The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 03: Military CareerCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 03: Military Career
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
When I had done I was in a fearful state, and I threw myself in an
arm-chair opposite her bed, half dead, in a sort of trance. I was looking
at that lovely being who, almost artless, was continually granting me
greater and still greater favours, and yet never allowed me to reach the
goal for which I was so ardently longing.
"What are you thinking of?" she said.
"Of the supreme felicity I have just been enjoying."
"You are a cruel man."
"No, I am not cruel, for, if you love me, you must not blush for your
indulgence. You must know, too, that, loving you passionately, I must not
suppose that it is to be a surprise that I am indebted for my happiness
in the enjoyment of the most ravishing sights, for if I owed it only to
mere chance I should be compelled to believe that any other man in my
position might have had the same happiness, and such an idea would be
misery to me. Let me be indebted to you for having proved to me this
morning how much enjoyment I can derive from one of my senses. Can you be
angry with my eyes?"
"Yes."
"They belong to you; tear them out."
The next day, the moment the doctor had gone, she sent her maid out to
make some purchases.
"Ah!" she said a few minutes after, "my maid has forgotten to change my
chemise."
"Allow me to take her place."
"Very well, but recollect that I give permission only to your eyes to
take a share in the proceedings."
"Agreed!"
She unlaced herself, took off her stays and her chemise, and told me to
be quick and put on the clean one, but I was not speedy enough, being too
much engaged by all I could see.
"Give me my chemise," she exclaimed; "it is there on that small table."
"Where?"
"There, near the bed. Well, I will take it myself."
She leaned over towards the table, and exposed almost everything I was
longing for, and, turning slowly round, she handed me the chemise which I
could hardly hold, trembling all over with fearful excitement. She took
pity on me, my hands shared the happiness of my eyes; I fell in her arms,
our lips fastened together, and, in a voluptuous, ardent pressure, we
enjoyed an amorous exhaustion not sufficient to allay our desires, but
delightful enough to deceive them for the moment.
With greater control over herself than women have generally under similar
circumstances, she took care to let me reach only the porch of the
temple, without granting me yet a free entrance to the sanctuary.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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