the memories of casanova 122

the memories of casanova 122

He has told me that, if he had not seen it with his own

eyes, he never would have believed that a man could run the race that

you ran so splendidly the other night, but he says that, by making love

in that manner, you bid defiance to death, for he is certain that the

blood you lost comes from the brain. But what will he say when he hears

that you only laugh at the occurrence? I am going to make you very

merry: he wants to eat the salad of whites of eggs, and he wants me to

ask you for some of your vinegar, because there is none in Venice. He

said that he spent a delightful night, in spite of his fear of the evil

consequences of our amorous sport, and he has found my own efforts

superior to the usual weakness of my sex. That may be the case, dearest

browny, but I am delighted to have done such wonders, and to have made

such trial of my strength. Without you, darling of my heart, I should

have lived without knowing myself, and I wonder whether it is possible

for nature to create a woman who could remain insensible in your arms,

or rather one who would not receive new life by your side. It is more

than love that I feel for you, it is idolatry; and my mouth, longing to

meet yours, sends forth thousands of kisses which are wasted in the air.

I am panting for your divine portrait, so as to quench by a sweet

illusion the fire which devours my amorous lips. I trust my likeness

will prove equally dear to you, for it seems to me that nature has

created us for one another, and I curse the fatal instant in which I

raised an invincible barrier between us. You will find enclosed the key

of my bureau. Open it, and take a parcel on which you will see written,

'For my darling.' It is a small present which my friend wishes me to

offer you in exchange for the beautiful night-cap that you gave me.

Adieu."

 

The small key enclosed in the letter belonged to a bureau in the

boudoir. Anxious to know the nature of the present that she could offer

me at the instance of her friend, I opened the bureau, and found a

parcel containing a letter and a morocco-leather case.

 

The letter was as follows:

 

"That which will, I hope, render this present dear to you is the

portrait of a woman who adores you. Our friend had two of them, but the

great friendship he entertains towards you has given him the happy idea

of disposing of one in your favour. This box contains two portraits of

me, which are to be seen in two different ways: if you take off the

bottom part, of the case in its length, you will see me as a nun; and if

you press on the corner, the top will open and expose me to your sight

in a state of nature. It is not possible, dearest, that a woman can ever

have loved you as I do. Our friend excites my passion by the flattering

opinion that he entertains of you. I cannot decide whether I am more

fortunate in my friend or in my lover, for I could not imagine any being

superior to either one or the other."

 

The case contained a gold snuff-box, and a small quantity of Spanish

snuff which had been left in it proved that it had been used. I followed

the instructions given in the letter, and I first saw my mistress in the

costume of a nun, standing and in half profile. The second secret spring

brought her before my eyes, entirely naked, lying on a mattress of black

satin, in the position of the Madeleine of Coreggio. She was looking at

Love, who had the quiver at his feet, and was gracefully sitting on the

nun's robes. It was such a beautiful present that I did not think myself

worthy of it. I wrote to M---- M---- a letter in which the deepest

gratitude was blended with the most exalted love. The drawers of the

bureau contained all her diamonds and four purses full of sequins. I

admired her noble confidence in me. I locked the bureau, leaving

everything undisturbed, and returned to Venice. If I had been able to

escape out of the capricious clutches of fortune by giving up gambling,

my happiness would have been complete.

 

My own portrait was set with rare perfection, and as it was arranged to

be worn round the neck I attached it to six yards of Venetian chain,

which made it a very handsome present. The secret was in the ring to

which it was suspended, and it was very difficult to discover it. To

make the spring work and expose my likeness it was necessary to pull the

ring with some force and in a peculiar manner. Otherwise, nothing could

be seen but the Annunciation; and it was then a beautiful ornament for a

nun.

 

On Twelfth Night, having the locket and chain in my pocket, I went early

in the evening to watch near the fine statue erected to the hero

Colleoni after he had been poisoned, if history does not deceive us.

'Sit divus, modo non vivus', is a sentence from the enlightened monarch,

which will last as long as there are monarchs on earth.

 

At six o'clock precisely my mistress alighted from the gondola, well

dressed and well masked, but this time in the garb of a woman. We went

to the Saint Samuel opera, and after the second ballet we repaired to

the 'ridotto', where she amused herself by looking at all the ladies of

the nobility who alone had the right to walk about without masks. After

rambling about for half an hour, we entered the hall where the bank was

held. She stopped before the table of M. Mocenigo, who at that time was

the best amongst all the noble gamblers. As nobody was playing, he was

carelessly whispering to a masked lady, whom I recognized as Madame

Marina Pitani, whose adorer he was.

 

M---- M---- enquired whether I wanted to play, and as I answered in the

negative she said to me,

 

"I take you for my partner."

 

And without waiting for my answer she took a purse, and placed a pile of

gold on a card. The banker without disturbing himself shuffled the

cards, turned them up, and my friend won the paroli. The banker paid,

took another pack of cards, and continued his conversation with his

lady, shewing complete indifference for four hundred sequins which my

friend had already placed on the same card. The banker continuing his

conversations, M---- M---- said to me, in excellent French,

 

"Our stakes are not high enough to interest this gentleman; let us go."

 

I took up the gold, which I put in my pocket, without answering M. de

Mocenigo, who said to me:

 

"Your mask is too exacting."

 

I rejoined my lovely gambler, who was surrounded. We stopped soon

afterwards before the bank of M. Pierre Marcello, a charming young man,

who had near him Madame Venier, sister of the patrician Momolo. My

mistress began to play, and lost five rouleaux of gold one after the

other. Having no more money, she took handfuls of gold from my pocket,

and in four or five deals she broke the bank. She went away, and the

noble banker, bowing, complimented her upon her good fortune. After I

had taken care of all the gold she had won, I gave her my arm, and we

left the 'ridotto', but remarking that a few inquisitive persons were

following us, I took a gondola which landed us according to my

instructions. One can always escape prying eyes in this way in Venice.

 

After supper I counted our winnings, and I found myself in possession of

one thousand sequins as my share. I rolled the remainder in paper, and

my friend asked me to put it in her bureau. I then took my locket and

threw it over her neck; it gave her the greatest delight, and she tried

for a long time to discover the secret. At last I showed it her, and she

pronounced my portrait an excellent likeness.

 

Recollecting that we had but three hours to devote to the pleasures of

love, I entreated her to allow me to turn them to good account.

 

"Yes," she said, "but be prudent, for our friend pretends that you might

die on the spot."

 

"And why does he not fear the same danger for you, when your ecstasies

are in reality much more frequent than mine?"

 

"He says that the liquor distilled by us women does not come from the

brain, as is the case with men, and that the generating parts of woman

have no contact with her intellect. The consequence of it, he says, is

that the child is not the offspring of the mother as far as the brain,

the seat of reason, is concerned, but of the father, and it seems to me

very true. In that important act the woman has scarcely the amount of

reason that she is in need of, and she cannot have any left to enable

her to give a dose to the being she is generating." "Your friend is a

very learned man. But do you know that such a way of arguing opens my

eyes singularly? It is evident that, if that system be true, women ought

to be forgiven for all the follies which they commit on account of love,

whilst man is inexcusable, and I should be in despair if I happened to

place you in a position to become a mother."

 

"I shall know before long, and if it should be the case so much the

better. My mind is made up, and my decision taken."

 

"And what is that decision?"

 

"To abandon my destiny entirely to you both. I am quite certain that

neither one nor the other would let me remain at the convent."

 

"It would be a fatal event which would decide our future destinies. I

would carry you off, and take you to England to marry you."

 

"My friend thinks that a physician might be bought, who, under the

pretext of some disease of his own invention, would prescribe to me to

go somewhere to drink the waters--a permission which the bishop might

grant. At the watering-place I would get cured, and come back here, but

I would much rather unite our destinies for ever. Tell me, dearest,

could you manage to live anywhere as comfortably as you do here?"

 

"Alas! my love, no, but with you how could I be unhappy? But we will

resume that subject whenever it may be necessary. Let us go to bed."

 

"Yes. If I have a son my friend wishes to act towards him as a father."

 

"Would he believe himself to be the father?"

 

"You might both of you believe it, but some likeness would soon

enlighten me as to which of you two was the true father."

 

"Yes. If, for instance, the child composed poetry, then you would

suppose that he was the son of your friend."

 

"How do you know that my friend can write poetry?"

 

"Admit that he is the author of the six lines which you wrote in answer

to mine."

 

"I cannot possibly admit such a falsehood, because, good or bad, they

were of my own making, and so as to leave you no doubt let me convince

you of it at once."

 

"Oh, never mind! I believe you, and let us go to bed, or Love will call

out the god of Parnassus."

 

"Let him do it, but take this pencil and write; I am Apollo, you may be

Love:"

 

'Je ne me battrai pas; je te cede la place. Si Venus est ma soeur,

L'Amour est de ma race. Je sais faire des vers. Un instant de perdu

N'offense pas L'Amour, si je l'ai convaincu.

 

"It is on my knees that I entreat your pardon, my heavenly friend, but

how could I expect so much talent in a young daughter of Venice, only

twenty-two years of age, and, above all, brought up in a convent?"

 

"I have a most insatiate desire to prove myself more and more worthy of

you. Did you think I was prudent at the gaming-table?"

 

"Prudent enough to make the most intrepid banker tremble."

 

"I do not always play so well, but I had taken you as a partner, and I

felt I could set fortune at defiance. Why would you not play?"