the memories of casanova 121
"Yes, and therefore I do not offer my sacrifices to appease you, but to
excite you. You shall feel all through the night the ardour of my
devotion."
"You will not find me insensible to your offerings."
"I would begin them at once, but I think that, in order to insure their
efficiency, we ought to have supper first. I have taken nothing to-day
but a cup of chocolate and a salad of whites of eggs dressed with oil
from Lucca and Marseilles vinegar."
"But, dearest, it is folly! you must be ill?"
"Yes, I am just now, but I shall be all right when I have distilled the
whites of eggs, one by one, into your amorous soul."
"I did not think you required any such stimulants."
"Who could want any with you? But I have a rational fear, for if I
happened to prime without being able to fire, I would blow my brains
out."
"My dear browny, it would certainly be a misfortune, but there would be
no occasion to be in despair on that account."
"You think that I would only have to prime again."
"Of course."
While we were bantering in this edifying fashion, the table had been
laid, and we sat down to supper. She ate for two and I for four, our
excellent appetite being excited by the delicate cheer. A sumptuous
dessert was served in splendid silver-gilt plate, similar to the two
candlesticks which held four wax candles each. Seeing that I admired
them, she said:
"They are a present from my friend."
"It is a magnificent present, has he given you the snuffers likewise?"
"No"
"It is a proof that your friend is a great nobleman."
"How so?"
"Because great lords have no idea of snuffing the candle."
"Our candles have wicks which never require that operation."
"Good! Tell me who has taught you French."
"Old La Forest. I have been his pupil for six years. He has also taught
me to write poetry, but you know a great many words which I never heard
from him, such as 'a gogo, frustratoire, rater, dorloter'. Who taught
you these words?"
"The good company in Paris, and women particularly."
We made some punch, and amused ourselves in eating oysters after the
voluptuous fashion of lovers. We sucked them in, one by one, after
placing them on the other's tongue. Voluptuous reader, try it, and tell
me whether it is not the nectar of the gods!
At last, joking was over, and I reminded her that we had to think of
more substantial pleasures. "Wait here," she said, "I am going to change
my dress. I shall be back in one minute." Left alone, and not knowing
what to do, I looked in the drawers of her writing-table. I did not
touch the letters, but finding a box full of certain preservative
sheaths against the fatal and dreaded plumpness, I emptied it, and I
placed in it the following lines instead of the stolen goods:
'Enfants de L'Amitie, ministres de la Peur, Je suis l'Amour, tremblez,
respectez le voleur! Et toi, femme de Dieu, ne crains pas d'etre mere;
Car si to le deviens, Dieu seal sera le pere. S'iL est dit cependant que
tu veux le barren, Parle; je suis tout pret, je me ferai chatrer.'
My mistress soon returned, dressed like a nymph. A gown of Indian
muslin, embroidered with gold lilies, spewed to admiration the outline
of her voluptuous form, and her fine lace-cap was worthy of a queen. I
threw myself at her feet, entreating her not to delay my happiness any
longer.
"Control your ardour a few moments," she said, "here is the altar, and
in a few minutes the victim will be in your arms."
"You will see," she added, going to her writing-table, "how far the
delicacy and the kind attention of my friend can extend."
She took the box and opened it, but instead of the pretty sheaths that
she expected to see, she found my poetry. After reading it aloud, she
called me a thief, and smothering me with kisses she entreated me to
give her back what I had stolen, but I pretended not to understand. She
then read the lines again, considered for one moment, and under pretence
of getting a better pen, she left the room, saying,
"I am going to pay you in your own coin."
She came back after a few minutes and wrote the following six lines:
'Sans rien oter au plaisir amoureux, L'objet de ton larcin sert a
combier nos voeux. A l'abri du danger, mon ame satisfaite Savoure en
surete parfaite; Et si tu veux jauer avec securite, Rends-moi mon doux
ami, ces dons de l'amitie.
After this I could not resist any longer, and I gave her back those
objects so precious to a nun who wants to sacrifice on the altar of
Venus.
The clock striking twelve, I shewed her the principal actor who was
longing to perform, and she arranged the sofa, saying that the alcove
being too cold we had better sleep on it. But the true reason was that,
to satisfy the curious lover, it was necessary for us to be seen.
Dear reader, a picture must have shades, and there is nothing, no matter
how beautiful in one point of view, that does not require to be
sometimes veiled if you look at it from a different one. In order to
paint the diversified scene which took place between me and my lovely
mistress until the dawn of day, I should have to use all the colours of
Aretino's palette. I was ardent and full of vigour, but I had to deal
with a strong partner, and in the morning, after the last exploit, we
were positively worn out; so much so that my charming nun felt some
anxiety on my account. It is true that she had seen my blood spurt out
and cover her bosom during my last offering; and as she did not suspect
the true cause of that phenomenon, she turned pale with fright. I
allayed her anxiety by a thousand follies which made her laugh heartily.
I washed her splendid bosom with rosewater, so as to purify it from the
blood by which it had been dyed for the first time. She expressed a fear
that she had swallowed a few drops, but I told her that it was of no
consequence, even if were the case. She resumed the costume of a nun,
and entreating me to lie down and to write to her before returning to
Venice, so as to let her know how I was, she left the casino.
I had no difficulty in obeying her, for I was truly in great need of
rest. I slept until evening. As soon as I awoke, I wrote to her that my
health was excellent, and that I felt quite inclined to begin our
delightful contest all over again. I asked her to let me know how she
was herself, and after I had dispatched my letter I returned to Venice.
CHAPTER XIX
I Give My Portrait to M. M.--A Present From Her--I Go to the Opera With
Her--She Plays At the Faro Table and Replenishes My Empty Purse--
Philosophical Conversation With M. M.--A Letter From C. C.--She Knows
All--A Ball At the Convent; My Exploits In the Character of Pierrot--C.
C. Comes to the Casino Instead of M. M.--I Spend the Night With Her In A
Very Silly Way.
My dear M---- M---- had expressed a wish to have my portrait, something
like the one I had given to C---- C----, only larger, to wear it as a
locket. The outside was to represent some saint, and an invisible spring
was to remove the sainted picture and expose my likeness. I called upon
the artist who had painted the other miniature for me, and in three
sittings I had what I wanted. He afterwards made me an Annunciation, in
which the angel Gabriel was transformed into a dark-haired saint, and
the Holy Virgin into a beautiful, light-complexioned woman holding her
arms towards the angel. The celebrated painter Mengs imitated that idea
in the picture of the Annunciation which he painted in Madrid twelve
years afterwards, but I do not know whether he had the same reasons for
it as my painter. That allegory was exactly of the same size as my
portrait, and the jeweller who made the locket arranged it in such a
manner that no one could suppose the sacred image to be there only for
the sake of hiding a profane likeness.
The end of January, 1754, before going to the casino, I called upon
Laura to give her a letter for C---- C----, and she handed me one from
her which amused me. My beautiful nun had initiated that young girl, not
only into the mysteries of Sappho, but also in high metaphysics, and C--
-- C---- had consequently become a Freethinker. She wrote to me that,
objecting to give an account of her affairs to her confessor, and yet
not wishing to tell him falsehoods, she had made up her mind to tell him
nothing.
"He has remarked," she added, "that perhaps I do not confess anything to
him because I did not examine my conscience sufficiently, and I answered
him that I had nothing to say, but that if he liked I would commit a few
sins for the purpose of having something to tell him in confession."
I thought this reply worthy of a thorough sophist, and laughed heartily.
On the same day I received the following letter from my adorable nun "I
write to you from my bed, dearest browny, because I cannot remain
standing on my feet. I am almost dead. But I am not anxious about it; a
little rest will make me all right, for I eat well and sleep soundly.
You have made me very happy by writing to me that your bleeding has not
had any evil consequences, and I give you fair notice that I shall have
the proof of it on Twelfth Night, at least if you like; that is
understood, and you will let me know. In case you should feel disposed
to grant me that favour, my darling, I wish to go to the opera. At all
events, recollect that I positively forbid the whites of eggs for the
future, for I would rather have a little less enjoyment and more
security respecting your health. In future, when you go to the casino of
Muran, please to enquire whether there is anybody there, and if you
receive an affirmative answer, go away. My friend will do the same. In
that manner you will not run the risk of meeting one another, but you
need not observe these precautions for long, if you wish, for my friend
is extremely fond of you, and has a great desire to make your acquaintance
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