the memories of casanova 119
"He knows all about it, but, dearest, he is afraid of one thing--he
fears a certain fatal plumpness...."
"On my life, I never thought of that! But, my darling, do you not run
the same risk with him?"
"No, it is impossible."
"I understand you. Then we must be very prudent for the future. I
believe that, nine days before Christmas, the mask is no longer allowed,
and then I shall have to go to your casino by water, otherwise, I might
easily be recognized by the same spy who has already followed me once."
"Yes, that idea proves your prudence, and I can easily, shew you the
place. I hope you will be able to come also during Lent, although we are
told that at that time God wishes us to mortify our senses. Is it not
strange that there is a time during which God wants us to amuse
ourselves almost to frenzy, and another during which, in order to please
Him, we must live in complete abstinence? What is there in common
between a yearly observance and the Deity, and how can the action of the
creature have any influence over the Creator, whom my reason cannot
conceive otherwise than independent? It seems to me that if God had
created man with the power of offending Him, man would be right in doing
everything that is forbidden to him, because the deficiencies of his
organization would be the work of the Creator Himself. How can we
imagine God grieved during Lent?"
"My beloved one, you reason beautifully, but will you tell me where you
have managed, in a convent, to pass the Rubicon?"
"Yes. My friend has given me some good books which I have read with deep
attention, and the light of truth has dispelled the darkness which
blinded my eyes. I can assure you that, when I look in my own heart, I
find myself more fortunate in having met with a person who has brought
light to my mind than miserable at having taken the veil; for the
greatest happiness must certainly consist in living and in dying
peacefully--a happiness which can hardly be obtained by listening to all
the idle talk with which the priests puzzle our brains."
"I am of your opinion, but I admire you, for it ought to be the work of
more than a few months to bring light to a mind prejudiced as yours
was."
"There is no doubt that I should have seen light much sooner if I had
not laboured under so many prejudices. There was in my mind a curtain
dividing truth from error, and reason alone could draw it aside, but
that poor reason--I had been taught to fear it, to repulse it, as if its
bright flame would have devoured, instead of enlightening me. The moment
it was proved to me that a reasonable being ought to be guided only by
his own inductions I acknowledged the sway of reason, and the mist which
hid truth from me was dispelled. The evidence of truth shone before my
eyes, nonsensical trifles disappeared, and I have no fear of their
resuming their influence over my mind, for every day it is getting
stronger; and I may say that I only began to love God when my mind was
disabused of priestly superstitions concerning Him."
"I congratulate you; you have been more fortunate than I, for you have
made more progress in one year than I have made in ten."
"Then you did not begin by reading the writings of Lord Bolingbroke?
Five or six months ago, I was reading La Sagesse, by Charron, and
somehow or other my confessor heard of it; when I went to him for
confession, he took upon himself to tell me to give up reading that
book. I answered that my conscience did not reproach me, and that I
could not obey him. 'In that case,' replied he, 'I will not give you
absolution.' 'That will not prevent me from taking the communion,' I
said. This made him angry, and, in order to know what he ought to do, he
applied to Bishop Diedo. His eminence came to see me, and told me that I
ought to be guided by my confessor. I answered that we had mutual duties
to perform, and that the mission of a priest in the confessional was to
listen to me, to impose a reasonable penance, and to give me absolution;
that he had not even the right of offering me any advice if I did not
ask for it. I added that the confessor being bound to avoid scandal, if
he dared to refuse me the absolution, which, of course, he could do, I
would all the same go to the altar with the other nuns. The bishop,
seeing that he was at his wit's end, told the priest to abandon me to my
conscience. But that was not satisfactory to me, and my lover obtained a
brief from the Pope authorizing me to go to confession to any priest I
like. All the sisters are jealous of the privilege, but I have availed
myself of it only once, for the sake of establishing a precedent and of
strengthening the right by the fact, for it is not worth the trouble. I
always confess to the same priest, and he has no difficulty in giving me
absolution, for I only tell him what I like."
"And for the rest you absolve yourself?"
"I confess to God, who alone can know my thoughts and judge the degree
of merit or of demerit to be attached to my actions."
Our conversation shewed me that my lovely friend was what is called a
Free-thinker; but I was not astonished at it, because she felt a greater
need of peace for her conscience than of gratification for her senses.
On the Sunday, after dinner, I took a two-oared gondola, and went round
the island of Muran to reconnoitre the shore, and to discover the small
door through which my mistress escaped from the convent. I lost my
trouble and my time, for I did not become acquainted with the shore till
the octave of Christmas, and with the small door six months afterwards.
I shall mention the circumstance in its proper place.
As soon as it was time, I repaired to the temple, and while I was
waiting for the idol I amused myself in examining the books of a small
library in the boudoir. They were not numerous, but they were well
chosen and worthy of the place. I found there everything that has been
written against religion, and all the works of the most voluptuous
writers on pleasure; attractive books, the incendiary style of which
compels the reader to seek the reality of the image they represent.
Several folios, richly bound, contained nothing but erotic engravings.
Their principal merit consisted much more in the beauty of the designs,
in the finish of the work, than in the lubricity of the positions. I
found amongst them the prints of the Portier des Chartreux, published in
England; the engravings of Meursius, of Aloysia Sigea Toletana, and
others, all very beautifully done. A great many small pictures covered
the walls of the boudoir, and they were all masterpieces in the same
style as the engravings.
I had spent an hour in examining all these works of art, the sight of
which had excited me in the most irresistible manner, when I saw my
beautiful mistress enter the room, dressed as a nun. Her appearance was
not likely to act as a sedative, and therefore, without losing any time
in compliments, I said to her,
"You arrive most opportunely. All these erotic pictures have fired my
imagination, and it is in your garb of a saint that you must administer
the remedy that my love requires."
"Let me put on another dress, darling, it will not take more than five
minutes."
"Five minutes will complete my happiness, and then you can attend to
your metamorphosis."
"But let me take off these woollen robes, which I dislike."
"No; I want you to receive the homage of my love in the same dress which
you had on when you gave birth to it."
She uttered in the humblest manner a 'fiat voluntas tua', accompanied by
the most voluptuous smile, and sank on the sofa. For one instant we
forgot all the world besides. After that delightful ecstacy I assisted
her to undress, and a simple gown of Indian muslin soon metamorphosed my
lovely nun into a beautiful nymph.
After an excellent supper, we agreed not to meet again till the first
day of the octave. She gave me the key of the gate on the shore, and
told me that a blue ribbon attached to the window over the door would
point it out by day, so as to prevent my making a mistake at night. I
made her very happy by telling her that I would come and reside in her
casino until the return of her friend. During the ten days that I
remained there, I saw her four times, and I convinced her that I lived
only for her.
During my stay in the casino I amused myself in reading, in writing to
C---- C----, but my love for her had become a calm affection. The lines
which interested me most in her letters were those in which she
mentioned her friend. She often blamed me for not having cultivated the
acquaintance of M---- M----, and my answer was that I had not done so
for fear of being known. I always insisted upon the necessity of
discretion.
I do not believe in the possibility of equal love being bestowed upon
two persons at the same time, nor do I believe it possible to keep love
to a high degree of intensity if you give it either too much food or
none at all. That which maintained my passion for M---- M ---- in a
state of great vigour was that I could never possess her without running
the risk of losing her.
"It is impossible," I said to her once, "that some time or other one of
the nuns should not want to speak to you when you are absent?"
"No," she answered, "that cannot happen, because there is nothing more
religiously respected in a convent than the right of a nun to deny
herself, even to the abbess. A fire is the only circumstance I have to
fear, because in that case there would be general uproar and confusion,
and it would not appear natural that a nun should remain quietly locked
up in her cell in the midst of such danger; my escape would then be
discovered. I have contrived to gain over the lay-sister and the
gardener, as well as another nun, and that miracle was performed by my cunning assisted by my lover's gold.
댓글 없음:
댓글 쓰기