rich as Croesus?"
"How could I be so through the possession of the knife?"
"In two ways. In the first place, you could obtain possession of all the
treasures hidden under ground in the States of the Church."
"Yes, that is a natural consequence, because St. Peter has the keys."
"In the second place, you might sell the knife to the Pope, if you
happen to possess proof of its authenticity."
"You mean the parchment. Of course I have it; do you think I would have
bought one without the other?"
"All right, then. In order to get possession of that knife, the Pope
would, I have no doubt, make a cardinal of your son, but you must have
the sheath too."
"I have not got it, but it is unnecessary. At all events I can have one
made."
"That would not do, you must have the very one in which Saint Peter
himself sheathed the knife when God said, 'Mitte gladium tuum in
vaginam'. That very sheath does exist, and it is now in the hands of a
person who might sell it to you at a reasonable price, or you might sell
him your knife, for the sheath without the knife is of no use to him,
just as the knife is useless to you without the sheath."
"How much would it cost me?"
"One thousand sequins."
"And how much would that person give me for the knife?"
"One thousand sequins, for one has as much value as the other."
The commissary, greatly astonished, looked at his son, and said, with
the voice of a judge on the bench,
"Well, son, would you ever have thought that I would be offered one
thousand sequins for this knife?"
He then opened a drawer and took out of it an old piece of paper, which
he placed before me. It was written in Hebrew, and a facsimile of the
knife was drawn on it. I pretended to be lost in admiration, and advised
him very strongly to purchase the sheath.
"It is not necessary for me to buy it, or for your friend to purchase
the knife. We can find out and dig up the treasures together."
"Not at all. The rubric says in the most forcible manner that the owner
of the blade, 'in vaginam', shall be one. If the Pope were in possession
of it he would be able, through a magical operation known to me, to cut
off one of the ears of every Christian king who might be thinking of
encroaching upon the rights of the Church."
"Wonderful, indeed! But it is very true, for it is said in the Gospel
that Saint Peter did cut off the ear of somebody."
"Yes, of a king."
"Oh, no! not of a king."
"Of a king, I tell you. Enquire whether Malek or Melek does not mean
king."
"Well! in case I should make up my mind to sell the knife, who would
give me the thousand sequins?"
"I would; one half to-morrow, cash down; the balance of five hundred in
a letter of exchange payable one month after date."
"Ah! that is like business. Be good enough, to accept a dish of macaroni
with us to-morrow, and under a solemn pledge of secrecy we will discuss
this important affair."
I accepted and took my leave, firmly resolved on keeping up the joke. I
came back on the following day, and the very first thing he told me was
that, to his certain knowledge, there was an immense treasure hidden
somewhere in the Papal States, and that he would make up his mind to
purchase the sheath. This satisfied me that there was no fear of his
taking me at my word, so I produced a purse full of gold, saying I was
quite ready to complete our bargain for the purchase of the knife.
"The Treasure," he said, "is worth millions; but let us have dinner. You
are not going to be served in silver plates and dishes, but in real
Raphael mosaic."
"My dear commissary, your magnificence astonishes me; mosaic is, indeed,
by far superior to silver plate, although an ignorant fool would only
consider it ugly earthen ware."
The compliment delighted him.
After dinner, he spoke as follows:
"A man in very good circumstances, residing in the Papal States, and
owner of the country house in which he lives with all his family, is
certain that there is a treasure in his cellar. He has written to my
son, declaring himself ready to undertake all expenses necessary to
possess himself of that treasure, if we could procure a magician
powerful enough to unearth it."
The son then took a letter out of his pocket, read me some passages, and
begged me to excuse him if, in consequence of his having pledged himself
to keep the secret, he could not communicate all the contents of the
letter; but I had, unperceived by him, read the word Cesena, the name of
the village, and that was enough for me.
"Therefore all that is necessary is to give me the possibility of
purchasing the sheath on credit, for I have no ready cash at present.
You need not be afraid of endorsing my letters of exchange, and if you
should know the magician you might go halves with him."
"The magician is ready; it is I, but unless you give me five hundred
sequins cash down we cannot agree."
"I have no money."
"Then sell me the knife:"
"No."
"You are wrong, for now that I have seen it I can easily take it from
you. But I am honest enough not to wish to play such a trick upon you."
"You could take my knife from me? I should like to be convinced of that,
but I do not believe it."
"You do not? Very well, to-morrow the knife will be in my possession,
but when it is once in my hands you need not hope to see it again. A
spirit which is under my orders will bring it to me at midnight, and the
same spirit will tell me where the treasure is buried:"
"Let the spirit tell you that, and I shall be convinced."
"Give me a pen, ink and paper."
I asked a question from my oracle, and the answer I had was that the
treasure was to be found not far from the Rubicon.
"That is," I said, "a torrent which was once a river:"
They consulted a dictionary, and found that the Rubicon flowed through
Cesena. They were amazed, and, as I wished them to have full scope for
wrong reasoning, I left them.
I had taken a fancy, not to purloin five hundred sequins from those poor
fools, but to go and unearth the amount at their expense in the house of
another fool, and to laugh at them all into the bargain. I longed to
play the part of a magician. With that idea, when I left the house of
the ridiculous antiquarian, I proceeded to the public library, where,
with the assistance of a dictionary, I wrote the following specimen of
facetious erudition:
"The treasure is buried in the earth at a depth of seventeen and a half
fathoms, and has been there for six centuries. Its value amounts to two
millions of sequins, enclosed in a casket, the same which was taken by
Godfrey de Bouillon from Mathilda, Countess of Tuscany, in the year
1081, when he endeavoured to assist Henry IV, against that princess. He
buried the box himself in the very spot where it now is, before he went
to lay siege to Jerusalem. Gregory VII, who was a great magician, having
been informed of the place where it had been hidden, had resolved on
getting possession of it himself, but death prevented him from carrying
out his intentions. After the death of the Countess Mathilda, in the
year 1116, the genius presiding over all hidden treasures appointed
seven spirits to guard the box. During a night with a full moon, a
learned magician can raise the treasure to the surface of the earth by
placing himself in the middle of the magical ring called maximus:"
I expected to see the father and son, and they came early in the
morning. After some rambling conversation, I gave them what I had
composed at the library, namely, the history of the treasure taken from
the Countess Mathilda.
I told them that I had made up my mind to recover the treasure, and I
promised them the fourth part of it, provided they would purchase the
sheath; I concluded by threatening again to possess myself of their
knife.
"I cannot decide," said the commissary, "before I have seen the sheath."
"I pledge my word to shew it to you to-morrow," I answered.
We parted company, highly pleased with each other.
In order to manufacture a sheath, such as the wonderful knife required,
it was necessary to combine the most whimsical idea with the oddest
shape. I recollected very well the form of the blade, and, as I was
revolving in my mind the best way to produce something very extravagant
but well adapted to the purpose I had in view, I spied in the yard of
the hotel an old piece of leather, the remnant of what had been a fine
gentleman's boot; it was exactly what I wanted.
I took that old sole, boiled it, and made in it a slit in which I was
certain that the knife would go easily. Then I pared it carefully on all
sides to prevent the possibility of its former use being found out; I
rubbed it with pumice stone, sand, and ochre, and finally I succeeded in
imparting to my production such a queer, old-fashioned shape that I
could not help laughing in looking at my work.
When I presented it to the commissary, and he had found it an exact fit
for the knife, the good man remained astounded. We dined together, and
after dinner it was decided that his son should accompany me, and
introduce me to the master of the house in which the treasure was
buried, that I was to receive a letter of exchange for one thousand
Roman crowns, drawn by the son on Bologna, which would be made payable
to my name only after I should have found the treasure, and that the
knife with the sheath would be delivered into my hands only when I
should require it for the great operation; until then the son was to
retain possession of it.
Those conditions having been agreed upon, we made an agreement in
writing, binding upon all parties, and our departure was fixed for the
day after the morrow.
As we left Mantua, the father pronounced a fervent blessing over his
son's head, and told me that he was count palatine, shewing me the
diploma which he had received from the Pope. I embraced him, giving him
his title of count, and pocketed his letter of exchange.
After bidding adieu to Marina, who was then the acknowledged mistress of
Count Arcorati, and to Baletti whom I was sure of meeting again in
Venice before the end of the year, I went to sup with my friend
O'Neilan.
We started early in the morning, travelled through Ferrara and Bologna,
and reached Cesena, where we put up at the posting-house. We got up
early the next day and walked quietly to the house of George Franzia, a
wealthy peasant, who was owner of the treasure. It was only a quarter of
a mile from the city, and the good man was agreeably surprised by our
arrival. He embraced Capitani, whom he knew already, and leaving me with
his family he went out with my companion to talk business.
Observant as usual, I passed the family in review, and fixed my choice
upon the eldest daughter. The youngest girl was ugly, and the son looked
a regular fool. The mother seemed to be the real master of the
household, and there were three or four servants going about the
premises.
The eldest daughter was called Genevieve, or Javotte, a very common name
among the girls of Cesena. I told her that I thought her eighteen; but
she answered, in a tone half serious, half vexed, that I was very much
mistaken, for she had only just completed her fourteenth year.
"I am very glad it is so, my pretty child."
These words brought back her smile.
The house was well situated, and there was not another dwelling around
it for at least four hundred yards. I was glad to see that I should have
comfortable quarters, but I was annoyed by a very unpleasant stink which
tainted the air, and which could certainly not be agreeable to the
spirits I had to evoke.
"Madame Franzia," said I, to the mistress of the house, "what is the
cause of that bad smell?"
"Sir, it arises from the hemp which we are macerating."
I concluded that if the cause were removed, I should get rid of the
effect.
"What is that hemp worth, madam?" I enquired.
"About forty crowns."
"Here they are; the hemp belongs to me now, and I must beg your husband
to have it removed immediately."
Capitani called me, and I joined him. Franzia shewed me all the respect
due to a great magician, although I had not much the appearance of one.
We agreed that he should receive one-fourth of the treasure, Capitani
another fourth, and that the remainder should belong to me. We certainly
did not shew much respect for the rights of Saint Peter.
I told Franzia that I should require a room with two beds for myself
alone, and an ante-room with bathing apparatus. Capitani's room was to
be in a different part of the house, and my room was to be provided with
three tables, two of them small and one large. I added that he must at
once procure me a sewing-girl between the ages of fourteen and eighteen,
she was to be a virgin, and it was necessary that she should, as well as
every person in the house, keep the secret faithfully, in order that no
suspicion of our proceedings should reach the Inquisition, or all would
be lost.
"I intend to take up my quarters here to-morrow," I added; "I require
two meals every day, and the only wine I can drink is jevese. For my
breakfast I drink a peculiar kind of chocolate which I make myself, and
which I have brought with me. I promise to pay my own expenses in case
we do not succeed. Please remove the hemp to a place sufficiently
distant from the house, so that its bad smell may not annoy the spirits
to be evoked by me, and let the air be purified by the discharge of
gunpowder. Besides, you must send a trusty servant to-morrow to convey
our luggage from the hotel here, and keep constantly in the house and at
my disposal one hundred new wax candles and three torches."
After I had given those instructions to Franzia, I left him, and went
towards Cesena with Capitani, but we had not gone a hundred yards when
we heard the good man running after us.
"Sir," he said to me, "be kind enough to take back the forty crowns
which you paid to my wife for the hemp."
"No, I will not do anything of the sort, for I do not want you to
sustain any loss."
"Take them back, I beg. I can sell the hemp in the course of the day for
forty crowns without difficulty."
"In that case I will, for I have confidence in what you say."
Such proceedings on my part impressed the excellent man very favourably,
and he entertained the deepest veneration for me, which was increased,
when, against Capitani's advice, I resolutely refused one hundred
sequins which he wanted to force upon me for my travelling expenses. I
threw him into raptures by telling him that on the eve of possessing an
immense treasure, it was unnecessary to think of such trifles.
The next morning our luggage was sent for, and we found ourselves
comfortably located in the house of the wealthy and simple Franzia.
He gave us a good dinner, but with too many dishes, and I told him to be
more economical, and to give only some good fish for our supper, which
he did. After supper he told me that, as far as the young maiden was
concerned, he thought he could recommend his daughter Javotte, as he had
consulted his wife, and had found I could rely upon the girl being a
virgin.
"Very good," I said; "now tell me what grounds you have for supposing
that there is a treasure in your house?"
"In the first place, the oral tradition transmitted from father to son
for the last eight generations; in the second, the heavy sounds which
are heard under ground during the night. Besides, the door of the cellar
opens and shuts of itself every three or four minutes; which must
certainly be the work of the devils seen every night wandering through
the country in the shape of pyramidal flames."
"If it is as you say, it is evident that you have a treasure hidden
somewhere in your house; it is as certain as the fact that two and two
are four. Be very careful not to put a lock to the door of the cellar to
prevent its opening and shutting of itself; otherwise you would have an
earthquake, which would destroy everything here. Spirits will enjoy
perfect freedom, and they break through every obstacle raised against
them."
"God be praised for having sent here, forty years ago, a learned man who
told my father exactly the same thing! That great magician required only
three days more to unearth the treasure when my father heard that the
Inquisition had given orders to arrest him, and he lost no time in
insuring his escape. Can you tell me how it is that magicians are not
more powerful than the Inquisitors?"
"Because the monks have a greater number of devils under their command
than we have. But I feel certain that your father had already expended a
great deal of money with that learned man."
"About two thousand crowns."
"Oh! more, more."
I told Franzia to follow me, and, in order to accomplish something in
the magic line, I dipped a towel in some water, and uttering fearful
words which belonged to no human language, I washed the eyes, the
temples, and the chest of every person in the family, including Javotte,
who might have objected to it if I had not begun with her father,
mother, and brother. I made them swear upon my pocket-book that they
were not labouring under any impure disease, and I concluded the
ceremony by compelling Javotte to swear likewise that she had her
maidenhood. As I saw that she was blushing to the very roots of her hair
in taking the oath, I was cruel enough to explain to her what it meant;
I then asked her to swear again, but she answered that there was no need
of it now that she knew what it was. I ordered all the family to kiss
me, and finding that Javotte had eaten garlic I forbade the use of it
entirely, which order Franzia promised should be complied with.
Genevieve was not a beauty as far as her features were concerned; her
complexion was too much sunburnt, and her mouth was too large, but her
teeth were splendid, and her under lip projected slightly as if it had
been formed to receive kisses. Her bosom was well made and as firm as a
rock, but her hair was too light, and her hands too fleshy. The defects,
however, had to be overlooked, and altogether she was not an unpleasant
morsel. I did not purpose to make her fall in love with me; with a
peasant girl that task might have been a long one; all I wanted was to
train her to perfect obedience, which, in default of love, has always
appeared to me the essential point. True that in such a case one does
not enjoy the ecstatic raptures of love, but one finds a compensation in
the complete control obtained over the woman.
I gave notice to the father, to Capitani, and to Javotte, that each
would, in turn and in the order of their age, take supper with me, and
that Javotte would sleep every night in my ante-room, where was to be
placed a bath in which I would bathe my guest one half hour before
sitting down to supper, and the guest was not to have broken his fast
throughout the day.
I prepared a list of all the articles of which I pretended to be in
need, and giving it to Franzia I told him to go to Cesena himself the
next day, and to purchase everything without bargaining to obtain a
lower price. Among other things, I ordered a piece, from twenty to
thirty yards long, of white linen, thread, scissors, needles, storax,
myrrh, sulphur, olive oil, camphor, one ream of paper, pens and ink,
twelve sheets of parchment, brushes, and a branch of olive tree to make
a stick of eighteen inches in length.
After I had given all my orders very seriously and without any wish to
laugh, I went to bed highly pleased with my personification of a
magician, in which I was astonished to find myself so completely
successful.
The next morning, as soon as I was dressed, I sent for Capitani, and
commanded him to proceed every day to Cesena, to go to the best coffee-
house, to learn carefully every piece of news and every rumour, and to
report them to me.
Franzia, who had faithfully obeyed my orders, returned before noon from
the city with all the articles I had asked for.
"I have not bargained for anything," he said to me, "and the merchants
must, I have no doubt, have taken me for a fool, for I have certainly
paid one-third more than the things are worth." "So much the worse for them if they have deceived you, but you would have spoilt everything if you had beaten them down in their price. Now, send me your daughter and let me be alone with her." |
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